Korriban

[Qaela]

Bastion of Pelko

Sith Academy

 

There was a lot to do administratively, even among a Sith academy. Qaela spent some time just absorbing how things were being done before deciding how they were to be done in the future under her rule. It was an odd sensation for her as she hadn't really been in command of anything more than a few slaves. It was most fascinating to speak words and have them done. If she was honest, she would prefer that her will be done unquestioningly, but that would be a simple dream and fantasy not grounded in the reality of working among the Sith. Even the Dark Lord's decisions were questioned, even if they were followed.

 

Among the Sith, as it was in her Nightsister Clans, the leaders were followed, but were always watched for signs of weakness. She would display none and would have to quickly and brutally stamp out any signs of it should it arise. If she were to crush rebellion at the start, perhaps it would discourage any future resistance. On these grounds, she answered only to the Dark Lord, any who didn't like that would need to be dealt with. This was her first true dominion, and she meant to rule it both to the benefit of herself and of the Sith Order as a whole.

 

The first thing she did was work to assure the non-Force using underlings who took care of the mundane paperwork, supplies, food, and maintenance that they would not be thrown aside or abused as was often the case. In her opinion, if she build support among them, they would support her. Students and Lords alike often ignored the servants, but those servants heard and saw things. If she could earn their trust, they would serve as her eyes and ears keeping her appraised of what her own senses couldn't. Not only that, but if they supported her, they would work more efficiently. Fear had its place, but often, those who served out of true loyalty served far better and with more energy.

 

Next, she began reviewing the other Masters within the Bastion. These more experienced Masters were not quick to offer confrontation, but were wise enough to wait and see how she performed instead of being brash and causing problems. No, she focused more on the Lords for resistance as they were often foolhardy and ambitious enough to try to challenge a new Master in hopes of becoming one themselves. She also needed to start forming allies of her own to combat the eventual opposition. She was not disillusioned: the Sith would not readily accept any authority, especially not one such as her who had spent most of her time outside of the order. Even more amusing to her was the fact that she had never formally committed herself to the Sith Order nor adopted a Sith "Darth" name. Clearly, Lord Exodus did not care for such things, but the symbolism might be important to some so she began to consider how to address it.

 

She made it a point to address and interview each of the Masters and Lords here to see where things might start to fall.

 

A grizzled and worn Sith Trooper assigned to the defense of this temple but also under the command if its Headmistress approached Kitaara Shiri and, after a bow, said, "Lady Angelia, Headmistress Darksong wishes to speak to you in her office." Not willing to insult the Sith Lady by insinuating that she didn't know where the office was, he bowed once more and retreated from the Twi'lek's presence.

[Commander Valinor]

Power was illuminating to those that sought it and while in meditation in the depths of Pelko, Valinor, commander and admiral of the Felix legions, awoke. The lust for power that emanated through the rock to penetrate his senses was enough to stir his interest. He sprang from the ground and strode towards its source, his red cloak billowing behind him like a spray of blood behind a blade. He stopped only for a moment at a weapons display before making his way to the cliff where young Camik Rhonik, the tawny beast from Cathar was training.

 

The stony wall of the cliffs behind the young cathar opened with a grind of stone on stone and Valinor strode through, holding an unlit sabre, and the only thing to be seen beneath a mask of black iron were two red glowing eyes. The eyes considered him and a smile stretched beneath the dark mask.

 

Acolytes report

 

The voice crashed into the Cathar’s mind through the force with military cadence which was echoed in the minds of the others on the cliffside.

 

You have shown potential so you will advance to the next step. Follow me.

 

The dark figure of the Sith admiral turned and walked into the dark tunnel from which he came. Which when entered contained a peculiar classroom, with oddly placed chunks of stone scattered about.

 

Take a seat, and tell me of yourselves, what drives you, what you wish and desire.

[Camik Rhonik]

Camik was starting to revel in his new found realization of the force. He had been told it was there but that was different from actually experiencing it for himself. He was itching to make use of this power, something expected was on the cusp of the lesson.

 

Just as he expected Bev to give further instructions he felt the presents of someone behind him, telling him to follow. It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. He quickly composed himself. He knew this place was not going to be nice to him. It was about learning and gaining power not to coddle and make him feel good. But even still the anger seethed in him at not being able to continue reaching out to the force.

 

By the time he got to the classroom his anger had dissipated. There would be time later for such training. He had his eyes opened to a new world and now that he knew how to access it, he could start to experiment, at night if needed.

 

As he took a seat before this mysterious figure he began to speak. ”There is not much to tell. I like most of my people was raised in slavery, I was lucky enough to escape it though ” He did not go into details on how he managed to escape it, unsure how killing his former master would be taken here. ”What drives me and what I wish are very much the same. I strive for the power for freedom. To ensure that I am never again placed in a position like I was as a slave. To crush those that would think to do such a thing to my family, or perhaps just make those slavers slaves themselves.” The last part was simply a dream he had, though he had never spoken about it before to others. Was the feeling of the force, that power rushing through him giving him hope that his once unspoken dreams might have a chance of becoming reality?

[Commander Valinor]

The crimson eyes of the Admiral slid from one student to the next until they settled on the Cathar.

 

Power is not freedom

 

His hand lifted slightly, and the room went dark, eliciting a yelp from one of the students. The orange blade of the admiral jumped forward and the student was left without an ear. Then the orange glow too disappeared with a snap hiss, leaving only total darkness. Even the eyes of the Admiral were gone.

 

Show me then your power that you so lust for

 

A wind picked up in the darkness, picking small stones and slivers of debris and tossing them with force around the room, the wind was powerful enough, and the force of the projectiles such that if a student was hit they would likely be injured.

 

At the top of this chamber there is a cave, in it you will find crystals, there are four of them. Work together or as single entities to get to the top without dying.

 

The large stones that were scattered about the room were the only thing to withstand the wind.

 

Though first you may wish to reach out with your senses and tell me what you see. Only then can you even attempt to make it. Use the stones as cover.

 

((Do not try to do this in one go, first try to get to cover in darkness, stretching out with your feelings to find the rock, then tell me what the rock feels like, what its history is.))

[Sith X]

Darkness...

 

It was the very existence in which life was created and in which life would end. And as the unaware students succumbed to it within this very room, they held little knowledge; if any, of the truth that laid within it. Unnatural was the darkness that would soon befall them, and it was capable of consuming any light that dare to spark within it's presence, at least without it's permission.

 

Just as was the wind and stone cycloning within the room, for as quickly as it started, so did it die down and end. "Blast it. There's got be a light switch around her somewhere... Ah, here it is... nope, someone's nose." An unfamiliar voice spoke from within the room, one even the instructor wouldn't recognise. After a few moments of rustling, light quickly returned to the room, a cloaked figure standing near the entrance undoubtedly having found what he had been looking for. "Finally."

 

The cloaked figure turned to the class at first, then to the instructor whom he repeatedly bowed apologetically to quite a bit, flagon in hand and seemingly near drunk, was none other than Darth Oni. His face hidden behind a demonic mask of darkened metal to match his darkened armor and attire with near voided eyes, turned back toward the class.

 

"Forgive my intrusion, Admiral Valinor was it?" He spoke in a questioned voice. "I recently returned to Korriban and decided it was time I take on a new Apprentice. As I understand it, you've recently been tasked with training a few of the Acolytes, so I figured this would be a good a place as any to start."

 

Without awaiting the Admiral's reaponse, Oni gazed about the room. There were a few good prospects here, a couple of Humans, a Zybrak, twin Massassi by the looks of it, and a Cathar. It was the Cathar(Camik) that caught Oni's attention the most. "You there, Lion King, follow me."

 

Without another word, Oni made his exit, nearly stumbling on his way out, and headed outside the temple. Whether or not the Cathar decided to follow was completely up to him, as Oni would not push someone into an unwanted Apprenticeship. However, having heard some of the conversation before he made his entrance, he could teach him many things. But only if the young Cathar wished it so.

 

Stopping just outside the temple, Oni perched himself upon a stone railing near the foot of the statues that overlooked the Valley of the Sith. Yes, this place was as good as any to begin. Taking a sip from his flagon, he waited to see if the Cathar had followed.

[Camik Rhonik]

Camik wondered where the wind was coming from but he did what he was told and attempted to show the power he lusted after. He reached into that torrent of power and attempted to push the wind away. He wasn’t sure if he was successful but he wasn’t hit with any debris, though he wasn’t sure if that was from him or from sheer luck. Either way he wasn’t going to just stand there he dove for cover.

 

As he done for cover he was surprised to find that there was nothing there to cover behind. He knew that he had seen large stones that he could use and he thought there was one where he done but there wasn't. He tried to remember where it was but the adrenaline was pushing though his body far to much to allow him to think about what he had seen when there had been light.

 

What he could think about was the torrent of power. Was there something he could do with that? He had reached into it when the storm had started but he had tried to use it as a brute force tool. Was there something else that could be done?

 

He felt into it mentally scrambled to find anything that could help him. As he touched the power he felt that he knew were everything was. He could almost feel were the stones were. Scrambling towards one he put his back to it allowing him to catch his breath. With his back to the large stone and touching the Force he found that he knew this stone. It had started it's life as part of a statue. Before that it was something else so it felt this was the beginning. It was broken off during a storm and brought into this room. During it's time here it had slowly been broken apart by apprentices. It was now just a hard target for brute force training. Camik didn't pause to wonder why he knew all of this or what else he could do, but instead plotted his path out of the room to get to the crystals he had been ordered to get.

 

Just as he was about to move the lights came back on and the wind stopped.Camik blinked by the sudden bright light his eyes were subjected to. As his eyes slowly got used to the light he heard a new voice. Someone was looking to take a new appreciate. He didn't think to get his hopes up so he looked around the room to see how accurate his route was. Much to his surprised it would have gotten him out.

 

Hearing himself being called Lion King though him out of his planning. Lion King?[/] Well he was the only one that could come close to the description of a lion but he didn't know where the king part came from. Hearing the rest of it he didn't even pause to think about it. An apprenticeship was something the acolytes all talked and dreamed about. He was not going to let an opportunity like this pace him by. After all someone like spoiled idiot or whatever his name was might get it instead.

 

Leaving the temple without a second look back he stood just behind his new master waiting patiently. One thing he had learned here was the Masters did thing on their own time.

[Sith X]

Oni turned his gaze upward at the Cathar, his face still hidden behind that mask. "I am Darth Oni, former apprentice to the Chaos God Nurgle and brother of Sith Master Haphestus. Who might you be Cathar?" His voice was stern, yet it echoed only of mere formalities. He paused for a moment, allowing the young Cathar a chance to speak.

 

Now that we have the formalities out of the way..., he spoke this time with a more relaxed tone, removing the blackened mask to reveal the blonde hair and brown eyes that momentarily flickered onyx black as he laid back and stared toward the clouded sky. "Tell me. What is that your truly wish for once you gain this power? What will you do once you hone it and bend it to your will?

 

Oni once again remained silent, allowing Carmik a chance to answer, his gaze of the sky above never faltering as he spoke and listened. I'm not like most Sith myself. In truth, some would consider my views more akin to those of Grey Jedi, like Aryian Darkfire, and to be honest, I wouldn't disagree. But my loyalty is unquestionable. I am a Sith to my very core."

 

Oni chuckled, raising up from the stone on which he had laid, his gaze looking back at the Cathar. "While it is true, that by their very nature, most Sith are selfish and self centered, some are not. We all come to find ourselves in the darkness rather than in the light, not because we seek death and destruction, but because we want to truly know ourselves. Finding one's self in an already lit room is easy, but only reveals the surface. Yet finding one's self in a darkened room..." Oni took a second for dramatization, winking at the Cathar and making a subtle clicking noise. Now that's where one finds one's own depth and soul.

 

Hoping down from his perch, Oni stood eye to eye with the Cathar. "My story is a simple one." He spoke, walking down the rest of the steps until he reached the Valley's floor, his gaze shifting off into the distance toward the Tombs. "I grew up alone and without a family, forced into servitude to provide myself a life. And what a Hunter I was! Yet, without purpose or cause, my life empty, I held nothing to show for it. And it wasn't until I left behind my life as a Hunter and Enforcer of the Hutts, coming across the Chaos God Nurgle, that I found what I searched for..." Raising his arms high in emphasis, abstractly grasping the whole Valley of the Sith Lords within his embrace, Oni finished. "A family, brothers and sisters, here within the Sith, and the freedom to be whom I wished to be."

 

Turning to his student once more, Oni asked but once last question. "So I ask again, what is your wish once granted such power? Search yourself. You will find it."

[Camik Rhonik]

Camik stood before the Darth. Mostly listening but answering when it was appropriate. ”I am Camik Rhonik, though I do not have anything special to add to that name. I am a former slave turned smuggler.” He briefly wondered who this chaos god was. He had always been told that Force users worshiped the Force. Were their other gods out there?

 

 

 

”Spending my life as a slave, I have found that I like my freedom. With this power I intend to ensure that no one ever takes it away from me again.” He paused for a second in his response. ”And if the salvers that have my family come to a unusual end, so much the better” There was not glee or really any emotion in his voice as he said this last part, almost like killing the slavers was a bit of an afterthought.

 

Camik listened to Oni speak, questions started to pile in his mind but he was not stupid enough to interrupt, time for questions would arise latter.

 

Faced with the same question again he pondered it a bit more. Perhaps he not experienced enough of life without the bonds of slavery around his throat because at this point in his life that was his goal. ”Master. Right now my goal is quite simple. There are many powerful people out there. Many that take what they want and ignore the consequences. People being one of those things. As it stands much of my race is sunomis with slavery. Someone could see me on the street and claim to be a runaway slave, which technically I am. As of this time, I wish to secure my future. When that has stabilized and i have experienced a bit more of life without the choke chain around my life I am sure my goals will grow with me. ” He once again paused his speaking, thinking back to the questions that he had just developed. ”Master, what is a Grey Jedi and how is it different from a Sith or Jedi?”

[Kitaara Shiri]

Headmistress. That explained the cascade of ichorous venom she felt oozing from the commanding presence in the center of the academy. It was like an inverse beacon: a central gravitational pull of energy, not emitting light but absorbing it. Lifting a hand to halt the Cathar at her side as the Sith Trooper departed, she hissed a delighted exhale through her teeth. Narrowed eyes focused on something invisible in the distance, and her grin was that of a smug nexu. Spontaneously, she took the Cathar's furred hand in hers and pressed a small metal object into it. "I will return for you. In the meantime, this should allow you access to all that you have need of while you remain here."

 

Upon inspection, Ailbasí would find a traditional Sith medallion, emblazoned with the brilliant dark star of the Sith Empire and inscribed with the Sith Code, a coveted trophy won by those endeavoring to seek acceptance into the new order. Catlike footsteps carried the Twi'lek into the heart of the Academy. Though the building was itself a new construct, and mazelike in the construction of its hallways, she was swept along by the tide of darkness, following the summons like she would follow the trail of gutkurrs to find water in the Lothian jungles. The higher she climbed within the desert pyramid, the warmer the air became. Astride the nearby valley of tombs, it seemed to Angelia that the academy itself curled its mighty fist in retaliation against the Korriban sun. A complement of troops stood at the door to the chamber that rested at the top, the capstone of the construct, Lady Angelia's destination, and she gave them cool nods as they escorted her within.

 

With her feet planted shoulder-width apart, her hands clasped behind her back, and her lekku tossed over her shoulders, Kitaara studied she who must be the Lady Darksong. Her features were startlingly young--she had expected the Headmistress of the Sith Academy to be a woman of much more distinguished age and stature--but an unmistakable aura of grit and steel indicated that she carried the wisdom of experience. Other than that, and being somewhat appealing by human standards, there was nothing particularly remarkable about her. Which, Kitaara acknowledged with the hint of a smirk, probably meant that she was not to be trifled with.

 

"You sent for me, I believe," she announced quietly. "I am Kitaara Shiri of Lemnos Industries, but known to few as the Lady Angelia."

[Qaela]

Bastion of Pelko

Sith Academy

 

There was always a slight tension when meeting new Sith. It was not unlike the tension between Nightsisters, something Qaela had grown used to. Among those who embraced the Darkness, there was always that tension. It was a good thing, in her opinion, because it kept both parties sharp. In nature, all creatures had to be wary, even the most mighty, lest an ambush or even mere accident cause their downfall. Since coming here, tension was all she had known and she came to savor it. All of her life, she survived by allying with others or staying in the shadows, but now she was in the open and, for practical intents and purposes, alone to stand or fall on her own.

 

"I did indeed send for you," she said calmly as she sat behind the polished onyx desk that was her own. Cursed with the black arts, it was cold to the touch, but cold in a way those who followed the Darkness found comforting. "It is my duty to know those who are here, and so I shall. You were taught by and made a Lady by Haphaestus, were you not?" It wasn't a question, for even if it was not universal knowledge, the Dark Lord knew much and had intelligence that she had some small access to. "He was the first Sith to accept and instruct me when I arrived on Coruscant. Though not all among the Sith view him favorably, he never did me wrong."

 

She stood up and faced the durasteel window behind her desk, looking out over the Bastion grounds and deliberately exposing her back to the Twi'lek. "Your master possessed wisdom and tolerance that I wish more Sith shared. He understood the value of having one trained through different methods among the Sith. He understood the value of the tribal unit, of serving the greater Sith over the foolish rivalries that so often divide us. He understood that differences often build strength and did not take part in pointless indulgences of wasteful slaughter or self destruction.

 

"Tell me, Lady Angelia: does he still believe that and did he pass that opinion on to you?"

[Sith X]

Oni chuckled briefly, slapping his knee in jest. "Then Camik Rhonik, you shall add Apprentice of Darth Oni to your title... for now at least." He finished with a simple shrug of his shoulders, his gaze once again turning toward the horizon and taking a chug from the large flagon he held within his hand, some of the amber ale drizzling down his chin as he did so. "Slavery... it is a saddening but necessary evil. My heart goes out to you young one, but I am glad to see you have clawed your way free."

 

Oni pauses briefly to gauge his Apprentice's response to the words he had just spoke, then answers the young Cathar's question. "To be honest, it truly depends on your perspective. Aryian Darkfire, the Grey Jedi, although a Jedi in all sense of the word, furthered his knowledge by trying to understand both aspects of the Force, not just the light. I, myself, have met and briefly discussed philosophy with Darkfire for a short time. But in all truth, grey Jedi and grey Sith are mere concepts, chosen by those who decide to walk the fine line between the two philosophies without falling into their opposing. Hence why I would not disagree with those who labeled me a grey Sith of the sorts. The Force has no conception of what is light and what is dark, only the views of those who wield it, whether selflessly or selfishly. Do you understand Camik?"

 

Oni lets his student reflect on his words before continuing. "There once was a Order that believed the Force to be a deity like being known as the planet Tython, where they believed the Force was born from. They also believed it's two moon, Ashla and Bogan, were physical manifestations of the two sides we know as the lightside and the darkside as well as Bendu or Balance. And if one were to fall outside of their balancing belief such as falling to far to the darkside, they would be exiled to the moon Ashla which they felt felt represent the lightside of the force to reflect upon it and Bogan for those who fell too far to the light. This Order were called the Je'daii and were the basis upon which the Jedi Order we know today, and eventually, the Dark Jedi who later took up our current Sith Mantle."

 

"However, I'm sure the Academy has numerous amounts of holocrons upon this subject, so I may not be telling you anything new." Oni chuckled. "But my purpose was to explain what it means to be Grey Sith or Grey Jedi. The Je'daii were believed to be not only true Masters of the Force, but chosen by it. Yet, their Order fell to corruption of both light and dark, loosing balance forever. But were they right? That depends on your perspective. My perspective believes me to be Sith, a practioner of the darkside despite my agreeing with some of the Jedi's philosophy while disagreeing with some of the Sith's, and visa versa, because within the Sith Order, I am free to use my ability in the Force however I wish, where as a Jedi, I would not."

 

"Do you know the Sith Code?" Oni questioned. "Do you know the Jedi Code as well? Do you agree or disagree with anything from either?"

[Camik Rhonik]

Apprentice to Darth Oni Camik thought. He liked the sound of it. It was a step up from the others he had been training with. It was the next step in his training. No longer was he just a nameless face in the academy, being tossed around from class to class. Now he was being personally trained by a Darth.

 

For someone that had lived most of his life as mere property. Something that could be beaten or killed at a whim, the distinction was important. Granted he potentially could have the same thing happen to him under this new master but at least now he was learning for himself. He was improving himself, he would soon be on his own to carve his mark on the galaxy.

 

He listened intently to the distinction between the grey and the those of the more hard lined order. He wasn’t sure where he fell now but that would likely change with his apprenticeship.

 

”The academy may have plenty of holocrons on the subject but it was not one that my education had touched on, Master” he answered after hearing the story. It was interesting and something he would have to take the time to learn about on his own time.

 

”I have learned the Sith code yes, but my training under the Jedi was cut short, so short that we did not even get started enough to learn the Jedi Code. Since coming to Korriban no one has wanted to talk about the Jedi, they have seemed to treat it like a taboo”

[Sith X]

Quite understandable, Oni spoke his tone relaxed. Nor will you hear a much of the Sith Philosophy within the Jedi Temples aside from our 'sinful and evil' ways. Oni's vision gazed back toward the horizon, a being becoming slightly visible within the sandstorm raging in the distance and a smile came across his face as he turned back toward Camrik. But as I stated before, the Force is based on one's perspective, not ideology.

 

The Jedi and Sith Codes go as followed:

 

• The Jedi Code
  'There is no emotion, there is peace.'
  'There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.'
  'There is no passion, there is Serenity.'
  'There is no chaos, there is Harmony.'
  'There is no death, there is the Force.'
   
  The Sith Code
  'Peace is a lie, there is only Passion.'
  'Through Passion, I gain Strength.'
  'Through Strength, I gain Power.'
  'Through Power, I gain Victory.'
  'Through Victory, my chains are broken.'
  'The Force shall set me free.'

 

Oni chuckled, taking another swig from his flagon, his demeanor hinting that he was slightly drunk. But it did not matter much. This was Darth Oni, and he was whom he was.

 

"These are just basic principles that each Order has given to guide their idealolgy forward. However, with each student I train, I ask that they find their own code to follow and live by it, no matter what it entails. For instance, the code I live by entails a variation of both the Jedi and Sith Orders, as it hints to my individual beliefs. My code is simply:

 

• 'Through emotions, I gain Power.'
  'Through Knowledge, I gain Strength.'
  'Through Harmony, I gain Peace.'
  Through Will, I am free.'
  I am the Force, and the Force is me.'

 

And I suspect that you will find a code to follow of your own."

 

Just as Oni finished his explainanation, the being from before topped the hill, his appearance almost a mirrored version of Oni himself, two sabers clipped to his hip. Oni turned to Camrik, reaching toward the black staff that laid sheathed upon his back. Unclipping it and tossing it to his Apprentice, Oni smiled.

 

"It's time for your first test, young one. This is my android, forged and created for me by my Master, Nurgle. He is an exact copy of me, down to mimicking my own signature in the Force. Yet, he is his own. I wish you to duel with him, and show me what you possess. Let me see your skill before we take training any further, and give it your all. Do not fear him. Attack with all your might."

 

With that said, Oni kicked back and awaited his Apprentice's first move.

[Camik Rhonik]

Camik listened to the codes that were presented to him. He mulled them around trying to find which one fit him best. These words would help shape his life they should fit him like a finely crafted suit. He found it quite strange that none of them did though.

 

Pushing the concern aside. He would have time to figure that out for himself, just like his master said.

 

As the black staff flew through the air his hand reached out deftly caught it. He spun it around for a second to gauge its weight and balance. The weight and balance were similar to the weapon strapped across his shoulders, at least when it was extended.

 

Taking a stance that seemed natural. He had yet to receive any training with weapons so he was going on instincts. Knowing that he was surely outclassed he did not hesitate. Charging at the droid the feriosity that had been lost to much of his people, beaten out of them. He swung at the droid. It was not quite wild but the attacks did not have the precision that the weapon required.

 

He would attempt to use it to block and dodge any attack that came at him but at the moment he was focused on his office. He focused on swings hard enough and fast enough that if one did get through the droids defenses, it would do the most damage. In the back of his mind he thought this was the best chance he had.

[Sith X]

Oni watched the Cathar's charge curiously as the Oni-bot drew forth twin lightsabers, each decorated at the hilt with skulls fashioned in a rapier style grasp, a slight curve upon the handle beneath, and ignited the crimson beams. The Darkmetal Staff that Oni had tossed to his apprentice would be sufficient enough to repel the beams, but not the droids ability to observe and process infinite possibilities of each opponent he faced nor his reaction time. With each stroke, he would grow faster and more deadly.

 

In a manner of speaking, of course.

 

For training purposes, the emitter had been tuned down by the droid at Oni's request, the only outcome being minor burns if struck. But the Cathar held no means of knowing this, and that was Oni's idea. It was meant to push his apprentice into using not only his instincts and will to survive, but to push himself even further than he had ever dreamed. Seemingly one speed behind the Cathar, the Oni-bot struck forth again.

 

Sparks flew as the sabers met the Darkmetal, molten plasma erupting from the contact as the blade slid down the Darkmetal Staff's length in a shower of sparks that burst forth like fireworks, the droid's body twisting and turning in his relentless attacks. Oni, still sitting back and watching, clapped, cheering his pupil on. Excellent work, Camik. No matter what weapon you wield, remember that it's only an extension of yourself, and that you must use it as so.

 

But now came the harder part, as for the moment before hand, the droid had only been using a fraction of his speed and strength, stepping up his attacks little by little as he tested his Master's Apprentice and his abilities. Oni was a practioner of Jar'Kai, and had developed his own addition of style to it. And the Oni-bot was no exception, having been designed to mimic Oni in every way.

 

Placing one foot forward, the droid stepped into what would appear as Makashi, the singular blade focusing forward with pinpoint and forward to side slashes, the other blade deactivated and pressed up against the droids lower back. It was meant as a means of throwing off the opponent, confuse and dishearten them. And in a moment of inevitable wonderment, ignite and strike forward from the side and deliver a devastating defeat.

 

Oni sat in silence, taking another gulp from his flagon, wondering if Camrik could defend.

[Camik Rhonik]

Camik was smiling. It felt good to releasing this pent up energy. To long had he spent at the academy in meditation or contemplation with only bursts of exercise. This fight was both meditation as well as exercise. The more he swung the staff the better it felt in his hands. He did not realize it but the longer the fight progressed the faster he was becoming, gradually increasing his speed to match the droids.

 

As the droid changed stance presting only a single saber, Camik changed stances as well. He stepped back a few steps and ended with his right leg behind, presenting a smaller target just like the droid. His staff was raised with his right hand just over his head and his left out in front. He did not trust the droid turning off the second saber. It was either a feint or the droid was thinking it so clearly overmatched Camik that it did not need it. With this much distance between them there was no way for the droid to hit him, if it lunged towards him he could simply step back, but he had been given a staff as his weapon. A staff was almost a spear and while this one did not have a sharp tip, he could still constentrate the power into a single point.

 

Stepping forward he would reach out with the staff/spear and lunge towards the droid. Closing the distance with the weapon but not his body, immediately after striking pull the weapon back to defend against the attack he was sure that would come. If the droid wanted to toy with him he would use the distance to protect him until he was sure what the droid’s game was.

[Kitaara Shiri]

Politics. Pure and simple, that was what the Lady Qaela had called her here for. The questions excited her; the careful exposition of the information the Headmistress held revealed much about her connectedness within the Sith. None but the Master Sheog or the Dark Lord himself, save those who had come across her path here on Korriban, knew anything of her identity as the Lady Angelia. This Qaela's knowledge inferred her connection to one or the other, and if she had to guess, from the words that fell from the human's lips like silk, all her bets would be on the Dark Lord Exodus.

 

"I am subject to none," she began carefully. Deference filled her posture, but on this one point she would be firm. "I serve the Lord Exodus, the Sith Empire, for our mutual strength and benefit. My teacher, Haphaestus, has never claimed masterhood over me. He is, as you say, not accepted universally by those among the Sith. This is pleasing to him, and to me as well. To pursue universal approval is to be weak, without a spine. To stay silent, and appear to have universal approval, however: this can be a great asset."

 

She maintained a stately countenance, even as the one to whom she was speaking turned her attention outwards. Nothing happening in this room would be done carelessly, but the Lady Angelia was not so easily goaded. "My teacher trained me to be the perfect specimen of a Sith. Well-educated and well-conditioned, forced to work for access to all that I have acquired and now lacking in nothing, hidden in plain sight and able to draw all attention to myself at a whim. These things he did for me so that I may continue such a legacy, of brotherhood--" she stopped, and cocked her head to one side with a Cheshire grin "--and sisterhood among such as you and I, for our mutual benefit and the strengthening of our Empire. We gain nothing by petty rivalries or gratuitous behaviors, and even a pawn may clinch the win of a game of Dejarik, no?"

 

Tossing her lekku over her shoulder, Angelia stood poised, the perfect image of a predatory feline at her leisure. Truthfully, it was no small source of pride to reflect on the upbringing that Haphaestus had given her. They were a deadly team when working together, as evidenced by the untimely demise of the Wookiee Grandmaster at her hand. The depravity of the Lothja Mines seemed like but a distant memory, even if the resilient survivalist grit of the child who had bought and paid for her escape in blood still remained. She had been molded by his hand, shaped into a weapon and a tool that had the power to sway the galaxy. Perhaps more importantly, she had acquired the skill to shape such weapons herself.

 

After all, why else had the Academy's Headmistress sent for her?

[Sith X]

Oni smiled as he watched Camrik's stance change to meet his opponent's own. Truly, the warrior within him granted a natural instincts about combat, and Oni could see it shining vibrantly within the young Cathar. And his use of the staff, the way it would extend yet allow the wielder to remain his distance, utter flawlessly. But the training was far from over. And as Camrik flushed himself to meet the Oni-bot's attacks, training would get more interesting.

 

While it was true that the Oni-bot was a mere imitation of Darth Oni, and honestly a cheap one, it was not without It's surprises, occasionally grasping the Darkmetal pole with the hand holding the deactivated saber and yanking the young Cathar in close in an attempt to close the distance and yield a strike. But also the droid's reaction times were accelerating beyond human measurements, becoming a near blurred figure upon the battlefield as his speed and strength began to show, dust raising from upon the ground with it's movements and refusing to fall as his attacks grew quicker and stronger.

 

This was meant to apply pressure and intimidation upon the Cathar, as Oni's next lesson was about to begin.

 

"You have done well so far, my young Apprentice." Oni spoke, his words slurred yet formidable. "Yet, this is not the allow weapon you possess, and despite the droids speed and strength, this weapon I speak of, he will never attain. Focus on your emotions, let them grasp your very soul, and feel the world around you. Find the Force within you, and unleash it's potiential within you upon the droid. Attempt to destroy it with every fiber of your being, and focus that want upon the droid."

 

Placing aside the flagon, Oni hopped down and began to truly gauge his opponent. He held no knowledge what the Cathar had been taught within the Academy, nor did it matter. Oni wanted to see first hand his Apprentice's potiential, his eyes flickering from Amber to Onyx in his excitement. With a near demonic grin he spoke. "Show me your power."

[Qaela]

Bastion of Pelko

Sith Academy

 

While still facing the durasteel window, Qaela smiled slightly. It was slightly refreshing to hear a Sith speak as such, but there was an innocence about her that she herself once lived in. To claim no master was indeed strength, but to presume she lacked nothing bordered on danger. It was very much the spitting image of her when she was younger and less tested by the Galaxy, and she liked it.

 

"Males often think they are the stronger and thus worthy of being called 'master,' yet they more often fall short," she said as she turned to face the Twi'lek. "You are correct: to pursue approval is weakness. Rather, pursue respect tempered by fear of your displeasure and you will find your true power. The Sith here are too often focused on approval through petty acts of brutalism and wasteful treachery. I know that for a fact when the group of Sith and Black Sun calling themselves the Scorpions attacked and drove away Haphaestus from the position of Dark Lord. Pointless rivalry, pointless waste.

 

There are many things the Sith do better than any in the Galaxy, and brute strength is one of them. However, brute power isn't the only kind of power. Sometimes, there are more subtle forms of power that can be just as devastating that the Sith do not yet know or use."

 

 

Qaela walked around her desk and to a small cabinet of dark wood. Whispering a quick spell and waving her hand over it to release the lock, she opened it to reveal a collection of potions, totems, and amulets. Carefully selecting a vial with vibrant purple liquid in it, she held it in her hands and began chanting another spell softly. This particular spell was not harsh or grandiose like some were, but was melodic, extruding a soothing and calming aura that flowed through the room. The words flowed as a song, a song Qaela knew well and had sung many times. As the spell began to work its effect, the liquid in the vial began to bubble and fizz as though carbonated and glowed ever so slightly. In but a couple of minutes, the spell was complete and the potion was ready.

 

"If you were unaware, I am a Nightsister of Dathomir, trained in both the ways of my ancestors and of the Sith. One of the things my people were skilled at was alchemy and the use of sorcery and other magicks similar to, but separate from what the Sith Krath developed. This particular use of our alchemy is often given to our most promising young girls in very small, diluted amounts as they finish puberty. It helps attune them to the true power of the Darkness, opening their minds to the underworld and the spirit realm as well as enhancing their connections to what the Sith call the Force. As you are a skilled and trained practitioner of the Darkness, you can take a far more concentrated potion."

 

She offered the vial to Angelia, but before releasing it, added, "I caution you, though, nothing in Nature comes without balance and a cost. Consume this and you will be given great strength and power, something very few Sith could even dream of, but you will forever be partially connected to the spirit world. Its hunger for new spirits to join them in the spirit world will forever gnaw at you and haunt your footsteps. The strong can resist its call, but without extreme diligence, you will feel the need to kill growing great within you. I offer this to you, for strength and power are of great use to any woman who wishes to navigate this Galaxy."

[Camik Rhonik]

Camik listened to his masters words while he fought. He had only recently been exposed to the world of the Force. Only recently opened up his feeling into that world and he most certainly had no control over it. But it never entered Camik’s head that his master would hold his hand to teach him. He suspected that much of their lessons would be like this, thrown into deep end and expected to swim.

 

”I did not realize that the Force could be used as such a weapon master. I only recently began to be able to access it and have not had the chance to think about the possibilities. ” he said with the staff held in a defensive posture. He was a novice at this, at best, and would need concentration to be able to perform the task. Fighting a droid that did not want to let up was not going to make it easier.

 

In Camik’s pocket was the collar that Bev had given him. He had not even had a chance to throw it away, and at this moment he was glad he did not. He thought about the collar letting the anger flood him filling him with the emotion. That emotion made it easier to find the torrent of power he had recently tapped into. He thought about the lesson he had just before his master had claimed him, only recently discovering he could sense things with the power. He reached out with those senses and felt the droid. At the moment all other sensations were superfluous, he would learn to deal with the extra sensory information latter. First he needed to crush this droid.

 

With the power flowing through him and the droid firmly secured within his senses, he could feel the metal body of it. He could almost sense what the droid was going to do next. That was something he would have to experience at a later time as well. So many things he needed to work on just from one simple exercise. He jumped back to put some distance between them, spun the staff so it was held with one hand, behind his back and pushed up by his head. From that position he could quickly swing it into position but for now it was not impeding his other hand. With his free hand he reached out to the droid, feeling it despite the distance between them. Feeling the soft parts as well as the armored ones. He revealed in the experience for a moment before he squeezed his hand shut, using the power to create a link between it and the exteter of the droid.

[Sith X]

The Oni-bot simply just stood there as Camik's attack seemed to have done nothing. Oni walked over, signaling the end of the duel, laughing almost hysterically. "Well done." He spoke, clapping his hands before standing next to Camik. Seeing his Master approach, the Oni-bot deactivated the blade and simply stood there. And in truth, had the droid been anything other than what he was, Camik would have likely destroyed him, crushing him like a can. But beneath the armor he wore, his circuits and plating had been coated with a powdered version of the mysterious substance known as Darkmetal, making him almost impervious to lower powered Force attacks.

 

Turning to his Apprentice, Oni grinned and went to speak, the aroma of the Tarisian Ale fresh upon his breath as he spoke. "The Force is your greatest of weapons, both offensively and defensively. It's as much a part of you as your soul, and it flows through everything. From the individual grains of sand we stand upon to planets unknown, it exists in everything. And like the Staff you hold in your hand, it can become an extension of you. While it's true that your emotions can fuel it.." Oni nodding toward Camik's pocket at his mention of this before continuing. "It also takes focus and meditation to truly master it. And that's when it becomes an extension of yourself."

 

With little warning, or giving Camik a chance to react, the Staff burst from the young Cathar's grip and once again found it's self in Oni's palm. "This Staff is forged from an ancient artifact known as Darkmetal. It cannot only resist lightsaber strikes, it can also absorb the Force and even store it. However, if not trained in it's use, it can drain it's wielder of their powers until unconsciousness or even death." Sheathing the Staff across his back, Oni motions to Camik to follow, making his way off into the distance toward the Tombs.

 

In the center of the Valley sat Oni's ship, a small campsite set up, complete with a fire and some type of meat cooking over it. As Camik would be able to tell, Oni was more or less a loner, preferring the path of solitude rather than embracing socialism. A makeshift bedroll sat to one side and another opposite, Oni sat down upon one. "Do you have questions Camik?" He questioned, grabbing a partial chunk of the cooking meat, peeling it's meat off in small bite size pieces. Oni gazed up toward the darkening sky. "Best to ask them now as they'll keep you up most of the night, and we leave at first light."

[Camik Rhonik]

Camik started a the droid dumbfounded. He was sure that would work. He had felt everything, knew in his gut that he was doing it right but the droid was just stood there unphased.

 

As Camik was preparing to attack again with the force, his master walked up signaling the end of the fight. As much as he had enjoyed it he was glad the fight was over. It had left him much to ponder and meditate over.

 

He had listened to the explanation about the staff but that just left more questions. Ones that he was presented with the opportunity to ask when they got back to his ship. ”I do have questions master. The darkmetal staff. Why is it not more common? Everyone has heard about lightsabers and how fearsome a weapon they are but force users spend their lives training, why not invest in something that gave a defense against such a fearsome weapon? Armor made out of it, sounds like it would make a unstoppable warrior. ”

 

He would let his master answer before asking his next question. ”The droid master, One that is invested with your own skills sounds like an wonderful training partner. Is that something I will be able to obtain for myself? I have a ship of my own, on this planet in fact and being able to spar in the middle of hyperspace sounds like a great way to pass the time. ” He understood the need for mediation but right now in his training he thought that sparing would be far more beneficial.

[Sith X]

"Ah. That is a good question my young Apprentice..." Oni spoke after swallowing the meat completely. "In truth, I pondered that very question myself when my Master revealed it to us. But I only know of one place to get the necessary ore, and in order to forge it, one must be like myself, able to feed from the Force its self rather than ones own skill, just as the metal does. Without such power, it only eventually lead the wielder's death, as I said before. The Darkmetal is such a mysterious metal, able to feed off the Force that surrounds it, including my own as well as yours. This is why I kept your spar as short as possible. Eventually you would have grown faint, and if exposed longer, have killed you." Oni chuckled. "You're safe now though. It feeds off of me just as I feed off the energy that surrounds me, though it's hunger is never filled."

 

Oni finished his meal and laid back upon the bedroll, his gaze shifting toward the now starlit sky above them.

 

"Unfortunately, I did not design the Oni-bot, so it secrets are lost even to me." Oni, yawned, stretching his limbs and closing his eyes. "My Master, Nurgle, designed him using his own Nurgle-bots, so the droid likely possesses secrets that even I have never found. But you are correct. He does help with passing the time, and although not a great conversationalist..." The Oni-bot's gaze darts toward Oni, who had already looked up and caught his gaze fall upon him, causing Oni to laugh. "He is a great sparring partner and pushes even me to my boundaries. I think it would be fine if he travels with you aboard your ship during your training. But for now, Camik, get some shut eye. we leave before dawn."

 

And with that, Oni was asleep, without little care in the world, an almost demonic growl erupting from him with each snore. Whether or not Camik would get any sleep would be upon the Cathar's own, whether he blocked out the Sith's snores or simply ignored them. But as the Oni-bot scanned the horizon, night would turn into dawn. And at dawn, Oni and his ship set out for one destination: Onderon.

 

.:OOC: You can either follow me directly to Onderon via the space thread, or we can spar with the Oni-bot while in the space thread while I take care of the stuff I need to on Onderon. Up to you.:.

[Camik Rhonik]

Camik was disappointed to hear that the droid was one of a kind, but that was life. Camik was fanciated with his masters ability with the staff, talking about how he could feed on the force. It was something he was going to have to look into latter when he had a better understanding and grasp of it. For now it took him to long to focus and gather his power.

 

Laying down Camik tuned out the snoring. This was not the first master he had that snored and he had long ago learned how do deal with such things.

 

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day as he was finally leaving Korriban.

 

 

[OOC: I will follow you]

[Keenava Dira]

The stale air lingered at Keenava's ear nubs. She clung to the rough stone walls of the darkened corridor and waited. Her lekku were draped delicately around her neck and her gleaming red eyes, shrouded by the hood of her cloak, scanned the floor.

 

The dust settled beneath every acolyte's step. The smell and sense of exertion, desperation, and fear gripped the air and persisted even in the stone the Twi'lek clung to. As she watched the coming and going, she eyed each person's mannerisms. She watched how they greeted one another if they greeted one another. She watched how they spoke to each other and cataloged each interaction. It was only a select specimen and limited to the etiquette and decorum expected of Sith attendants, but it was a start. Nothing held her attention for too long, though she tried to hold her focus. Instead of letting her mind wander around the corridor, she did what she could to zero in on little details and gather as much information as she could before moving on to the next piece. Time ticked by. Dust gathered on the bridge of her nose and tickled the skin. A small breeze brushed particulates against the skin of her ear nubs. Her eyes began to dry and her lips started to crack.

 

The strength of her eyes began to fade. The energy of her hands as they clung to the pockmarked stone, began to falter. Sweat beaded on her for head and her face began to contort as she tightened her grip and rested her eyes. A small movement drew her attention. But it was nothing. She needed to... wai- what?

 

Keenava turned her head for a second and felt as the tendons hyperextended. She looked toward where the movement was and nothing was there. Kriff...

 

Keenava hopped off the wall and landed silently on the balls of her feet. She rolled the tips of her knuckles up and down the sides of her neck to loosen the tension and made her way back to the lab.

[Darth Nyrys]

The experience had been like lucidly experiencing a nightmare where she could never be fast or clever enough to overcome the monster. Ailbasí’s mind had a general idea of what to try, but her limbs felt mired in a thick ooze when she had tried to make those ideas a reality. A panic response of the brain is to process data more heavily to try and find an appropriate response, but in this case it had only succeeded in making her feel even more insufficient.

 

Her trainer bid her farewell while pressing a medallion into her hand, and while she felt like she had failed, the token throbbed warmly in her grasp and brought the envious stares of others. She didn’t feel better than the others, but the sparring match had brought into sharp focus the direction that she needed to take her life in. She had always been a lover of knowledge and wisdom, inheriting the former from her father and the latter from her mother. While under the oppression of her condition learning and academia had always seemed like her natural course in life, and she had excelled in it, but now through the wonders of the Force she had found a way to restore her physicality.

 

Was restore the right word? She had been a prisoner of the circumstances of her unusual birth her entire life. She hadn’t been sick enough to live in confinement, although there may have been a sense of solace in that life, living vicariously through her father’s books and her mother’s stories. Her mother was always telling stories, and a knowing smile seemed permanently chiseled into her features. Ailbasí always felt like there were other things that her mother had wanted to tell her, secrets that mothers know but are reluctant to pass onto their daughters because it means that they aren’t little girls anymore. But fragile innocence left unchecked groomed fragile daughters who couldn’t cope with the real world. She was afraid of breaking the fantasy, but the truth is that life breaks everyone, constantly and mercilessly, and the only true measure of people is how well they can put back the pieces that matter, and let go of the pieces that don’t.

 

Right now she could use a few secrets to compensate for the death of her innocence.

 

She looked at the coin in her hand, inscribed with the language that she had once thought a secret between father and daughter. It was blindingly apparent now that there had been aspects of his life that he had concealed from her, but she didn’t know if she would have understood the weight of those things when she was younger. His focus around her had always been on being a good father, and perhaps he had meant to tell her the truth himself some day.

 

Nwûl tash.

Dzwol shâsotkun.

Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk.

Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan.

Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha.

Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak.

Wonoksh Qyâsik nun.

 

As a TA at uni one of her favorite professors told her that an exam should be written to test mastery of concepts, not rote memory of details. She hadn’t failed today because of a singular wrong technique or inadequate muscle, but rather an overall lack of physicality. Ailbasí wasn’t obese, but perhaps that had allowed her to comfortably neglect pursuing a better body state. If she had ever felt disappointed with her condition there was always a guy that she could find that would tell her that she was hot, and her doubts would be forgotten through sweaty fumblings in the backseats of speeders or college dorm rooms. It’s hard to be honest with yourself and lying could feel so good for everyone involved.

 

But now the lies had been scraped away with a dull blade and it time to face herself honestly in the mirror. No more excuses, no more self pity hookups, no more drifting by on good enough. She would begin with a training regimen as rigorous as her study programs at uni, and apply the same discipline to staying on track. It was time to stop settling on getting by and start being pfasking amazing.

 

With a new direction found, Ailbasí resolved to commit herself to getting into shape before seeking out the mysterious woman again for the next step of her training.

[Keenava Dira]

Keenava sat alone in the center of a dark room. No footsteps. No clashing of metal. No virulent smells. No whimpering. No suffering. The low light obscured the ceiling and made it impossible to discern any detail. In fact, the low light suffused everything around her, hiding even the door from easy eyes.

 

The morning’s study began to fade away. All that remained was the musty smell of dry Korriban air that pushed through stony cracks and permeated the Praxeum. Even her heartbeat began to drift.

 

All who approached the training room would feel a fundamental dread, persuading them to halt their advance. The Assassin wing was off-limits for now.

____________________

 

• I am not a stranger to the dark...

 

Keenava opened luminescent red eyes to the silence. Their bright light filled the room with a dim fire. And as the words flew through her, she shifted her stance, feeling the cold rough stone on the tips of her kneecaps.

 

• Hide away, they say, ‘cause we don't want your broken parts...

 

Keenava’s fists clenched and, deep in her fists, sounds started to crackle and pop outward.

 

• I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars...

 

The deep scars that ran along her body began to throb dully.

 

• Run away, they say, no one'll love you as you are...

 

Hot streaks ran across her shallow cheeks.

 

• But I won't let them break me down to dust…

 

Slowly Keenava stood to her full height, with both fists parallel to her hips.

 

• I know that there's a place for us, for we are glorious!

 

The beat of her heart surged into her ears and the flame deep inside her grew to spite its fleshy prison.

 

• When the sharpest words wanna cut me down. I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out.

 

The veins in her muscles pulsed to the surface of her skin.

 

• I am brave, I am bruised. I am who I'm meant to be, this is me.

 

Keenava’s eyes burst into flame.

 

• Look out 'cause here I come.
   
  And I'm marching on to the beat I drum
   
  I'm not scared to be seen
   
  I make no apologies, this is me!

 

AGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

 

Her scream exploded outward.

 

It lasted a good minute. Nothing crumbled. Nothing was destroyed. But the sound shot outward across the wastes, past the academy and nearly to the other end of the planet.

 

On the surface, it was piercing. But its physical mark upon the stone was impotent. Layers of darkness flew from her chords in a grand display of cathartic relief. Unwashed bodies, dark enjoyment, betrayal, desperation, submission, suffering, hate, pain, and agony spilled from her and shocked the stone beneath her feet. But nothing else happened. When it finished, Keenava stood in silence, watching the stone settle once more.

 

A slow smile spread across her lips. Cold sweat clung to her face and the lengths of her arms. Her legs wobbled a little in the sudden silence but the vacuum of strength left by her scream gave her plenty of space to find her bearings again.

This is me.

 

Silence reigned, and Keenava vanished.

[Darth Nyrys]

Constructing a program for meeting her physical training goals wasn’t all too dissimilar from putting together an academic study plan. There were more fitness programs than stars in the galaxy, but she was able to trim her options down through process of elimination. Troubling reports of muscle failure if sessions weren’t upkept meant miotism units were a no go. Plans that focused entirely on health through nutrition or medication wouldn’t take her where she wanted. The alchemists and biomancers on Korriban seemed incredibly sketchy, and there was no way to know who was legitimate and who was a scam. There were surgical methods that could be performed by certified medical specialists, but that still wouldn’t give her a familiarity with her own body. Training programs not designed for or compatible with Cathar physiology were obvious exclusions.

 

When she had gotten it down to a handful of options, she tried to close her eyes and let in the Force to guide her. Her finger drifted and hovered for a bit before settling on a spot and she opened her eyes. It was a banner ad for male enhancement. Either she wasn’t quite “there” yet, or the Force was pfasking with her. After hemming and hawing she picked a new plan that also included a nutrition guide for carnivores. At uni it was so common for students to take stims that they actually had kiosks that sold them, tracking consumption by tying purchases to student IDs, and while Ailbasí had never gone overboard with them, they were appetite suppressants. The amount of food that this guide was suggesting though was colossal in deific degrees, and Ailbasí wondered if she would be able to manage even with her appetite back.

 

Research had eaten the day entirely, and Ailbasí could feel sleep calling to her, so she curled up in her rented room’s bed and resolved to start in the morning. She didn’t want to get labeled as weak at the academy right at the start, bad things happened when predators sniffed out weakness. Drifting away quickly, the tiny room was replaced with the smell of brine and a familiar nightmare…

 

****

 

The first days were the most painful. Going from a lazy college student lifestyle to a serious exercise regimen left muscles that Ailbasí didn’t know she had screaming in agony. In a normal situation she would have let her muscles heal naturally over time by having break days, but this was far from normal. For better or worse there were treatments available that let her speed up the healing of torn muscle tissue and maintain a daily heavy workout routine. Early on, this meant mornings of agony as her shredded muscle tissues screamed in protest so wretchedly that she could barely get out of bed.

 

After building a foundation, Ailbasí began to work on supplementing her movements with what traces of the Force that she could muster She was careful not to undercut her own training program goals with the Force as a substitute, but she was gaining a measure of precision, although using the Force could be just as tiring as exercise.

 

When her symptoms would return, she would make use of the local jails to sate her hunger on rapists and pedophiles. She could no longer feed on murderers without feeling hypocritical for any sense of having the moral high ground. Overall though, she was on the path to feeling healthier than ever, her hair and fur becoming fuller and softer as she continued to steal these spiritual transfusions. Even a degree of color was finding its way into her fur. The jailers were fine with the situation as long as coin graced their hands, Sith needing “volunteers” was apparently a fairly common practice.

 

****

 

The person looking back at Ailbasí wasn’t her familiar, comfortable reflection from months ago. Carefully cultivated lines and curves made up a sleeker and more powerful whole. Her fur was now fully pigmented and a deep black tone, although she dyed her hair white like it used to be as a matter of personal preference. The person in the mirror was an unknown, but also powerful, confident, and someone Ailbasí was proud to be able to become. At last she felt prepared to face the dark halls of the Korriban academy and she returned to its perimeter, medallion in hand, ready to start a new chapter in her life.

[Kitaara Shiri]

"To strength and power, then," Angelia said with a purr, as she wrapped her long fingers around the vial. "I accept with gratitude, Sister of the Night."

 

The premise of what the Lady Qaela promised her was fascinating. This was a dark alchemy the likes of which she had no understanding or experience. Her strengths were in stealth and guile, in illusion and deception. Venturing into the spirit realm like the Krath sorcerers of old exceeded her record of experience. Truly, she would also be remiss if she did not consult her teacher on the sincerity of this woman. No fool was she, nor was she a stranger to the exhaustive annals of bloody Sith history, in which every form of betrayal was expected. While this Dathomiri darkwitch spoke sincerely, and they had no prior history which would indicate a motive, she was too practiced in paranoia from leading a meticulous double life to accept such a gift without thorough vetting.

 

"Is there aught that you would have me do for the Empire, my lady, or simply continue with my work?" she asked, slipping the small vial into the pouch at her belt. She planned to spend an extended amount of time at the Academy such that she could carry a full report to Haphaestus as to the complexion of Sith recruits. In the meantime, if she could make herself useful, she would do so.

[Qaela]

Qaela nodded in acknowledge of Angelica's acceptance of her potions. It would indeed do as promised in linking the woman to the spirit realm, and provide some quite interesting experiences. With time, she might even be able to master that realm enough to command the spirits to do her bidding and provide her great wisdom. Still, the potion wasn't eternal, but rather something that would fade in time. To receive more, Angelica would need to come back and obtain it: something Qaela was more than willing to do without expectations....for a time. Power among the Sith came at a cost, but rather than brutality, Qaela preferred rewards and promises of more rewards in exchange for loyalty.

 

Her warnings were true: if continually consumed, it would draw the person's spirit closer to that realm, to the point that they would be consumed by it and cease to truly be living, or even sane. She had spent many nights in the spirit realm when younger and during her long exile in the underbelly of Coruscant. Some of the things she learned to repair her body was from her own ancestors, though she was smart enough not to become overly dependent on it. Let the Twi-lek take her potion back to study and learn about it. Perhaps her own training would enable her to discover how to improve it, and then both women could benefit.

 

"Continue on," she replied. "Keep an eye and ear out for treachery and divisiveness that wouldn't benefit the Sith as a whole, and report them to me. It does no good for the Empire to win on the battlefield and conquer planets if we have no means to train new members of our Order. The Bastion must remain intact and whole, as free from treachery as possible."

 

Qaela had work to do, and wouldn't keep the other woman from her own tasks.