Short Story - An Introduction to Sharho Aamomn

Pt1 - The Magistrate

Alas – the world was a bitter grey. It was lacklustre, devoid of any real enjoyment – for the moment. The man, Sharho Aamomn tapped with a dull mood on the fine wooden table, pilfered from Kashyyyk, and sporting a rich golden trim that would be befitting a Grand Moff. He was of no real rank and so little extremities such as this were a rare occurrence, and he could never enjoy it as, simply put, it was not his. In contrast, the Zabrak was dressed in a cheap black cloak, standard amongst apprentices, yet unworthy for someone of his calibre. Sharho contemplated why he was wearing what he was, but only for a second. His mind had no time for trivial matters such as this. Perhaps one day he may wear more interesting clothing, but only when his Master Plan had completed its first stage.

“My, we never have a Sith within these walls my good sir...” A pompous man stood at the door. He was a Twi-lek with a strange pink skin tone that was nicely off-set by his own clothes. Sharho eyed the person up and down, judging every part of him. The man didn’t take well to the pause and fiddled with his lekku – an obvious sight of stress and discomfort. “Why don’t you come inside – I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, paperwork you see...” Sharho didn’t bother replying.
The doorway opened up to an exquisite view of Kaas City – the capital Dromund Kaas, which was also the capital world of the Sith Empire. Further scans of the room with his bored eyes revealed the same expensive furniture that had been in the lobby, now coupled with a dark red carpet and a desk even finer than the table before. Had the receptionist not revealed the man’s rank at the instant of Sharho’s arrival, he could well have mistaken him of a Moff of some sector or another.
“Magistrate, I come to you for a very important favour...” Sharho’s voice betrayed his tired and bored mood, making him sound more direct and forceful, and a trait he acquired from his father. He had been a Space Station director, Sharho his firstborn. His multiple trade deals with a variety of business partners had taught the young Zabrak many speaking skills. And now they were coming into play. “But first, please, do tell me how business fares...”
This little swing of the discussion had the ball in the other’s court, and would smooth Sharho’s entry into the more important matter. The Twi’lek was happy to comply, obviously in need of relief. In seeing a chance for a casual banter, he stepped over to pour some alcoholic liquid. Sharho had no taste for such things, but accepted it with grace. It was quite distasteful, sour to the tongue. Hopefully their little chat would go down better.
“Law is a tricky business, sir. You Sith are lucky to be immune to all but your own creed. Pardon me but I have never learnt it off by heart”. Sharho nodded duly and downed another shot of the liquid only to save himself from having to speak. “But it is difficult at times, to keep things in check”. A quick turn of his head revealed to the Zabrak that that man was now having a personal monologue, staring at the wall. Time to interject.
“As it is for all of us, Magistrate, which brings us nicely to why I have arrived,” Sharho laid his shot glass on the man’s desk and proceeded to slowly patrol the room. “It is my understanding that you have a way with the courts.” The Zabrak watched the Magistrate give a nervous nod. “Well I have someone that has felt the unfortunate corruption in the law. He is a banker who has become imprisoned by a gross miscalculation of debt, even though his assets covered the cost...”
In truth, the banker had idiotically neglected his debts and his assets composed only of an apartment in the lower levels of Kaas. But the Magistrate would never know. “I see...”, the cogs were ticking in the Twi’lek’s head. The Zabrak pondered if the man needed a little encouragement. With a stern expression, he laid a hand on the Magistrate’s shoulder. The Twi’lek visibly squirmed under the touch of the Sith, even with no applied pressure.
“I will see what I... Can do...” The man choked mid-way in his sentence, most probably having heard that being touched by a Sith meant that you were very close to your end should it be wished. “What... Is his name?” The Zabrak first released his grip, leading to a miniscule, yet detectable, sigh of relief from the Magistrate. The little motion had gone a long way in convincing the man that it was a justifiable cause.
“Rons Holill, a Muun...” Sharho said, slowing moving towards the door, not before glancing towards the Twi’lek. The man was scribbling some notes down, a sure sign that action would be taken. It occurred to the Zabrak that he didn’t even have to mention his name to the Magistrate. “And I’m Sharho... Aamomn... I’ll be back in a fortnight, don’t fail me...” And with that, Sharho left the building.

Dromund Kaas was a murky place. The Emperor’s many dark rituals had transformed the weather into a continuous dark storm which rubbed off on the mood on the citizens. Everyone who passed by Sharho seemed either depressed or as tired as he was. However, Sharho’s tiredness lay not with the spells of their unquestionable leader, but rather with his constant preparations for his Master Plan.
Even as an apprentice and still was a way to go before achieving his title of Darth, Sharho had been weaving a fine plot ever since he had been rescued from slavery by the Sith Lords. For in Sharho’s origin, the Republic had decided his Father’s Space Station was a perfect launching point for an attack into Sith Space. However, things quickly got ugly as the Republic decided to take the Station by force.
Refugees from the Station ran into the Sith Armada who took them in as Prisoners of War. It was a long while between that and when Sharho was actually recruited into the Sith Order. He had wound up on Korriban to work as a Slave, helping to excavate ancient treasures. Luckily, a Sith Master had sensed his force sensitivity and had quickly taken him in as an Apprentice. Now, he had been let off the leash to go to Dromund, his Master had not questioned the departure.
Rons Holill’s place in Sharho’s Master Plan was expendable, although he required a source of income and who better to fulfil that need than a Muun Banker? They had met twice before, the Muun usually provided services to authorities of Korriban before retreating to Muunalist to count his coins. He had ended up on Dromund Kaas as a business venture with the Sith Empire, although as anyone could see – it went badly wrong.
Sharho would stay in Dromund for another month; perhaps finally get some rest from rigorous training and careful planning. It would be a long while before even the first stage of his Master Plan was executed. Until then, the Zabrak may as well relax. He would be keeping a close eye on the Magistrate however. He should eventually gather a fearsome reputation – no man would cross, Sharho Aamomn.

Pt2 - The Citadel

The “economy” suite at Kaas-View Hotel was aptly named, sporting no more than a small drawer, reading light and a single bed – which felt extremely hard to the touch. The window was even just a small porthole, though Sharho refrained from wishing he was back in the Magistrate’s Office. He didn’t need much though. Entertainment was found in the struggles and successes of everyday life which certainly couldn’t be hidden in the purchase of an overgrown resort-room. Slowly, Sharho edged his way into the bed. He certainly didn’t need much in the way of comfort. Sith were trained in the acceptance and use of pain and stress. The Zabrak had pre-planned where he would be staying, overlooking Kaas-View’s shoddy middle-class rooms it had the lowest crime rate for any Hotel, most probably due to the fact that it was close to the infamous Citadel and no man would risk committing a heinous act so close to the Sith Lords – unless that man was a Sith himself.

Sharho awoke to the bustle of Kaas’ street. He had left the reading light on, obviously too tired to care about light intensity at the time. The young Sith Apprentice paused to listen and look for anything out of the ordinary before closing the light. The noise outside could be attributed to the crowd of commuters all moving for work. As a Sith, Sharho often wondered what these people thought of their lives and if they shared the same values. Possibly, came the assumption.
Reception hardly noticed him leave; wearing his black cloak he blended in well with the shadows, until outside. The people on the streets tended to curve around him, probably full aware of what he was. To avoid any risks, the Zabrak decided to take the stealthier route, quickly stepping into a maze of alleyways. It was easy to get lost in here; luckily, Sharho knew where he was going and made for a north-western direction.
The winding back-streets were filled with rubbish. Sharho made out seemingly ancient electronics, with some discarded droids here and there, along with old and dirty clothing. He didn’t mind though and was perfectly happy to wade amongst the trash. It wasn’t long though until he came across a homeless man, covered in filth lying on the floor. Even seemingly immobile, he slithered away from the cloaked Zabrak, obviously fearful of becoming subject to a “game”.
Sharho however, had no time for games, much less charity unless it was towards the “Master Plan” – although then it wouldn’t be charity. He exited the alleys mindful of any passing pedestrians, now close to his designation – the Citadel. The great structure was indeed testament to the Emperor’s power, although a dark storm was brewing overhead. The Apprentice could sense the twisted energies of the force and he questioned what could have caused it, but only for a moment.
To get anywhere near the entrance, you had to cross a great plaza. It was to be expected to be riddled with security and sure enough, what looked like an entire platoon was stationed outside. Armoured in typical Sith Trooper fashion and accompanied by several battle-droids, they seemed to survey everyone and everything around the plaza, although most apparently stood still and watched. Dressed as he was, Sharho was able to pass, although only to be confronted by an even greater authority.

“I have not seen you around before”. A Human Sith stood at the entrance to the Citadel. Dressed in heavy red armour that looked like the sort worn by shock troopers, as well as a large black cape, Sharho could tell that this man was akin to a guard. Three more were standing around, although appeared disinterested in, letting their colleague handle the matter. He sneered. “An apprentice I see... You conceal your thoughts well, young one. Do state your business”.
Indeed, Sharho was adept at hiding his thoughts from others. He himself believed that those who knew you, knew your weaknesses, a risky affair and a reason why he had none. However, he did not appreciate the term ‘Young One’. For all that the Sith known, he could be more powerful than he was. Despite this, Sharho had to form an answer, lest he be challenged. “I came from Korriban to study, as I’m sure you know, the Citadel holds many wonders.”
“This place holds nothing but the Emperor’s Throne which is off-limits to the likes of you...” The Human sneered again; Sharho didn’t understand what he was sneering at, himself or the fact that from his perspective, there was nothing worth guarding in the Citadel. Sharho ignored his sneer either way. “You may go in, I’m sure someone as smart as you can figure out not to go where no allowed.”
A sarcastic remark as Sharho’s expense, although if challenged, the Guard would certainly get aid from his three other “friends”. The Zabrak’s remark was only half true however, he had really come to set free a Muun Banker who had promised to support him with a pool of money should he do so. There had to be easier, more fulfilling way to earn money. Perhaps one that used his skills as a Sith?

Sharho proceeded through the halls of the Citadel. He saw many of his kind from many different races, all of whom were engrossed in their own devices. A couple were utilising holocrons, others were seemingly in deep thought while some were watching the crowd as he did. In particular, he locked eyes with one female with a tattoo that seemed foreign. Neither party smiled and Sharho turned his attention to another subject.
Unfortunately, all the holocrons here were recent, done by the current members of the Dark Council, thus teaching the currently known ways of the Dark Side and so didn’t have much current value. All the interesting holocrons were probably locked in a vault somewhere in the lower levels. Attempting to use one would probably result in the happy Sith out front to execute him where he stood. Despite being smart, Sharho would admit that he had a lot to learn.
He picked up one of the small pyramids anyway, going with the train of thought that there was no harm in looking and he had time to kill. A hologram of a heavily cloaked individual protruded from the point of the pyramid. “In this holocron, you shall learn the Rite of Commencement, the very rite used to imbue these holocron with the makers’ essence. It is believed that the same Rite has been used for thousands of years-“
With a wave of his hand, Sharho closed the holocron’s transmission and placed it back where it belonged. Not that he wasn’t interested, but he wasn’t ready. He recalled his master saying that there was a time and place for everything. Although referring to precision attacks, it could be related to everything, and Sharho just didn’t feel ready to learn these things, just as he was not ready to unveil his “Master Plan”. There was a time and place for everything.

Pt3 - The Bounty Hunter

It had been three hours and the Citadel had not lost its charm. Despite most of its charms taking the form of intellectual pursuits, it still held a vast amount of wonder as in history, the Sith Empire had built the massive structure in only the first few years of re-finding the great world. Sharho had since found several holocrons that held genuinely interesting information, conveyed by none other than those that made up the Dark Council. One interesting article had a Sith Lord going back into Korriban’s history as the homeworld for the original Sith race and how they were the ones that taught the Jedi Exiles the art of forming Holocrons, while another expressed a view that meditation is a useful technique to channel hatred. After a while though, Sharho felt that it was time to investigate more of the Citadel.

The finding and re-taking of Dromund was an obvious milestone for the Sith Empire and was displayed all throughout the Citadel in carvings and text. But Sharho had heard the old argument before. Some believed that the colonisation of Dromund was a display of great power from the Sith Empire, while others thought it made the Sith look weak, scavenging old backwater planets. Sharho formed no opinion of his own, but kept the points in mind, should be need them for whatever reason.
He descended into the lower floors of the Citadel, hoping to find something interesting or perhaps even worthy to his schemes. Alas, on the bottom-most level, the only art was the design of the generator powering the Citadel. It was still worthy of interest however. This was a potential weakness. Although the generator might fail, there were plenty of back-ups scattered around the large basement.
Analysing the great behemoth, it indeed seemed like a fine piece of machinery, although Sharho never got involved with mechanics any more than a simple data-pad, or control panel. Even his lightsabre was simplistic by most standards. Squinting hard at the generator, Sharho could spot all sorts of individual parts that it was made up of. But there, a cooling port. A single stab down in would probably cause the machine to overheat, and even, explode.
“Is something the matter, my Lord?” a scared voice emerged from the shadows. Even as an Apprentice, the young Sith could sense the fear like mist surrounding the man. He swivelled round to confront the person of saw an elderly Torguta. There was no power in this person, Sharho didn’t need the force to tell that, this man’s loyalty to the Emperor was all that must be keeping him going.
“No,” Was the reply, Sharho walked back to where he had come from, “It’s quite alright. I’ll be going now”, and so he left for the elevator, but not before throwing some credits the man’s way. “Buy yourself a treat”. The Torguta gave him a stare that perfectly blended surprise with gratitude. He obviously never got tips. But, Sharho may need him one day, and with that act going against the norm, he would be sure to remember him.
As Sharho proceeded into the lift, he thought, that man must be the only non-Sith allowed in the Citadel, with exception to Imperial Intelligence and the odd Bounty Hunter. Once out of the ground, the Zabrak was met with a gorgeous view that he had not cared to look at on his first trip down. The landscape was filled with tall spires, and although it was only noon, their lit windows looked like dots of light protruding from the dark storm of the weather.
The Sith Apprentice found himself admiring the view, never before captivated by a sight of a world’s surface. Korriban appeared as just a red dust ball, while his Father’s station was just a hunk of metal in space. Many Sith severed ties to the life prior to learning the ways of the dark side. His master on the other hand, decided that remembering the assault on his family would be useful in channelling hate against the Republic. Sharho found that he was correct.

The lift stopped and allowed another person to enter. However, this one was no Sith, didn’t even dress like one – wearing armour akin to something a Mandalorian would, with a helmet that seemed to suit an alien snout. The armour itself was a dull grey, with a red trim and the helmet looked similar to one worn by Republic Troopers. On the left shoulder pad, the word “E.P.O.C.H” was clearly painted, although it was unfamiliar to Sharho. “A bounty hunter, I presume?”
The person slowly reared his head, eyes hidden behind a visor. “Indeed,” came the reply. “I come to give a report to the Sith Lord Darth Drenoss...” That gentle hiss revealed to Sharho that the bounty hunter was a reptilian species. Possibly Barabel or Trandoshan. Sharho also noticed the weaponry the individual was carrying. A vibroblade and a blaster strapped to his back, he would have thought that these would be confiscated on entry, but obviously not.
“And pray tell – what is this E.P.O.C.H?” Sharho’s inquisitive nature compelled him to ask. He had always heard that curiosity killed the Spukamas, and his master greatly favoured keeping to one’s self. Especially when it came to business. However, it was something that was bothering the Zabrak, staring at the word in the face. Knowledge was power, even if it was something as small as this acronym.
The bounty hunter must have been expecting some sort of continuation of the conversation because Sharho’s question was instantly answered. “Elimination and Protection Operationss for Contractual Hire. It iss an agency that will deal with anything you need. Anything...”, for the last part, the Bounty Hunter seemed to put a little emphasis on it and gave a short stare in conjunction, not too subtly implying that this E.P.O.C.H dealt with illicit operations as well.
Eventually, the Bounty Hunter exited the lift. He had never spoken to one before, but then, hardly needed their services – yet. In his mind, Bounty Hunters would indeed have a place in his Master Plan. He would keep the name E.P.O.C.H in his head, he may well need their services one day. Perhaps he could even work for them at some point? He needed a source of income and it appeared to him that the life of a Bounty Hunter was full of variety and quite entertaining.

Sharho spent the rest of the day roaming around the Citadel. Higher floors were out of bounds, especially for the Emperor’s Throne room. It was interesting to know that Sharho was just below the controlling authority for the entire Empire, so close and yet so far away. It was especially interesting to know that the Emperor had remained in power for more than a thousand years. Or so the legend told.
Some believed that the Emperor was an ancient Human-Sith Hybrid, much like the first Emperor of the Sith, Naga Sadow. This would explain his length stay in power, and no-one save for perhaps members of the Dark Council had seen his face, constantly shrouded in the shadows, the it was quite the possibility. However, this also meant that the Emperor was indeed, mortal, and so could be eliminated.
When Sharho returned outside, the sky was pitch black and the sky crackled with anger. From the top of the steps, Sharho could see everything going on. People were hurrying to their homes, Sith Troopers still patrolled the streets and he could see some cloaked figures much like himself wandering off into the distance. Everyone went their separate way it seemed. Sharho Aamomon would just have to find his.

Pt4 - The Banker

As it happened, the Muun Banker, Rons Holill, was released just three days after the visit to the Magistrate. Sharho had not expected for the Magistrate to work so quickly, let alone the paperwork to go through so fast. It seemed that he would be getting home early. The Zabrak Sith was quick to get to the jail. The place surprised him as being very clean and ordered, whilst high security was a given. The Muun was not to be released for a while, and so Sharho bided his time exploring what little he could of the complex. Apparently, this was where many of the Sith Empire’s low risk prisoners were taken. This usually meant con artists, fraudsters and petty thefts. Rons was all of these, although even so, he could be easily bent in any direction given the incentive. Eventually the banker, flanked by two guards, emerged from a five inch thick blast door, greeting Sharho with admirable happiness.

“I take it that you where the one behind this rescue from this awful place?” Rons Holill stared at the Sith with a wide grin that stretched his narrow face. It was a wonder if he was genuinely happy to see Sharho, or simply glad to be out of the prison. “I tell you – another week in there and I would have died! I’m not joking, there’s the guards, other prisoners and the food! I swear they try to kill us with that garbage!”
“Nice to see you too, Rons,” Sharho said blandly. He didn’t know about other Muuns, but if Rons was anything to go by, they were all scared, eccentric and cautious individuals. He had heard of Muunalist, their home world which was rising to be the centre of commerce for the Republic, rivalling other worlds such as Telerath. He was unsure if the Sith Empire was going to contest for it, probably not in their current stalemate. “But I don’t do things for free, you know.” he continued.
The Muun gave a small sigh, Holill obviously didn’t want to be discussing anything to do with money at the moment, but Sharho knew with people like these that if you let them slip out of your fingers, you would never see them again, he had to press the matter. “Yes, yes,” Rons replied wearily, running his long fingers around his chin. “But how is your Master these days? I have not seen him for a while.”
There is was. Rons was trying to change the subject and if he got to a spaceport at this rate, he’d be on the other side of the Galaxy in no time. “He’s fine, but I still believe there’s a little matter of our deal...” The banker visibly trembled at this sentence. It was quite obvious that he had little money now after his scandal and didn’t want to part with few crumbs he had, let alone to an unforgiving Sith.
“What deal?” said the Muun, seemingly desperate to escape any type of economic retribution. Sharho didn’t need the force to tell that Rons was tense, his worried frowning and shifting eyes were testament to that fact. “Your rescuing me from jail was a friendly gesture, I’m sure? I mean, we’re friends, right?” The Muun looked hopeful, slightly hunching, perhaps cowering or making himself look weak.
Sharho didn’t have any real friends. He never had anyone he got close to. Sith as a rule didn’t have many friends, and having Rons as his only one was by far not a good beginning. “No Rons. You sent me a transmission saying that if I freed you, you’d reward me. Now here’s your side of the bargain.” Sharho grabbed the Banker’s arm, he flinched tremendously. “I want a cache of 200,000 credits put aside for me for collection in say... Ten years. Twenty at the most”
The Muun’s face humorously distorted. “200,000 Credits?!” Rons spluttered. Sharho could feel that he was confused, angry, upset and even surprised. “Y-you can by a new Mandalorian Starfighter for that much!” He seemed franticly trying to gather himself. “There is no way that I’ll be able to do that for you! No way!” Sharho sighed. Surely the entire race couldn’t possibly be like this. He was worse than a Neimodian.
“You can easily gather that money in a dozen years...” came the reply from the Sith Apprentice, “And you’ll easily make three times that amount in the five years that you would have been in prison”. Sharho slowly released his grip whilst Rons stared at the dark sky, presumably doing the maths in his head. He then looked back down at the Zabrak and slowly nodded. “Good”, he continued, “I’m going to need a Communication channel to reach you on”.
It was now Ron’s turn to give a sigh. Now what must be about 500 metres from the Spaceport, the Muun slowly retrieved his datapad from within the folds of his clothes. It has been bashed about slightly as it had been in the Sith Prison Staff’s possession for a while before given back, but it was still usable. Sharho duly transferred a series of frequency numbers onto his own datapad. “Lovely doing business with you, Rons”.

It was two weeks later and Sharho decided to cut his month-long visit short. Pleased with what he had accomplished and satisfied with seeing some of the sights that Dromund had to offer. The very Spaceport that Rons used to get back to Muunalist was now where Sharho patiently waited. It was a quaint place. Over to the north of the area, he could vaguely spot military vehicles, although it was too far to see what their exact purpose was.
The plan was to board a shuttle up to a commercial cruiser. Due to the many ties Dromund had with Korriban, independent businesses decided to cash in and offer flights between the two worlds. Competition ensured that prices remained low. One day, the Imperial Navy would provide him with his own Ship, until then, he would mingle with the crowds. Once back on Korriban, Sharho’s training would resume. His master had a lot still to teach him.
It was nice to know that he would one day have an amount of money that would contribute to his cause. The purpose of the amount had not been specifically decided yet, but Sharho knew roughly on what he would spend it on. Of course, the winds could change and he could find himself purchasing something else more valuable to the “Master Plan”. In any case, he would still need more, from where he would get it was debatable.
The shuttle arrived on timing and Sharho found himself, along with many more people, forced in to a confined space. Luck had him pressed up against a Gamorrean brute. It was definitely not the most pleasant experience. Leaving the atmosphere was the worst part, being a shaky ride, especially with the rough weather. The turbulence was almost unbearable, although there was nowhere to go.
It was troubling to know that these powerful rituals were destroying the planet. If the Dark Side was the right pathway, then why was it causing so much environmental damage? Perhaps the Emperor was doing more bad than he was good? It was an interesting deliberation. Time would tell it would seem. And similarly, time would tell of Sharho’s “Master Plan”. What is it? Who’s involved? Why would he need a large amount of credits? It would appear that only he knows.

I very like this. It's clear but not simple. It goes very easily and quickly.

*thumbs up*

Thank you It's only a taste of my new alt character, but think you can read a lot into it. Also - he will be linked to the E.P.O.C.H in a way that will favour his "Master Plan" (the hard part is making in possible to pull off in-game )

Great read Harl, that poor Twi'lek almost shat himself ^^

'Is this a possible Sith alt in the works?' was part of my original reply post, but I see he is! Are we talking Sith Warrior here?

Thanks, but nope, he's an Inquisitor. But, instead of being a fast-assassin-type like Darth Maul, he'll be a more calculating and caster type like Darth Sideous. I doubt he'll have any epic duels with anyone from E.P.O.C.H though, but who knows?

Oh, and when he get's it, he'll be Darth Fernus. I'm going with the Darth = "In" for Darth Vader or Darth Sideous (Invader and Insideous respectively) although Ferno doesn't sound as good.

Another Sith Inquisitor!