The Rule of Three

Posted on Mon Mar 17th, 2025 @ 3:49am by Amare & Thane

4,888 words; about a 24 minute read

Chapter: Chapter VII: Uprooted
Location: Training Room, Red Raptor, At Flight
Timeline: Before arrival at Oetrago

Lord Serus sat in his cabin aboard the Red Raptor, his eyes focused intently on the mechanical contraption before him. The two tiny digits, remnants of the hand he had lost during his drug-addled conflict with Bomoor at Jericho, twitched and flexed with a faint whirr of servomotors. His brow furrowed as he made minor adjustments to their articulation, fine-tuning their responsiveness to the commands of his will. The metal gleamed under the cabin's dim lighting, a stark contrast to the organic tissue of his hand. His thoughts were a whirlwind of anticipation and apprehension, as he knew he would soon be facing his best friend, Bomoor Thort, and the complex web of relationships that had formed between them all.

He had requested Amare join him in his cabin, and he could sense her stride nearer in the corridors beyond, her steps purposeful, the very picture, he anticipated, of a Sith apprentice ready for her next lesson. Yet, he felt the atmosphere was charged with something more than the usual tension of their teacher-student dynamic. Thane could feel it, a subtle shift in the very fabric of his cabin as she arrived, a whisper of the unspoken question that had lingered between them since he had dispatched her to locate Hesk Scivo in the prior month, before the whole affair at Bastion that had felt to last years, rather than mere days.

He had not forgotten her words back at the Mensix Mining Facility on Mustafar, the earnest plea for a brief reprieve from their rigid roles. In the depths of his mind, he contemplated the nature of friendship within the Sith Order, an emotion that was often seen as a weakness by those who had come before him. Yet, the memory of their time together, the camaraderie and trust they had briefly shared, echoed through his thoughts like a siren's call. He had felt oddly alive in those moments, not merely a creature of the dark side as he regularly feared he may become, but a man with a heart that still beat with the rhythm of the living - of the man he may, perhaps, become had his choices and circumstances been different.

His cabin's door parted to reveal the anticipated arrival of the young Nautolan woman that served as his Sith Apprentice.

"My master," Amare said with a respectful bow of her head to Lord Serus as was her sincere custom. "I'm grateful you summoned me. You've seemed more withdrawn than usual lately."

The Lady of the Sith had arrived to meet with her master for the first time with her new songsteel lightsaber affixed on her belt which she had just assembled in front of Bomoor a few hours earlier. Almost as if it were trying to make its own introduction, the Sith weapon somehow managed to catch the ambient light in the room such that a modest silvery gleam reflected just enough to catch Serus' keen eyes.

He noticed the new blade with unspoken pride. Serus looked up from his mechanical hand, his gaze lingering on the gleaming songsteel lightsaber at Amare's side. He could feel the power resonating from it, a silent declaration of her growing strength and commitment to their cause. The sight stirred something within him, a warmth that was almost foreign. He had watched her grow, from a lost and vengeful young woman to a powerful Sith in her own right, and the blade was a symbol of that growing transformation. He believes he had been the primary catalyst, the guiding force that had shaped her into what she had become, and yet, the bond that had formed between them was volatile, unsettled. Their ages and their predicament was at odds with their legacy and goals, he feared, and he was still lingering on her heartfelt, very innocent request. The innocent request of a young woman to one of the few beings she actually shared a connection with.

"Your request for time together, as friends," he finally spoke, his voice echoing in the cabin, "It is... unorthodox for Sith." He paused, considering his words carefully. "The Sith of old old long cast aside the trappings of friendship, viewing it as a weakness, a distraction from the pursuit of power. Yet... Yet, we are but neophytes. Two alone in a vast cosmos, seeking to reforge that legacy, and do in years, perhaps, what it took others centuries to accomplish." Serus attempted a smile. "Can Zaracoda and Thane be friends?"

The door closed behind Amare as she casually crossed the threshold and tilted her head slightly at him, deeply curious about his musings on hypotheticals.

"Hard to answer a question meant for those who no longer exist," she answered with cold conviction as she took it upon herself to sit at the foot of his bed without invitation. "Coda died on Korriban, and Thane...I believe he passed that day in the cave on Vaa. The Force used Coda to channel new life and power into he that would rise as Darth Serus. We have their faces, their voices, and their memories, for we have conquered them, as we must conquer all things we desire. But if I were to indulge your question, I would say yes, as master and apprentice...as Jedi."

As Amare's words echoed in the cabin, Serus' thoughts turned inward. He pondered the truth of her statement and the identity he had forged in the shadows. Was Thane truly gone, or was he merely buried beneath layers of dismay, ambition, and the teachings of the dark side? The name he now often bore was a mantle he claimed to have taken on, a supposed symbol of his power and his rejection of the Reborn Jedi Order. Yet, each time he heard it, a part of him recoiled, clinging to the remnants of the man he once was.

His mind drifted to Bomoor, his old friend and philosophical counterpart. Bomoor had always been a beacon of wisdom and balance, a steady presence in Thane's life. The memories of their shared ideals and the trust they had once placed in each other lingered, but Serus feared that his own descent might be jeopardizing their friendship. He felt a growing sense of responsibility for not challenging the darkness he saw creeping into Bomoor, wondering if his choices had inadvertently led his friend down a perilous path.

In moments of solitude like this, Serus could still feel the faint heartbeat of his former self, a flicker of light amidst the encroaching darkness. The path he had chosen was fraught with sacrifices and regrets, but it was also lined with moments of clarity and purpose. He was a Sith, yes, or so he and the holocron now claimed, but within him lay the echoes of a man who had once fought for justice and peace. This duality gnawed at him, an unrelenting reminder of the choices that had led him here.

As Serus grappled with these conflicting emotions, a realization began to take root in his mind. The very fact that he was still plagued by such thoughts, that he questioned his path and pondered the nature of his relationships, indicated that he had not fully succumbed to the Dark Side. Within, and close to the surface, Thane still existed, his essence not at all lost to the shadowy mantle he now wore - in fact, Serus was the one lurking within. But this consideration brought little comfort; instead, it introduced a new layer of complexity. Could he expose this vulnerability to Amare, reveal the inner turmoil that gnawed at him? Or must he continue to perform, to embody the role of a Sith Lord for the sake of his apprentice? He saw the changes in Amare, the way she had been shaped by his teachings and influence. Was she yet another corruption he was responsible for, another soul he had guided down a perilous path? The weight of his impact on those around him bore heavily on his feebling conscience, a constant reminder of the fine line he walked between the light and dark within himself.

Serus took a deep breath, steadying himself as he looked at the Nautolan. "Amare," he began, his voice measured and thoughtful, "your insight is increasingly. But know this: names, titles, and even the identities we adopt do not define us entirely. They are but facets of who we are, layers that conceal deeper truths, even as they stand as declarations and help shape ourselves into what we seek to embody."

He paused, his gaze unwavering as he searched her eyes for understanding. "In our pursuit of power and knowledge, we will undoubtedly stray from the paths we once held dear. Yet, it is within these moments of reflection that we may find our true strength. You and I are no mere corruptions, much as some might claim; you are a being of great potential, shaped by your own choices and experiences."

The Human's expression softened, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his gilded eyes. "As for friendship... I admit, I'm conflicted. I believe it a bond that can fortify us in ways we might not fully comprehend. In this vast cosmos, we may find strength in the connections we build, but I do not know if that could ever be friendship."

He allowed a small smile to form on his lips. "We must navigate these uncertainties together, as master and apprentice, but also as individuals who seek to understand the greater truths of our existence within the dark side, as the Sith of the new age." He looked to his ravaged cybernetic hand for a moment, a wound of Jericho. "And our relationship is not as simple as that of Jedi. It must be more. It must transcend even that of family, let alone friends."

As he finished speaking, Serus couldn't help but wonder if he had truly conveyed his thoughts, or if his words had merely skirted around Amare's original request. She had sought clarity about the possibility of spending time together as friends, a simple yet profound question that had unsettled him. Had his response satisfied her query, or had he left her with more uncertainty? The complexities of their relationship and the unorthodox nature of their bond made it difficult for him to provide a straightforward answer. He questioned whether he had adequately addressed her desire for camaraderie or merely reiterated the expectations of their roles. The weight of his influence on Amare weighed heavily on him, and he pondered if he was guiding her towards understanding or inadvertently leading her down a path of confusion and conflict. The realisation that his words might not have provided the comfort or clarity she sought gnawed at him, a reminder of the delicate balance he had to maintain between his duties as a master and the genuine connections he still yearned to preserve.

She cherished every word her master conveyed to her, but she shook her head at his views of the big picture between them. Thane's perspective felt too limiting and it disappointed her greatly. She knew he was far greater than that. There was indeed a rift them between for the longest time, and she felt it most profoundly upon her return to him on Yavin after her trials on Lorrd.

"The failures of the old Sith, they will not be what defines your Sith," she paraphrased the words of Lord Serus the first day they truly met in that dank old Massassi temple. She reluctantly slid from the bed and returned to her feet with her back to him, adding, "The reigning Lord of Darkness said that to me once. He looked like a man, but I felt the power of a god that day.

She turned to look upon him and glanced over his shoulder to glance upon the mask he wore on Mustafar placed on a stand in the corner of the cabin. "I think about those words constantly. Each lesson spoken to me from the holocrons are always punctuated with the wisdom of Serus. Your words. They drive me to ask myself, 'How can I take what this ancient Sith recording had said, and make it better, smarter, and more powerful?' This mask you wear, this persona called 'Thane' that you wrestle with...it is the lie that was ingrained into you from birth. You were not born a prince of a royal family. You were beyond that from the start. You were born as Serus, and you were imprisoned by lies. Your blood relatives. Your Jedi teachers. They all fed you lies, just as all of those before I met you lied to me, all of them believing what they called us was the truth, none of them knowing who we really were all along."

She sat upon the bed closer to him now, her voice was serious, but her face was almost pleading. She was begging for him to see the truth as she had. "What I'm trying to say is that we did not adopt these titles, these names. I have learned through life and death and back again that to be Sith is an awakening! It's not something you take on; it's unlocking the truth from within. Darkness is the only truth, my lord. The scientists say before the stars, there was only the void. Vast, endless, eternal. Stars come and go, but darkness never dies. We represent the canvas of the universe, and you can paint the rules as you see fit. What was unorthodox before can be our strength, our passion! We are free to explore what we have been all along..."

She reached up to gently touch the right side of Serus' face as her tone softened, hoping she was touching a Sith Lord, and not the lie that was Thane, "...to be better than those who came before. To throw off our chains and be eternal in our bond. I can help you."

But in that moment, Lord Serus felt something akin to a chill run through him. Amare's words, while earnest and driven by the power of the dark side, spoke of a single-mindedness that he knew all too well could lead to destruction. He knew the intoxication of the Sith philosophy, had felt it firsthand in the throes of battle and the allure of power. Yet, the concept of Thane, of the man he had been, was, or perhaps will have been, whispered to him, reminding him of the complexity of existence, of the nuances that the Sith of old often ignored.

Serus leaned back in his chair, his cybernetic hand curling into a fist as he contemplated her words. He felt he now understood the seductive nature of the dark side, the promise of freedom it whispered into the ears of those who sought to wield it. Yet, he knew that such freedom was a double-edged sword, one that could just as easily cleave apart the very bonds they sought to forge. The Jedi path had indeed been a cage, one that had stifled his potential and kept him from understanding the full breadth of the Force, but it had also provided him with the foundation upon which he had constructed his new identity.

"Amare," he began, his voice carrying a warning less gentle than he perhaps intended, "I chose to become Serus, to embrace the dark side. It is not destiny that guides me, but the hand of my own making." He paused, his gaze drifting to the mask once more. "This mask is a mark of what I have become. I wear it not to hide from Thane but to show the world that I am something new, something more than the sum of my past." He took a moment, collecting his thoughts, before continuing, "I reject the Jedi, but I do not reject who I was, nor the life - or the people - that have brought me here."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the only sound the steady hum of the ship's engines. Serus knew his apprentice sought guidance, but he also knew that true power could not be found by following a script. He had to navigate his own path, and perhaps that meant embracing the complexities of his identity rather than discarding them. He had made his choice, and with that choice had come a responsibility to shape the future of the Sith.

The Nautolan withdrew her hand, her display of affection denied yet again, but it was not an unexpected outcome.

"You and I..." she began with a long, dejected exhale and a shake of her head, "...we are so different. I was a fool to expect you to share my perspective. We each came to be Sith from different paths. You were once the Jedi hero, and I...just a nobody who stumbled into the right ship when death was at my back."

Amare became restless and she rose to her feet again, her tension rising, seething, her suppressed inner frustrations shifting from opaque to clear as crystal.

"I'm learning to embrace the wisdom of your views and relish in your knowledge," she added with a touch of added volume, pacing about in the small space she had between them in the room, "but I'm finding it more and more impossible to accept the presence that is always there standing between us, complicating our mission. It is the one thing that I feel grounds a part of you to your past, that holds your true self back! I can accept a Rule of Two Sith, but I know you speak as you do partly because of him. Always him! You wish me to serve you, and yes, master, I will do so with all my power and spirit. I will face death with a smile by your side. But this bond of yours...it's growing more difficult to tolerate. An apprentice cannot have two masters!"

She didn't have to bellow the name at all to Thane. For her resentment for the Sith Lord's bonded brother, that had once been deep admiration, wasn't a secret between them. She knew Thane, and by extension, Serus, could read her like a projected holo-novel.

Serus matched Amare to stand before her. Hheld a punctuated silence between them, a rage, initially unspoken, beginning to simmer. She detected it before he finally spoke. "Amare, you presume to lecture me on what it means to be Sith?" His voice took on a sharp edge, his golden eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. "The Rule of Two is a guide, not a cage. I have forged my power through conflict, through will, and through knowledge - knowledge Bomoor has helped me uncover. He is not your rival, nor is he mine. Do not mistake my patience for weakness!"

He let the weight of his words hang for a moment before continuing, his tone icy. "If you believe I am being held back, then perhaps you should question whether your focus lies on your own strength, or on shadows that do not concern you." The would-be Sith Lord seemed to appraise his student, the mood challenging - stark against the desire behind this meeting. "Ten masters or one, an apprentice you yet remain."

And with that proclamation, Amare's spirit grew colder. Every syllable the man uttered was a volley of hot plasma knives slashing through her thoughts. It was the wakeup call she needed, and those shadows of the Force that Thane spoke of worked through Amare, the deeply familiar and intimate feeling of energy surging up and down through her spine, the tingles of electricity and the subtle queer flows of the azoth touching every organ, hardening itself around her bones as the tension in the room grew to a fierce, yet silent climax of contempt and raw anger.

For but a fraction of a second, Amare had considered capitulation and simply accepting the human's audacity, but at great peril, she dared to take a slow forward, bringing herself easily in arm's length of her superior. Thane's hypocrisy was too much for her to bear and to back down from. She held his gaze, not with a scowl, but with sober pity, for she knew that in that moment, Thane was the failure, and she was a step ahead of him in their growth as Sith, but she knew her limits, that one year's worth of Force training was nothing compared to Thane's roughly two decades from since childhood.

"When my brother and his men took up arms against us, I cut him in half," she said, looking up at him, speaking in a low, yet icy tone. "Not for Bomoor's sake or mine, but for the Sith. I could have spared him, but I made the sacrifice, and no matter how much pain it has caused me, I would do it again."

Amare lowered her tone to barely more than a whisper as she leaned in closer to Thane, close enough to almost feel the breath from his nose, and added, "Master, you asked if we can spend time as friends. So, I ask you in return, as a friend, if the darkness comes to take Bomoor, and the temptation consumes him, and he dares to raise his weapon against you, are you willing to do the same to him? To your bonded brother? Can you sacrifice the one person you love the most...for us? For our future?"

She didn't expect an answer. Amare merely desired to be close enough to read his golden eyes, to see and feel the truth behind them, as was the Nautolan way. Though she half expected that her daring to push him would forfeit her life right then and there, a twisted, carnal part of her also hoped he would assert dominance, not with the Force, but with his hands, and explore his desires with her.

Yet, far beyond that, she adamantly craved that Serus, behind the mask of Thane, could see more in her. She yearned for him to cherish the value of her strength in spite of all the hardships she faced, her boldness of spirit to challenge his ego. She needed him to see her willingness to fight him with words today, to challenge him to grow against the resistance of her blossoming will made possible by his wisdom and wrath. For Amare, this relationship was a mutual exchange forged in fire and passion. That for them to grow and to evolve, there must be conflict in thought, but unity in purpose.

She knew that if she failed to inspire him, to further embrace his inheritance as the Dark Lord of the Sith, and he instead chose to kill her where she stood, then she failed as his apprentice. But if he could see her true honest intent, not one born out of rebellion, but out of respect and reverence, then anything was possible.

Serus felt the anger rising within her, and his own grew in response. Yet, it was not anger at her words, but rather at the realisation of the truth she had uncovered. The bond he shared with Bomoor was indeed a complication, one that had been both a source of strength and a potential weakness. He had never allowed himself to consider what might happen if the day came when he would have to choose between the Jedi he had once loved as a brother and the Sith he had become. The very thought was a betrayal to both his past and his present - and not something that would come to pass.

His eyes remained on hers, a silent storm raging within him. He could feel the dark side's hunger for dominance, urging him to assert his power and silence her dissent. But something held him back - the ghost of Thane, perhaps, whispering of the value of camaraderie, of the strength that could be found in unity rather than just mastery. He took a deep breath. The decision was his alone to make, and he knew that to be a true Sith, at least in the eyes of Bane and even his apprentice, he would have to confront his fears and embrace the totality of this growing identity.

Serus reached out with the Force towards Amare. He knew she was testing him, pushing him to see where his true loyalties lay, but he also knew that she was speaking from a place of fear and confusion. Her journey had been tumultuous, her path to the dark side fraught with loss and betrayal. He had seen the potential in her, had felt the raw power that she had yet to fully harness. But in this moment, he saw something else - the desperate yearning to be understood, to be accepted, not just as an apprentice, but as a fellow traveler on this path of shadows. And he saw her jealousy of Bomoor.

With a gesture, he sent her lightly staggering backward towards the now-open cabin door, the action piercing her own defensive Force shield. Not a violent thrust, but a firm nudge that served as a clear message: this conversation was over for now, that his power still exceeded hers. He had to maintain his composure, had to show her that he was in control. "Leave me," he said, his voice a thunderclap in the quiet cabin. "I will consider your words."

Amare took the hint from the push and bowed her head silently in obedience to him. With her back to him, she stepped out into the corridor and allowed herself a satisfied smirk. It was the first time she truly felt like she had won a small victory over her master.

The door slid shut behind her, leaving Serus alone with his thoughts. He took a moment to let the tension in the room dissipate before allowing himself to sit back down, his cybernetic hand resting on the arm of the chair, feeling the cold metal against his skin. He stared into wall, imagining the void of space beyond, his thoughts racing through his mind like a podrace through the skies of Malastare. He knew that what Amare had said had struck a chord, had forced him to confront the duality that dwelt within him. Was it truly possible to be both Serus and Thane, to be both Sith Lord and friend to Bomoor.

He let out a long sigh, his mind drifting back to the day he had taken up the mantle of Serus. It had been a declaration of his newfound power, but not a shedding of his former self. But as he pondered her words, he realised that he had never truly considered discarding Thane. The man was had undoubtedly changed, but he was still that person. Even the Jedi Guardian that Thane had been, youthful and optimistic, still lurked in the shadows, whispering to him, reminding him of the bonds he had formed, of the person he had been before he claimed the dark side as his own. The friendship with Bomoor was not just a relic of his past; it was a living, breathing part of him that had survived the purge of his Jedi identity.

But Amare had shown him something today. He had seen the intensity of her conviction, the fire that burned within her to become something more than just a Sith. It was a hunger that reflected his own when he had first started embracing Darth Bane's teachings.

He stood up, his cybernetic hand clenching into a fist. "I will not be torn apart by the past," he murmured to the empty cabin. "I am the Lord of the Sith. I am the master of my fate." Serus approached the mask, lifting it from its stand with his organic hand, feeling the weight of the dark legacy he had claimed. "And I will shape the future of the Sith in my image."

Upon return to her own cabin, Amare felt inspired and meditated upon Darth Bane's holocron. When the gatekeeper's haunting image appeared and demanded her query, she confidently answered, "My master is conflicted, unable to reconcile his Jedi past with his true role as the reigning Sith Lord. If he continues like this, then my power must grow to rival his, or we may lose everything. Tell me...tell me everything about your apprentice. I wish to know of the one who succeeded you...the one who defeated you."

The gatekeeper's image was replaced by a beautiful female human with strange makeup around her eyes, nearly identical to Bane's, with long flowing golden locks of hair and wearing a luxurious body-hugging black outfit with a dark hooded cloak. Amare found the clothing very appealing and befitting a Sith Lady and instantly felt impressed by her style and poise.

It struck her even further to see that the apprentice was around her age and someone very much her own size and shape. How did she overcome someone so formidable as Bane? How did this pale young woman rise above such intense might and influence?

It was then that the image spoke in her own voice and Amare learned the name...

"Darth Zannah."

END

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