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[FIC] The Last Lesson


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Hi all! This is my first fanfic. I was writing a different one when this just sort of formed in my head and I wrote it one night. No specific time frame when it is set, either before or during KOTOR II maybe. I'd give it a PG rating as it has some violence at the end. Anyway any comments and advice welcome

 

Updated with other draft

 

The Last Lesson

 

Kal was ready to kill his master.

 

With a slight gesture of his hand the door ahead of him hissed and began to rise, opening the way into his masters’ chambers.

 

Kal walked towards the door. With another gesture his lightsaber floated up from his desk and into his hand. Kal thought about how he used the force so much in his life, and again wondered how he ever lived without it. His master told him of the Jedi and how their Padawan were discouraged to use the force for mundane tasks. They felt it might promote laziness, an inflated ego or arrogance among their young apprentices. What nonsense, Kal thought. The force was a tool. Not using it whenever possible was like having a hydrospanner in your belt and using your fingers to tighten a power coupling.

 

Kal entered the dark chamber, and saw his master sitting in his chair. Kal often joked to himself that it was his throne. His masters’ head was bowed and he made no movement at Kal’s entrance. Probably in meditation, Kal thought.

 

His master taught him many things. Mainly of the nature of The Force, and of the Dark Side, but of other things as well. The galaxy and it’s planets, and of course, The Republic and The Jedi. But now there was nothing left to learn. What sat in front of Kal was an empty husk. A tool that had fulfilled it’s purpose and could be discarded. Kal knew it was time for him to take over his masters throne.

 

“So, you think it is time.”

 

Kal halted in mid step as his master spoke. He looked up but his master’s face was still bowed. He continued to walk and stopped in front of the raised chair.

 

“You … know why I am here then?” Kal asked

 

“Yes, I have foreseen it,” came the reply. “I must admit though, I am surprised that you come to confront me face to face. Throughout the history of the Sith, quite often the apprentice, how shall I say, ‘graduates from his learning’ in more brutal methods.”

 

Now his master raised his head. Kal looked up and saw his face. It was pale, gaunt and cloaked in his dark hood. His eyes were red and bloodshot, while his yellow irises seemed to penetrate through Kal’s own eyes.

 

“Killing them,” he continued, “in their sleep perhaps. Or using an explosive device from a safe distance. Or perhaps the most suiting, using weaker minds to do the deed for you.” His face grew into a smile and Kal felt a sting of repulsion at the rare sight of his crooked yellow teeth.

 

“Yes, you’ve told me stories of such things. But I have nothing to fear from you,” said Kal.

 

At this his masters smile quickly faded, but Kal still saw a glint of humour shine in his eyes.

 

“I hope this is a kindness that you do not show to your true enemies, for they will surely not show it unto you. But so be it. This must mean you think your powers exceed my own?” he asked.

 

“I know they do my master and so do you,” said Kal.

 

His master left out a snort, which sounded like a gulp for air, but Kal guessed it was laughter.

 

“Presumptuous. If I am so feeble in your eyes, you won’t mind if I make this more private then.” The master waved his hand and Kal heard the door behind him slowly close and lock.

 

“It does not matter. I fear you no longer my master,” said Kal.

 

“I see,” his master replied. All humour in his expression had left now and he observed his young apprentice. “Then you know must what be done. You must you use your hate, your anger, your power to strike me down. Then it is complete.”

 

“I .. know what it is I must do,” Kal replied. “But, I do not know why I must.”

 

“It is the nature the Dark Side,” his master replied. “You wish to have power, ultimate power over all others. As do all Sith. Our power lies in embracing our emotions, and acting on our feelings. But all beings have different ideas of what has to be done.”

 

“Surely there is more power in being united in the dark side. Why do we need to take ours from each other?” said Kal. He vaguely felt his heartbeat slowly rise.

 

“True power cannot be shared, for if it is shared or compromised, then it is no longer true power. You know this. Look at the Republic. The SENATE!” his master spat.

 

“It’s power is split, divided between the squabbling masses,” he continued. “Trying to accommodate all their own interests, all their own ideals. In the end nothing is gained. Any real power is still in the hands of the local delegates, but it is an illusion of power. It reality, it is just reactionary authority, that comes from the fear and pressure of their own squabbling masses.”

 

“The Republic is weak, that I know. But it is said that it does merely seeks to attempt to do what is best for all.” Kal wiped some moisture from his brow. Had it become hotter, he wondered but returned his attention to his master.

 

“Bah! Sanctimonious tripe and you know it,” said his master. “And what of the Jedi? The so-called ‘Guardians’ of this bloated monstrosity? Have they stopped it’s inevitable demise? Have they helped stop the chaos, the carnage and meaningless drifting of this galaxy? Ha! They claim to teach the power of the force. Yet their teachings contradict the very nature of this galaxy, nay the very nature of the force! The strong always devour the weak. For if it is weak, then it is not meant to live. And so it is with the Sith. It is necessary for us to survive, as contradictory as it sounds. The strong must cut down the weak.”

 

“As I now must destroy you,” Kal replied and then drew out his ligthsaber.

 

“I had thought it might be so, my young apprentice. When you joined me I saw much potential in you. A young man, so in tune with the force, but not yet implanted with the seed of foolish Jedi teachings. Free to mould into something more powerful than can be imagined.”

 

Kal suddenly began to cough violently. And then he retched. A thick layer of foul smelling blood covered the floor. He fell to his knees.

 

Kal choked. “What is happening to me?” and he quickly vomited again.

 

“You are dying, my apprentice,” said his master. Kal looked up. His master was holding a syringe to his arm and slowly injecting the contents. “When I closed the door, I also set off a security device I keep in my chambers. A toxic gas has been slowly filling this room ever since. You have been too distracted to even notice you were slowly dying. You were not ready to face me.”

 

Kal’s master threw away the empty syringe.

 

“Oh, do not worry about me,” he said and his ugly smile returned. “I have just administered myself with the antidote of this particularly gruesome poison. I will be quite fine. Unfortunately, I can’t quite say the same for you. Right now your insides should be starting to liquefy, and it’s not going to be at all pleasant. But rest assured, I shall take what pleasure I can from watching you die.”

 

Kal fell over onto the floor struggling to breath as his master’s laugh echoed throughout the dark chamber.

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Welcome to the forums!:)

 

Ooh, that was excellent for a first fic!:) There's a few minor mistakes, such as it's instead of its, and is instead of it. No biggies though, so no worries. The analogy about the hydrospanner was a nice touch. Describing Kal's master's face as "a thin and pale sight" is a tad awkward, so you might want to rephrase that. Kal himself does seem rather supportive of the Republic, as far as Sith go; not quite as ruthless as I had expected. His death was foreshadowed nicely, and the dialogue flows quite well. All in all, good job, and keep writing!

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  • 1 month later...

That was well done especially for a first fic. I actually was surprised by the gas thing. That was very clever of the master, but as DY that Kal obviously had not learned how to play the game of surviving as a sith. I hope you write more fics.

 

I expect great things from you...

 

~HOP

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