Darth Furion

The order had been placed weeks ago, but with the exchanging of funds, time to put the order together, and deliver, only now was it arriving. An acolyte had been charged with traveling to the distributors, managing the funds, examining the equipment and ensuring its timely arrival. He acted as a representative of a fake corporation with only enough digital credentials to avoid second glances, and the money would come from a dummy account. No one should be able to trace the transaction, or make any connections as to its intent. As instructed, the young man escorted the equipment to the base of a mountain further down the range. Once the other party had left them, more acolytes would pour from nowhere to complete the journey. It took an additional two days for them to get the mining gear the rest of the way by their single transport, but none would be the wiser. "Master, everything you have requested is here. We are ready for your next instructions."

"Are they ready?" "That remains to be seen." "Do you think the Master's apprentices will be able to stand against them? We've spent so long raising them, teaching them. Surely they have become the living shadows He requested." "That is not for us to judge, Six. We could only do what we were instructed to the best of our abilities. There is no use questioning the work after the fact. Either you have done your utmost, or you haven't." "Of course. Forget my feeble weakness." The two cloaked men stood on a balcony overlooking a sea of black. From this height the waves appeared to be composed of ants swaying and crashing against one another, but the Sith Acolytes knew them for their true nature. This was their creation, the Living Shadows of the Seven. A century for each of the Seven stood in the opening of the forest below drilling through daily training like it was their religion. Seven hundred men and women trained for no other purpose than to teach and test the Master's chosen few. Most of them would die, but there was no doubt that these Living Shadows would take life if their opponent was not careful. "I think he will be pleased. They were trained in his own methods." "But not by Him." "Of course, you are right, One. I cannot separate myself from the pride I feel for my work." "Your work is nothing. These creatures are nothing. They will all fall before the might of our Master's work. But not without a fight."

Julio was silent as he was lead through the ancient temple. Long had this been the destination at the end of the journey of training for many young Jedi. Long had it stood as the threshold one must cross to enter fully into the folds of the galaxy, embracing a life of thankless servitude and greater wisdom. Unlike most Sith, Julio understood the certain appeal this path held for many individuals potent enough in the Force to hear its whispers. One often forgets that it isn't any one particular event that makes men what they turn out to be, but a long series of events that collapse upon one another like a long row of dominoes. Knock the wrong one over and things can take a turn for the worse. So many influences, so many critical points that make up a destiny it is no wonder how the galaxy could be filled with so many unique individuals. Perhaps, had things been different, he could have been one of these Jedi, self designated to play the part of the martyr. But it was too late for him. Far too many of the wrong dominoes had been tipped in his time for that to ever happen now. Passing through the hallways he remembered the last time he had visited the temple. There he cut down a young man trying to slow his advance, knowing the precious cargo that lay just down the way. And here three more fell to his ambition, more desperate the further he got to the room the children. He remembered how he relished what they saw in his eyes, in his every stride and strike. No mercy, no compassion. Only forward, ever forward. As he passed by the room that previously had been the final stronghold for those that needed protecting the most, the room that now held the great and terrible wound still after nearly a decade, the beast in the Dark Lord's heart had to be suppressed to keep the howls from reaching the Jedi, but even still he couldn't help but smile for the briefest of moments. When the two of them finally found their way to the office the present Knight in charge took residence in, Julio stopped to give a formal bow and make introduction. Master Rengar. It is a pleasure. I will not dally and get promptly to the matter at hand. In our mission on the outer rim we have, on rare occasion, come across Sith. Now while I have made my reports to the council on the matter, there is one thing I felt I should look into myself since we are here. Traditionally Sith forge their own crystals for their lightsabers, but upon inspection the crystals upon them were not forged, but Adegan originating from this very planet. Are you aware of any other operations on the planet to harvest the crystals?

I see. She seemed to trail off, head sinking low as questions started trickling in. Of course he was involved. Their fates were inexorably twisted together, and would be until one of them was dead. With a heavy shudder she relinquished the eyes of her father before the whispers started to skitter through her mind, and looked back at Raynuk. Thank you for your time, Master Montar. You have been most helpful. Strewn with formality, the dark princess came to her feet and headed back toward the dojo. Yet, a few paces from Raynuk she stopped. I don't think... She started, talking over her shoulder, but paused to consider her words. I know now that I can never truly be free while my Father yet lives.

He was just about to take the datapad when Lallu spoke up. With some effort she seemed to recall the ident codes and designation for a ship, the one thing that would have held them up in their incursion. It was perfect, exactly what he needed. When the plan seemed to hit a bump, the universe, or more specifically this young Twi'lek delivered a gift. Julio turned to catch Lallu's eye and smiled wryly. That's my girl. My padawan never ceases to amaze me. Always with the most seemingly random usefulness. He took the datapad from the Jedi and handed it to Lallu, pressing on through the temple without pause. If you would show Mandela and Jadero to their quarters, my padawan and I would like a word with the Master residing over this temple.

Silently she cursed, knowing the answer before it was spoken. Of course they were gold, what else could they have ever been? Where her fate went, so too did that of Julio's. The two were interconnected, and had been possibly forever. Acis par tēva. Reverent whispers of the old word fell from her lips as she bowed her head and closed her eyes. When she looked up back at Raynuk, the languid pools of blue had fallen away to the seething gold of her Father's eyes. Like this?

Pensively she held quiet while he talked, watching him as he tried to remember. It would seem that talking it out clarified some things, as the vocalization brought forth more revelation apparent in his recollection for just a second. It was an oddity that the images were still. Vision tended to have some fluidity to it, whether very slow, or sometimes even backwards to the seer's perspective, or any number of counter logical manifestations. Still frames in time, however, seemed so out of place. And then another hesitation. Not out of recollection, but of consideration. He wasn't simply trying to relay what he saw, he was considering it and telling her how he wanted her to hear it. Whatever it was, there was some detail missing or obscured. No matter. There was really only one question after everything he mentioned. One small piece of the puzzle missing. Interesting... She held off from making any assumptions just yet. It all depended on what Raynuk answered next. What color were the eyes?

Eyes narrowed in doubt and suspicion, but as the moment had passed and Rose yet remained alive, there wasn't much further use in being angry at Raynuk. After all, it wouldn't go anywhere other than perhaps a smack upside the head as she was put back in her lowly place. None the less, there was something about the incident, how Raynuk claimed to have a vision yet claimed to obtain no real details about it. Rose knew a great deal about visions, though had never witnessed one herself. Picking Julio up off the floor countless times as he mumbled vague details in a lost and powerful language. Tell me what you recall. She said cautiously. It was his body language she watched closely, his physical reaction to the act of reliving the vision in his mind as best he could. The details themselves were often of little consequence in their exactitude, but rather what they meant to the one seeing them, and how they felt about it.

The moment he poked her she felt it again. Sinking. Down into the black morass of cold terror. There was no sense of self here. No past, no future. Only the eternal present that was as vexing as it was unstable. Her heart didn't beat. Her lungs wouldn't expand to draw in the air that wasn't there. Either her eyes didn't work or there was simply nothing to see. Fear, this place was named, and in it Rose was part of the nothing, was nothing. Her mouth held wide like she wanted to scream, to let it out, to find some escape. But again, nothing. Her body wouldn't even feel, yet didn't carry the traditional numb sensation that came from the lack of it. Please, oh god please let me out. I'll do anything, just get me out of here. She came to screaming, somehow scrabbled a few paces away from Raynuk without meeting the cliff's edge. Through ragged breaths the screaming subsided as soon as the world came back into focus, but the fading sensation was etched deep in her memory. What did you do?!

For the moment her eyes stared blankly down into the churning molten rivers beneath them. So Raynuk, too, felt the disturbance with her connection with the Force. When she heard 'Dark Lord', however, she returned to him. It has never been about the destruction of the Jedi for him. To be frank he doesn't give a damn about them. If he wanted, he could operate far under their radar and they'd be none the wiser. She thought for a moment trying to recall Julio's particular phrasing. It is about the struggle, he says. Without bringing the fight to the Jedi, he believes the Order would atrophy, and turn on itself for self discovery. The point of fighting isn't for the killing itself, but the chance to test one's self above and beyond their limitations. She didn't want to break any state secrets, but at the same time Raynuk would be one of the highest ranking Sith among the Order. Surely he would be privy to this much. His intention is to infuriate the Jedi. Constantly harassing them while staying just out of their reach. He wants them to rebuild against him so that he could test himself in bigger and more difficult ways. And then it clicked, all despair and confusion shedding away like an exasperation of relief. Of course her father had obstructed her connection with the Force, made it nearly impossible for her break through. But it was all another struggle, insurmountable odds to overcome and rise through the ashes all the more victorious. Whereas connection with the Force often came with a simple application of time and diligence for most sensitive to it, she would have traverse hellish depths to reach the same plateaus as others. It would either kill her, or make her stronger than the rest. Always chasing death, my Father. She turned to Raynuk, once again shining with that brightness he had seen not long ago.

It does not elude me. It haunts me. The answer came without hesitation, but carried in it a shiver down her spine. If what Raynuk said was true and the Force differed from person to person, was the terror and unending falling sensation the Force's way of speaking to her? At first she had thought that it was something her Father had done to her, for whatever great and mysterious reasons he had, but what if it were simply her? In the end, it didn't change the fact that if Rose wanted to continue to live a free life it would be something she would have to fight against, but the enigma grew larger just the same. I can feel it, see it, hear it. I am aware of the greatness that is the darkness. But it does not permit me to touch it, or rather something does not. Every time I try it feels like it is trying to swallow me whole, take over everything that is me and become something...else. As I am now, I do not believe that I am strong enough to fight against it. Either I stand aside and let it pass through me like the rest of the galaxy, or let it devour me and attach the marionette strings where it will.

Try it and you will know suffering beyond anything you have ever experienced. Rose said just above a whisper, distant as if she were remembering something traumatic that she had struggled to push down. She didn't sound angry at Raynuk's threat of delving into her mind. In fact her tone held an edge of caution, an icy cold fear of what the intrusion would mean. She wasn't sure of the tricks Julio had pulled on her mind, nor the extent to which they went, but she knew full well that he had never let his daughter out of his sight, knowing the gravity of the secrets she held, without defending her to such assaults in some manner. When she finally turned to look up at the Sith Master it was with a curious look. How strong was Raynuk in comparison to her father? Even in his most wrathful moments, Rose was sure she had never really felt the full depth of her father's passion, but even still it had never compared to any other Sith she had come into contact with since they had fully come back into the order. But Raynuk was close. Very, very close. Yet in another, awe inspiring and terrifying way. Yes, I do have questions. And it would seem you have the inclination to answer them, so I'll not waste your time. She patted the ground beside her, offering him a seat by the cliff side to see the great expanse of fiery lakes and monumental factories spanning across the planet below. All I have ever known about the Dark Side is what my Father has told me. But the way he speaks of it, with such passion and drive, it often sounds too much like a mystery to really ever relate. Freedom is chaos, fate is slavery, it all seems so subjective its impossible to quantify. How does it speak to you? What does the darkness whisper?

She could feel eyes upon her, the conscious awareness devoted to drawing in the miasma of anguish she exuded unabashedly. Any other time it could be expected of her to dry her eyes, assume the air of confidence and complacency, and pretend that all was right with the world but really she just didn't give a damn. That's right, look on, see what I feel in your world apart, and move on with it as if it didn't touch you. And why should it? Why should anyone else here care. Aside from Aryian, who largely seemed to be concerned with simply playing his role, the others were Sith tried and true. And as Sith, their lives fell mostly to themselves and where they were going, not toward those they passed by. When she could tell that it was Raynuk from a few paces out, she soldiered up only so as not to look so desperately pitiful. For some reason she didn't want to look so weak in front of him. Maybe it was out of respect of his old title, or fear. Either way, she avoided turning toward him just to hide her puffy eyes. Quite the contrary. I find the fire soothing. Reminds me of father.

The ship is merely on loan, but if you really feel it is necessary I would really like to do it later if you do not mind. I lack the information required to fill out the form, and would much rather head inside out of this cold than walk all the way back to the ship. He pulled his coat around him tighter as a gust of wind cut across them all. Over a year in steaming jungles has left my tolerance for the cold rather lacking and my battered joints ache something fierce.

Fine. She said dismissively. There was no doubt this grey master had been through a great deal in his lifetime, more than just about anyone alive, dead, or yet to be. But for some reason Rose couldn't accept that he, nor anyone for that matter could really understand her 'demons' as he put it. On the other hand she couldn't refute his logic. Fighting was the only real option, to continue the struggle whether it killed her or not. Jumping would just be the easy way out, the coward's way. As terrifying as the prospect sounded, traversing that bottomless depth of primal despair and agony was the only way. Leave me to my choice, then. You selfish bastard. When the next sun rises we'll know one way or the other. The day began to wane on the distant horizon, and it was all Rose could do to sink to the ground, just a step away from the edge, and wait.

So what, this just another test? Staggering odds bent against me just to see what I'll do? Distantly, her soft voice finally escaped. Rose, in all her child like meekness, seemed and felt like a completely different person than what Aryian had met just a day before. She never once looked up from that fiery finality to see the concern on his face or show any sign of receiving his words of caution. I have only ever wanted one thing in my entire life, ever made one choice on my own. To be completely free, wearing only the chains I want. It may sound selfish or unrealistic, but its the type of dream you hold on to. She knew Aryian would let her jump if she wanted. That was just the type of man he was, that much was so easy to see in the Grey Master. He neither held nor desired any influence in anything but his own life. That, more than most any travesty she had witnessed in her life amongst the Sith, was perhaps one of the most selfish. This Grey Master was a lot more like the Dark Lord than he probably cared to admit. I don't know if my Father has held me back, or if its me. I don't really know if he loves me for me, or what I represent. Or even what importance I hold to him. I don't doubt the love I feel from him, but where it comes from. She was standing on her heels now, with her toes hanging just over the edge. Honestly, the way he sees so far ahead I can't even be sure he didn't send me here to die just like this. Finally she looked at Aryian, uncertainty the only thing left for her to feel. I refuse to be a slave to the Force or any callous fate it has for me.

For a while she simply sat there, legs folded up to her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around them. Not once did she stir to wipe away the occasional tear, but they never really seemed to stop. Alone with her misery, her mind was numb to the passage of time. Better yet, it was numb to the thousands of questions swimming in her drowning mind. All she could do was feel all that disappointment. She would never be like him. Never be strong enough to protect herself, so that he didn't have to worry about her anymore. Why did he even bother keeping her around if this was what she would turn out to be? Surely he knew from the very moment they met nine years ago. Why did the greatest man in her life continue to leave himself vulnerable with his affection for her, for a creature that was so terribly weak. Everything she had read in her father's library, every lecture of his she ever attended, told her of how deeply he pitied and despised the weak, the ones not capable or willing to save themselves from their fates. After an hour, though to her felt like little more than a few minutes, she finally rose. Her feet carried her but her mind was still wracked with despair. Her head sunk low, but her eyes didn't really register the floor. Passing by Aryian, she didn't even really pay him any heed either as her feet shuffled on, drawing her toward nowhere. It wasn't until an intense heat washed over her that she finally looked up. She stood at the edge of a cliff just outside the dojo, before the great span of factories and machines. Heartlessly the world churned on beneath her, completely unaware or uncaring for the great weight of suffering she felt. What was the point if she couldn't be strong? Aryian said that everything was as it should be, but why should this be? She could feel the greatness of the Force, feel how powerfully it touched everything, how interconnected it made it all. But she couldn't touch it without falling to that darkness, that unimaginable horror. If she hadn't pulled herself out of meditation when she did it would have just continued to spiral down even further until eventually there was no chance of return. In her heart she knew this to be true. How could she ever survive those depths? How could she ever survive the alternate and never be truly free? Looking down over the edge of the cliff, she guessed she was maybe half a mile up. There was no fear, no spine shivering exhilaration at the precipice. In fact, her mind felt very clear, if not being muddied by endless doubt and self loathing. Only a single question. One that burned in her very soul for an answer. Will it even matter?

The snow was so pleasant. Not even the piercing cold of this planet could chill his furnace heart. Everything was simply so beautiful in the way the flurries swirled about them and fell like the blizzard of thought in an individuals mind. Walking with the soft, crisp crunch below his feet, Julio fell into place not far behind Qaela. He held strong onto that pleasant thought and feeling of the cold and snow, knowing the Jedi would feel any darker discrepancy. Prattling as she was, he couldn't help but smile at the nervousness the witch showed. Clearly this was not her thing, something they would have to discuss at a later point. When the storage box was presented to him, Julio delicately placed his lightsaber in the middle, making sure it didn't come into contact with the Jedi. With but a casual brush of Julio's first and most prominent lightsaber, the Jedi would find themselves in a dark reckoning before they had a chance to recoil. Relax, Mandela. He said with a soft, warm smile. We will have plenty of time. One cannot rush the process to selecting the proper crystal that suits just you. He turned to the Rodian Jedi and offered her a respectable bow. I am sorry we arrived unannounced, but our work tends to keep us out of contact with the Order for long periods. I am Dash Rengar, and this is my apprentice Tsao Vai. We were on our way back toward the core to resupply, but with the Crystal Temple on the way I thought it might be a good time to rest and collect ourselves. Would you mind if we made use of your facilities for a little while?

The world was white. No sky, no discernible ground to speak of. Just a little girl kneeling in front of a massive wroshyr tree. Her very existence in this nothingness world felt so infinitesimal and trivial before this great and venerable thing. It had been alive for thousands of years, simply growing and living. What was she compared to this mighty thing. Aryian's voice drew her deep into this world, in the vastness of her calming mind, shutting out the dojo and the other denizens, the planet below her, everything but her, this tree, and Aryian. As the guided meditation continued, however, and the tree began to fall away something felt wrong. Leaves began to fall around her but disappeared before they hit the nonexistent ground. The tree itself shriveled and whined. Fear seemed to drip into her as the only other thing in her world fell around her. She knew it to be nonsense, she knew that there was no reason to be afraid be she was. Not again, not alone. Even with Aryian here, eerily lost to the backdrop, solitude and smallness consumed her. What was it about being alone that brought her this fear, that convoked this primal side of her so easily? Was this the Force, its infinite everything-ness that overshadowed all sense of composure in this little girl, or did she just fall to fear from her past attempts at meditation? The tree was gone and she was alone. Her heart thundered inside her chest and she closed her eyes, to hide away from it all. The terror of nothingness wouldn't hammer itself into her mind every creeping second because she simply wouldn't let it. No, no! Aryian's presence was lost now, whatever calming aura he had tried to usher into her washed away with that irrationality rooted deep into her subconscious. This wasn't normal, this wasn't how she was supposed to be and she knew it. Yet she was powerless to fight it. The monster inside her was greater, more dominant than she would ever be and she knew it, felt it to be true with everything in her being. Back in the real world, Rose appeared to be calm. Her eyes were closed, her hands folded softly in her lap, and her lips moved slowly to a meditative mantra. The words were soft, just below the cusp of hearing, never ceasing in their rhythmic loop. The ancient Sith language that fell from her lips held a power, older and darker than the language itself. Her mind simply was not capable of reaching that serene center, of conceptualizing her individual self as part of the greatness that was the Force. She couldn't even understand who she was, or where she wanted to go, how could she understand her place in the Force? When her eyes finally opened to the dojo they shone with a bright, golden illumination. After a few quick blinks the chanting stopped and her eyes returned to their deep blue but the unmistakable presence of her father could not be forgotten. He had done something to her, put something deep in her mind to anchor her in these times when the Force was strong in her. But what remained a mystery for the moment. She turned to look at Aryian, unaware of the tears running down her face. "I...I can't..."

A deep breath of exhilaration. The ship winked out of hyperspace and into the orbit of Ilum and everything came rushing in at once. The Force itself cried in agonizing silence at the return of the conqueror, the one who wounded it so terribly when last he stepped upon its frozen surface. How many fell that day? Too many to count, all of them innocent in ways lost to this merciless monster since he first accepted that dark embrace. His heart sped up, his mouth watered at the feel of the unmovable imprint he left upon the Jedi temple nestled within the crystalline caverns and the brightness of life of those that now called it their home. Take us in. The ship landed just a few hundred meters outside the main entrance. By now the Jedi would know they were here, but the Dark Lord jealously held the culminated darkness of his party from their perception. He took it all into himself, obscuring himself in the others and suppressed it deep down in the cage. The Beast howled in protest as always, claustrophobic even further with the added passion of two others. Vaegir needed no help hiding as he had yet to even embrace the Dark Side, let alone make an impression on the Force. We are here on premiss of acquiring lightsaber crystals. He began as he stood from his seat, adjusting his gear and straightening his coat. When we get in, Qaela and Vaegir will assume the relationship of Knight and Padawan. Qaela, you will be there to help guide Vaegir in selecting his first crystal. You two will be guided away from the main temple, down into the caverns where the crystals are pure and untouched. When you get far enough away from the group, take out your escorts. I will try to suppress your movements as best I can, but they will know something is off when you make your move. He wasn't really even paying attention to whether or not they were listening. As he spoke he calibrated his lightsabers and check the drums to his slugthrower, all the things a warrior does to prepare for battle. It was almost ritualistic, a form of meditation in its own right to those practiced in the art of killing. Lallu and I will be in the temple proper. I will be asking for tour, as my apprentice has never been herself. If any ask, we are commonly on mission on the outer rim, and only get to return to temple every few years. Any details beyond that will be trivial, and up to you to fill in. In their seclusion they may be excited to hear tales of the outer rim. Qaela take the lead and Vaegir will work off you. If anything, the boy has skill at bullshit. Replacing his weapons within the folds of his coat, he pulled the ryyk blade from its sheath, as well as a small vial of black rage poison. With a measured hand he put small drops on the edge every few inches, smoothing it out with his bare finger without much regard. Qaela, once you take out your escort, make your way to the communication hub. Silence them, and then make your way back to us. When the poison was applied through the entire blade he replaced it in its sheath on his back, and licked the rest of the poison off his finger. Any minute now they will be calling us, so prepare yourselves.

((Apologies for the lateness. Family time this weekend, culminated with some busy work the past couple of days.)) To some degree it was comforting to hear that the condition that plagued her was not unheard of, but according to Master Aryian those few that had dealt with it tended to be shut down by it. She took this news in a solemn silence, lost in thought as Emily returned with a guest. Rose didn't recognize him at first, but at the sound of Raynuk's name she broke from self concern into awe. In part it was simply being in the presence of a previous Dark Lord, something traditionally unheard of. When a new Dark Lord took the mantle it was always at the cost of life of the old one. Her father had assumed the role in an obscure fashion, seizing the chaos and opportunity of missing leadership while allowing his potency to speak for itself. Slicer had disappeared, Haphaestus had lost his followers, and Raynuk Montar had died. Yet here he was, standing in front of her, just as Julio had predicted. Aryian bowed out and moved to the meditation chamber, wanting to try something or another to understand better this enigma in the Force that hindered Rose so deeply. Of course, Rose was expected to follow, but for a moment she was locked in disbelief. "It..." She began, eyes devouring the sight of the man. It didn't make sense, the dead stay dead. "It is an honor, Master Montar." She said breathlessly with a deep bow, holding it perhaps a few moments longer than was customary. "I have read much of your reported exploits, but I expect there is a great deal left off the pages I would very much enjoy to hear." Ever the scholar she was like a giddy little girl again, meeting a character from her bedtime stories. Impossibly, she noted, as he even seemed to free himself of the finality of death itself. In an instant everything came into perspective when she remembered that her father had told her this very thing would happen. "Oh! I have something for you, I almost forgot." Without warning she bolted away back to her room, gone for maybe thirty seconds to return with a small box. "At first, I thought my father had lost himself to vision again when he told me you would show up here. Sometimes the past, present and future tend to blur together when he spends too much time in the trance." She looked up from the box for a moment to give Raynuk and Emily a look, hesitantly checking their reactions to this odd bit of news about the Dark Lord. Suddenly she realized that these were the very sorts of things that she was not supposed to tell people, so her eyes quickly flicked back to the box as she stumbled her words on quickly. "So he said that when you showed up I should give you this." Outstretching her hands Rose offered the box to Raynuk. As she stepped closer, her nose involuntarily wrinkled at some odd, potent smell. It was a mixture of sweat and something else she couldn't identify. What is that? "And to give you a message." She said as she stepped back, not wanting to bring the oddness up. "How did he put it?" She couldn't remember the exact words, but knew the exactness of it was important somehow. "Oh, yes. 'Congratulations, and apologies. Seize it while you can.' I'm sorry, but I don't really know what he means by that. Sometimes I think my father enjoys being confusing." Looking behind her, toward the way Aryian had gone, Rose realized that she had kept him waiting perhaps a bit too long. "I'm sorry, I really would like to stay and talk. Well, I guess all I've done is talk and haven't given you a chance. I'm sorry. Um...but I have to go. Master Aryian wanted to do something in the meditation chamber and I don't want to keep him. If you're staying around, I would love to talk later. It was really great to meet you. Really!" With another deep bow she bid farewell and walked rather quickly to meed with Aryian. When she arrived, he was already settled in meditation, seemingly not at all concerned with her tardiness. Regardless, Rose couldn't help but apologize profusely. "I'm so sorry, Master, but I had to stay for just a moment. All records had Master Montar dead by all accounts, so seeing him here of all places seemed to strike me with awe."

Surprise took her as Aryian called the fight right after the tackle. He seemed genuinely impressed by the move, but Rose had just gone all in. At the time it didn't seem like a particularly obscure or skillful move, it just felt right. She didn't notice the slight smile creep onto her face as her master praised her, though made a point to say it could have been a fluke. That didn't matter. She proved she wasn't just a child. She had some skill. Yet when he asked about what she knew of the Force the smile quickly faded. "Well...." Rose started hesitantly, her eyes unconsciously falling to the floor. "I've studied a great deal of philosophy and history into both the Jedi and Sith, as well as many off shoots and cultural religions based around the Force. But most of my training has revolved around fighting. I can't..." She paused to weigh her words, not really sure how to explain it the way her father had. "I can't really call on the Force. I mean, I can feel it but I just sort of flow with it, I guess? Whenever I try to focus on anything specific, it just feels like I'm grabbing at smoke." Words fell out faster and faster until she felt like she was nearly stumbling over herself, stopping to try to collect her thoughts. "Sometimes, when the flow is especially powerful I get lost to it. A few times I've blacked out and woken up to a great mess. Mostly broken droids, or walls, and..." She stopped again, not really sure what else to say.

When the fight between Emily and Aryian was through, Rose wasn't at all surprised that the master then turned his attention toward her. It was as she expected, a mistake had been made. Well, if he wanted to see for himself she would do her utmost to display her skills. A small part of her thought the exchange to be pointless, seeing as how Aryian was keen to utilize the Force in his first round and obviously far more potent with it than she would be for a long, long time, but the idea was tossed aside as he rose from his bow, arching back his arm to toss the lit saber at her. A fateful heartbeat skipped in her chest. She couldn't control the Force, not even in the slightest. She couldn't even feel it in any way anyone she had ever known had described it. Years of reading, of practicing her arts, and none of it yielded any measurable connection to the greatness of everything. Self preservation was the only thing that broke her from that heartbeat of fear, instinct and reaction forcing her to tumble forward from her kneeling seat to duck under the lightsaber. It would be coming back around, thrown lightsabers always came back around, but as she was seated against the wall the wide arch of the toss would be too far away on the rebound to danger her just yet. Avoided, the blade would only come back into play once it followed through with its momentum and fell back into the hands of the one that cast it. As her feet met the floor once again from the tumble, Rose ignited her lightsaber just in time to intercept the one Aryian still held, springing up with a jump to throw a quick kick at the Master's weaponless side before the boomerang came back. Normally she would have fallen back, reset the stances and waited for her opponent to make the first move to be countered, but something pushed her. Emily's display had been one of magnificent fervor, aggressive and pressing. She felt like she needed to show her new master something impressive, something to push the envelope. The snap of her kick fell back rapidly and planted firmly. With her lightsaber still pointed down for that tight defensive circle, ready to intercept the riposte, her whole body lunged forward into a tackle, her free arm already moving in to try to intercept Aryian's own before it could move in to capitalize on the very close distance.

In a flash the lightsaber hissed alive just as the droid made its first glimmer of a move, intercepting the blade with a step in far exceeding what was considered normal. So close, and the poor girl wouldn't be able to utilize the strength of her arms to handle the strike. Yet, as she was stepping in, her downward pointed lightsaber had already began its crescent sweep to not catch the blade, but redirect its momentum up and over her head in her dart inward. The droid would, of course, come around for a counter strike, but it would have to sweep in front of its body again to bring it back around, and Rose was already at its back, spinning on the ball of her foot to whip her weapon around to cleave the thing in half. For years she had practiced, martial skill the only art her Father openly allowed her to cultivate, and in all that time only once did she ever face an opponent that was anything other than a droid or some form of war machine. Breaking them had become her medium of expression, the only marked form of progression in her pursuit of perfection. All told the exchange between her and this poor machine lasted but a few rapid moments, and when the pieces separated and fell to the floor only then did she realize her mistake. Perhaps the Master wanted her to duel him. As Emily threw herself at him, and as he responded so well in kind it seemed to be the natural answer to his initial demand, but why then the droids? He could have just as easily handed the weapons out himself, or had just one droid bring them out. It all seemed odd, but for some reason the girl couldn't help but feel somewhat embarrassed for the misunderstanding. When she thought of training, she naturally made the connection to the droids after so many years. Her one and only living opponent ended in so much blood, so much permanence... Quietly she stood aside, deactivating her lightsaber and kneeling by the wall to give the other two room enough to spar. Embarrassed or not, she didn't let it show, and she never took her bright blue eyes off their movements. Each pass and swing and block and parry, she absorbed it all, studying for the inevitable.

She didn't tense as the droids entered, knowing their intent before they encircled the ring. Her muscles remained unencumbered, her mind fluid and ready. It had not been entirely set that physical combat would be the starter lesson in the first of all days, but the chosen local of the sparring ring did lend weight to the assumption. It seemed Master Aryian wanted to see them in action, to as he put it understand them better. As much to be expected, she gathered. Otherwise where would he know where to begin without understanding his student's levels. Unconsciously her left hand lifted to catch the lightsaber as she eyed the droid closest to her, statuesque in the few short moments before engaging in its combat protocols. Next to her Emily seemed to explode toward the Master the moment lightsaber touched her hand, either misunderstanding the exercise or wanting to make a more direct display. Never the less, Rose barely seemed to move on her droid opponent, flipping the hilt around in her hand to point it down upon ignition as she surveyed the droid. Of course it was larger than her, taller too by a good half meter. It would have heavy momentum behind it, but speed couldn't be ascertained by simply guessing at the make and model. That was a setting that could be adjusted based on difficulty of the workout and specs of the droid. Slowly she began to pace to the right, keeping her arms low and her lightsaber as of yet unlit. After a couple steps the droid seemed to come back alive and fell into a tandem motion with Rose, pacing to its own right as it readied its sparked lightsaber in a common dueling stance. The paces started to move inward now, as each combatant got steadily closer toward one another. Would the droid make the first move, or did its protocols outline a reflexive initiative? How strong were artificial nerves? How close could she get? A couple more paces away now, and soon they would be within easy striking range. But the way Rose held her lightsaber left her in a very defensive position, able to maintain the inner circle with comfort and agile enough to respond swiftly. Whatever the direction the assault came from, unless followed up in an incredibly aggressive style, she could catch it. Catch it and turn it about in one swift flourish. She only had to wait, and watch.