It disappointed the Zabrak some to see the boy not defend himself. He'd called the boy weak merely to get a rise out of him, it was clear now just how futile his attempt had become.

"We shall visit the souls of the dead known as your family."

The shuttle quickly cascaded down toward the lands of Korriban.

It was bad enough that he was forced to relive his families death, but now he would have to go to them as they rested...

Rethus glanced up at his master, wanting to say something in response, to tell him that he wasn't weak... but he was more frightened of the Sith than anything else.

For a long moment the Zabrak glanced upon his apprentice, making small not so obvious calculations about the boy.

No how much of a nuisance it would be to teach Rethus, the Zabrak's troubles would be well worth the effort. The boy would become something great, just as many of his own apprentices' had become.

As the shuttle landed the Lord headed for the back of the transport, Rethus following.

"I intimidate you, don't I, Rethus? Fear not boy, whatever emotions fill your being, do not hesitate to express them for such things represent true power."

Rethus, following the Zabrak to the back, hesitantly says to his master as they walk,

"I do not see how fear could be seen as power. Most would see it as... as a sign of weakness."

The boy said the last few words quietly, as if to himself, though his master could still hear. Though he did not want to admit it, ever since he entered the order on Naboo, he felt weaker, more vulnerable. He tried not to think about this, as he realised as they exited the transport that his master was watching him.

The two exited the shuttle, darkness encompassing them as soon as they set foot onto Korriban.

"Then let this be your first true lesson, listen carefully.. Fear leads to the path of the dark side. When one gives into fear, he or she opens up to anger. That anger is then used, in turn, masking fear in the process. The anger eventually leads to hatred, allowing one to become more powerful and destructive by way of their emotions and by the use of the darkside. After some time, that hate eventually leads to true suffering, the ultimate depth of the darkside..."

He paused, wondering if the boy had realized the truth yet.

"Congratulations, boy, you've completed the first process of reaching deeper toward the path of the darkside..."

He motioned for Rethus to move forward ahead of him.

"Lead the way... the dead souls await..."

Rethus stepped onto the cold stone of the landing pad, and he and his master walked down the stone streets. After a few minutes of walking, they came upon a tall apartment building, signs of deterioration visible everywhere. Rethus pressed a button on the door panel, and one of the doors slid to the side with a hiss, the other mearly letting loose a shower of sparks.

After ascending several levels in the elevator, and scaring a young rodian boy out of his skin, courtesy of Zeta, Rethus and the Zabrak came to the door of Rethus' family's apartment. Rethus hesitated at the door, thinking of his family. In the split second before he reached for the door panel, he relived the entire story of his family's death. When he opened the door, he felt himself himself shudder, as a shiver ran down his spine. He looked about the room, surveying the decay of 8 years of looting. He reached for the lightswitch, but when he flipped it on, the room did not become any brighter. The only light was from outside and a few flashes from an overhead light.

Rethus fought back his tears, as he walked further. No matter what, he would not so much as look towards the kitchen, where he witnessed his parents' deaths, 8 years ago.

He looked up at the Zabrak, his eyes filled with mingled anger, fear, and pain, and asked, his voice shaking slightly,

"We're here. What do you want me to do now?"

The Zabrak took in the sight that was before him, seeming to appearing staring at every nook and cranny about the apartment. After endless searching the Zabrak's gaze finally fell onto the kitchen area. A thin crude smile swept across his lips, his eyes bulging ever so slightly as he walked whatever distance was left between himself and the kitchen.

Once he entered the kitchen he turned around to face Rethus' direction. He could recognize the pain and hesitation sketched into the boy's eyes. Looking closer, past the boy's eyes, and into his soul, he could sense and see the anger that resided within him.

"Come here, boy... It is time that you give in to your anger.."

For a few seconds Rethus hesitated, the images of his family as they died once again filling his mind. Slowly, he began to walk towards the kitchen, where the Zabrak stood. He managed a glance to the left, where his mother and father had died... the bloodstains still scarring the floor. He quickly looked back at this master, clenching his teeth as he thought of the two men who had murdered his family.

But then, as if he had had a bucket of ice water poured over his head, an unbearable cold swept over him, and he let out a gasp. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the temperature returned to normal. The boy looked behind him, and, seeing nothing, looked back to his master.

"This place no longer serves any purpose for you, it must be destroyed."

Within Rethus rested a quiet storm just waiting to get out. There was much that the boy held within that he was too afraid to let go of, but Zeta would show him how.

From within one of the closed cabinets, glass shattered. There was no visible display of the force being used, but Zeta knew otherwise.

"One piece at a time."

A cupboard filled with dishes slowly opened.

The boy could vent by destroying the things he wished to leave behind.

One single plate floated out into the open, slowly the plate made its way toward Rethus.

"Break it," he said as another plate floated out into the open, awaiting Rethus destruction.

"... Break it as you remember what happened here."

Rethus looked up at the Zabrak as he spoke. He was correct, being back in the place where his family was murdered caused more pain than anything else.

As these thoughts entered Rethus' mind, bits and pieces of that night 8 years ago did as well, tearing at his heart. His heart, the final barrier between him and the dark side of the Force.

As more anger began to seep through, a tiny crack formed at the edge of the plate. Rethus' mind became a maelstrom of memories, memories that he'd kept hidden for 8 long years.

Before long, the tiny crack in the plate began to grow, and grow, and grow, until it reached the other end. The plate snapped in two, and fell to the ground, shattering.


OOC: Where are you?:(