Dubrillion

[Delta73]

Delta paused, she seemed to be confessing a horrid sin of sleeping with her Sith Lord. She was bearing her soul to him about this matter, and Delta was very concerned. He was glad she was telling him, but it was not like he didn't expect it, Lord Ar-Pharazon was a horrid man. No doubt he would have taken it by force if Qaela had not given in to her desire for power.

 

It seemed to be her usual state, always wanting power, but Delta could look past that. She had come to him to apologize for her actions, and that action touched him more than anything that she had done beforehand. Yet now she expressed a desire to die in battle? Why? Because she had given in to her want for power. Delta loved her more than anything, no matter what she had done to him.

 

He knelt by her, and took her hand.

 

”œKnow this my dear, your life means more to me than anything, I beg you not to throw your life away needlessly. If you were to die, who would raise your children? Me? What if I guided them in a different path? No my lady, you cannot give up hope. We will find a way.”

[Qaela]

It was all wrong. He wasn't supposed to try to help her or to care at all for her safety. He was supposed to hate her and to throw her aside.

 

She had been expecting that and braced for it. Instead, she felt nothing like that from him. Instead, she felt only the strange emotion she had come to recognize as love coming from him. To expect hatred and loathing only to receive love was definitely the opposite of what she had seen in her visions of horror. In those, she had seen him grow angry and disgusted with her. The difference was disorienting.

 

She collapsed down into a chair next to him and remained there while he talked to one of his knights about finding some scholar or something. She had little strength left to keep her up. She had never felt so humiliated or weak before. Things shouldn't be this way, ever. She was not raised to be weak or to let her emotions get the better of her. She was raised to be strong and to make her own future.

 

Why am I like this? she thought. Things were so cloudy, so distorted, so messed up.

 

As the moments went on without the expected outburst of anger from Ca'Aran, Qaela began to doubt the veracity of the dire vision she had seen deep in that dark cave in the bottom of a dank swamp on a desolate planet. She had fully expected him to reject her, but he hadn't. If she couldn't trust in the darkness of that vision, what was to say the rest of them were true?

 

But her mind wasn't done torturing her. He hadn't openly rejected her yet, but that didn't mean he wouldn't. She couldn't trust in her senses, not if they were being distorted as it seemed they were.

 

"Don't you hate me?" she asked softly. "I knew how you view physical intimacy and yet willingly had sex with another. I have betrayed your love for the sake of power. You should hate me, you should cast me aside as I deserve. I am evil and I know it. There is no hope for me and if you do not cast me away, I fear I would only betray you again."

[Delta73]

This is quite a strange woman, to desire my hatred.

 

He did not hate her for her lust, but her desire to be hated was beginning to become disturbing.

 

”œI said that I do not hate you for your actions Qaela, why is it that you so desire my hatred?”

[Qaela]

This was more of what she was expecting.

 

She hadn't given much thought as to raising her children. She didn't plan on being alive long enough to have to do that. It was up to him, though she also feared that Ar-Pharazon might one day come to collect his spawn and hoped Ca'Aran would be able to keep them from the clutches of that vile Sith.

 

"I don't desire your hatred, but I deserve it," she said. Her had was bowed as she was too embarrassed to look directly at the man she was talking to. "You trusted me and I failed. You were the first person who actually cared for me without expecting things in return. You gave without expectations. You risked your life for no gain to yourself. You had your men treat me without making me pay for it. Just last week, you gave me more money than I have ever dreamed of possessing, all without hesitation and simply because I asked for it. You are the first person who has given without demanding that I pay. You are the first male who has said 'no' when I offered myself to him. For some strange reason, you see something in me other than just a weapon or a pawn or an enemy or a target.

 

"Hatred, fear, and disgust is all I have known, Ca'Aran. All of my life, I have either hated my enemies, feared my superiors, or held disgust at the weak. That is how I was raised, that is who I am. You looked past that and gave me a chance to possibly get something more than that, but I betrayed you all for my own desire for power. That desire has cost me everything now, but it is what I deserve.

 

"Everyone uses people. I use people to get what I want, people use me to get what they want. I have decided not to be used anymore and wish to get my revenge against those who have used me for their own ends. It is time for them to pay for my services--willing or not. My mother will feel my wrath when her time comes. The Sith will as well. I was robbed of my revenge against Raynuk and Shadowlord as they have been killed by their own kind, but I shall have my revenge against Ar-Pharazon and the rest of the Sith."

 

She looked up at him and answered his second round of questions, "I won't be raising my children, you will be. I don't think I will be alive for much longer after their births. How you raise them is your business, just don't let them become Jedi or Sith. Raise them as your own if you desire that. If they turn out to be like you, then I will rest easy."

[Delta73]

Delta sighed, ”œYou seem so wanting and willing to go to your death, I respect you for that desire Qaela, but I do not deem it wise.”

[Qaela]

Qaela wasn't sure what to think anymore. It didn't much matter anymore. Many thoughts crossed her mind, but she buried them and focused on his question.

 

She really didn't know exactly how long it would be before she delivered. She didn't suspect it would be long. It was hard to tell with the acceleration she was giving it. It could be a week, it could be three. She doubted it would be as long as a month. She had already been pregnant for a little more than four months.

 

"I do not know how long it will be," she said aloud. "Less than a month, I suspect, but possibly as early as next week. It is hard to tell with the acceleration spell."

 

His willingness to stay with her was clear, even if it was to her death. She couldn't allow that, though. Where she would be going, nobody would likely survive. He needed to live.

 

She was slightly interested in news of a war or a siege or something. Her hopes began to rise when he mentioned that her doom might be soon. If he was going to fight against the Sith, then perhaps she would have a great number of allies and just might actually kill most or all of them before she met her doom. Vengeance might actually be attainable. It was too soon though, she needed to have her babies first so she could heal and recover enough to be at full fighting strength.

 

"Is Black Sun to fight the Sith then?" she asked with a spark of hope.

[Delta73]

Delta lowered his head as he stood, "There will be no vengeance upon the Sith today, for they have called quick for our aid, and as a Vigo, I cannot ignore their desperate summons. If the once mighty Lord Ar Pharazon is there, perhaps you can slip a knife into his treacherous back. But soon we will strike for the Jedi." He considered for a moment, and turned to her again, "Is there anything you can teach me ere we depart? Perhaps some sabre work?"

 

He strode to the obsidian table and grasped a wicked looking handle, "This is the Blade of the man we slew upon Dagobah, I have manipulated it a bit to fit myself...." He gestured to the longer handle, keen for sweeping strikes.

[Qaela]

If Qaela was a little confused before, she was flabbergasted now. Ca'Aran knew she hated the Sith, yet was going to be helping them in battle. Yes, it was against the Jedi whom she had no love for, but right now, she hated them less than she hated the Sith. After all, the Jedi had done nothing directly against her. Her encounter with their Grandmaster had been cordial and he had kept his end of their bargain to the letter, even if she did betray him.

 

Her confusion and surprise would have quickly turned into anger if not for two things. The first was that he did say that if Ar-Pharazon was there, she could kill him. That helped quell a little of her anger, but the other thing he said brought back her sadness. He brought out a lightsaber, one he clearly took while she was focused on her pain back on Dagobah. The sight of it brought back the memories of why she was going to meet him on that fateful day. She had been attacked from behind while seeking out both him and Ar-Pharazon. She had intended on asking the Sith Master about his research on the ritual they later performed. She had also intended on giving Ca'Aran the lightsaber she had received from Haphaestus since she had known he wanted one. It would have been her way of both apologizing for the fight they had days earlier and a thank you for his help in the fight against Ares. Instead, she was attacked causing that idea pretty much went by the wayside and now he had his own lightsaber.

 

She was still not sure what to do. He seemed to have moved on in the odd, almost naive sort of way he had. Sometimes she enjoyed that side of him, but other times it frustrated her because she couldn't understand it.

 

The best she could do now was to at least help prepare him to better be able to protect her children once she was gone. "I can help you, but my ability to move and spar is limited. However, my sister is not so inhibited. We should go collect her so I can teach you both and so that you may have someone to test your skills on. If you do not have training lightsabers, I suggest you find properly balanced training rods. We will also need plenty of remote drones that can fire off stun bolts."

[Delta73]

Delta nodded sternly, he was glad that she could help him. For the skill of the sabre had long alluded him even as he watched his Commanders heft them against droid foes in a war long forgotten. He still marvelled at their grace, the green and blue blades carving elegant swaths through the cold steel droids. Now he could unite both aspects of that war, the clone's innate ability with his rifles and munitions, and the cold elegance of a Jedi's lightsabre.

 

He beckoned to his Knights, "prepare the duelling chamber, and inform the lady's sister of our intentions."

 

With a clunk of heavy armour, and the swish of a bright crimson cape, they were gone, to prepare the way of their Lord Commander. Delta meanwhile rushed to his footlocker and withdrew a handful of remotes, that were nestled between a miniature concussion missile, and spilled bag of jelly candies.

[Qaela]

As Ca'Aran was collecting his remotes, Qaela pushed aside her sadness. She would not let emotions rule her. Besides, she couldn't stay angry at him for long. He didn't do anything wrong, she was the one who was at fault.

 

As he was getting the remotes, she forced a quick smile and said in a coy voice, "You may want to get out of that bloody uniform before we begin. It can't be very comfortable. I can help you if you would like."

[Smash Daisaku]

Smash Daisaku looked over a number of exotic and expensive items on his desk. Each now golden article was stolen or at least paid for by Black Sun operatives with recently money stolen from the Jedi. There was much alchemy-related work to be done. There was money to be obtained. There were CoreSec agents to be forcefully nailed to oak beams. Goods wouldn't steal themselves and turned into gold through bizarre if not downright unholy scientific process. Sometimes it seemed like Black Sun assassins were only interested in killing and maiming police officers instead of focusing on the more subtle elements of crime. What about theft? What of extortion? What about alchemy? Smash understood the thrill of firing a slug thrower into the brain of a judge, but there was more to Black Sun operations than just murder or even drugs.

 

Maybe Prince Daisaku needed a vacation. He had spent a great deal of time and mental energy successfully unlocking the secret of turning lead into gold. He thought to himself. Why stop there? He had also turned basalt into gold. Sand was transformed into gold. Skin became gold. Food too. His scientists had even turned air and water into gold. Test subjects had died, breathing in too much gold, while others drank a hefty amount and perished. Different grades of milk all became gold. Soil became gold. Grass became gold. Animals became gold. A sun had become gold. A son had become gold. Even gold became better gold, which in turn became even greater gold.

 

”œIt's almost my duty to see what else can be turned into gold. I believe it is my right. It's my destiny.”

[Delta73]

Delta coughed awkwardly, and quickly shrugged into his combat jumpsuit which had been recently cleaned from his engagements. "No need my lady, it would not do to have yourself overexerted."

 

He quickly strapped on his bandoleer and sword belt. He grasped his sabre in hand and smiled as the newest member of the team approached. Lieutenant Goering. A tall fit man, filled with much ire, and wroth. It would be good to have him along for the ride.

[Qyrisa]

Qyrisa had spent her time in her temporary personal

chambers enjoying the various pleasures available to her. She had spent time snacking on the wide array of exotic delicasies she was provided. The swarms of males around her all desired her attention, but she had no interest in them sexually. She had instead requested a massage from a particularly handsome human male. He had tried to remove her clothes, but she insisted on a simple shoulder and upper back massage. The endless hours sitting cross legged in a meditation pose honing her skills in the Force had left her sore and she figured she might as well use what was at her disposal. After several minutes she felt herself drift away as the man worked his magical hands.

 

After what felt like hours Qyrisa stirred from her peaceful nap. She felt incredibly refreshed and she knew this would be one of the last times she would feel this way. Qyrisa knew the road ahead of her would be grueling and filled with nearly impossible tasks. Yet she also knew that great power would come from this. Qyrisa suspected that Qaela's intentions were to make her more powerful than any other Nightsister had been. She still felt uncomfortable with the role she would be filling, but she knew with time she would grow into the power.

 

As Qyrisa looked up from her chair she saw two figures walking towards her. She couldn't make out their identities immediately, but as they came closer she recognized them as her sister and Ca'Aran. The man was carrying several training drones and Qyrisa immediately knew what they would be doing, but she waited for Qaela to explain it to her.

[Qaela]

Qaela frowned in disappointment when Ca'Aran refused her offer with a lame excuse. Overexert myself indeed, she thought angrily. She was pregnant, not impotent. He could have done without the insult. Oh yes, you will pay for that in training.

 

She was at least able to enjoy his quick change into a jumpsuit. She coupled that delectable image with that of the suffering she was going to put him through. Of all the things she had learned from her mother, how to make one suffer through training was definitely one of the more potentially useful things. The mere thought of it brought a grin to her face.

 

They were met by yet another of his servants, a tall man who had the air of a warrior about him. Qaela wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing, but didn't much care.

 

When they met up with her sister, Qaela was pleased to see she seemed well relaxed and comfortable. There was never anything wrong with enjoying luxuries when they were presented. As long as one balanced luxury with training and practice so one didn't become soft, it was all good.

 

To her sister, she said, "It seems I have found you someone to advance your training with."

 

The training hall was, as she suspected, opulent and yet functional, just like everything else here. There was plenty of room and plenty of gear and machinery with which to make her dear Ca'Aran suffer. He would come to regret insinuating she was weak. She may have taken many hard blows to her pride in the last few months, but it was not all gone and lover or not, she wouldn't let any male call her weak. She didn't see any training sabers around, so she took that to mean that Ca'Aran was rejecting her advice on that, too. Another mistake.

 

"Well, my dear Ca'Aran," she said in a cold, merciless voice, "it is time to begin. You want to learn the basics of lightsaber combat, that is fine. I shall teach you." She gave Qyrisa a conspiratory look and turned her attention back to Ca'Aran as she pulled her lightsaber off her belt and ignited it.

 

The only warning she gave was a quick, "Defend yourself," before she advanced with a cold fury in her eyes.

[Delta73]

”œWhoah!”

[Smash Daisaku]

Entirely unaware of what was going on around him, the greedy Prince Smash Daisaku suited up with his typical skirmish fixings, slipping on like a sheet. He was on a damned holy crusade. While he still pretended to focus on the comings and goings of Dubrillion, and Delta, and whatever else, the fact was that now all of that would have to be set aside. Gold. I must have more gold. He began thinking about the various tools at his disposal and which new things he would soon have to acquire. A new alembic. Perhaps a mortar and pestle too. He would kill anyone to have it. Anyone. I will absolutely have to get my hands on better astrological texts too. And new retorts. Metallurgy was now more important than even political power. ”œNew primes,”

[AVATAR Kain]

A small shuttle popped out of hyperspace in high orbit, and began descending through the atmosphere to land at a specific location. Kain had recently gotten information on how to contact specific people who might be able to help him more than the tattered remains of the Empire, and he intended to act upon it.

 

Settling down at a large building with a majestic emblem tattooed across the side of it, Kain, now in his new body, disembarked and entered the main lobby. Very cleverly, the building was disguised to be a legitimate business so as to fool local law enforcement, when in fact Kain had it on good authority that the entire company here was a front for a much darker corporation. Thankfully, he had the information to know who to ask for as well.

 

He approached the front desk with an air of confidence, asking for Jacen Onnd. So far, he hadn't detected any scanners, and he still appeared very human. If there were any scanners, chances were he'd be able to wirelessly hack them before they had a chance to make the determination he was a droid, and fool them with false readings. Not that he intended to hide it in the near future, but it would be an interesting card to play when the negotiations went down.

[Sheog the Mad]

A com message arrives for the Vigos of Black Sun, from the Dark Lord of the Sith, which would be directed to Jacen Onnd and Delta73.

[Silas]

The receptionist granted Kain access to the Black Sun facility and provided directions to Jacen's office. She told him that the door would be open and Jacen was waiting.

 

Though perhaps waiting was an incorrect term to use. In reality, Jacen was reclining in his chair and playing with the lighter that had so recently been used to bring forth from the water pipe sitting on his desk the wonderful aroma that now filled the air. After the message he had received from the Dark Lord and the news from Dr. Pang things could only be said to be going Jacen's way.

[AVATAR Kain]

Kain thanked the receptionist and began walking through the large building, musing as the insects buzzed to their work. When he finally came to the office he was directed to, knocking before entering, it was quite obvious that this man, at least, was no insect. He moved towards the desk, not yet sitting himself in front of it.

 

"Mr...Onnd, I presume? Fancy company you have here, I must say. But we both know it is a flimsy front for the largest criminal corporation the galaxy has ever seen, and I have it on good authority you can get me involved. You have access to large sums of money and scientists who can further my needs, and I have a rather unique and potentially valuable skillset that you could put to good use."

 

Kain moved forward, seating himself in front of the desk, mirroring the man's relaxed complexion.

 

"You can call me Kain."

[Qaela]

Qaela was glad that Ca'Aran had at least the trained reflexes to deflect her first, basic attack. She had not been sure how well he could handle a melee weapon as she had never seen him use one and made sure not to fully strike at him.

 

"Yes," she replied in the same cold voice, "we really are going to do this. You want to learn how to fight with a lightsaber, well I shall teach you."

 

Now, though, she wouldn't hold back as much. She had never liked the sword, but she was skilled in it to a reasonable degree. Even without the Force, having been raised primarily in melee weapons, she would have been able to provide the must stronger and, right now at least, more maneuverable warrior in front of her a run for his money. He was undoubtedly far superior to her in ranged weapons, but she was his better at close range.

 

She wanted to close that gap and make him stronger for it.

 

He would need such skills in close range as their fight with the Sith Ares on Dagobah showed. In that battle, Ca'Aran had fared very well while the Sith was at a distance, but once that gap was closed, he was quickly put out of the fight. Had his flame thrower not exploded injuring both himself and his attacker, she had no doubt he would have been cut to pieces before she could have intervened.

 

She had to first break him before she could train him.

 

As a warrior who had long learned how to fight in his own particular style, he would not easily adapt to a different method of fighting. Lightsaber duels with Force users was not a matter of quick strikes or a well placed attack, it was a battle of wits and skill with the Force. It was a matter of how well one could bend the Force to one's will and use it to outmaneuver, outsmart, trick, or even overwhelm one's opponent. Strength, speed, maneuverability, and even physical skill were secondary to mastering of the Force.

 

Qyrisa had been raised knowing the Force, learning from those who used it, and bending it to her will. She did not need to first be broken because she had been broken countless times by their mother. Even then, Qaela would not waste this opportunity to teach her sister a valuable lesson even as she taught Ca'Aran.

 

In her current, rather pregnant state, Qaela would by any physical measure be no match for one as strong, fit, and trained as Ca'Aran. She couldn't rely on her physical body now, she had to rely on the Force, just as Ca'Aran would. He needed to learn that his past training and his strength and all of his skills wouldn't count as much against Force users as they would against everyone else. Yes, he could kill normal soldiers by the dozens with the skills he had now, but alone against a skilled Force user, he would need something else.

 

She could be nice to him, to let him start easy and build up, but she didn't. Not only was he generally skilled enough to handle more than baby steps, but he had just recently insulted her and now she was a woman scorned. After all of her humiliating drama, she would enjoy cutting loose.

 

She gave another glance to Qyrisa to let her know that this wasn't just for Ca'Aran's benefit before she drew upon the Force once more. It strengthened her, gave her energy, and got the blood and adrenaline pumping through her veins. At almost lightning speeds, her mind processed all the preparation spells needed to put her into battle readiness. It was the first time since taking part in the damnable ritual that she had done something like this and it felt good.

 

A few seconds passed and she gave her lover a look that belied none of the warm feelings she harbored for him deep down. She raised her lightsaber into an attack position and charged. For minute, she proceeded to pound away at Ca'Aran with as much speed as she could muster. It was not as easy as it should have been due to the large bulge in her midsection, but the Force was with her adding strength and speed where her body was weak.

 

She didn't harm him for that wasn't her goal yet. Instead, she merely swatted away every move he made. If he tried to defend himself, she knocked his weapon away exposing his body. If he tried to attack, she deflected it to the outside or into the ground. He wasn't a bad fighter by any means, but he wasn't using the Force, and there was something else.

 

She could sense his hesitation. He was holding back, not truly attacking her. Whether it was his unfamiliarity with the weapon, his feelings for her, or concern over her infants she didn't know and it didn't matter. She had wanted him to bring practice weapons, but he choose to ignore her and now he would pay for that.

 

"You are holding back," she growled after a particularly brutal series of attacks. "You cannot do that in battle! If you do, you are dead!" Another exchange and she continued with even more fury in her voice, "You know this, you are a warrior. So that tells me you are either afraid to win or you don't trust that I can protect myself."

 

She didn't let him speak before attacking again. "So is that it? Do you think I am too weak to be worthy of your full effort? My sister knows what would have happened if either of us ever held back in training: we would be brutally beaten and humiliated."

 

With a snarl of disgust, she took a step back from their fight and threw out her free hand to hit him with a blast of Force power sufficient enough to knock him across the room and off his feet. She turned off her lightsaber but kept it in hand.

 

With a cruel grin, she began to manipulate the Force in a far more subtle manner. She wanted to draw out his anger and his emotions. Those would allow him to access the Force with much more ease. She knew he had received a small amount of instruction from Ar-Pharazon regarding how to use the Force and anger, it was time for him to refine that into a weapon more powerful than anything he could normally wield.

 

She knew he cared for her and she could use that sympathy to fuel his anger. "Shall I show you the scars I received for my weakness?" She didn't wait for him to answer before turning around and pulling up her shirt to reveal the myriad of interlaced scars on her back. She let him look for a few long moments before lowering her shirt and turning to face him once again.

 

"Shall I tell you how our Mother beat us? Perhaps a little about the whips, the clubs, or the hard fists that were used to bruise, batter, and break us? Will you force me to resort to such barbarity before you learn your lesson?"

 

He tried to get up but she wasn't finished and sent another telekinetic blow to knock him down again. With the Force, she picked him up and threw him to the left, then the right, and back again. When she was done, she wove a slightly more intricate spell upon him to hold him there until she wanted him unleashed. She glared at him without mercy, without compassion, and without reservation. She wasn't going to look in a mirror, but she was sure that her eyes had changed into the orange and yellow hues that were so often the trait of the Sith.

 

She allowed anger to infiltrate her voice and began gradually raising its volume to match it. "What are you, Ca'Aran? You are a warrior who has the Force, but you reject it. You have a power that can make you so much more, but you deny yourself. Do you think you are simply better than everyone else because you have fancy toys at your beck and call and therefore don't need to use the Force? You have lived a charmed life, Vigo Ca'Aran. You have never wanted for anything and had any weapon or minion or ship that money could buy."

 

Her voice dropped an octave and turned cold once more. "What happens if you are stripped of those things? What if you don't have your fancy flame throwers or slug throwers or explosives or armies? What if you find yourself as you are now, trapped by someone who uses powers that reach beyond mere matter and into your very soul? How will you defend yourself?

 

"How will you protect my children?"

 

Now the tricky part. In their time together, she had come to know him quite well, far better than anyone else she knew. On Coruscant, after killing the arrogant Jedi who dared intrude on Sith territory, she had reached into his mind and purged traumatic memories of his past. When she did that, she did more than just erase things, she studied him. She felt him, tried to figure out what drove him. She didn't completely discover that answer then, but she had a clue and even more, she knew some of what made him tick. She healed his wounds, experienced his anger, received his love and his sympathy, and sensed some of his fears.

 

Now, it was time to put that knowledge to use. She reached out in the Force to him once more and guided his emotions. She wouldn't let him fall into self doubt or despair. She wouldn't let him admit defeat or give up. Those things would only weaken him and set him back. Instead, she fed him anger, fed him that powerful emotion that could give him such great strengths. She directed that anger at whatever was handy: her Mother for what she had done to Qaela and she allowed some of her hatred and disdain for the Sith to flow into him.

 

Most of all, she searched for any resentment or anger he had towards her and magnified it. She refused to let it remain buried or held back for both of their sake's. If he was angry in the least that she had slept with other men, she wanted him to unleash it. If he was angry that she put her children in danger, she wanted it out. If he was angry that she was doing this to him, all the better. Whatever anger he had toward her, she wanted it out in the open and buried no longer.

 

"If you want to get up, make me release you," she challenged. "Draw the Force to you, I know you were told how. I could sense your pathetic attempts to use it when I battered you down. Unleash your anger and hatred and let it give you power. Fight back, prove to me you are not too weak to protect my children. Prove to me that you are able to cast aside your prejudices and embrace the Force for that is the only way you can free yourself."

 

She knew it was risky, she knew it was harsh, and she knew he would never forgive her, but it was the quickest, easiest way she knew to give him what he needed. He was going to war soon, he didn't have the months and years that Qyrisa and she had had. He had the skills, the strength, and the drive to be powerful, but he needed to embrace the Force and all of its strengths without any reservations.

 

Qyrisa had seen their mother angry before, but not in this way. Their mother tortured them through emotionless apathy. Their mother never let her emotions control her but struck only with planned precision.

 

Now her sister would see how strong emotions could allow her to be. The pure, unbridled power that emotions gave anyone was the greatest thing the Sith had ever taught her. It was also the most dangerous. If not controlled, it would overwhelm the user and turn them into a mindless beast. Qaela had fallen victim to this twice before and had suffered for it both times.

 

Now, Ca'Aran would either succumb to the fury and rage or he would control it. She had little doubt that with as much emotions as she was pumping into him, he would eventually break her hold on him. When that time came, it was up to him what emerged. Would it be someone who was able to use yet control his anger, or would it be a mindless beast unable to control himself at all?

 

She was playing with fire and she knew it. If it was the former, she would have success and given him a gift worth more than any lightsaber. If it was the latter, she only hoped she could keep him at bay long enough for her to knock him out or allow him to cool off.

 

Her work was complete, there was nothing more she could do at this moment. It was now time to see what sort of man would emerge from the fire she was creating.

[Qyrisa]

Qyrisa had watched the exchange between her sister and Ca'Aran. She had made no move to intervene, but instead watched how Ca'Aran reacted to Qaela's method teaching. She had never seen her sister this emotional before, but she liked what she was seeing. Emotion was something that was always missing from her life. Teyati was cold and manipulative, but she always kept her emotions hidden and in check. Never had Qyrisa seen Teyati's temper, which had only served to make Qyrisa fear her more. Yet right now Qyrisa was watching Qaela embrace her emotions and use them to fuel her moves. She knew that her sister was walking a fine line. There was a precarious balance that must be maintained at all times. If Qaela repressed her emotions she would never know true power, yet giving into her emotions would turn her into mindless beast. One must be the master of themselves. This is the lesson Qyrisa took away from everything.

 

As the two continued to duel, Qyrisa watched Ca'Aran's movements. He was utilizing a very defensive, reserved style, which Qyrisa knew her sister would easily take advantage of. Qaela was extremely intelligent and could easily put things together. If an opponent showed the slightest bit of hesitation or left themselves exposed in the most minute way Qaela would instantly notice and pounce on her opportunity. Sometimes Qyrisa believed her sister saw things in slow motion. It was as if she was able to stop time and study an opponent or problem from every angle. Of all the duels the sisters had under Teyati's guidance, Qyrisa never found herself the victor. No matter what style she employed her sister knew it's weaknesses. This was just one of many things Qyrisa had to learn before she could become a powerful warrior.

 

The two opponents had reached a pause. Qaela was waiting for Ca'Aran to make his move. It felt like days and Ca'Aran had still not made his move so Qyrisa decided to intervened. She reached out slowly with the Force and focused on Ca'Aran's lightsaber. She muttered a simple spell and watched the hilt fly across the room and into her hand. Ca'Aran had been focusing solely on Qaela and therefore easily relinquished control of his weapon. Qyrisa waited to see if he would challenge her for his weapon or if he would surrender. As Qyrisa stole Ca'Aran's blade she looked over at her sister to gauge her reaction. She hoped that her interference would not anger Qaela.

[Delta73]

His love was surely likely to kill him at this rate, though Delta was somewhat skilled in hand to hand, it was mostly with a vibro-shiv of knife, not a weightless sabre. He struggled immensely to keep up with Qaela, and he hated it. He hated feeling inferior, for he knew that given the appropriate range, he could dominate anyone who dared challenge her blasted children. But he was never good enough for her, she needed to best him in everything, just to prove the superiority of her gender. He did not give a I am Groot about her gender or the gender roles. But apparently she really did. Which didn't much make sense to him, he had come from the Soldier background, and had never been confronted with glass ceilings for his sex. However, she obviously had, and was taking out her life's woes on everyone else. And with her pregnant belly swaying with her sabre blows, she looked much akin to a great raging Rosie O'Donnell.

 

That was enough to make any man scream in fear. Delta batted aside another blow from the overweight Qaela, and sprung back, his heels gouging into the soft padding of the practice mats. He was relatively agile for a man used to wearing heavy armour day in and day out. He hadn't fought hand to hand with a sabre since....Delta considered the question as he continued to dodge back and forth, away from the crimson blade, that would quickly maim and kill. He stayed his returning blows in fear of hurting the poor crazed woman.

 

There is was. His mind cleared for a second, to focus upon himself at a much younger age dancing the blade duo, with a young girl. Her hair was of Auburn, and the freckles upon her brow and cheeks were as a dusting of cinnamon upon a pale cream. Beautiful for her age, and dressed in the green and brown robes of a Jedi Apprentice. He quickly shook his head from the though and brought Qaela back into focus.

 

She was withdrawing for a brief second, and she was speaking, her voice as cold and the everlasting glaciers of Hoth. Colder was her voice than the dying words of Lord Hoth himself. Hatred akin to the manner of Naga Sadow, filled her demeanour.

 

"You are holding back!"

 

She struck again with the power and finesse of the horror Tulak Hord. Her strokes masterful, and deadly. One of the stray blows caught his training tunic and set the shoulder ablaze. Ozone filled his nostrils with an acrid smell, that brought him into the grim reality of her great superiority. Though as great as she was, he knew that even she, the great love of his life, paled in skill compared to the ancients. The Lords and Masters of Old. Tulak Hord, Naga Sadow, Ludo Kressh, Ajunta Pall, Darth Reign, Tarrian the Terror, Darth Heretic, Darth Sadism, or even the last known great Ancient One. Lord Ar-Pharazon himself. The great ancient terrors, who besought the Chaos Gods in time immaterial.

 

Delta dove back in frustration, bringing his blade to bisect hers in a clash of energy and sound. The pushed apart, both flinging backwards to reform for another spout of blows.

 

"You know this, you are a warrior. So that tells me you are either afraid to win or you don't trust that I can protect myself."

He attempted to speak but could not manage the words before she was at his outer defences again. He heart yearned to cry for a stop, to tell her that he only held back out of fear for her own safety, for he did not trust himself. For even the most skilled of defenders could be brought low by an unskilled blow taking at unawares. He fought back viciously, throwing some of his muscle and weight behind the strong blows as he went on the counter attack. Thrusting forward with a foot he brought the blade down in a deep thrust towards her swollen belly. Cursing himself as he did so. He could feel a rush of relief as she easily deflected the blow and went back upon the attack.

 

"So is that it? Do you think I am too weak to be worthy of your full effort? My sister knows what would have happened if either of us ever held back in training: we would be brutally beaten and humiliated."

 

Delta did not have time to care for her sister, as she was already whirling away like a schoolgirl dancing through the spring puddles. But then the unexpected. Though Delta could feel the surge of energy through her hand, he could not interpret it until far too late. He was picked up and tossed like a discarded doll at the closing of a day care. He landed heavily upon his back and winced as his shoulder shouted in agony. He did however, keep full control of his sabre, and had the sense to thumb the blade off as he landed, as not to skewer himself upon the blade as Saul had upon Gilboa.

 

He spat upon the hard ground a metre from the padding that could have cushioned his fall. He cursed and struck the padding with his fist sending a spurt of cushioning high into the air as the pad ruptured from the blow. He leapt to his feet again and thumbed the activation, sending the blade to furrow within the padding. He brought it in a slow circle as she spoke again.

 

"Shall I show you the scars I received for my weakness?"

 

She lifted her shirt and showed the great scars across her back, given to her from her cruel mother. His grip upon the sabre tightened until the knuckles were white, and his face contorted in fury. He strengthened his stance as he brought the sabre in a slow arc, to stop before his steel blue eyes.

 

"Shall I tell you how our Mother beat us? Perhaps a little about the whips, the clubs, or the hard fists that were used to bruise, batter, and break us? Will you force me to resort to such barbarity before you learn your lesson?"

 

The calm face behind the sabre contorted into a silent fury. The reassuring blue eyes slowly began to change colour. Anger long contained began to bubble through the stiff cracks of his ancient armoured shell. An Armour forged in the plights of what could barely be called a childhood. He had killed as the age of seven. He had been trained and beaten, abused to the extreme in the sick system devised by the Mandalorian brutes Skitara and others. He had even killed his own pod brothers when they had led a revolt against the programme. He had been labelled a Null. A nothing, a worthless pile of shit. This sick philosophy had been beaten into him time and time again. Kill or be killed, from the moment he awoke from the artificial womb. No child should endure such an experience. Though everyone he had grown up with had worn his face, he was still a person. No matter what the skinny's had said. No matter how many of his brothers had died, nameless in the sands of a thousand worlds. The light slowly leaving their eyes, covered by the unseeing mask of oppression, in the form of a white helmet of plasteel. Keeping them forever as a formless number, unwanted and unloved by the very beings that had created them. Brothers and kinsmen they had been, though identical in face and form, every one had been unique.

 

If Qaela was looking for a source of anger, she had stumbled across the payload. Her next move brought him to his knees as he struggled against her telekinetic powers. His eyes looked up and for a moment they showed his inner self. A young boy trapped within, in a red tunic, blaster within his small hand. Sobbing over the body of his twin, his fellow clone. Killed in a firefight with the Kaminoans. And at only seven. The boy glanced up, and the anger in his eyes was frightening, the resolved fury of a man without anything else to lose. Resigned to a fate he had never wished nor wanted. And ready to die for whatever cause his cold heart could find hold to. That boy, his face tear streaked, and his tunic bloodstained , looked back to Qaela for an instant, and was gone with Delta's next blink. The tears and fear were gone, replaced by the older and harder face of the familiar man she had known these few months. The blue of his eyes yet again dead and as cold as steel.

 

Her hatred was not yet matched by his own. Cold and distant, yet her next words fell upon him like a storm.

 

"What are you, Ca'Aran? You are a warrior who has the Force, but you reject it. You have a power that can make you so much more, but you deny yourself. Do you think you are simply better than everyone else because you have fancy toys at your beck and call and therefore don't need to use the Force? You have lived a charmed life, Vigo Ca'Aran. You have never wanted for anything and had any weapon or minion or ship that money could buy."

 

His voice caught in his throat before he could utter a foolish saying or denial. For she did not know him if that is what she thought. His mind flashed back to his distant past, to the great Outremer!

 

Old Outremer, the blessed Levant! The horrors of the great Clone Wars embodied upon those desert sands. The blood of his brothers had saturated that horrid planet. Thousands perished in just a few hours of the great sieges. The Jedi generals leading troops over the great ancient walls of the cities. Fighting hand to hand with droids and the separatist Saracens as well. Blood had poured in the evenings, and the sun had shown hot in the noontime. He almost laughed at the thought of those great battles. In the noontide of the Republic's power, before the second darkness had fallen. His jedi generals had starved and died with their men. They had cried together when the republic fleet had been destroyed in the upper atmosphere, he had comforted his general at the death of her friends. The auburn hair Jedi again, her name....Kailen. Sweet Kailen Halcyon. How could he have forgotten about her? What did it matter now? He had killed her too. For she had betrayed the Republic. He had struck her down in her sleep, and he was glad for it.

 

He shook from his stupor again and glanced back up, she was angry with him. For What? Trying to protect her, Just like Kailen had done. They had always put him down, constantly-

 

His brow furrowed in anger. Why was he so angry? A trick? IS that all this was? The anger in his heart boiled back to the surface with a reckless abandon. The anger at his masters, her mother, Kailen, the republic commanders, everyone, it all boiled to the surface in a flash. He knew it was a trick, yet he did not care. It did not matter that his mind was being manipulated, it was of no matter, Kailen had always calmed him, and what had he done? He had killed her. And he would kill this bitch too.

 

He grasped for his sabre and shouted in anger. What folly! Qaela's sister had snatched his victory from his grasp, yet she too would be brought low, all would be decided.

 

He voice struggled against the force bonds as the anger slowly bubbled through the cracks for the second time in several minutes, though he knew that there would be no stopping it this time. How dare she.

 

"K....K.....N.....K....NI........Knights! Bring this fool to agony and pain!"

 

 

In a relative instant, the full knighthood of the Marshal of Bespin was brought to bear. Simone led the way, emerging from the dark shadows, and from within the countless doorways, blasters and disruptors appeared. All focused upon the person foolish enough to interfere with the Vigo's business. Simone marched forth and snatched the lightsabre from Qyrisa's hands. Qaela's sister was staring at three dozen heavily armoured and armed men and women all pointing their disruptors and flechette launchers at her, and her alone. As was Vigo Delta's orders.

 

With a quick snatch, Simone plucked the sabre from Qyrisa's hands and tossed it back to the Vigo. Her voice trembled with an air of haughty superiority. ”œFool! Do not interfere with a duel of fates! You are his guest here, and you would do well to remember that.”

[Qaela]

Qaela had unleashed a sleeping dragon. Even as Delta began to overcome her control and summon forth terrible power, Qaela couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake and underestimated his ability to control himself. She had manipulated him beyond what he would normally be able to do without great trauma and it had broken forth the dam to emotions and anger and even hurt that she had never known existed within him. She had known he was fragile in some ways, but nothing like what he now was displaying. His rage was so very powerful, so potent, and so dangerous to himself and anyone else around him.

 

Even as he cried out for his knights, she kept her focus on him alone. Qyrisa would have to deal with the minions on her own since she was the one who took action. Qaela needed to carefully monitor Delta to see if he would explode and do something that would harm both of them.

 

She kept pouring her hatred and magnifying his own for a few more moments as he writhed on the floor. She knew what he felt like for she had been in the same situation. It was not pleasant and she took no joy in doing this to him.

 

After seeing what she had unleashed, she repented of her earlier, petty desire to make him pay for his slight against her earlier. What she was doing to him was cruel and heartless. Nobody should have to experience what she was doing to her beloved Ca'Aran. Only now, she began to understand perhaps a little of the odd and foreign concept of mercy as she wanted to end the suffering he was experiencing. As much as she knew he needed to face his demons and overpower them, her heart ached for what she was doing to him.

 

Before she could change her mind and end the torment, it took a life of its own. In a loud voice, Delta screamed in a strange tongue she had never heard before. Her storm of rage had taken a life of its own and turned into a hurricane of wrath directed at everything in general and her in particular.

 

He continued to rant in this odd tongue and for the first time since meeting him, Qaela began to fear Ca'Aran. She had never encountered such a thing before and was not sure what was happening. Whatever he was going through, it was overtaking him and consuming him with a wrathful rage she had never imagined him capable of.

 

Just as she feared that he would boil his brain in rage, something happened. He continued to chant in the strange language, but the voice was his once more. It took a moment for her to realize that he was regaining control at last and she began to smile for real.

 

Though she sensed him regaining more control, she failed to sense his growing power until it was too late. He snapped out of her spell with a simple gesture that didn't seem to take any effort. That was followed by him summoning his lightsaber and igniting it.

 

At this point, Qaela would have been forced to admit she was terrified. He wasn't yet calmed down and was very likely to be quite angry at her for doing what she had done. Now, he was free and held a lightsaber while having a strong connection to the Force that she at this moment didn't have.

 

Instead of attacking her, he started carving something into the ground. While he did that, she frantically tried to reverse what she had been doing and calm him down, but she didn't have the time or focus.

 

Before she could do anything, he stripped her influence from his mind in such a crude, blunt way that it caused a small supernova to erupt in her own mind. The pain from that blinded her and caused her to cry out in pain. Then, what felt like a giant fist plastered her and sent her flying. The next thing she knew was pain, great pain from all over her body. She had no defense prepared against his attack because she did not know he could wield the Force with that strength. He was more powerful than she had known and it had cost her dearly.

 

Yet, despite the pain she was experiencing, she was not angry. She was, if anything, proud of him and his power. He had taken in all of the rage and fury, but it had not consumed him. He took control and proved himself stronger than his rage.

 

She half lay on the ground slumped against the far wall with blood flowing from the back of her head and trickling down from an area where she really did not want to be bleeding. The pain in her mind was slowly fading away, but it was being replaced by blackness.

 

She only dimly remembered the armored knights clustering around her for a few moments before medics pushed their way in. She didn't know what happened to Ca'Aran or her sister. Her pain was exquisite and all consuming. At last, blackness overtook her and she collapsed limp in the hands of the medics.

 

* * * * *

 

Three Days Later

 

Qaela stared into the brown eyes of her daughter and sighed in contentment. The little eyes quickly closed like they had been for most of her short life. Gently, Qaela shifted her into a more comfortable position in her arms and looked up at the medical ward ceiling.

 

It had been three days since the duel with Ca'Aran when she had been rushed to the emergency room. The trauma of what happened in that training room had caused her to go into labor and it wasn't a good one. She was unconscious when they brought her in and after considering the options and the likelihood that she had a concussion or even brain damage from hitting her head, the doctors performed a Caesarean section to remove her triplets.

 

She had woken up several hours later and had been most confused until the doctors explained what had happened. She had a daughter and two sons now. All three had dark hair and brown eyes just like their parents. They were healthy though underweight and in need of care for a few weeks. She didn't much mind as long as they were okay. Speeding up the pregnancy had been a calculated risk, one that had angered Ca'Aran, and she was relieved that it hadn't turned out poorly.

 

Though she was slightly disappointed to only have one daughter, she found that she couldn't fail to love her sons as well. It was strange, so very strange for her to hold them and be around them. She had always expected they would be simple tools for her to gain power, but she couldn't bring herself to think of them that way. She had never felt love from her mother, but she definitely felt love for her own children. Qaela hoped that she wouldn't ever become like what her mother was.

 

On the second day, she managed to recover her strength enough to begin healing herself. It took far longer than it should have, but she was making progress in repairing the damage done during the operation. She was able to eat solids and even move around, though her abdomen was tender. At this point, she almost wished she had been a Jedi so she could heal faster and be rid of the constant pain. It seemed that she was always healing herself or someone else and it would be nice to not have the weakness and exhaustion she normally had after using healing spells.

 

She had more cause to be concerned because she hadn't seen Ca'Aran. She knew he wasn't dead, but the doctors wouldn't tell her any more and she feared that he didn't want to see her. Her joy at holding her babies was tempered with the pain of realizing that she very well might have brought her own vision of rejection to fruition by doing that to him.

 

Right now, that didn't much matter. She held her small daughter closely and relaxed in the medical ward. The future would hold what it held and now that the fate of her children weren't directly tied to what happened to her, she felt more confident that she could handle what came her way.

[Delta73]

Delta startled awake with a shout. He gasped for air, and threw the tangled medical sheets from his body, with a quick yank, he removed the leads and lines. He cursed loudly as he oriented himself, then cursed again as a throbbing pain bit into his skull. The crimson painted 2-1B placed a hypo spray against his arm, and in several seconds, the pain was gone.

 

”œLord vigo, you had some haemorrhaging within your frontal lobe. The swelling will go down soon enough, and with it, the pain.”

[Qyrisa]

Several days had passed since the in the training room between Ca'Aran and Qaela. Qyrisa had gotten herself involved in the battle, but was quickly surrounded by guards and forced out of the fight. She had known better than to try and take the gairds and she simply watched the display put on by Ca'Aran. He had touched raw power and it had gotten the better of him. The fight had ended with both her sister and the Black Sun Vigo collapsing and the fight had actually intiated the birth of the children Qyrisa was carrying.

 

The delivery of the children had occured a few days ago and since they had been born Qyrisa spent a lot of time with them. Qaela had been struggling to recover since the children had been born and a part of Qyrisa wondered if she was even trying to hold on. She feared that her sister had no will to live, to hold on. Her sister could survive this, that much Qyrisa knew, but it was a matter of her desire to hold on.

 

Qyrisa was awaiting direction from Qaela and she would not go on until her sister gave her orders. She was still far too untrained to do anything on her own. She needed guidance. She needed to learn, to grow stronger. The slow recovery was beginning to frustrate Qyrisa.

 

I have no time for delay. I must learn to control my powers amd grow stronger! Despite her internal frustrations, Qyrisa showed no outward signs of annoyance.

[Qaela]

Ca'Aran never ceased to bring Qaela amusement and wonder. He was so easy going, so innocent at times that it was hard to watch him. She had unleashed horrible things upon him in a most cruel manner, yet after days of being gone, he came in as though nothing had happened. Even more, he seemed concerned for her.

 

With her daughter still in her free arms, she couldn't help but chuckle as he took her hand in his normal fashion. There was no anger in him. Whatever he had been doing in the last few days, he had clearly allowed his anger to pass and was not dwelling on it. His concern for her was reassuring in a way and it gave her hope.

 

"It is my custom that children are not named until the eighth day," she said. "It is forbidden for a male to name a daughter, but they are able to name sons if the mother allows it. Since you will raise them, I want you to name my sons. Tell nobody until the eighth day."

 

His presence here signaled an end to her rest. There were things that had to be done and it was best that they get done. Whether they would be enjoyable or torture was yet to be seen, but Ca'Aran's reaction so far was a positive sign. She sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed while being careful not to disturb her daughter. "True warriors are able to construct fortifications even during the first stages of labor, then go to battle an hour after giving birth. I have had three days to recover so it is high time that I do something productive."

 

She gently set her daughter into one of the cribs and went over to a drawer next to her bed. She pulled out a small bag that her sister had retrieved from their ship and laid it on the bed. Her voice was a little sad when she continued, "Because of my accelerated pregnancy, I am unable to nurse. The nurses said that it isn't good for development, but there is nothing I can do about it. My children must grow up strong and with the ability to do without. The less dependent they become upon me, the better."

 

She pulled out her commink and dialed in Qyrisa's number. "Sister, I have rested long enough, it is time to return to business. Please come to my room, we will start working on new spells and swordplay."

 

She turned the commlink off a looked at Ca'Aran. "She has been most helpful with the babies, though I don't think your knights like her. I don't think they even like me, but they tolerate me for your sake."

 

The next thing she got out of the bag was her old, pre-pregnancy charcoal robes. Her voice took a hint of playfulness when she spoke again. "I am going to change now. You are most welcome to stay, but I figured you would want the warning." She wanted him to stay, but she didn't expect that he would. Either way, she was going crazy in these light colored hospital gowns that she had been in for three days and needed to get into something darker, heavier, and more familiar. Then, when Qyrisa got here, the three of them could go and start working on improving their skills both with the Force and with lightsabers. Hopefully, this time wouldn't turn out like the last.

[Delta73]

Ca'Aran was very surprised to see Qaela up and about, not that he doubted her abilities, but she had taken an awful beating. But she seemed as cheerful as she ever got, which was sadly not all that cheerful at all. But still with a cooing baby in their arms, who could get all mad and angry? No one except Lord Ar-Pharazon no doubt. Delta smiled and took one of the boys into his arms, he had a tousle of brown hair and smiling brown eyes. Geoffrey. That would be a suitable name. Delta dug into his satchel and removed a small plastic toy, rounded and non-threatening, it was in the shape of a knight of old. In white plastic armour, with a red cross painted upon the kite shield. Delta placed it into the crib for both the boys to enjoy. There were no removable parts or especially pointed object, and wrapped up tight as the two of them were, all they could really do was look at it. A knight to remind them of their adopted father, a lone figurine to replace him if he were to die.

 

Delta grinned and placed the squirming babe back into his crib next to his brother. Balian. Both were old names, with rich heritage. He glanced up to Qaela as she came off the bed, and spoke of her inability to nurse. He spoke in turn. "They will love you none the less, dear Qaela, and do not fret for their development, for I never had a mother to nurse me either....Your sister can feel free to do what she wishes, and yes the knights and bannermen despise her, for not too small a reason." He laughed, his voice echoing joyfully, causing one of the boys to giggle.

 

He gulped a bit of air and bowed, "I will stay if you desire it." And so he sat near one of the cribs, his eyes respectfully downcast.

[Qaela]

Qaela was glad to see how warm Ca'Aran seemed toward her babies. She might not be known as a generally caring and compassionate individual, but she did feel something towards her own children. They were her flesh and blood after all, and she had spent months feeling their presences inside her while meditating. She was glad for another reason, too. Had Ca'Aran not been so kind and interested in them, she would have felt bad about leaving them in his care. She wanted them to be in good hands when she was gone.

 

"Well, if they turn out as you have, then I shall rest easy," she said. She didn't know everything about Ca'Aran's early life. It was an area that she probably should explore more, but she wouldn't pry. He didn't ask for her life story so she wouldn't do the same to him.

 

"As for my sister, she was doing what she thought best. She is young and inexperienced, but she is my sister and the only person other than you I trust. They may not like her, but if they disrespect her, they disrespect me."

 

She left that statement out there and started to change. She was also glad that he had decided to stay instead of waiting outside. It was a step in the right direction as far as she was concerned, even if he didn't seem to enthusiastic about it. She didn't press him, though, she simply changed and got into her comfortable charcoal robes. They were so much better than the hospital gown they had kept her in.

 

It would feel so good to actually be do something after the last few days of being cooped up here. She was still sore, stiff, and exhausted, but she would make do. Allowing weakness to overtake her was not acceptable. She hadn't been lying when she said that warriors were expected to fight even after giving birth. She had more than enough time to recover by those standards.

 

"Okay," she said when she was ready. "My sister should be here soon. I sincerely hope you can find a way to get some practice swords in the training room. What we are going to be doing will be extremely dangerous without them and I wouldn't want to see either of you harm the other."

[Delta73]

Delta smiled at the children as Qaela changed, the children were so innocent, so lovely, it almost made his hear break for their coming lives. He glanced up, slightly shocked at how agile she was able to move, though he knew better than to let it show. He didn't feel like having another beat-down. He stretched beside her, and called out ot one of his knights, Simone.

 

"Do get us a few sabres set on the lowest setting." She nodded and ran off, her light armour and crimson tunic making little noise as she moved. She quickly returned several minutes later, carrying a large cart filled to the brim with sabres seized over the centuries in Black sun operations, all had been set to the lowest 'training' setting.