Scions of the Dark Side

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything recognizable from the Star Wars universe.

A/N: Another long chapter, and one warning. There is a brief moment of consensual branding but it’s quick and nothing bad.

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Obi-Wan drew the hood of his cloak up as they stepped off the ship, bright eyes scanning their surroundings. The Asylum had been carved out of the cliffs thousands of years ago creating a natural fortress that even under the most strenuous bombardment wouldn’t collapse.

As they continued from the landing platform down the stone walkway that lead to the Asylum Obi-Wan’s eyes roved over the landscape. Other landing pads dotted the plain, many of them free of ships. The walkway was made of a dark stone flecked with clear crystals that captured sunlight, making it nearly impossible to look at the long path.

At the top of the stairs the two guards standing sentry opened the doors, their Force pikes held tightly in one hand. Xanatos had so tightly blocked their bond that Obi-Wan nearly tripped when his mate’s voice sounded in his head. (They’re Force sensitive, but not enough to worry about training. Just ignore them.)

The inside of the Asylum was dark; the long hallways lit by lights covered in red filters. They continued down the long hallway and Obi-Wan could make out shorter hallways branching off into small rooms or to another long corridor. He was so caught up in examining his surroundings that he ran into Xanatos’ back, hand coming up to clench in the dark fabric of the older man’s robe. The feeling of his mate’s humor at his expense slid down their bond and he channeled the Force through his hand, an arc of lightning skipping from his hand into Xanatos.

Ignoring the flash of anger from the dark haired man he peered around Xanatos, eyes widening at the sight in front of him. The Sith in front of them was dressed in rich clothing with a short cloak. He was old, with white hair and a white beard. His lightsaber had a bent handle that instantly told the younger Force user who the man was. Qui-Gon had told him about his Master many times.

“Darth Tyranus, always a pleasure.” Xanatos inclined his head slightly in greeting to the older man, braid falling over his shoulder.

Darth Tyranus, the man Obi-Wan knew as Jedi Master Dooku, who had trained Qui-Gon Jinn smiled. “Xanatos, good to see you do actually come here.” He stepped to the side and Obi-Wan held steady as he felt Tyranus’ probe slide across his shields. The man’s eyes widened and his smile transmuted into a smirk. “Two fallen Jedi my Padawan has created.” His eyes drifted back to Xanatos. “Does he know?”

The tall man shook his head. “About me yes. However, as far as he knows Obi-Wan lies dead in the jungles of Haruun Kal, killed by his own hand.”

“I’d love to see Qui-Gon’s face when he realizes Obi-Wan has fallen too. When he was a Padawan it was his greatest fear that his Padawans would fall.” Tyranus touched a finger to the scar on Xanatos’ cheek. “You proved that his fear was not unfounded.” He glanced at Obi-Wan. “And you were to be his redemption. When you do kill him, make it quick and painless. He has been an honorable opponent and was an excellent Padawan.” He inclined his head slightly and stepped around the two men.

(Every time I talk to that man I wonder how Qui-Gon managed not to fall. Probably because of the troll.) Xanatos strode back down the hall, leading the smaller man deeper into the Asylum. A large set of doors stood at the end of the hall, carvings of Sith runes inlaid with a dark red crystal that almost seemed to glow in the darkness.

As they approached the doors they swung open, moved by nothing more then the Force. (When we enter the room, stay behind me like you would with a Master. Do not speak until they speak to you. At this moment you have no standing with them and are lower then even a guard to them, despite the fact you are fully trained.) He laughed, the sound short and harsh. (Hell, they might decide that I’ve betrayed them by bringing you here without proper safeguards. In the end, being a Sith Lord doesn’t really protect you.)

In one smooth perfectly synchronized moment they stepped into the room, Obi-Wan half a step behind Xanatos and to the left. The room was circular, a flight of steep stairs against one wall that led to a tier that held six chairs, each one occupied by a figure dressed in robes, dark energy pulsing through the room. The two men bowed before Xanatos moved forward until he was standing in the center of the room.

Xanatos bowed again to the six Sith Lords, glad Obi-Wan was following his last minute directions. Had his mate been in the wrong spot the Lords would have demanded his death. “I, Darth Cimmerian, request that this man be welcomed to the Sith. I will take responsibility for his induction into the Order.”

Darth Archon, the only female on the Collocation, leaned forward. “You’ve always been one of the most outspoken Cimmerian. Your companion is rather old to begin his training, even by Sith standards.”

“That would be true Mistress, if he were simply beginning his training in the Force. However, he is a fallen Jedi who was very close to taking his Trials.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “His former Master has been a thorn in our side for years.” (Remove your hood.)

An almost imperceptible wave of surprise flowed through the room as Obi-Wan pushed his hood back. He scanned the Sith Lords, shields tight though he was starting to feel sick from the currents of Force flowing around the Lords and the Asylum. A headache had settled over his left eye and the back of his head, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

A Yevetha who was tattooed in the traditional red and black of the Sith got up and stalked to the bottom of the stairs to circle Obi-Wan. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Padawan of the great Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn.” His eyes went to the other man. “Cimmerian, you were also an Apprentice to this man at one time. What is it about him that drives his Padawan to fall?”

Xanatos shrugged the movement oddly graceful under his heavy robes. “He is considered as something of a rogue among the Jedi. The Council relies on his assistance but many would rather see that he never make the Council. As to what has made us fall, I could not handle his domination, nor the Order’s ideals. As for Obi-Wan, you’ll have to ask him Darth Rade.”

The skeletal Sith turned back to Obi-Wan. “And you?”

Obi-Wan tilted his head back slightly, looking regal despite the dark circles underlining his eyes. “He attempted to kill my bondmate and instead in his anger killed me. I was cut off from the Force for nearly a year and a half and the loss nearly drove me insane. I was angry, bitter and frustrated. When I regained my ability to touch the Force I realized my ideals had shifted to reflect those of Xanatos.” His anger was palpable in the circular room, most of it directed at the black haired man.

“Such beautiful anger.” The Trandoshan got to his feet and ponderously made his way down the stairs to stalk around Obi-Wan. His probe slid around the man’s shields, almost like a sick caress. “And aimed at the man you claim is your bondmate. How intriguing.”

Reaching out Obi-Wan plucked the Trandoshan’s name from his mate’s mind, ignoring the laughter he could feel. “Darth Saurian, I hadn’t realized I was forced to unconditionally love the man who made my life a living hell for a year.” When the Darth’s hand slid across his thigh he struck out, Force curling around the scaly wrist, forcing it back, held at the threshold of breaking. “Don’t think for a second just because you’re a Sith Lord that I’m just going to roll over and let you do what ever you want.”

He took a step forward and gave one last push, the sound of the bone snapping ringing through the air of the circular room. “Touch me again and I’ll break your spine.” With a feral smile he leaned forward. “Believe me, it isn’t a good feeling.”

Darth Archon got to her feet, clapping softly. “An excellent display of power and control. Kneel.” Once the man was on his knees she continued. “You came before us a fallen Jedi without a home because of your ideals. From the moment you entered this room I could see you had a great destiny.” Her gaze went to Darth Saurian who was staring at Obi-Wan, reptilian eyes cold with anger and hate as he cradled the broken limb to his chest. “And you showed no hesitation in proving your superiority. You knelt before this Collocation as Obi-Wan Kenobi, fallen Jedi, but you shall rise as Darth Umbrage, Sith Lord.”

“Erebus, help Rade get Saurian to the Medlab and make sure the healing is painful as possible. Do what you feel is necessary for him to learn his lesson. He should know not to touch something that is not his.” She beckoned to Xanatos, dark eyes hooded. “Cimmerian, attend me and Umbrage, explore. I expect you to know every crook of the Asylum.”

(Try not to offend any of the Adepts. They already hate us enough for being Jedi.) Xanatos smiled at his mate as he followed Archon out of the room. (Although, after what you did to Saurian I’m starting to think the Adepts should perhaps stay out of your way.)

Obi-Wan got to his feet and strode out of the room, ignoring the eyes boring into his back. /They’re not going to want to be anywhere near me right now./

-----

Obi-Wan was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He spun around and backhanded the person across the face. “Don’t touch me.” Standing behind him were three Adepts, watching him with hate filled eyes. They were projecting to everything within twenty feet as though their shields were non existent and it was making Obi-Wan feel even more nauseous then when he’d been with the Collocation.

The man he had hit was wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, black eyes fastened on him. “Look at the new high and mighty Darth Umbrage. This is the second time the Collocation has promoted a Jedi castoff above us.” He circled Obi-Wan, careful to stay out of his reach. “Awful small to be a Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Size has nothing to do with being a Sith Lord. I could have taken you before I became a castoff.” He turned to face the Adept, smirking. “And did you ever think the Collocation has raised Xanatos and I to this status because you and your companions are lacking in your control of the Force and your fighting abilities.”

He pinned the Chagrian Adept to the wall, ignoring his physical and Force struggles as he slid into the mind of the Chiss, planting the impression that the remaining Adept was plotting his death. The Chiss’ lightsaber flared to life and he stalked towards the human muttering in his own language. “This is what being a Sith Lord is about.”

When the Chagrian redoubled his struggles Obi-Wan glared at him. “Stop struggling before I break your neck. It would certainly purify our Order.” He turned back to the battle in front of him. The human Adept was backed into a corner and he was starting to get frantic, making wilder swings with his lightsaber in an effort to get to the Chiss.

“Darth Umbrage, I am getting immense pleasure out of your show, but I would kindly ask that you release the Adepts. I have no doubt you’ve made your point.” Darth Archon stepped out of the shadows, dark eyes sweeping over the three Adepts who had dropped to their knees, foreheads to the ground the moment they’d been released. “Keesyh, Sabzzki, you may leave.”

She watched the Chiss and Chagrian scrambled to their feet and disappeared before turning her attention back to the human who was trying his best to blend in to the floor. “Shric, I’ve heard complaints about your ego, but for obvious reasons I overlooked it. Now however, I find it hard to ignore when you insult a man who was is obviously your better, not to mention a Lord.” She canted her head to the side. “You may dispose of him how you wish Umbrage.”

The man smiled softly. “Thank you Mistress.” His eyes darkened and started to glow as he reached out to the Force, pushing it into the other man’s body, channeling the power through the various veins and arteries of the man’s body. A piercing scream split the air and the two Sith watched as the man writhed before slumping to the ground, his skin taking on a darker color as the blood seeped from ruined arteries.

“An interesting punishment to be sure Umbrage. I have a feeling you will quickly become one of the more notorious Lords in our Order.” Archon folded her arms in the sleeves of her robe. “Walk with me. I must admit I was rather surprised to find out your true identity. We’ve heard stories of you and your Master, how you’ve managed to survive the most dangerous missions almost completely unscathed. Many of the Lords were thinking about sending assassins after you. Darth Sidious even began training his Apprentice to kill you both.”

Obi-Wan laughed and folded his hands into his robes. “I hate to spoil Darth Sidious’ fun, but to the Jedi Order I’m dead. I was killed on Haruun Kal by my Master when I jumped in front of Xanatos…Cimmerian.”

Darth Archon turned the corner and led him down a long blank hallway. “If you are more comfortable calling him Xanatos that is fine. I was the one that found him on Metellos, guided him into the Sith, helped him get Offworld on its feet. He’s something like a son, although I would like to think if he were my son he would actually listen to what I tell him.” She pressed a small pad on the wall and a door slid open. “Enter. I thought you’d like to meet Sidious’ Apprentice.”

They passed through a dark hallway leading to the top tier of a small circular room. The center of the room was a pit with sheer walls and an uneven floor. At the bottom of the pit was a Zabrak, tattooed in Sith red and black, ivory horns shining slightly in the bright lights. He was carrying what appeared to be a double bladed lightsaber.

A door on the pit wall and a Weequay Adept stepped out, eyes going to the Zabrak. Obi-Wan could feel the fear rolling off the Weequay. Gathering the Force he pushed back his nausea and turned to the woman at his side. “Do you usually let Adepts face people who can kill them without a thought?”

“We are based on strength. Sar-Bareth believes he is ready to be taken as an Apprentice and that defeating Darth Maul will prove his point. Maul will fight any Adept who asks. Needless to say, most of them don’t walk away from the encounter. Only one person has ever fought Maul to a standstill.” She glanced at Obi-Wan. “Your bondmate. It was brutal, but then again, those are the best.”

With a cry the Weequay charged at Darth Maul, his lightsaber held high. Even from the beginning it was easy to see that Sar-Bareth was horribly outmatched. Maul was simply toying with him, staff saber lashing out at random moments to burn him briefly before pulling back.

The woman watched the combatants. “Darth Maul was raised in the Asylum. Sidious took him as his Apprentice when he was six. He is perhaps the perfect Sith, though even he has problems.”

Obi-Wan leaned forward, eyes glued to the one sided battle. The Zabrak had gotten tired of playing with the Weequay and was pressing him back with a flurry of attacks that would be impossible to separate for someone that was not trained in the Force. Yellow eyes met his and a thin tendril of the Force reached out for him.

Pain built up across the back of his eyes and his left temple, like someone was trying to drill out of his skull. Biting his cheek until he tasted blood he tried to channel his pain. A hand settled on the back of his neck and he blacked out.
-----

The first thing Obi-Wan saw when he woke was the red and black tattooed face of Darth Maul. With a small burst of Force he pushed the Zabrak away and reached out for his mate. /Xanatos!/

The dark haired man burst into the room, hair hanging loose. His eyes immediately went to Maul who had faded into the shadows in the corner of the room, watching everyone. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” The Zabrak’s voice was low and smooth, enough to send a shudder of dark pleasure up Obi-Wan’s spine.

Darth Archon got up. “Cimmerian, Maul did nothing to your bondmate. We were watching him duel with Sar-Bareth when he fell unconscious. Maul simply carried him up here.”

Xanatos dropped on the edge of bed and rested his hand on the smaller man’s chest. (What happened little one?)

/We were watching them duel and I could feel Maul and Sar-Bareth drawing on the Force. I could feel every tug and pull, how the currents were moving. Before I knew what was happening I was in more pain then I could safely channel and I woke up here./ Without thinking he reached out for Xanatos needing his touch.

Sensing his mate’s pain Xanatos slid down their bond and was disturbed to find that Obi-Wan’s shields were almost completely gone. He caught the smaller man’s hand and used the contact to close Obi-Wan’s mind, erecting temporary shields.

“I believe I may know the problem.” Archon glided forward and pressed two fingers against Obi-Wan’s forehead, her other hand resting on Xanatos’ shoulder. “Trust.” With the ease of long practice she slid into Obi-Wan’s mind.

Seconds later she was pushed, both psychically and physical away from the two men. “You’ve ruined his channels. When you blasted his channels you completely destroyed them. They’re raw and haven’t started to heal. That’s what caused him to collapse. And I can’t guarantee they’ll ever heal over. Until they do he’s going to be extremely sensitive to the Force.”

“Being around Cimmerian on a daily basis and using the Force shouldn’t affect you to much, but being at the Asylum or anywhere else with high concentrations of Force users will be excruciatingly painful for you. This will keep happening unless you suppress use drugs to suppress your abilities. Maul, Cimmerian, I’d like to talk to both of you.”

Xanatos pulled away from Obi-Wan with a mental caress. (Head back to the ship and try to sleep. It should take some of the edge off the pain.) He got to his feet and followed the woman out of the room, shooting a last scathing look at Darth Maul.

Ignoring the dark haired man the Zabrak ran his eyes over Obi-Wan. “Darth Umbrage.” He stalked from the room, cloak swirling behind him.
_____

Xanatos drew his finger across Obi-Wan’s lower back, eyes fastened on the pale skin. “I want to brand you.”

The younger Force user rolled on to his side to face his partner, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “Did you say you wanted to brand me?”

The dark haired man nodded eyes bright. He climbed over Obi-Wan and pushed the blanket off his hip, one hand resting low on his back, fingers spread. “Yes. I want to burn a broken circle into your back, to mark you as mine. Do you consent?”

Obi-Wan studied his mate’s face in silence for several seconds before he stretched back out on his stomach, arms folded on his pillow, head on his arms. He glanced at the older man, a slight smile twisting his lips. “I’m assuming you have what you need or you wouldn’t be asking right now.”

Before he could react Xanatos was off the bed and across the room, opening one of the storage lockers in the room. He withdrew a metal box and slammed the locker shut before rejoining Obi-Wan on the bed. A click sounded in the silence and Xanatos opened the box and withdrew the brand. It was the length of his forearm with a wooden handle. The end was in the shape of the broken circle and roughly the size of his palm.

He set the brand aside and withdrew a small burner from the box before tossing the box on the floor. With a grin he activated the burner and set it on the back of Obi-Wan’s thighs. “Don’t move.” Picking the brand back up he thrust it into the flame, his other hand resting on his mate’s back. The younger man’s body didn’t even move with his breathing and reaching down the bond he realized Obi- Wan had put himself in a trance.

Once the end was glowing red hot he flicked the burner off and moved it before straddling his mate’s legs. (Are you ready?)

/Yes./

Without giving the younger Force user a chance to react Xanatos pressed the hot brand to his lower back. The lithe body under him tensed and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. He opened the bond and pain flooded him. Taking a deep breath he called on the Force just as Obi-Wan did and the pain muted, fading from a searing intense pain to a dull burn. He removed the brand, eyes brightening at the mark, a perfect match to his own.

He felt Obi-Wan pulling on the Force again and he watched in fascination as the burn slowly healed, leaving behind a thick ring of scar tissue. His mate relaxed under him and the last of pain disappeared, replaced by flaming pleasure. Smirking he tossed the brand aside and pressed a kiss to the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, teeth scraping over the skin drawing a shudder from the smaller man.

“I had not realized my Chosen would be so beautiful together.”

Xanatos aborted his movement for the oil on the bedside locker, instead calling his lightsaber to his hand as he rolled out of the bed, Obi-Wan at his side, their lightsabers hissing to life at the same time. “Who are you?”

A tall man was standing by the door watching them with dark eyes, a slight smile curling his thin lips. He was dressed in Jedi robes though they were black and his dark hair was cut short. A lightsaber hung from his belt and he seemed to shimmer in the light. “I’ve been known by many names, though you may call me Fiachra. And please extinguish your sabers. I would never do anything to my Chosen.”

“Again with the Chosen. What are you talking about?” Xanatos thumbed the switch on his lightsaber though he didn’t set it aside. He glanced back at Obi-Wan who was slipping on a robe to cover his nakedness. The smaller man caught his look and he shrugged, though Xanatos was glad to see his mate’s lightsaber was still at hand.

Fiachra leaned back against the bulkhead, eyes fastened on the two men in front of him. From the moment they’d been conceived he’d known they would be his warriors, his harbingers, his Chosen. Xanatos was tall and whipcord lean, all wiry strength. Obi-Wan was shorter and broader, though no less powerful than his partner. He’d watched them spar on numerous occasions and they were always violent and dirty, each using any trick they could that might give them the upper hand. Almost every match ended up with someone bleeding and broken bones were prevalent, though with Obi-Wan’s healing abilities even that wasn’t a problem.

“My Chosen are special people. I choose them at the moment of their conception to be mine, to usher in the era of the Sith. Each generation I choose a new one, in hopes we will finally succeed. This time however imagine my shock when two of you were conceived. I knew then, that this time, we would win. You two would fall in love, bond and become unbeatable. And your anger towards each other only serves to strengthen your connection.”

Fiachra’s gaze drifted to Obi-Wan and his smile widened. “She thought you would be Hers, was convinced you would be. But She forgot one vital thing. Your heritage.” At the confused look on the younger man’s face he frowned. “You don’t know?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I know my parents, but they never talked about their parents. I gathered it was a sore spot when I asked my mother about her family and she smacked me and told me to never ask again.”

“Ah. Of course it would be. Your mother would not like to think about whom her ancestors were, what they did. You are a descendent of the infamous Darth Bane.” At Obi-Wan’s shocked look he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry Chosen. I should have known no one would tell you. Your mother is horrified her family willingly consorted with him and it completely slipped my mind for a moment that you’ve spent most of your life at the Temple. You also have some Cathar blood in you but that’s beside the point. Just affects your agility and leads to some interesting things when you’re angry. ”

His gaze drifted to Xanatos who was looking at the smaller man, eyes dark with thought. “And you didn’t know? There was nothing in the Archives about Bane’s family?”

Xanatos’ eyes snapped to the odd man, flaring with anger. “Do you have any idea how many different files there are that contain that man’s name? I haven’t read them all and I doubt even Agrona has. And even the main ones mention nothing of his life beyond his reign. So of course I had no idea my bondmate was related to Bane.”

Fiachra nodded. “Forgive me Chosen. Again I forget how much our Archives contain. I will leave you to think about these revelations. Please continue on your journey and give my best to the boy. We will meet again.” He bowed to the two men and disappeared.

Obi-Wan stared at the spot the tall man had just occupied before turning to look at his mate, multi-hued eyes wide with shock. “What just happened?”

Xanatos shrugged and stalked over to where the man had been standing, hands sliding over the wall. “I have no idea. He obviously was too solid to be a hologram, but I have no idea how he got on the ship or got off.” He looked back at the other man who was sitting on the bed eyes focused on the wall. (Little one?)

/I’d always wondered why Yoda and the other Council Masters always worried about my anger. I thought it was because they were worried I would hurt one of my crèche mates in a fight. I never realized it was because I’m a descendent of one of the most influential Sith Lords ever. They were afraid I would turn into him./

The dark haired man crossed the room and settled on the bed, drawing his mate to his chest. (The Jedi are emotionally dead. What they think of us should not matter to you. You are Darth Umbrage, Sith Lord. Peace is a lie, there is only passion.)

/Through passion, I gain strength./

(Through strength, I gain power.)

/Through power, I gain victory./

(Through victory, my chains are broken.)

“The Force shall set me free.”

Their final words echoed through the cabin, their voices weaving together, complementing each other. The Force flowed between them, its crest higher with each touch until it was almost palpable in the small room.