Vaylin's lust for violence would be perfect for an encounter of this magnitude, although Arcann would monitor his sister's progress throughout the skirmish to ensure that she wouldn't lose complete control of her faculties. He had seen her give herself over to her more...unstable proclivities only a handful of times and even he was chilled by her behavior. While he wanted to wipe them all out here and now, the strategist within the young ruler of the Eternal Throne knew that keeping at least Revan alive would be beneficial. The kind of power Arcann could extract from the galactic legend was too much of an opportunity to pass up. Then again, leaving him alive would only encourage more of this heroic stupidity from his followers. 

[i]While you contemplate, your enemies gain an advantage. Strike. NOW.[/i]

His one visible eye widened slightly at the command that rang through his mind, casting a sweeping glance at the would-be heroes with an almost invisible nod. 
"You will all succumb to the might of the Eternal Throne. The power of the Throne demands it." He thrust his left arm upward, violet tendrils snaking from his arm, rapidly undulating in a spherical pattern above the elevated hand, saber crackling to life in the other. 
"STOP HIM! STOP HIM NOW!" Meetra called out hoarsely, shoving Revan aside with a surprising amount of Force as she joined Yerbol and Ethan in a charge forward. 
"I love it when this happens." Vaylin grinned, casting a hungry glance at Kytra, Revan and Aria, sabers out to her side as she dashed forward, moving to engage the trio just as the tendrils that Arcann had summoned exploded outward, piercing the charging Qyaari and Meetra with ferocity. While the tendrils didn't generate physical force, the Force users who were primed to attack Arcann staggered, Ethan collapsing to one knee before coughing up a mixture of blood and bile. 
"Fight it!" Meetra exhorted, teeth gritted as she thrust her hands forward, bolts of energy crackling from her palms that Arcann deflected deftly with his hazy, yellow-tinted blade as he chuckled.
"Even after all the power you've given me, you manage to muster up even more."
"The Force is not something you can...rob someone of!" With a shout, the bolts that had once been projecting forward now collapsed into a singular beam that she blasted in Arcann's direction, the Emperor spinning to his right a half-second too late, the beam cutting through his right shoulder with tenacity. A momentary groan, then a laugh. 
"Do you really believe that to be true? After all you've gone through." Yerbol had managed to fight off the searing pain that had shot through his limbs and was in the process of getting Ethan back on his feet when the trio watched as the gaping hole that Meetra's attack had created vanished, bone and flesh sewing together in a matter of seconds. 
"I took the power you've consumed from others and brought it into myself. Now, I have the opportunity to finish what your Darth Nihilus could never accomplish: rip the Force from your very soul." He nodded towards the now functional Qyaari.
"They too will have the opportunity to serve the Empire, as you have, Meetra. The Force will propel the Eternal Empire to the heights that my father could never take it." He crouched, saber pointed forward. 
"Now then, to complete the extraction process personally." 

___

It was strange to not face any resistance on an enemy ship, Neta assuming that the forces they had faced on the ground were more than likely deployed all from this vessel. Either the enemies they were facing had no tactical sense whatsoever OR they were so confident in the abilities of the Sith (or whatever they were) that remained onboard that they could throw everything they had at their new-found enemies without fear of losing control of their ship. Whatever the case, Neta would make sure that they would pay for their stupidity or arrogance. 

Starting with the sabotage of their nav computer. 

The spec ops officer had split to the left of their original position, navigating the gleaming ebony hallways as quickly (and safely) as she could. She made a few observations in her trek, one of which was that there were no posted signs or directions for crew members. Although the droids and small sample size of the population they had met spoke Basic, there were no signs on the ship to indicate where even the bridge was. Something else she discovered was that the doors she used to access different passageways had no active security measures. No turrets, cameras, motion sensors, not even a karkin fingerprint reader. Although this made her roaming much easier than anticipated, there was a growing sense of panic within the operative. This was TOO easy. Whenever something was this simple, there was always something lurking in the shadows waiting for the right opportunity to pounce. 

With a bit of dumb luck and backtracking, she found her way to what appeared to be the bridge based on the elevated, circular platform in the center of the room, the wide viewports opposite the entrance and rows of terminals against the walls, chairs in front of said terminals unoccupied. Mumbling a curse, she gingerly made her way to the assumed Captain's chair (or platform in this case) and stepped into the center of the area. A nasally, robotic voice thudded across embedded speakers:
"Access codes?" Ah, there it is. Her eyes bounced around the room for any hint of a terminal she could hack that might have the codes she needed, the voice ringing again:
"Access codes?" Deciding to take a gamble, she ran off the platform to the nearest terminal, pulling up a screen that asked for credentials. 
"Access codes?" 

She knew that was a catch to her initial ease of access. 

Time to get to work. 

____

Yerbol thudded against a wall, grimacing as he heard a couple of cracks from around his spine, indicating that his ribcage might have fractured slightly. In the grand scheme of this fight, that was the least of his concerns, shaking his head as he called for his saber, which had been flung from his hand after Arcann had thrown him against the wall in a fight that was beginning to make Yerbol very concerned. 

They weren't winning. 

Meetra was putting up the best fight out of the three, dodging blows with twirls, aerial maneuvers and delivering blows with various Force attacks; Ethan and Yerbol, however, were lagging far behind. Their strikes and parries were slow, forced, Arcann managing to cut through their defenses at lightspeed. Ethan had been sliced across the shoulder several times and Yerbol almost had his legs amputated if it hadn't been for Meetra pulling Arcann off his feet a second before his saber connected. The most frustrating part of all this was that Yerbol, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't muster the kind of energy he was used to utilizing nor could he feel his bond with Aria as strongly as he normally did. Whatever Arcann had done with those tendril...things had affected he and Ethan's connection to the Force. Frankly, he and his apprentice were more of a liability in this fight. 
"Come now, 'Champion'! I expected more from you." He pointed his saber at Yerbol with a smirk only half-visible thanks to the mask he wore. 
"Yerbol!" Meetra and Ethan rejoined him opposite of Arcann.
"What did you do to us, Arcann?"
"I simply took some of your power. It has proven quite useful already." The smirk grew wider. 
"Arcann can manipulate the Force in a way that I didn't think possible...that I never wanted to see become possible." Meetra hissed, her eyes ablaze. 
"You were given a gift, Meetra, a powerful, unstoppable boon that could have seen you become the most powerful being in the entire galaxy. I believe it only just that I use the gift you neglected."
"You know NOTHING of what you speak, boy!" The Exile spit out, moving slightly forward. 
"Nihilus, Kreia, Sion, all of them were eaten alive by their desire for the Force, to leech as much power as they could for their own ends. I saw with my own eyes how they were torn apart by their pursuits and I swore that it would never happen to me, to anyone else." Another step forward. 
"I will NOT allow a petulant, irreverent child to turn all the years of suffering I endured onto the rest of the galaxy. This ends HERE!" Yerbol and Ethan could only stand back and watch as Meetra summoned the same tendrils that Arcann had conjured earlier, except these entities moved with lightning precision towards Arcann, who severed several from the initial onslaught, but was eventually overwhelmed by the assault. 
"You WILL release the power you've leeched from me and I will ensure that no one else is harmed by your greed!" Her eyes, normally a honey-amber, now glowed a crimsonish violet as she continued closer to Arcann, who was now letting out intermittent moans of anguish. 
"Yerbol, Ethan, close your eyes, focus on the power that is echoing through this room and channel it all towards me!" 
"Wha-"
"Just do what the woman says, Ethan!" As Yerbol closed his eyes, a sudden jolt of something hot, burning, coursed through him, jaw tightening as he suppressed the urge to scream.
"Keep at it!" 
"NO! Nooo, not-"

[i]You've done well, my son. Exactly what I had planned. If you will excuse me, I believe this is where I will take over.[/i]

Suddenly, a smile crossed Arcann's face, his demeanor morphing, eye narrowing. Before any could react, Arcann broke the grip Meetra had on him, flicking his wrist towards him and igniting his saber just as the once seething Meetra flew towards him thanks to the gesture. Yerbol opened his eyes just in time to see Meetra being impaled on Arcann's saber. He wanted to move, yet his feet were locked to the ground, limbs paralyzed. Through the blood that gushed out of Meetra's mouth and mid-section, she still made the effort to look Arcann in the eye.
"Y...o..u...."
"Your stranglehold on the Force ends here, Meetra Surik." With another flick, Meetra's limp corpse was discarded haphazardly against a nearby wall, Arcann now examining the Qyaari.
"Your power is impressive." He looked in the direction of Yerbol, who was still fighting to regain control of his body. 
"Your apprentice is nothing compared to what I want from you." He strode forward, hand in front of his body.
"Your connection to the Force will be mine." Arcann closed his eye for a moment, his open hand clenching as the pain within Yerbol ascended, the Champion forced to endure the searing pain that threatened to black out his vision. There was a ripping, a tearing that he tried to fight, tried so hard to battle against, yet in a matter of moments the violence was complete. 

And he felt.

Nothing. 

Nodding, he then pointed his saber at Ethan.
"Not worth the effort." He raised his saber overhead.