Haphaestus

"Clear your mind," Haphaestus snapped as she let a bolt slap against her gauntleted fingers. "You are feeble but the Force is strong. You must surrender your blade and divorce your mind from your movements. Once your muscles are autonomous, you may then turn your mind to other things, such as attack." The Sith Master started mixing in a few other techniques to test Zutia's control. He would lay down a steady stream of fire, then pause to interrupt it and then trigger twice as many shots to make up for the pause. His trigger work was a bit more rapid than most species of organics could manage with a semi-automatic weapon, and he had such a fine control of his motions that he could exercise fine adjustments to his rate of fire to form both organized and random firing patterns with unique bolt placement and tempo. He started sending more bolts than she could deflect her way, sometimes towards her feet or just past her frame to see if she could recognize and prioritize blaster fire that actually threatened her and to see if she would remain mobile and dodge incoming fire using the same precognition that was allowing to to deflect the shots. And he wondered if it would become so easy to her that she started sending them back his way.

Haphaestus was in motion before the first trigger pull. He made a series of lightning-fast, ultra-precise movements to intercept and deflect the incoming blasterfire upon his burning crimson blade, sending it screaming away at a variety of angles. Rather than make his movement continuous and fluid as he might have if he were trying to conserve energy or focus upon another task, he positioned his blade with snappish flicks and gestures that pronounced the fact that he was acting with foreknowledge of the bolts' trajectories. As the barrage continued, he began to demonstrate his control over their outbound course, not by sending them to strike Zutia but by redirecting them in a gradual arcing pattern over her head. Even as she shifted her aim and he repositioned his blade, each shot came back to take its place in the pattern. After several seconds of this, the Sith Master nudged her rifle barrel out of the way with telekinesis, signaling a pause. "As you can see, the same danger sense and precognition that serves us in blade combat is the key to deflecting blasterfire," he instructed. "The precise positioning of the blade to not only intercept bolts but also to redirect them at a specific point in space is far too complex for a limited organic mind to calculate, especially in a combat situation. You must learn not to second-guess the guidance of the Force as you command it in your defense." He closed the distance between them and reached out a hand for the blaster rifle so that they could reverse roles. He would start with shots just wide of their mark so that if she erred Zutia would not perish, then slowly work into something more real. Hopefully the rifle would have a low power setting as well--very few apprentices, even ones as strong as the Agamarian had proven to be, could master such techniques without ever missing a bolt.

Zutia held well against the force of the lightning blast and let her lightsaber absorb the disperse the harmful tendrils of electricity that sought to destroy her body with relative ease. It was why the technique had fallen somewhat out of Haphaestus' good graces--a simple telekinetic thrust could be just as harmful while being much more difficult to counteract by an opponent with a lightsaber. The advantage was, perhaps, that it was more sustainable and could inflict agony without necessarily killing the victim, making it valuable for a Sith trying to torture his or her enemies or slowly batter down their defenses. Haphaestus had little use for the former and more direct ways of handling the latter. He had to give Zutia credit for going for the unexpected lightsaber throw. It kept her from having to advance on his position through the lightning barrage and there was a fair chance the spinning blade would shield her long enough to avoid taking too much of a shock before he inevitably had to call off his own attack in order to defend. Time seemed to slow to a crawl within the android's mind as some of his higher functions burst into activity, calculating the trajectory of the blade and projecting the location of its hilt for any conceivable moment in the near future. Gracefully, almost casually, he broke off his lightning attack, took a half step back, and caught the thrown lightsaber near its pommel. "Cunning," he said, making no move to attack even though he was interested to see how well she would take to using her darkmetal glove to fend off lightsaber strikes. Deactivating the weapon, he offered it back to her. "Very similar to using a lightsaber to ward off lightning--and considerably more useful--is to use it to deflect incoming blaster fire. Retrieve your rifle and open fire upon me, and I will demonstrate. We will then switch roles. You have already proven yourself adept at lightsaber combat, and once you are proven in this style of combat, we shall set aside our weapons for a time and move on."

The Sith Master nodded. As before, Zutia controlled her pain well. Now, even though her muscles twitched and spasmed with the lingering electricity, she controlled herself. Even as she was no doubt asking herself questions about just what he was, she remained focused on the lesson that she knew she could learn. Even though her body was tired and her nerves alight as with fire, she had returned to a combat stance wishing to be taught something new. "I commend your discipline," he praised her. "The Sith were unwise to send you away so quickly; they could have learned much from your restraint and focus." Without pause he continued on to answer her question. "The Force lightning can be deflected by a steady hand and a lightsaber blade. Barring that, only very advanced techniques enable it to be resisted, so you are best off obstructing its path through positioning or telekinesis. I will attack with the technique again, and you will foresee its trajectory and intercept it upon your blade." Haphaestus followed words with action, taking a step away from Zutia and letting loose a sustained stream of Force lightning. Back in the days when he had been training with Nurgle and Dominus, the technique had been his forte. Nurgle had imbued lightsaber crystals with Force lightning and gifted Haphaestus with them to empower his use further. Since then Haphaestus had found he preferred not to rely on any one technique, particularly one that could be countered with only a lightsaber. Still, his familarity with it made his application rather potent. Zutia would find that the kinetic force behind the blast would be more difficult than its anticipation. With all that she had accomplished in so short a time, however, he had no doubt that she was the equal of any trial he could throw her way.

She controlled her reactions well, Haphaestus noted. It was remarkable how far she had come with the Force in the short time he had been teaching her, and it reflected her natural proclivity to wield the dark side and her warrior's spirit. She had taken to lightsaber combat like a Beldon took to biospheric plankton, and her ambition elevated her talents rapidly now that she knew how to direct them. It would not be long until she would be ready to face the galaxy again and experience it with new senses and purpose. Presently, the Sith Master felt the pressure of the Force close around his neck, and it was clear that he injury he had allowed himself to sustain had not shed sufficient light on what he was. He drew no breath and thus could not be strangled, and he called on the Force to root his body in place, resisting the downward pull that would otherwise have had the strength to put him on his knees despite the strength of his craftsmanship. The dark side of the Force rushed around the room, their garments fluttering in the pressures at work, the energies audible as a deep rumble and so powerful they could almost be visible. There they paused for a moment, paralyzed in the contest of wills. Finally Haphaestus broke the lock by channeling his focus and pain into a blast of Force lightning, which leapt the distance between Master and apprentice in an instant. The expenditure, however, did cause Haphaestus to lose his footing and, even as the blast connected, he dropped to one knee. Zutia, thrown off her feet entirely, probably wouldn't fare quite as well, but even a focused lightning blast was unlikely to do any permanent damage. "Use your pain. It grants both power and understanding," he said. His voice sounded a little strained. " You can renew your attack or interpret the vision that the artifact of Rivan granted you; master secrets of the dark side or conquer civilizations; destroy the Jedi or the Sith."

Sufficient, perhaps, Haphaestus decided. Zutia still hadn't made use of all of her resources, but she had weathered the assault by drawing on the Force to bolster her defenses. Her counterattack following the application of telekinesis was similarly controlled. The Sith Master's mechanical mind had the time to consider his options in the face of the well-executed attack and plot multiple responses to it. An appropriate repositioning or a rapid parry could take advantage of Zutia's lack of reach, and there were a number of options that would enable him to make a rapid counterattack that would be difficult for her to deflect. But he was not looking for an opportunity to win this fight, and he seized instead a teacher's opportunity to both demonstrate a lesson and reveal something about himself. And so he let the blade pass into his shoulder, penetrating his robe, the layer of bluish flesh beneath, then the mechanical chassis and dip into the wiring beneath. He made sure that he didn't lose power to the motors that actually enabled him to move his limb, but did note that he lost access to a cluster of surface sensors that were a droid's equivalent of being able to feel. It was an odd sensation when coupled with Haphaestus' unique architecture, since his organic skin also contained nerves which enabled him to feel the constructive sensation of pain.... A sensation that accompanied the wound Zutia had dealt him, which was accompanied with a flash of sparks before he changed posture, causing the skin to pinch shut and insulate the circuitry as he counterattacked. "Pain is a powerful catalyst for the dark side," he said as he battered away her defenses with a direct application of inorganic strength. "If you sustain wounds in combat, you must learn to focus your pain into emotion, and then power." He lashed out with a Force push but deliberately missed her. The telekinetic spear was so powerful that as it struck the stone wall the room seemed to shake and the stone splintered.

Haphaestus noticed immediately when Zutia found her rhythm and opened herself up to embrace the moment. She suddenly realized that he had been telling the truth when he declared he had no intention of harming her, and that let her fight without that constant worry nagging at her that a mistake could cost her life. This was a very good realization for her form, he noted, and her attacks became more frequent and varied as she experimented with the capabilities of a lightsaber. She was learning tremendously quickly, proving that her warrior's instinct could be applied to other art forms than just marksmanship. When she improvised and rolled her blade off a block and towards his knee, he was impressed--she had actually caught him out of position. But with a telekinetic nudge he used the Force to drive her lightsaber down and clear of his leg, then took a half-jump back to put several feet between them. "You are learning well, but lightsaber combat involves much more than lightsabers," he said. "You will find the dark side flows easily in combat, and even that is not your only advantage." Before he gave her another moment to consider, he advanced and attacked again. This time he gave a wide variety of attacks in rapid succession, striking from different sides in an attempt to get her to either open up to the Force and allow precognition to guide her movements or to find another way to deflect or evade them all.

With only the faintest of movements Haphaestus pushed her blade aside just enough that it passed over his shoulder instead of through his neck, allowing himself to give a step and giving Zutia the nonverbal cue to take the offensive. When she did so, he made an effort to make textbook parries for each of her attacks while slowly yielding ground. Each parry was the minimum amount of movement required from his blade so that each of her attacks came close to his body without ever striking it. Once or twice he allowed her blade past him without a parry, instead letting his step back bring him momentarily out of range. "Be mindful of your footwork," he said, blocking her latest swing and letting the blades tangle, smoking and hissing for a moment. "Observe me." He was holding a fencer's stance, feet shoulder-width apart, his leading foot pointing forward and his back foot sideways. He took a sudden step, leading with his forward foot and then bringing the rear one back up into place. Then he started to slowly circle, placing his feet very deliberately so that if Zutia were to suddenly attack, he would never be flat-footed and unable to fall back a step. Suddenly, he beat her blade--a strike against the lightsaber itself designed to knock it aside, then advanced and attacked her directly. It was possible that she would be fast enough to parry, but the correct move was to give a step and negate the tactic altogether. As her instructor, it was important that these lessons felt dangerous enough that she learned how to train her instinctual reactions, but Haphaestus had a droid's control and could halt his lightsaber blade a centimeter from her skin if she ever missed a parry.

Haphaestus would have smiled had he a proper mouth. He wouldn't exactly have said that the Alcazarins were reviled by the Sith, but it was certainly true that their ways were far from embraced by the larger Order. Indeed, during Haphaestus' tenure as Dark Lord of the Sith, he had set into motion many plans that, if they had concluded, would have changed the face of the Sith Order while casting down its enemies. And yet the Order at large was either unwilling or unable to look far enough into the future to see the inevitable conclusion of his plans and the vast power that it would bring them. Instead they had continued to stab each other in the back, and Quietus had proven once and for all that the Sith were not ready for a leader with Haphaestus' vision. That did not mean that they could not change, however. It was quite possible that it was not through the mantle of leadership that the Order would eventually transform. Zutia Lavell could be the agent of the fulfillment of Rivan's vision. Haphaestus did not foresee it being long before the ancient Dark Lord revealed himself to her personally, through means more directly than the vision his artifact had granted her, its meaning still unclear even to Haphaestus' practiced mind. As an Alcazarin, Zutia would also be entitled to the benefits of being more than just a Sith apprentice. "Then let us proceed according to Rivan's design," he said. His tone changed somewhat away from the imperious and authoritative tones he typically employed in her presence, becoming instead almost conversational. "Since you arrived, I have sought to maintain in you a fear of me. Hatred makes you strong, after all. But you have proven that fear is not what allows you to access the dark side most easily. You have nothing left to fear from me, Zutia. "Now, let us explore the art of lightsaber combat." So saying, Haphaestus discarded his darkstaff and drew a single lightsaber from beneath his robes, one very similar what he had created for his apprentice. "Observe my forms for now and pick up what you can. I will explain the specifics as needed." He dropped into a combat stance and moved swiftly forward, crossing blades with her. She would quickly find that he was very strong, and she would need to soon adapt accordingly.

Haphaestus watched Zutia try out both the crafts. Ultimately, she would need to create her own lightsaber--as well-crafted as the one he had created was, only a weapon wrought with her own hands could be bound to her spiritually so that she and the blade became tempered together as one. She seemed equally impressed with the craftsmanship of the gauntlet, and it was almost with wonder that she tested its fit and flexibility. The great craftsman derived pleasure from the approval of the one who would trust themselves to his creation, no matter how aloof a Sith Master oft pretended to be. From her questions, it seemed time to introduce her to where she was, and just who her Master happened to be. "Darth Rivan is the creator of this fortress," he began. "He resided here in the flesh approximately fifteen hundred years ago, and even since has bound his spirit to this realm using this place as an anchor. "I did not always dwell here alone. Myself and others--where they are now I know not, though we are nothing if not persistent--have bound ourselves to each other in a sect called the Alcazarins. Ever since the inception of the Sith Order, it has preyed upon itself. Never, it seems, can Sith gather without spilling each others' blood. Rivan realized the truth: that this tendency is the critical flaw that has kept the Order from vanquishing its enemies for millenia. When Darth Dominus discovered this place and those teachings, he embraced them and founded the Alcazarins." Haphaestus' eyes seemed to burn from behind his mask. "I am the first true progeny of this sect; not a true Sith, perhaps, but something stronger." The fire seemed to fade. "The metal is unique to this place, malleable to the practiced but conventionally indestructible in combat," he continued. "In the heart of this fortress is the forge, and from there darkmetal can be extracted and shaped. Its craft is my art, but in time you too may learn its secrets." The weight of his stare became heavy upon her, intentional. "You, now, are the worthy heir to Rivan's teachings, if you are willing to accept them. It is a commitment beyond apprenticeship, but it is a vision of kinship which the Sith sorely lack. Give of yourself freely to this ideal, and I will show you things you thought impossible."

Haphaestus gazed into Zutia's eyes intently while she struggled to put her vision into words, and he approached her, his cloaked form soon looming above her relatively diminutive 162 cm frame. "The Jedi Temple was there," he supplied, his voice suggesting recollection, "and the deaths of the innocents spread chaos through the Force." He paused. "I know not the purpose of your experience, whether portent or echo. But Darth Rivan's artifacts do not bestow such visions upon the unworthy. Only through the refinement of your power will the significance of these shadows be made clear. "And to that end, I have brought you gifts," he continued. The Sith Master then produced the two pieces of equipment he had wrought from darkmetal in the Eternal Forge. The first was a lightsaber, black and silver, forged with the Force to be seamless, elegant beyond its function. The hilt was balanced according to Zutia's dimensions, from the width of her stance to the length of her arm and the shape of her palm. But the other gift was even greater craft. It was a gauntlet of pure darkmetal. It would fit over Zutia's sword hand and proceed to her elbow. The gauntlet was intricately detailed and articulated, attractive to the eye but exquisitely functional. She would find it comfortable to wear, and it would not restrict the motion of her arm, wrist, or hand. It was thin enough to not be too heavy, and yet made of the incredibly durable darkmetal, it would be strong enough to survive blasterfire and lightsaber strikes. It was, simply put, an advantage. "You have learned to draw upon the Force like a Sith," he said. "But to truly focus your mind, you must learn to fight like a Sith."

Haphaestus stood. Zutia's encounter with the Sith artifact was coming to a close, and now it was time to resume her training in proper. He began to make his way toward the front of the Temple, feeling something rather peculiar in the Force surrounding her location. The former Dark Lord was not especially wary--Rivan's artifacts, mysterious in origin and purpose as they were, were rarely harmful. Even now his spirit lingered in this place, and in Zutia he had a promising heir, another being to carry on his teachings and thus prolong his influence in the galaxy. Haphaestus highly doubted that the ancient SIth would allow her to come to harm, least of all in this place. And yet Haphaestus was most interested in learning the extent of her experience with the orb and what lessons she had taken away from it. He suspected that the artifact was akin to a holocron, and that the vision she had experienced had instructive purposes. The moral she took from this story could define her in ways that Haphaestus' teachings had not. Soon he approached the chamber where she dwelt, but he remained wordless as he neared, for the moment only observing.

((My apologies again for the delay before and brevity of this post. This has been the busiest week I've had in months.)) A picture began to grow in Hapahestus' mind as Zutia experienced the potent Force vision. It was so strong it was as though she was living it, and as he pressed his mind against hers and Rivan's relic, he began to become engulfed within it. There was quite a lot of destruction, and Zutia was now terrified by the prospect of her destruction at the hands of a turbolaser bombardment. The question was... had she truly mastered her fear? Could she command her fate in this vision, or was the Force choosing to show her her ultimate powerlessness? For even the greatest wielder of the Force could not defy it.

Haphaestus meditated. He was surprised by the potency of the artifact, and impressed that Zutia seemed to have found a way to activate it. As she was drawn into her dream world, his mind seemed to drift after her.... ((Don't stop now. ))

Haphaestus worked quickly. His first creation seemed to form itself in the air, wrought into being by the Force and the strong and complex mind of a Sith Master unlike any other. Made of darkmetal, it was almost impervious to damage. It was made to fit exacting specifications based on Haphaestus' observations, which intrinsically had more detail than a lesser, organic mind could appraise. The custom fit would enhance its purpose. Without pause he set it aside and began work on a second creation. For this one, he reached deep into the fires of the Writhing Pit in search for a very particular element. Though rare, the considerable pressure and tremendous heat of the magma created rather unique gems, almost like diamonds but formed of Almasian elements rather than pure carbon. He fished around in the molten darkmetal for perhaps several minutes with the Force, knowing by feel what he sought. Eventually, one shard answered his call. Withdrawing the firey red gem from the depths, Haphaestus took it over to a workbench and, with the tools he had collected, began to machine it into a very precise shape. This task completed, he gathered a handful of high-quality components--most of which he had created himself in his infinite spare time before Zutia's arrival--and combined them precisely with more newly-cooled darkmetal. The gem fit snugly inside as Haphaestus replicated one of his earliest endeavors in metallurgy and created a lightsaber. Now the Sith Master sat with both of his creations and meditated, turning his focus on Zutia to see how she was using her downtime. It seemed that she was, on some level, communing with the sphere she had been lifting earlier. He was most curious to see how it reacted to her and what she found out about it.

Haphaestus first went to the meditation room and retrieved a few items he could use to benefit Zutia's instruction. As soon as he had, he doubled back and headed for The Door. As he approached it he pressed his mind against it and it let him pass, closing in his wake. Soon he was descending to the Eternal Forge, his Inner Sanctum if not Rivan's. The heat level rose rapidly as he descended toward the roots of the great volcano near which the Temple had been erected. As the heat rose, his connection to the Force heightened as he fed upon the energy that was thick in the air, drawing life through his flesh. It was a purely Alcazarin technique, one that he had derived from Darth Dominus during his creator's godhood. Though Dominus had disappeared long ago, Haphaestus respected strongly the man's philosophy and intended for it to find its way into Zutia. The woman had shown strong promise so far, and had already overcome her fear. Soon, she would realize how much the Sith limited themselves, how they let their hate and ambition cripple them. Oni's presence seemed strongest here, but it was diffuse even to the former Dark Lord's augmented senses. It was possible that the man would not choose to show himself. Haphaestus determined that he would let Oni make the first move if he chose, and so went to the Forge. Rising from the molten depths of the Writhing Pit was a mass of liquid darkmetal, and in a moment Haphaestus began to coax it into a shape of his choosing....

She almost finished the task, but stopped just short. Haphaestus would rather have her complete it on her own, but the damage that could be caused by performing the operation without the proper knowledge was a non-trivial concern. He hadn't known whether Zutia had sufficient medical knowledge or experience to successfully set a dislocated elbow, and he supposed he would rather her acknowledge her limitations than attempt something that she simply couldn't do. The dark side did many things, but it did not instill medical knowledge, and healing was not a Sith technique. Haphaestus approached Zutia and knelt beside her still-crumpled form. He put his own gloved hands on her arm, one above and one below the elbow. His own knowledge was complete, and Zutia had learned the lesson he had hoped to teach her. She had overcome her pain and experienced mental clarity through it. With inhuman steadiness and mechanical precision, he relocated the elbow. There was perhaps a moment where she could feel, faintly, the vibration of the servomotors beneath his very organic skin and the gloves over it. He returned to standing. "You are weary and your body needs time to recover," he observed. "Take some time to tend to yourself. You will find proper facilities within the Temple, whether it is food, rest, or bacta that you require. Reflect on what you have learned, practice if you desire. You are dismissed." Although Haphaestus had no use for any of those things, he wasn't always the Temple's sole occupant. It did mean he could not vouch for the quality of the meals Zutia might be able to locate. At any rate, he could feel a very particular presence in the Force, and he sensed that one of those other occupants might just have turned up again. The former Dark Lord entered the Temple and began to descend to the place where he could feel Darth Oni stirring.

Zutia surprised Haphaestus again by her willingness to throw herself off the top of the Temple without even hesitation. She seemed to be riding her elation at discovering the power that she had. As her body plummeted to the cracked Almas dust, he wondered briefly at her sanity and decided he was definitely not going to catch her. Some lessons needed to be learned the hard way... and to experience one's limitations was an important check. To her credit, she managed to survive the landing. Her new reinforced prosthetics in her legs held up nicely--if something had broken in her legs, it would have been her femurs--but she also took some of the impact on her arms and they weren't as tough. Pain radiated off her in the Force and she cried out as she experienced the truth of the lesson. Haphaestus stood still and made no move to help her. "Good, now embrace the pain," he commanded her, verbally as well as practically forcing the words into her mind with the Force. "Examine it until you no longer recognize it. Become it. Draw on it, then relocate your own bones." Pain was one of the most powerful tools of a dark sider. Combined with her tremendous will to survive and overcome, she didn't need him at all to defeat this most recent challenge.

Haphaestus made no move to assist Zutia as she struggled to replicate his feat. He wouldn't actually let her die if it came down to it, but it was better that she not know that. As she clung to the edge of the Temple outcropping, he let her fear for her life and then overcome that fear on her own. She was quickly proving what she had seemed to grasp early in their first training session--she wouldn't use fear as a way to draw on the dark side, but her own strength of will. He was satisfied with that. Eventually, most dark siders lost their sense of fear when they believed themselves sufficiently powerful to overcome any challenge. Perhaps it wasn't quite ideal to cut oneself off from such a potent emotion, but it had served enough powerful men well enough to be proven not a critical loss. The Sith Master remained motionless until Zutia leapt the remaining distance to where he was standing. She was performing well. Her past frought with peril and her survivor's instinct made her a natural at grasping what it meant to let her willpower overcome her body's limitations. Before, all she'd had to work with was her natural adrenaline. Now, she had the Force. "You are learning quickly," he said. "But do you trust your new abilities?" So saying, Haphaestus suddenly leapt from the summit of the Temple and plummeted towards the ground. Before he landed, he summoned the Force about himself to control his descent and landed almost lightly on one knee. He stood and looked up at her expectantly. This would be a much more difficult challenge. She had fought a moment before against her fear of falling from a much lesser height. Now he was asking her to willingly leap and fall far enough that the impact would undoubtedly be fatal unless she was able to call on the power of the Force to save herself. Haphaestus mentally prepared himself to catch her if she failed. Maybe let her break her legs again as an object lesson. To leap and to fail would show a complete mastery of her fear. It might even be better than if she succeeded right away. The only way she could fail is by refusing to leap. He was most interested to see the result.

((I liked it. )) Haphaestus gazed at Zutia silently as she struggled. Eventually she triumphed in lifting both objects simultaneously. "Well done," he commended her. She would need to learn quickly if she was going to get a chance at higher dark side powers. For now, though, he needed to guide her to discovering different parts of the Force, to see just what it could do for her. "You may set the objects down. Follow me." They would need a little bit of space for this next mind-expanding exercise. The former Dark Lord strode back toward the massive Temple doors. They passed through a hallway to get there, and several other doors lined the hallway. One of them seemed to have no handle or control pad, and yet was practically soaked in dark side energy. Haphaestus ignored it and proceeded to the front doors, throwing them open with a seemingly effortless mental push. "The Force can enhance your body and your physical abilities so that they are much greater than your limited biological capabilities." Haphaestus walked directly away from the Temple of Rivan for perhaps fifteen meters, then turned around. There were a few uneven features on the Temple face, which for the most part looked like a bland lump of stone protruding up from the barren Almas landscape. He selected one and suddenly leapt the entire distance to it and landed upon it, a stunning thirty-meter leap. He then proceeded to jump a second time, and suddenly he was on top of the Temple. "You must learn to free your mind," he said, his voice sounding conversational and yet inexplicably loud enough to be heard clearly despite the sudden distance between them.

Haphaestus gazed unmoving at his apprentice--Zutia Lavell, as she had said her name was--as she struggled to make the sphere rise. He said nothing as she attempted to harness her latent power through a variety of emotion. Embracing her fear gave her a start, but it was her surprisingly deep-rooted aggression that prevailed. There was a darkness deep within this one, and it was more firmly rooted than he would have guessed by looking at her. His initial read of her was that she was a hunter, which seemed correct, but while most hunters would pursue their profession to support themselves financially or perhaps for sport, from it she also derived the pleasure that came from the satiation of bloodlust. He had questioned at first what had drawn her to seek out the Sith instead of the Jedi or perhaps some gray order, but now he understood; only a wielder of the dark side could this one be. By developing her powers, he would transform her prey from beasts to men and governments. Presently the artifact hovered under her power. "You are now in control," Haphaestus stated. "This power is within you and around us. Feel it flow through you, know what it means to bend the universe to your will. Everything you know from your life so far, every natural law and self-evident truth, is undone. "Do not yield your control. Focus, and move the sphere towards yourself. Such crude laws as mass are meaningless to the dark side. The only thing you must vanquish is yourself," he continued. He called to his hand Zutia's blaster rifle from where it had been laying. With a thought he corrected the damage it had sustained during her battle with the dark side dragon. "Also lift the rifle from my hands. Manipulating two objects is no more difficult than one, if your focus is sufficiently refined."

With another taste of what the dark side could do, the woman seemed quite fascinated. Haphaestus stepped behind her and removed her bindings. "The dark side is a pathway to many abilities," he answered. "In time, the truth of my abilities may become known to you. But first, you must learn control." The truth was, Haphaestus was a rather unique organism. He was especially adept with machinery because of his nature, his perfect memory and extensive knowledge banks on such very systems as his apprentice had in need of repair. He had excellent control, of course, and a tremendous amount was required for such detailed work with the Force, but for him it was knowing how to configure everything correctly that enabled such on-the-fly repairs. He was uncertain that a mere human could attain that level of prowess... but then, humans had surprised him before. He gestured for her to follow him on her new legs and headed over to the next room. The items he had confiscated from her were in a pile on the floor, if she wanted them back. But his focus was on the pedestel in the center of the room. On it sat a darkmetal sphere about the size of a human head. Haphaestus had no idea what the purpose of the sphere was, and had intended to commune with Rivan one of these days to find out. But all he knew now was that it resonated on some level with the dark side. It was also rather heavy. "Command the sphere to rise," he said. "When I provoked you to anger, the dark side answered. It was like a current flowing through your body. You must learn to harness that power on command. At first, you will need to draw on stronger emotions. Soon, you will be able to do it simply by hardening you will. The Force will obey your demands when you learn to speak to it. "As you have yet to share your name, speak it, and command the sphere to move from the pedestel. Your voice, too, may help to focus your command." There were entire Force-using sects who used their voices to help focus their power. Haphaestus had more or less recently encountered a witch named Qaela who had done such. Ultimately she divorced herself from needing to use her voice, but the usefulness of the technique could help a student, if Haphaestus' theory was correct.

Haphaestus experienced the emotion that most would display as a slow smile. She feared him and lusted for the power he could teach her. It was a good start. It would be a long journey to get her to the place she needed to end up, especially if she was going to become an Alcazarin instead of merely a Sith. But by establishing this starting point, it would be so much more meaningful when they got there. She was taking her first steps down a path that would completely transform her and just might have repercussions upon Haphaestus himself. As he lowered his staff he noticed her pained glance at her legs and considered what to do. It could be a long and painful lesson for her if he decided to leave them as they were. But he decided it would suit the rest of his purposes better to restore them. "I am Haphaestus," he said. "And I am quite unlike any other being in the galaxy." He reached out with the Force and focused on her damaged prosthetics. If there was anything Haphaestus did exceptionally well, it was smithing. With the Force he had rebuilt his own body from scratched, formed armor and weapons from darkmetal, and performed countless related feats. Much as evidenced in the creation of lightsabers, the Force could bind and reforge materials as though they had never been separate. A lightsaber was a single piece, seamless, not apparently crafted by any machine, more whole. A work of art. Now Zutia's lower legs popped and snapped as they came back together, and in 12.344 seconds, they were completely restored. Indeed, they would be even stronger than they had been before.

Perfect, Haphaestus thought as his apprentice gave herself to her fear and anger. She had transitioned seamlessly from being inquisitive and trying to navigate her way through a potentially perilous conversation to acting on pure survival instinct in the span of an instant. And then, in that moment, the Force had come to her. She had suddenly and quite forcefully grabbed hold of him and slammed him into the wall beside her, and now he felt her teeth sinking into the flesh that sheathed his ultimately-mechanical wrist. The pain was very real for him--a gift of his flesh--but his actual systems had sustained no damage and were very unlikely to considering what this woman had at her disposal. He was much more durable than this fragile human. He stretched out and called the dark side to him, preparing himself to fend off any further telekinetic attacks the woman might be able to muster. With a sudden but precise motion, he attempted to extract his wrist from her mouth without taking any of her teeth with it. Humans, poorly optimized as they were, couldn't regrow those. Then he took a step back again and brought his staff between their bodies. He was prepared to defend himself further, but he wouldn't strike her again. It was time to see if she could bring herself back out of the state she had entered. "That is what it means to draw on the dark side. Fear not; I shall not kill you," he said. Probably, was his unspoken addition. He had actually killed one of his apprentices before for a particularly important lesson. But Phillep had been a Sith, and this woman would become more. "I can teach you to harness this power. Or you can leave and I shall throw you back to the Sith. Perhaps you would rather die here."

Her ambition was small for Haphaestus' taste, but large for one uninitiated. "The Galactic Alliance is insignificant," he said. "Before it, there was the New Republic and the Galactic Empire; before the New Republic was the Rebel Alliance, before either was the Republic. During the Republic there were Sith Empires and great tracts of galaxy controlled by Mandalorians. Even before the Republic there was the Infinite Empire, and the Rakata were not the first to know what it meant to rule. This place I reside in has predated the Galactic Alliance by millennia, and it will still be here when that social construct is remembered no more. If you wish to know what real power is, your ambition to overthrow this era's government is quite small... but it is a starting place." The more important part was the subtext, her underlying will to destroy, to rip out what was wrong with the galaxy and cleanse its iniquities. That he could work with. His glowing eyes seemed to flare deviously at her. "As for fear," he began, "you cannot know power until you know fear. Then, when you have become it, you will learn how useful it is. "It is time for you to learn how to draw on the Force. It is strong in this place. It is hot, it burns in your blood. It is hate, it is pain, tempered by your will and focused on a goal. You will use it to attack me." Without warning, he suddenly brought his darkstaff whirling around in a lightning-fast strike to smash her uninjured prosthetic leg into pieces. A painful way to learn, but if she could hate him enough and embrace her pain in that moment, the gateway would be opened. As soon as his first strike ended, he struck a second time, deliberately missing her head by centimeters. The stone wall cracked under the tremendous strength of his blow and the unyielding hardness of his staff and the room seemed to shake.