the beginning to a story in progress
Approximately 230 years prior to the death of Anakin Skywalker and Emperor Palpatine
The two combatents were locked in mortal combat. Their faces were inches apart, staring malevolently into each other’s eyes. The bright crimson light of their lightsabers reflected off the many beads of sweat dripping from their brows. The younger of the two sneered.
"When last we parted, I was but the learner," he said, the hatred apparent in his voice, "but I have returned the master!"
The older warrior laughed. Funny, I said almost the exact same thing over twenty years ago to my master! "That has yet to be seen, my young apprentice!" With a speed unknown to most his age, the master kicked the apprentice back. Harnessing the Force, he ripped the lightsaber from his opponent’s grasp and sent it flying over the balcony, then with a gesture from his hand, lifted him off the ground and began choking him.
"You are still impetuous in your youth, Brajo. When I was your age I was the same way. Be thankful I am more forgiving with you than my master was with me," said the older warrior, tightening the grip on his lightsaber with his cybernetic hand. He lowered his right hand and Brajo fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Turning off his lightsaber, he calmly and cooly said, "Bow before me and I shall forget this little incursion ever happened."
Brajo rose to one knee, his head bowed. The room was dropped into silence, save for the thunderous roar of the blood pumping through his veins. He stood up and began to laugh. His master’s eyes narrowed in fury.
"You insolent whelp!" his master screamed. Igniting his lightsaber, he advanced on Brajo. "I show you mercy and this is how you repay me?" As he neared his apprentice, who continued to laugh mockingly, he raised is lightsaber to strike. "Now I shall have to give you a lesson in the power of the dark side that you’ll not soon forget!"
As his master approached, ready to cut him down, Brajo stopped laughing. His eyes narrowed. "No," he said, then raised his arms. Brajo’s hatred exploded from him in wave of pure Force energy. His master was thrown backwards across the room, crashing into the ornate wooden desk. His lightsaber fell to the ground. Lowering his arms, he walked toward his dazed master. He opened his hand and his mentor’s weapon flew to his grasp.
Shaking his head, his master said, "Where did you learn to do that? I never taught you that!"
Brajo laughed again. "No, Master. You neglected to teach me a great many things."
"Where did you learn that?" his master repeated as he started to rise to his feet. Using the Force, Brajo pushed him back down to the ground.
"I have made a pilgrimage of sorts," he said. "I have been to Onderon and the Dxun demon moon. I have been to the graveyard planet of Ruusan. And, most important of all, I have been to Korriban, tombworld of the Sith."
For a moment his master’s eyes widened in fear, then quickly narrowed in hatred and unbridled fury. "So, . . ."
"Your time has come to an end, Darth Jarec," Brajo said, igniting his master’s lightsaber. Raising the blade to strike, he said, "From this day forth, I am now Dark Lord of the Sith!"