A fallen champion

Your contemplation is cut short by the whine of the next prisoner. “Pease. I am a fellow Sith. Judge me with an open mind and grant me a trial by combat. I beg you.” His whining is pathetic and you wonder how such a worm passed the training. He radiates weakness and is resigned to ****, you have never felt such frailty in a **** user and you find yourself angered by his pathetic feelings. You turn to Knash and raise a questioning eyebrow. He smartly passes over your datapad. “This pile of waste is Devotek. Once a valued Sith champion, until he botched an important mission and caused a thousand imperial deaths. Now, look at him.”

Davotek responds pleadingly and looks beseechingly into your eyes. You know this is the sort of worm that will allow the Jedi to destroy all Sith. His weakness would see the empire crash down around you all. “I served faithfully for twenty-four years, then one mistake and they threw me away. Now I have been left here to rot please let me feel the weight of a weapon once more.”

You're angered by his **** pleads and you tower before him. “If you want a weapon you can take one. You have the ****! If you wanted you would use it and seize Knash’s lightsaber. So do it, take a weapon!” You stare intently at him but all you see is fear. You radiate power, passion and strength he looks to Knash’s lightsaber then looks away avoiding your eye. You know what Tremel would want and you dutifully oblige.

You raise your hand and tighten the **** around his throat. He gasps for air and to your disgust, he doesn’t attempt to resist with his own power. You raise him off the ground and **** him to dangle as he dies. His feet flail pathetically and his grasps at the invisible rope that tightens around his neck. It's then that you snap his neck into splinters twisting his head around to the back. The bone shredding crack is sickening and with a crunch, he falls lifelessly to the floor.

“Good. I won’t have to look at his sad, weathered face anymore. Thank you.” Knash is nodding and sniffs casually as he inputs the results into his datapad. “Don’t mention it.” You say looking to the third and final prisoner. He is a Duros male and he sits upon the floor of his cell. He looks nervously up to you as you approach the glowing bars of his prison.