Cyrus Vanscot

Cyrus Vanscot is a human male, currently enrolled in the One Sith Academy on Solaria. Among other things, he's known for his almost instinctive use of sarcasm and his use of a training saber despite the other students' use of real lightsabers. Recently, of course, he has acquired his own lightsaber.

Early Life

Born to the head of House Vanscot, Mycann Vanscot, and a mother whom he never knew the name of, let alone the face of, Cyrus grew up in relative comfort. For many years of his life, he'd call the tropical world of Kaal his home. His father spent what little time he could with him, but typically, he was left in the care of nanny droids, and his uncle, Lord Lysander Vanscot of the Sith Empire.

Things began to change, however, at roughly age five, when his Force Sensitivity began to manifest fully. He still fondly recalls how he threw the nanny droid in charge of watching him out the window. This worried his father, who had intended for Cyrus to one day inherit the title of Baron of House Vanscot, the leader of the House. This was no small task of course, given his family currently headed the Committee of Houses that governed the planet.

Lord Lysander Vanscot pleaded with Mycann to be permitted to train Cyrus in the ways of the Force; of the Dark Side. His father firmly forbid it, resulting in both Lysander and Cyrus to generally side against him. The rift in the family caused some definite issues later down the line.

Teenage Years

As he grew older, Cyrus was a quick-witted, bright young man, much like his uncle, to the great dismay of his father. His friends were few and far between, but he had a few solid friends who never seemed to fade away. He regularly attended late-night social outings with said friends, causing about as much mischief as one would expect of a boy of his age. He took the opportunity to hone his forbidden Force powers through their pranks and borderline crimes. Telekinesis became a favorite of his, and he mastered it quickly, able to toss generally heavy objects with the mere motion of his hand.

Experts of chaos they may have been, stealthy the certainly were not. They improved in their later years, but for the greater part of the reign of mischief they orchestrated, they were apprehended frequently. Almost every time, however, Cyrus was able to get them off. The young man had a way with words, and he knew how to find loopholes in the legal system. Caught, perhaps, but punishment never seem to come.

Exile From Kaal

When Cyrus reached the age of seventeen, he was at the peak of his social status on his home planet. His friendships were firm, his disciplinary record was practically spotless, and his Force powers had honed nicely, albeit nowhere near professionally, in secret from his father. Everything seemed to be in order. Chances are, he would be taking the position of Baron in less than a month.

Of course, when all seems well, that is when disaster strikes. It had been a late night that night. Nothing unusual for Cyrus. He had his fun, and perhaps a little more than he bargained for. No, definitely more than he bargained for. But that, of all the days, of all the weeks, of all the months, was the day his father returned home early. That was the day everything he had built up crumbled around him.

His father came home to find him in bed with a boy from a rival house.

It wasn't the fact he was in bed with someone. It wasn't even the fact it had been someone from a rival house. It had been the fact he was in bed with another boy. The terrible, harsh words his father spoke that fateful night will echo in his ears forever.

Something inside him snapped, or more appropriately, broke when his father's punishment came crashing down upon him. He was banished from Kaal, and his inheritance of the title of Baron was stripped from him. It was in this moment, this rage-fueled, heated moment that he declared that his father, not he, was the disgrace to the family name. Then and there, on the steps to Vanscot Manor, he declared his father a pretender to the title, and that he was the true Baron of House Vanscot. Reactions were mixed as guards, previously sworn to protect him, dragged him away to the spaceport.

He needed somewhere to go. Someone to turn to. And he knew just the person...

Informal Apprenticeship To Lord Lysander

After hitching several rides to wrong planets, Cyrus eventually found where he needed to be. Dromund Kaas, the capital of the Sith Empire. And more importantly, the residence of his uncle, the only family he had, as far as he was concerned. It took him several days, and multiple fights to find his uncle's whereabouts. He turned up on Lysander's door beaten, bruised, bloody, and about to collapse. He spent the next few days in bed as his uncle catered to him.

Officially, he couldn't become a Sith Apprentice. He would've had to have gone through the academy on Korriban, something he was vehemently opposed to. So instead, he was trained in secret, under his uncle's watchful eye. It was this short year that he spent on Dromund Kaas that his Force abilities truly flourished. He learned better control of his telekinesis, and Force Lightning. He was provided a training saber, apparently Lysander's from his time as an acolyte, which he holds onto to this day.

As with everything good in Cyrus' life, this couldn't last. He arrived home from an errand one day to find his uncle had been killed. Yet another image to haunt his nightmares. He spent the next few months tracking down whatever lead he could, beating the information out of whoever he needed. His quest for vengeance came to an end when he found his target at long last. A rival Sith Lord, who'd had his uncle murdered in a power struggle.

Cyrus still isn't sure of how to feel as to what happened next. He felt as if he hadn't even done it; as if some other ethereal form had taken the wheel for those brief few minutes. He brutally murdered the rival Sith. He tore him limb from limb. And he was caught. Walked in on by the Lord's apprentice, his cover was blown, and he barely fled the planet.

Discovery Of The Imperium

With any chance of a future in the Sith Empire dashed, Cyrus carefully considered his options. He couldn't return to Kaal; not yet. He wasn't ready to face his father. The thought of becoming Jedi briefly crossed his mind. The joke of an idea at least distracted him from his anguish for a few moments. He couldn't become a Jedi for obvious reasons. Besides, he thought of them as self-righteous pricks. He wanted nothing to do with them.

And then, he recalled a conversation he had overheard. A different Sith organization, one that definitely sounded promising. He'd never heard of the planet they were based on, and it took him several weeks to hitch-hike to the right system, let alone the right planet. He spent another week lurking around the capital, examining what he could, before he sought out someone to fully induct him. This was where he needed to be. The rest, as they say, is history...

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