John Skywalker

Two glasses of red wine appeared in the hands of a Noghri servant, John mused, "Relax, you have won, and that is what matters for the moment. Rest and enjoy yourself for now." He took a sip of the wine, "I think it is time you entered your first task alone, to test what you have learned of the Dark Side. What do you think that task should be? It is customary for those gifted in the Dark Side to go ahead and begin their construction of a lightsaber, but you have already stated your desire to forego the customary... what do you think that task should be?"

John chuckled, "Whiskey or wine?" Taking a seat, he relaxed as the Meditation Chamber began to open, with a hiss. Tapping his chin, "I assume that endeavour was quite taxing, yes?"

John smiled, "Congratulations, Tethyn." He stood to observe the boy's heroic pose. "Tethyn, awaken... you have won, you have unlocked the key to true strength."

"TETHYN!" His screams cut through the dead silence. His cold hands touched the boy's form to make certain he was still breathing, and there was no breath. Searching through the Force, John forced his body into respiration, vacating his lungs with the toxic gases and filling them with fresh oxygen. Deep in the premonitions, something was stirring Tethyn alive, a cold metallic object appeared in his hands and it represented a chance to fight the demons. "FIGHT TETHYN! Defeat that which is within, it is the only way to true power!"

"No! This battle you must fight alone." John watched the boy's body, their minds were linked, to a point and he could see all that was happening within it while they were trapped within the structure. "Use the pain. It is your strength. Through Strength you gain power. Through power you gain Victory. Through Victory, your shackles are broken. Free yourself, Tethyn!"

John nodded, "I understand, however, without putting myself at risk... you will not come to terms with your power. If you are incapable of doing this now, in time, you will learn. Fortunately, Sirvani is not here, only I. My powers are far beyond your un-trained state... and I am relatively certain that despite the Dark Side's general displeasure in me, the Force as a whole, still knows I have a purpose... it wouldn't kill me, at least not yet." The meditation chamber concealed them from the rest of existence, in absolute silence, John's eyes remained opened and focused on Tethyn's, "Now, Apprentice, focus... force this dreams to the fore-front of your mind, to your conscious mind. Only there, will you be able to curb them..."

John sipped again from the wineglass before bringing his other hand to his chin. "No, young Valor, combat is not the next step... no, I want you to focus on the Voices. Focus on the Dark Side tendrils themselves." He leaned forwards, "Only by understanding the nature of the enemy within you, even if it threatens me and mine, will you be able to overcome it." Standing, John drank the last of the blush fluid and set it down, before walking towards the door, "Noghri, clean this table. Tethyn, follow me to the Meditation Chamber, we shall see the nature of your enemy..."

John looked up at Tethyn, the bleeding wound was quickly resolved and John didn't speak, only watched the boy. He no longer ate as he was full, an expression of worry scribbled over his face. "Your thoughts are open to me, Tethyn, those voices... the darkness that speaks to you, it spoke to me, once. It drove me to madness, they are the tendrils of the Dark Side. They are the elements that corrode your existence, they cut into your soul and tear you apart... only a Sith who surpasses this tendrils can achieve Mastery, fail to curb them and it will be the death of those you care about. Your thoughts, Tethyn, they betray you... in time, I shall train you to keep them at bay, both those voices and your own thoughts from resounding to the surrounding force sensitives. In time, such ability will allow an opponent to keep from reading your actions as a fighter." John took a sip from the wine as he leaned back into the chair, his eyes never wavering from Tethyn...

He nodded, "It is said, the Force discusses our future in our dreams. It warns us of the oncoming future... although, like all forms of symbolism, it's relatively obscure. You are training to be a Sith, the Demons could be representative of the Dark Side growing in you... or perhaps something deeper." The Noghri servants brought in the next course, tender slabs of roast nerfherder, which John began to sever from the bone, "It is one way, it foretells our future. Many Masters of the Force spend years in meditation and contemplation, harnessing their understandings of the Force before it gives to them visions of the future. One must be careful with these visions, an improper reading can lead to disasters to their seer or those around him." John chewed the soft meat, as he remained quiet, "I know you've been curious of my memoirs... its understandable. I believe, through them, should I pass on or leave this world... I feel I will not return as I have before. I would hate to leave the world without my musings, I figure I'm just that important... I see it as preparations for the future."

John smirked, "Well, that depends. What would you like? Roast Nerfherder is the Chef's speciality. He also prepares a fine collection of cold cuts adorned with fruits and vegetables grown on the plains of Dantooine or Trulalis." He spread his hands along the table, as the Noghri brought the first dish, "I am considered a new-Royal, at least in my own mind, and I tend to partake in such an atmosphere with lavish decorations and furniture. I've even gifted the Noghri with all of my vast knowledge in all aspects. Mechanics, Metallurgy, Martial Arts, Weaponry... even the nimble art of Cooking." John's eyes crinkled as he jested before he signaled for the Noghri to unveil the first course, slivers of cold meats adorned a plate next to an assortment of vegetables and fruits. Breads adorned with freshly-ground peppers and assorted flavor enhancers lined the length of the table. As John drew his chopsticks, he produced a portion of the tender meat to his lips and began to consume it peacably. When he finished with the first meal, he looked up at Tethyn, "Tell me, when you dream, what do you see?"

As Tethyn departed, John called the datapad to his otherwise empty hand and looked over it. It was not long before he strolled to see Sirvani's collection of works... "Form VII? Well, I'm glad she's getting something done in her time off..." He picked up the files and re-arranged them on a nearby table, leaving a note, I look forwards to your return, perhaps, we can finish up a few formalities when you return. His tone and walk were quite casual, even as his body beckoned for repose, he rode the turbo-lift that brought him to the penthouse of the Tower and opened the large view-window, exposing the otherwise peaceful sunset, before setting down the datapad and arms on the nearby shelf and entering the Refresher unit. He removed his dusty, grime-stricken clothes and felt it all rush away from his skin with the cool water. Donning a simple robe, he dressed and walked barefoot on the marble floor towards the crisp, white linens before falling on them and sealing his eyes to enjoy a few hours worth of rest. A Noghri servant awoke him soon afterwards to usher in the preparation of the meal, "Good. Have it served within the hour." With that, he picked up the datapad and went to the large apartment's equivalent of a den and continued writing... The Force is not as Light and Dark as one would hope. There is a different aspect, strange and ethereal which unifies it. It binds and grows with the advancement of each individual, it feeds off of their strength. It can be divided in two forms of its use in the mortal, living world. The Wild and the Tame, the Kinetic and the Potential... the Dark Side is often associated more with the Kinetics, the manipulation of active energy. Lightning, Pyromancy, Aeromancy are all examples of Kinetic Force Mastery exemplified by Sith. I regret, I am limited in my discourses, for I have only trained in one discipline of the Multiversal Force, in time, I hope I may be able to offer teachings on the Tame and Potential... With that, the Master, removed himself from the Datapad and walked towards the Dining Hall, awaiting his Apprentice. A pair of sandals adorned his feet as he sat and waited for Tethyn's appearance...

Even as his body instinctively strained to double-over in pain, he was locked in place by Tethyn's arms. His conscious mind switched his body's desires, dropping down to his knees, before hoisting Tethyn up by the thigh, and forcing his now freed shoulder into Tethyn's side. The pair came tumbling down, the brunt of the impact on Tethyn's opposing side. "Even a cheap shot is to be exploited, I'll have to remember, you could be the death of me." The elder man chuckled before he drew his blade to his hand, "You have learned much today, meditate and rest. I must attend to a few personal matters in the next couple of hours... when you are ready, join me in the Dining Hall for an evening's meal."

"No, focus." It seemed as if John's body blended into the very air between Tethyn's punches, the distance was short and instead of a fist, a single, open-palm strike at the crux of the breast-bone brought the boy's advance to a halt. The air once more exiting his body in a thrust. "Attack with concentration. Rage is a tool, but only when targeted and controlled is it of use. Fury is blind. Blindness is powerless." With the two engaged in combat again, an over-extended fist streaked past John's face, only to itself trapped in the vice-grip of the teacher. Tethyn's body was flung over his shoulder and landed squarely on the floor. "Use your opponent's actions. He will be the catalyst for his own defeat." Lifting the boy to his feet, "Try again."

"Good." Dodging slightly to the left, Tethyn's twin blades coming closer to slicing open his robes, his arms outstretched above his Apprentice. Moments later, the blades clashed overhead, metal sparks flailing across the dirt arena of the forge as each become that much more comfortable with the other's technique. Tethyn was truly impressive, powerful and young, with raw power to draw from. Old age had the benefits of wisdom, experience and developed talent and combining those together, John was and always will be a formidable opponent. Increasing his power and speed just a touch more, John's curved blades slid down the length of Tethyn's locking the swords, allowing John to knee his Apprentice into a far wall. "When dueling, all appendages are weapons. Now, let's practice your hand-to-hand combat." John struck the blade, point-first into the dirt and opened into Form IV/VII hybridized martial arts style. A thin smirk appeared across the older man's face. "Harness your enemy's movements for your advantage. A Sith is best known for his ability to curb the impetus, both moral and physical, of his opponent and corrupt it for his own means. Learning with the body is often the best way, before you can harness it with the mind. Allow the Force to fuel your movements and your body, let its strength flow through you and power your actions."

The blades had been tangled for quite sometime, the nature of their weapon's similarities was quite surprising, seemingly with each truly worthwhile Apprentice he finds one that more mirrors his own nature. He did not struggle to move, he merely continued to probe his Apprentice's style. He was not out to kill or ruthlessly damage his Apprentice, he was only using his natural, human, unhindered abilities. It was when he saw the glint of metal moving along his right ankle that John acted. The elder man's body flipped over the blade's steep arch, a left cybernetic appendage grounding Tethyn's wrist to a screeching halt. "Good. Now use the Force... it will allow you to predict my moves as I make them and it allows me to predict your's. True Mastery involves becoming imperceptible to harm." John released Tethyn's arm from the vice-grip of his inorganic appendage, bringing the blade down, at an angle, awaiting the young lad to stand. When he did, John's blade came up frighteningly fast. "I will increase my abilities exponentially, you will do your best to react." John's blade was parried, with the Master only leaping backwards, the blade shifting only to strike horizontally with greater force into Tethyn. Each time taxing the young man's muscles that much more...

"Happy? Are you?" The elder man stepped off to the side, the flat of his blade forcing Tethyn's new weapon off to the side, evading the second equally menacing blade by leisurely stepping over it. Drawing the blade into both hands, John's Sithsword split into two symmetrical blades, one in each of the Master's hands. Never attacking with purpose, only glancing off blows, John spoke, "Happiness is something no one can attain... its much too fleeting. I believe my life will be content and different... perhaps at peace, where I will need not to fight to ensure my survival." The flat of the John's blades once more parried another slash, boxing in the head of his Apprentice, "I'd reflect on the Tame nature of the Force... on meditation and harmony. To fully grasp its intricacies. Not evil nor good, simply whole. I don't expect you to understand it nor accept it..." Drawing in a moment, the twin blades gashed upwards, forcing Tethyn to parry, the graceful movements of the cooing sounds of the Sithswords in his hands, as they twins whispered into the winds. "It is a good blade... but you must learn that much of the practical, martial arts must be learned in the Physical reaches of space and time, in the hear and now. You fight well enough, but you must learn to fight better. So that one day, you will be the best."

John admired the boy's actions, they were quite the enthralling paradigm of youth. The glow in his eyes, the appearance of his soul... it was all too romantic and heroic, or villainous as the case may be. With hands at his chin, he watched before replying, gathering the boy's words and nodding when appropriate... "As you wish, Apprentice... allow me a moment to gather it." Leaving Tethyn in the absence of his watchful eye for a few minutes, John appeared with a relic of his past in his hands. The blade was different from the traditional design of Sith swords, it was curved and much lighter. Inscriptions ran along its length, crafted solely of Mandalorian Iron, the cortosis ore quite a malleable and weak metal, brittle. It proved useful in alloys, but never as its own substance. The warrior moved the blade, his steps considerably graceful, despite the surgeries... The curved edge tapered a millimeter's width at its sharpest and almost a full centimeter at the blades center, before tapering back in the same stretched crescent shape. A small cloth adorned the blade's hilt, more of a decorative touch by its creator than anything else. With one hand at his back, his feet shoulder-width apart and his eyes staring back at his apprentice, John smirked... "Attack at will..."

He had been sitting for as long as Tethyn had been forging and several pages were already disposed of, writings and ideas, like the notebook of a madman leaving behind his masterpiece and recollections. While John never considered himself more than a mortal, despite boasts, he figured someone would want to know what he was all about before he passed on and strange things possessed him to do so... the "Wild" force as he had come to call this new strange melding of Light and Dark that seemed to hang rife with his powers, it allowed him to feed off techniques he already knew while keeping a semblance of a balance. His eyes rose from the Datapad before setting within his robes, he observed the blade as Tethyn drew on his pain from its scorching touch. "It is good. Tell me what it means to you, this blade... and when you are ready, we shall test it."

John looked over at the boy and a smile crept to his face before approaching to get an even closer look. "A warrior's weapon is an extension of the self. A self-portrait of one's soul, if you will. I kept my Sith sword and still have one here in this Temple... I crafted it during my Apprenticeship and made a remake since I lost the first one during the Arach'tar War... or was it called the Tyranid Invasion? Or was it the Raid of the Jedi on Sullust?" The elder man seemed lost in a moment of fading memory before shaking his head, "I'm getting too old, it seems. Anyhow, as I was saying, the weapon reflects the mannerisms of its wielder. That is the only reason I can view the lightsaber's effectiveness... they are crafted as tools more than truly bonded weapons, despite the interior crystal. The heart of the blade. Forging an entire weapon does allow one's blood and sweat to really meld with the weapon... or its armor." Nodding when the boy spoke of the metallurgist's fallacy in crafting the proper balance for an armor to enhance dexterity, John mused, "You can say, I've always preferred my flesh taking the impact... it seemed more of a natural connection to the Force. I call upon it quite heavily to survive my engagements. It's why I'm bonded so strongly to other living creatures... I siphon their strength to enhance mine, you could say. That is the true nature of a Force bond's power. You will learn of these at another time, perhaps I shall share my natural ability to forge them with you... but be wary of your bonds, for their break is painful. Mind-numbingly so." The Master continued to ramble before his words were not much more than a mumble and strange notations in a datapad of his personal thoughts...and theories.

"That is good. Someone should know its intricacies when I'm gone." A slight smile appeared but it was overshadowed by the seriousness in his hazel-grey eye, cybernetics could reveal no emotion, only a faded crimson light that scanned the environment for obstacles and whatever the elder man wished. He parted the path revealing the face of the forge and the supplies abounding by it... modern and aged technology lingered about the two men. "I have always been a fan of the melee weapon and then the lightsaber, with one's own body providing the remaining impetus. However, in my younger years I did learn a portion of Sith Alchemy, I am no expert and in this age, I know very few that are... there was a Sith by the name of Ahriman but I remember truly little about him. He was apprenticed to an old rival of the Dark Lord and I, but he's passed on. There was also Master Rocketblaze and his Lords, but they have also moved elsewhere. I can manipulate the metals and know of a few things to make them lightsaber-resistant... beyond that, we'd be learning together." John stopped as he looked at the furnace. "Traditionally, these are used to produce a lightsaber crystal. Allowing for them to be much more powerful than those within a Jedi's blade... as they are crafted with their user. By the same token, alchemically-enhanced weapons, such as the Sithsword or my Battle Axe and armor can be crafted in these furnaces with an adept's knowledge of the art... or the marginal wisdom of a few Sith spells." The metals were displayed before them, "Presently, I have some reserves of cortosis-ore and Mandalorian Irons. Durasteel plating can also be found. However, I have always believed armor was a limit on a fighter's agility... but given my newest appendages, I might as well become an armor-clad soldier." He laughed, "I'd move a touch faster."

"Good." John called the little orb and smashed it, his eyes judging Tethyn's next expression, before a thin smirk formed on his face. "No, you don't have to do it again... we're moving on to something else." The first step was a bit shaky, metallic limbs were always a bit strange at first, but it took a few moments for his natural balance to return and a touch of grace with a kiss by the force kept the man's paces stable. He moved forwards and opened a pathway, "I designed this place for use by the Sith as a refuge, strange, only I and those I teach come to view it as such. I suppose, I... like it this way." The path was a long stretch of bridge over a cavernous fall, what parted the two solid masses of land within the Temple was a flowing river of molten metals which fed the furnace. "I have a strong belief that you would like a slightly less orthodox weapon to begin your training, yes? I think it is time we armed you." They came to a long staircase that led to the furnace and begin walking towards it...

John called the orb to his hand and inspected it, a natural eye skimming the surface and the force for imperfections, the other, strangely glimpsing into the atomic level for perfection. It was a beautiful thing this eye, it allowed to make certain of the molecular completeness without resorting to outside machinery. It was truly a gift. It seemed nearly complete... only a speck of dust may have been out of place. His eyes raked over Tethyn, "Again." The orb fragmented just as it had before... spreading throughout the entire temple. "Meditate and concentrate further."

John let the young man assist him, standing with the aid of the chair. He removed the eye-patch, light patterns creating a dazing clash of light and reality. Being blind was much easier. The master watched, lacking any sign of emotion, only taking in the boy's statement. "If you can't do something, focus harder. I'm considerably lenient, the Sith would eat you alive or rip to shreds for failing at such a simple task." John removed the brace, bringing his arms across his chest, his neural network adjusting to the conflicting sight...

OOC: Sorry man, RPing with me is a process. I'm methodical and very detail-oriented, but you're right. You need to be trained. IC: The elder man raised an eyebrow, the grey hair just showing itself slightly from beneath a bandaged and patched cybernetic eye. It was confusing as his mind tried to settle that which was an electronic feed and that which was human flesh taking in natural light, slowly he was becoming more machine than man and it was taking quite the toll on his psyche, in addition to a groom's usual jitters, the fact that a random affair led to a pregnancy with a psychotically-powerful force-sensitive fetus tied to him, and the sapping ability of several in-tandem force bonds. He moved his arms, rising to face the young boy of eighteen, "Yes, your training... I tend to be quite forgetful." He patted down his leg finding it was quite the magician's touch of cybernetics. It was much more clean and powerful connection, crafted with powerful steel and ores, notably a cortosis weave throughout the machinery. It was much stronger and more resistant than his last operation with the servo-motors and nerve connections placed much higher in his thigh. The entire structure of wires was platinum-plated, allowing for a stronger and more concentrated capacity with his Force Lightning due to the metal's high conductivity and general shine. "You can begin by helping me off this bed... and restructuring this orb." A crystalline orb appears out of nowhere (actually made of particulate matter in the air of the otherwise perfectly sterile medbay) in John's outstretched palm. "The Force is a pervasive conduit of matter and energy, in lamen's terms, it composes and is everything. Every fragment contains a particular signature. Your first task is to center yourself and re-collect the orb using solely the Force. It is a task of the mind and of concentration, harness your dark thoughts and use them to rip the shards back into Order under your Will." The crystalline orb immediately shattered before dissipating to microscopic fragments throughout the sterile medbay. "Learn to see through the Force, ignoring normal sight, living sight, and then the Force will bend to you with greater ease and grace."

Even as he was about to argue a Noghri female waved a big finger in his face ordering him to shut up, something all those about to operate on the elder man equally wanted. It was a strange moment before a mask was placed over his face and he fell asleep instantly... It was in that subconscious moment that he felt something stirring, like swimming in an all-encompassing ocean. Twin lungs clawing for breath and small eyes, sealed behind blood and fluids, as well as twin small arms stretching out at the ends of his limited volume... the image extended itself to a young woman, Bekka, and her moaning cries. In his moment of subconsciousness, "She's pregnant!" His eye darted open before sealing itself and machines went about the older man's leg stump and empty eye socket...