One Will

[Insidious]

Mustafar

Pain coursed its way through every inch of his body. Blood trickled from his nose and his mouth as he climbed across the volcanic surface. He could hear the telltale sound of lightsabers clashing somewhere behind him. His own still buzzed just a hand's length from his face. He felt like death. Even so, today would not be the day that the shadow claimed him. He was determined on that front at least. Vix Condor would not die after having come so far.

"You despise the others for their progress. Use it," a voice said, though whether it had come from his own mind or somewhere outside, he could not tell.

As he looked up, two shadowy figures in black were clearly watching the "training", if it could be called that. He knew one of his cohorts had died already. He was close to it as it was. But he fought the urge to simply collapse into the volcanic ash and slip into the black sleep. No...he would make the others pay.

Letting out a primal cry and pushing himself to his feet, Vix used his limited force abilities to propel himself into the air and back into the fray.

[ObsoleteOne]

Mustafar

The taller of the two dark figures observing the training watched the pitiful struggle of the new trainees stoically. No words were needed, his mere presence filled minds of the weak willed fools fighting for the Emperor's scraps with dread. He felt only contempt towards his master's new playthings. It mattered little that he had been put in charge of this ridiculous Inquisitorius program. He still hated them. And yet, with the Grand Inquisitor gone - he was now forced to deal directly with their training more often than before which in turn derailed his own plans and gave rise to potential competitors.

Not that any of these fools could pose a threat to him. They were simply that far beneath him in their potential. Nonetheless, they were still tools for enforcing the Emperor's will and until he was ready to challenge his master - he had little choice but to do as the Emperor commanded.

[Insidious]

Mustafar

These adepts were just beginning to to scour the depths of their hatred. Jealousy for one another another's progress seeped through their minds as easily as the blood flowed through their veins. They were not Jedi. They were not Sith. But they would serve their purpose.

"There is an unsettling. The light finds strength."

A few moments of silence passed between the two Sith lords, broken only by the telltale clash of lightsabers. Then the first Sith lord, gave further meaning to his words.

"How many Jedi remain? How many defy the Empire?" the first robed figure asked calmly, still looking down at the dark side adepts whose red sabers clashed against one another ferociously.

[ObsoleteOne]

Mustafar

"It does not matter how many remain, master. The Jedi are a disease in the face of the galaxy to be eradicated." The second dark figure wearing a cape replied to the robed one after a moment of silence. "I will hunt them down. To the very last one."