Terenta-Tech 1 (Patreon)

REPUBLIC SIS DOSSIER 76A-27: DARTH Terent

Clearance Level Aurek Required

Compiled by SIS Agent Galen Korr, with additional observations by Jedi Orgus Dinn, Nomen Karr, and Tyrek Vao

Birth Name: Arben Scire

Species: Sith Pureblood

Homeworld: Dromund Kaas (Ragnoth)

Age: 23

Personality: Noted to be an odd Sith by his peers, he is observed as being energetic and passionate in all that he dedicates his focus on. He has a particular passion for technology, several Republic soldiers reporting that he asked a myriad of questions about their equipment even as he attacked them.

When leading military forces, he behaves more like a trained officer than a Sith Lord. This has led some to believe that he went through Imperial Officer Training in addition to graduating from the Sadow Academy on Korriban.

Armament: Darth Terent carries a doublebladed lightsaber (referred to by some as a saberstaff) as his primary weapon. However, his armor has been heavily modified to include a shoulder mounted blaster rifle as well as a wrist mounted micro-missile launcher. Additional armor-based weaponry possible, albeit unobserved.

Armor: Darth Terent is always observed in custom designed and built Sith armor. Based on observed capabilities and reports of jedi that survived combat with him, it is believed that the armor has been modified with Sith Alchemy. To what extent is unknown.

Force Abilities: Darth Terent has displayed extreme strength, magnitude, and finesse with telekinesis, the standard level of Force based physical augmentation, but a distinct lack of the traditional offensive Force abilities commonly found among even among rank and file Sith. SIS investigations into this oddity have discovered that this is due to lacking any sort of aptitude in the traditional energy based Force Abilities.

What he does have an affinity for is a rare skill referred to as Force Suppression. The effect of which is equivalent to a jamming signal centered around himself. Force Sensitives, both jedi and sith, that he is fighting find extreme difficulty in utilizing the Force while he is using this ability. Based on his observed aptitude, it is suspected that his skill with Force Suppression is so great that he can effectively cut off all but the most powerful of masters from the Force.

Additionally, it is suspected but unconfirmed that he possesses great skill in the arts of Sith Alchemy and Mechu Deru.

Noted Feats: Graduated the Sadow Academy at the age of 17, slaying a Terentatek for his final trial. Earning the rank of Lord at age 20 and his Darth title at age 23. Chosen to lead an assault on a major Republic world, target currently unknown, by Darth Marr.

[hr][/hr]

A groan of pain over the rhythmic pulsing of an energy cell pulled the red skinned Sith's attention from the datapad he was reading. It was disappointing how much accurate information on him the SIS had managed to compile, though not too surprising. Nothing they had was classified, and there were several things they didn't know about his capabilities.

But, he was being rude, addressing his prisoner, Darth Terent gave as best a smile as possible and said, "Welcome back to the land of the living, Jedi Knight Satele Shan." You have caused us to be placed in quite a predicament.”

“A shame the mission failed, Darth Terent,” the brunette human jedi snapped.

“Oh you achieved your primary mission objective, after a fashion,” he reassured her, making the thirty two year old woman blink in confusion. He weakened his Force Suppression field, just enough for her to sense the truth of his words, before bringing it back up full force.

“While the SIS’s secondary goal of rescuing you and spiriting you back to Republic space before I could have my wicked way with you…” Darth Terent paused before he muttered, “That came out wrong. Anyway, while the rescue part of their mission failed, their other objective, removing me from the war, succeeded, just not the way they had been anticipating.”

Darth Terent stood from the chair he’d been sitting in, and began pacing, his aura in the Force feeling less like a murderous killer and more like a youngling dealing with a stubborn question on an exam. Satele looked at the Sith with a level of amused bafflement. Maybe it was the lingering remnants of whatever technique he used to capture her, but she had been expecting him to feel more like the terentatek his title came from instead of an awkward teen. She hadn’t believed it when she first heard about him, but seeing his face, she could now fully believe he was nine years younger than her. He had a youthful aura to him, one that despite his achievements in both battle and the Force, made far too many (herself included) underestimate him.

“… the relativistic shields, so Ragnos knows when we’ll drop out of hyperspace!”

Satele blinked, refocusing on the young Sith Lord. Mentally reconciling all that he’d said while she was distracted by her thoughts, she winced as she realized what had happened. Setting that aside, she asked, “How’d you capture me?”

It was now Darth Terent’s turn to blink as his thoughts were interrupted. Turning to look at her, a glint of amusement in his eyes which glowed orange like two tiny embers, he said an a plain and simple voice, “I had you in a saber lock then shot you with a stun round.”

The look of shocked disbelief on the jedi’s face made Darth Terent laugh. So many Force Sensitives, even his fellow sith, disregarded the usefulness of blaster-based technology. Oh sure, lightsabers were absolutely wizard, but he’d lost count of the number of times he’d caught jedi or rival sith off guard with that tactic. He’d originally had some rather grand plans regarding his current captive, plans now rendered moot given the damage to the relativistic shielding. With those out, his ship, the Seeker of Knowledge, was no longer protected from special relativity. The galaxy was moving on, whizzing by as they traveled through hyperspace. When they finally reached the rendezvous point at Geonosis, the fleet he was meeting with would be long gone, everyone that anyone on the ship had known would almost certainly be dead.

Why not drop out of hyperspace as soon as they realized the damage? Too risky. Ending a hyperspace jump early, before the plotted destination, delivered massive strain on the engines. Massive enough strain that it might cause the hyperdrive and the engines to go critical.

Shaking his head, Darth Terent pushed that aside and addressed Shan, “While I originally planned on making you fall to the Dark Side and join the Sith for the effect of the Jedi’s most prominent members defecting would cause to Republic morale, that’s no longer necessary. Plus some of the more… interesting methods would result in unacceptable risk of miscarriage.”

“Miscarriage?” Shan asked in surprise and confusion.

“Indeed, you are pregnant my dear. About three, four weeks along.”

“How… how long have I…”

“Jedi Shan,” Darth Terent snapped with a snarl and an insulted scowl at what she was implying, his power in the Force bearing down on her with an oppressive air, the chair he’d been sitting in along with all other loose items in the room rattling in resonance with his anger. “You have been unconscious for two standard days. I did not keep you comatose and rape you. I freely admit that my standards for consent are most likely detestable and deplorable to you, but taking a woman when she’s not even awake is insulting and boring.”

He watched as her eyes danced, realizing when and where she’d have become pregnant and who the father was. He could ask, but he honestly didn’t care. He had a month to start working on her, and in many ways breaking a jedi was easier than a soldier would be. But while he could use the traditional methods used to turn jedi to the Dark Side, he had always preferred the methods of manipulation that worked on strong willed individuals. Shan wouldn’t be expecting it either, leaving her less on guard against classic manipulation techniques.

Pressing a button on his gauntlet, Darth Terent allowed himself to chuckle as Shan started at the field keeping her within the energy cell turned off. Holding out a hand to her, he adopted a cocky smirk and said, “Come along. You are eating for two now, and I’m not so cruel as to starve a mother to be.”

Shan narrowed her eyes at him, before walking past him, ignoring his offered hand, as he had expected. Smirk still on his face, he led her to one of the many mess halls. Directing her to a table, he pulled out a chair for her, which she reluctantly took and allowed him to push it in for her.

As Darth Terent went to fetch two plates for them, Satele took the opportunity to observe the imperial soldiers, officers, and crewmembers in the mess hall around her. In many ways, it was like she was back on a Republic vessel, surrounded by members of the Republic Armed Forces as Jace got them food. In others…

“Ragnos dammit Kyr, if you touch my food again I will juggle your eyeballs with my spoon!”

She was clearly surrounded by those that willingly served the likes of the Sith. Threatening violence for the smallest of slights, truly the…

"It’s not a serious threat," Darth Terent's voice pulled her from her thoughts as he set a plate in front of her. "You can tell by both the volume and the elaborate nature. The louder and more elaborate a threat is, the less serious the one making the threat means it. The quieter and simpler, the more serious."

"It’s part of what makes conversations between Jedi and Sith tend to end in a fight," a reedy, feminine voice added from behind Satele. Turning her head, she was surprised to see the speaker was a member of the reclusive chiss species. Especially with a lightsaber on her belt. "A Sith says something like 'keep preaching and I'll burn out your tongue with my lightsaber.' A standard threat for when asking someone to stop talking. The jedi takes it seriously and responds with 'It pains me to have to kill you,' all solemn like.

"To the Sith in this scenario, the words and the way they were said tells the Sith 'it doesn't matter what you say, I have decided that one of us is dying.'"

"Shan, my apprentice, Semaki. Apprentice, Jedi Shan here is to be given the POW treatment, with the usual Jedi/Sith restrictions,” Darth Terent stated, gesturing to each woman as he introduced them.

Darth Terent looked to be about to say something else as he pulled out a datapad, but an officer came up and whispered something to him. Satele blocked out the conversation, focusing instead on the food in front of her. A bowl of some sort of soup, along with what looked like a salad, but the greens weren’t like any leafy vegetable she was familiar with. Taking a bite of the salad, there was a vinegary bite from the dressing and the greens were much saltier than she was used to, but it was better than she’d been expecting. The soup had extremely thin noodles along with bits of what felt and tasted like some sort of shellfish, but not one that she was familiar with.

Movement across the table pulled Satele’s attention as her captor held his still-gauntleted wrist up to his mouth and spoke, his voice echoing over the ship’s intercom, “Attention, this is Darth Terent. I would like to inform everyone that Syn Battalion, Fifth Company will be putting on performances each night in Aurek Hanger. They’ve been working on their harmonies, so let’s give them some support. Standard rules apply, no ribbing them for bad singing unless you’re there. That means you Kharek.”

There was laughter throughout the mess hall as Darth Terent shut off the comm in his oversized gauntlet, turning back to his own bowl of soup which was a much brighter red than her own, almost matching the color of a sith’s lightsaber. Just looking at it made her mouth burn, she could feel the spices that must have overwhelmed anything else in her nose, even across the table. Yet, despite the pain such a dish would cause, Darth Terent looked perfectly content.

“Finally got the flavor right. Apprentice, remind me to give the chef a bonus. It’s about time he got the correct amount of peppers in this,” the surely masochistic sith lord said as he activated the datapad and began to read as he ate.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to worry about the fumes burning your face off,” his apprentice drawled, leaning away from the bowl of her master’s soup.