Kamino

[Sirvani Zsahra]

"Indeed," Sirvani replied softly. "You are a man. You simply need...practice. There is always something new we can learn. It has been a long time since my self-improvement has continued as well, so I understand your sentiments."

 

She half-smiled at his previous statement. "So much like the one who came before you. I must meet her. Both you and him had a weakness for strong women, so I'm sure I will like her."

 

She paused. "As for the boy, I would be pleased to meet him."

 

So much of her speech was false; her words were true, but the emotions and expressions that accompanied them were mere show, a mask to hide behind. There was so much she could hand over to habit, and she did so willingly. It was too much struggle to think, to control her actions. The world was too small and insignificant and cruel for her to care anymore.

[Oblivion]

Inwardly, he expressed a deeper feeler of remorse over the mentioning of John in connection to his most recent passing. Clearly, they were both experiencing the loss in different ways, though perhaps her sympathy ran deeper. It is the gamble with investing ones self in another; the loss of the other can deteriorate and leave them but a shell of who they once were or entirely different then before. Time would reveal which case was her own.

 

"Yes, I do agree. Only recently have I been uncovering some truths of his former babblings. Perhaps he was just mad enough to be right after all,"

 

He leaned heavily on his metallic limps upon the notion of locating the boy. Redressing part of the cloak that had been unraveled, they walked in stride towards the lift.

 

"...This one, this boy, is of your kind, although he will not resemble it entirely at first glance. He is already being tempered to my will, the stronger and dependable type. I hope to see you oversee him in my absence, keeping your wits and not faulting upon the slightest mistake."

 

The pair lingered but a few minutes for the next lift to be prepared for them, chambers entering with their bodies. Keeping his stance, while there were seats available for the slightly lengthy ride, Oblivion fixated his view on the ever darker growing sea that appeared as they sank deeper and deeper down.

 

"We never talked personally much, you and I, have we?... I feel there is much I don't know about you, otherwise it would easier for me to see your pain. I know it is there, even if I can't prove it..."

[Sirvani Zsahra]

She bristled at his use of the word "babbling", but pushed it off. She knew he meant nothing by it, only the slightest disrespect. But everything was so fresh in her mind that it was an instant reaction.

 

She listened as he talked about making the boy more dependable and stronger, and inwardly wondered what he meant. She supposed she'd have to see for herself. Briefly, she wondered why Oblivion kept referring to 'his absence'. She was going to ask him where he was going, but they entered the lift and the moment passed.

 

At his comment about never getting to know each other, she offered a short, bitter, barking laugh. "There is nothing you can do to help me. I'm a lost cause. I suppose I should take the comment that you can't see my pain as a compliment. I learned to hide my feelings well. But I have to admit I'm surprised you can't feel it. It is the essence of my being..."

 

Her voice trailed off. It hurt too much to talk about it, to think about it, that she simply didn't. She had cut off that part of her mind completely, ignoring all the little things that screamed out to her as reminders of his absence. She couldn't even think his name.

 

"As for telling you about myself...I don't know what there is to tell you. I...I almost don't know who I am. Not anymore."

 

It was true. Her identity was in crisis. Her relationship to John had been so much a part of who she was that to have that taken away from her so suddenly was almost crippling. Only by falling back on her training, relying on her instincts, and forcing her self to go along was she finding herself able to live.

[Oblivion]

OOC: Sorry for the delay, RL business.

 

--

 

Admist the display of self-pity, the roles quickly switched from wanting to genuinely ease into a pleasant personal conversation and now to a more focused and stern approach. A Sith Master does not doubt his actions unless there is cause behind such words of doubt. True, she was in a vulneravle, but there was no time to hesitate.

 

His fingers gently pressed against the channels of the lift, stopping them dead in the dark abyss of the ocean; only the ligh which loomed overhead still visible. From head to toe, he basked in it, brows vexed down in a haunting glare.

 

"...You must understand your role entirely in this. I can not leave if you are unfit to take up the simple task of holding your own, no less taking on a new student. I believe the solution is not far from both, though... I can see it clearly now. That pain you've let fade inside needs to manifest in order for you to be truly healed."

 

Breathing slowly in and out, the tight capsule they were locked in began to feel hot, his breath sweltering as it loomed off from his tongue and spread like wild fire. Fingers extended past his side, a darkened aura collected and pooled out by his touch, soaking in the light ever so slowly...

 

"I'll ask this only once. Are you fit to be part of the Sith order as the rank of Master or will you retreat to self pity now that he is dead?... You are strong willed, but these emotions shall only be part of your undoing. Trust in yourself and externalize the pain... or I will..."

[Sirvani Zsahra]

Sirvani felt like crumbling under his presence. She felt like she could not continue like this...but now he was threatening to take away the tiniest bit of identity she had left...

 

Pressure was building up inside her, pressure that had been building since the moment of his death. She couldn't handle it anymore. She couldn't live like this. The pain was simply too much to bear. Suddenly, anger burst through her, untamed. Why did he do this to her? What spell had he put her under, then abandoned her so cruelly? Had he ever really loved her? How could he, if he had gone and done something like this to her?

 

Part of her cried out at this, telling her that she knew he had loved her. That the Force had called him away, and that it was the Force's cruelty, not John's. But the other side was gaining power. The bitter side. The angry side. The dark side.

 

She was a Sith Master. She should never have allowed this to happen in the first place. If she was truly qualified, she would have not fallen under his spell in the first place. Or she could have saved him from dying. Unleashed her power and fury to stop the natural processes going on in his body and forced him to remain alive.

 

The Force was pulsing out of her now, accentuating Oblivion's own powers. She had been shown no mercy, so she would show none. She had failed, and she would not fail again. She had learned her lessons, and was even now learning them from the cruel power that governed the universe. Now she would dominate, and show the galaxy that she was not to be trifled with, and that there was no power like a woman scorned. Her pain was a source of power, not of weakness. She couldn't allow it to hinder her, to hold her back. So she would not.

 

She looked up at Oblivion; her irises were constricted, so that her eyes looked like they were all pupil. "You were right. There is no more self-pity. I am ready. Let me loose. Darth Anathema rises again."

[Torin]

He rolled away from the opening and waited for his master to show signs of approval or displeasure with his performance in the furnace”¦

 

Alone.

 

Torin could not roll over, he could not move, he felt as if his back had melted to the rock hard floor on which he lay. He merely remained on his back with his legs and arms spread away from his body, his hands positioned so that his burnt palms could not touch anything. His new red skin appeared blood red now, and the black tatoos seemed as if they had been branded onto his skin. The bottoms of his feet and the plams of his hands matched the darkness of his tatoos.

 

Where is he... he thought, Did I succeed? Did I fail? Why did he lock me in? All he wanted was for me to walk through the flames. There was no reason for him to lock me in, and now he has dissappeared?

 

Torin's thoughts betrayed him. He had now lost all focus. When before, in the furnace his mind had been consumed by and focused on the force, he was now nothing but a shell. If needed, if his emotions were sparked he could probably summon the Force again, but not with any strength. The boy lay on the ground nearly helpless. As desperate as the situation seemed, Torin knew his master would return soon and things would only grow worse. He could nearly feel Oblivion approaching, and with another presence.

 

Torin clenched his eyes shut and sought comfort in the desolate darkness of his mind. The only place he had ever felt accepted. Shuned by his own people, deserted by his family, and mistreated by his master.

 

"No!" he gasped, the sound barely stretching past his lips, "he does not mistreat me. He sets me free..."

 

He closed his eyes again, but at least he understood. Part of him hated Oblivion for the cruelty the Sith Master had dealt him, but the other part loved the man that introduced him to the ways of the Force and who helped Torin quench his thrist for power. It was loyalty the young boy felt. Loyalty towards his master. Perhaps someday, when he would grow strong enough he would strike down his master, force his master to experience the sweltering heat of hell, but until that day he would remain loyal to Oblivion. He would bow to the Master's will demonstrating the twisted love Torin felt for the sinister Sith.

 

He closed his eyes and waited...

[Oblivion]

The visual manifestation was one that thoroughly pleased the man, feeling the almost rapid metaphoric change appear before him. He could feel a certain kind of renewed, bigorous energy that flowed out from her, matching the intensity of the heat that sweltered now in the small tight chambers of the lift. Once she had formed her sentence and renewed her vows, light began to emerge from the darkness, a sudden shift of weight coming to a sudden hault as they reached the very bottom of the ocean.

 

"...We're here. So it shall be, Darth Anathema, that your status be filled once more in the Sith Order. Kamino and all its inhabitants are at your control. Seek out the young soul who lingers and let your mind and body be free from your constraints. Through him, you will be become completly whole again."

 

With the slighest nod of his head, the man stepped back into the vessel, leaving her in the underwater facilities as he continued the long climb back upwards. Through the glare of the window, an obvious smile could be seen, reveling in the moment as she began her journey back to the brotherhood...

[Sirvani Zsahra]

And he was gone. She felt like a new creature, with a new outlook on life. She would not let her past haunt her. Here she had that chance. A new planet, a new home, and new apprentice.

 

She wrapped her cloak around her as she entered the underwater facility. She could feel the apprentice waiting, in pain, yet stronger for the experience. She would speak to him, tell him the change in plans.

 

It was simple to find him. His training with the Force had been so little that he did not have any mental sheilding whatsoever. His thoughts were pouring out to her like an open book if she chose to read it.

 

The doors slid open, and Anathema stepped through them. The boy was lying on the ground on his back. She noticed his skin was as crimson red as her own, and that surprised her slightly. She would not have expected Oblivion to take on an alien for training, given his disdain and predjudice. But perhaps this was a special case.

 

She approached him. "Get up, boy. Oblivion has left you under my tutelage. What do you have to say for yourself? What is your name, and why did you seek out the Sith?"

Edited May 6, 2007 by Guest

[Torin]

((Just so you know, I don't know if you realize it or not, Oblivion did make Torin cut off his lekku so the only identifying feature of Torin's alien heritage is the color of his skin))

 

The dried skin cracked and bled as Torin rolled over and pushed himself onto his knees. His vision was blurry because his eyeballs had been dried out by the tremendous heat, and he had not yet regained power over his sight. He put one foot underneath his body and pushed up defying the blistered skin on the bottom of his feet.

 

Slowly, he turned and faced the woman, only recognizing her voice still not quite able to make out her full features. She was certianly powerful in the Force and obviously another Sith, but she was different than Master Oblivion. The mysteries about the two felt different to him. Their stories, their pasts, they were most certianly different but had both managed to embrace the darkness. That, Torin could feel about her.

 

The first thoughts that ran through the Twi'lek's mind though were why had Oblivion abandoned him and left him to train under this woman? Had he displeased his master? Was he not worthy?

 

He squinted harder, bringing the woman's figure into focus. She was a Twi'lek as well! Perhaps that is why... he thought.

 

He almost couldn't bare the pain of standing on his wounded now bleeding feet, but the naked boy answered the woman's questions. "My name is Torin Thard. I did not seek out the Sith, I was led to Oblivion by the Force. He found me. He introduced me to the darkness. I merely embraced his teachings."

 

Passion and hatred fumed out of the words spouting from Torin's mouth. Anger started to consume him once more. Anger at his master for abandoning him, anger at the physical pain he now had to endure, and anger at this woman for simply being alive. "I have studied the great history of the Sith. I have felt the Force, and have been transformed by it. I haven't been here long, but during the short time I have lived in this abyss I have shed my former weak self and made the first steps towards something greater, something more powerful."

 

"Why," said Torin, now beginning to become a slight bit too confident, "has my master entrusted my training to you? What is your name? Oblivion does not like aliens. I know that all too well," he said as he rubbed the back of his head where his lekku had once been. "So why would he turn his apprentice over to one?"

[Sirvani Zsahra]

((OOC: Thanks...must have missed that. I'll edit.))

 

IC:

 

The boy had a lot of anger. Sirvani was impressed. She could feel it literally radiating off him in waves. He would be powerful, that much was clear. Her mind had already begun forming ideas naturally on how to teach him what it meant to truly be a Sith. In a way, it was refreshing to think about something else, to get excited about something. It was natural and healthy for her mind.

 

"No, Oblivion doesn't like aliens," she replied. "But he respects my power. If you are to succeed in your training, then that is something you must learn."

 

She paused. "To answer your question, I am Darth Anathema, a Sith Master of the Order. Oblivion has turned you over to me because he trusts me and knows that I will train you into your full potential."

 

She didn't know why exactly Oblivion had made the decision to give her his apprentice. Perhaps he had seen that it was one path to healing for her to be in charge of another, to train a young mind in the ways of the Sith.

 

"Do you have any other questions?" she asked. She had the feeling the boy would find her style rather different than Oblivion's. She had never seen Oblivion training an apprentice, but had a feeling his methods would differ greatly than that of his own master's. If the obvious pain the boy was in was any sign, she was right.

[Zeke]

A freighter, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, entered the system in a shimmer of light and flicker of motion. His brown hair covered his sparkling eyes as he worked at the controls of his ship. He had searched long and hard to gather all the materials and knowledge that had brought him to this planet. Countless nights pouring away over dusty texts, so old that they were falling apart, and days without sleep as he searched locations in secret for the tools and single item he needed.

 

His hands flowed over the keyboard as a ballet dancer moved across a stage in a single fluid motion. His demeanor was flawless and at perfect balance. He had spent the time on the way to the out of the way planet of Kamino in meditation; coming to terms with the perverse act he was about to commit.

 

His ship entered the atmosphere, breaking the cloud cover with ease. He kept a steady hand on the controls as the planet's storms rocked his ship and made piloting difficult. His nav-system flashed a tiny blinking light which drew his attention. He spent a few seconds taking in the information and processing it before returning his full attention to the controls and radically altering his flight path. His ship rocketed over several deserted structures that had once held a species famed for its cloning ability. A sense of Deji-vu overcame him as he felt he had been into several of those facilities before; but he was unsure for what reason.

 

A small structure, a house roughly forty kilometers from any other platforms came into view long after he had picked it up on his scanners. His facial expression did not change as he found the final place; as he arrived at the area where the culmination of all that he had worked for would occur. He sat the ship down and allowed it time to power down before he rose from his seat and gracefully moved towards the exit. Along the way he extended his hand and grabbed a cloak off the wall.

 

The figures hooded form exited the ship, looking to the sky for several seconds as the rain pelted his face. It would be difficult to get this done with the rain, but he had no choice. He reached into his pocket beneath his cloak, thumbing the gem and its chain for several seconds as he let down his guard for that brief second and indulged in what was to come.

 

He pulled the chain out, and with it the glowing gem upon it. It had been created as a gift, but it had never graced the recipient's neck. Instead tragedy had occurred and the Galaxy had moved on without even realizing it. The Galaxy had been unaware of the injustice being committed by the man who had made it as well. They knew of his lesser exploits, but never of the most devious. Only a handful knew of the most perverse and twisted of his actions.

 

It was time those were rectified.

 

The man stepped up to the edge of the balcony upon which he stood and extended his hand with the necklace upon it. The waters churned and raged as if fighting to grab hold of him and consume him so that it might have the item. He closed his eyes and several forgotten words escaped his lips as he further drew forth the spirit of an old Master of the force against its will. The Master had come here to rest for all eternity, but he would be denied that wish on this day.

 

The platform shook and the necklace glowed scarlet as the hatred in the air of both entities became palpable and saturated the air. His brown, rain drenched hair flared out as he felt the first burst of energy. His grip on the necklace tightened. It was key that he keep it in his hands for the entire duration of what was happening.

 

He stumbled backwards as another wave of energy was forced into his body. His knees grew weak as everything about him down the very core of his being, down to each of his individual alleles was altered. It was not a drastic change in some area's, but in others he felt as if the bare nerve endings would soon explode as the pain jarred him like nothing else ever had.

 

He fell to his knees and pulled the gem close to his chest, resisting the urge to cry out and show weakness and pain. A wave splashed over the side of the platform and soaked him to the bones as the final burst of energy, or power was pulled through the gem and into his body. At the exact instant it entered he muttered a final word and made a motion with his hands that not even the greatest of Sith could probably identify. When it was done and over with, he struggled to his feet, twisted his neck until there was an audible cracking sound, and then slowly made his way back to his ship. There was nothing left for him at this planet. As fast as he had arrived, he was gone.

[Torin]

With his vision clearing he was able to make out more of the woman's features. He was stunned to see that she too was a red skinned Twi'lek. Physically he and his new master were very similar. It excited parts of the young boy to be in the presence of an exotic female that had mastered what he himself desired. His anger towards her subsided, replaced by a hidden lust that he did not yet entirely recognize or understand, but physically his nakedness slightly revealed his attraction towards his new master.

 

He was becoming a true Sith, full of lust, desire, gluttony, passion, and hatred. The hatred fueled by his pain still existed and he wanted nothing more than to seek out some form of medical aid and then return to his training.

 

"Other than requesting medical aid for these burns, no, I have no other questions. I do respect Oblivion and if he feels confident in your abilities then I will be as well. I will submit to your training."

 

As the words breached Torin's lips he felt a disturbance. His abilities to sense the Force at all times was still not fully atuned, but he could feel a slight flutter, a presence that he had never noticed. It grew and became stronger then disappeared entirely.

 

"Did you feel that?" he asked Darth Anathema. "And may I please find some medical attention and preferably some clothes?" He had just recognized his body's physical awareness of the attractive Twi'lek female standing near him.

[Sirvani Zsahra]

"Pain makes you stronger," she replied. "It is not something to run from, but to learn from. Pain is your ally. It fuels your emotions, and adds fuel to your fire."

 

It was a rebuke, and she spoke the words with a touch of reprimand. "But since you are weak, go, get bacta and heal yourself."

 

She felt the dominant change in the Force, then felt the presence leave. It was of no concern to her. Just then her comm buzzed with an incoming message from the Dark Lord.

 

Finally... she thought. I can figure out who the new Dark Lord is and see what commands he has.

 

She activated the message, and was instantly struck with surprise at the face that looked back at her. Raynuk Montar?!?! She knew he had been the Dark Lord in the past, but didn't think he was still alive. It was like a blast from the past, and a welcome one. Raynuk was a good friend...or at least, he had been in the past.

 

She turned to Torin and motioned for him to follow her. "We are going to Korriban. The Sith are gathering together under a new Dark Lord. Gather anything you need and meet me at the landing platform. This will be a useful lesson for you."

 

She activated the turbolift, sending them up towards the surface. Once the trip was over--in which Sirvani did not look or speak to the boy--they exited the lift. Sending him off to heal and get ready, she went directly to her ship. She would wait there for him, then they'd leave this miserable wet planet.

[Torin]

The idea of leaving Kamino thrilled Torin. He had been held prisoner inside Oblivion's lair long enough, it was time for the young boy to see the galaxy and begin to apply many of the things he had learned, not to mention learn many new things.

 

It was colder in this part of the facility so Torin hurried to a medical bay and found some bacta that he applied to his skin. He wrapped his burnt hands and feet with the bandages, found some pants, a tunic, and a pair of boots and raced to meet his new master at the landing platform. He carried only his brown satchel and his ornamental dagger given to him by his first master, Oblivion.

 

A meeting with all of the other Sith. The very thought of being in the presence of the Dark Lord excited the young Sith and yet caused fear to run loose through his veins. He had studied the many Dark Lords of the past and knew that their power generally far surpassed typical Sith. It was his goal to someday attain the same status as these particular ancestors, and to meet one would be a great thrill.

 

As he stepped onto the ship all he could think was that soon he would meet the person that one day he would have to destroy. Torin did not look back to the wet world. He would never forget the lessons he had learned on Kamino from Master Oblivion, but now it was time to expand on his power under the tutelage of his new master, Darth Anathema.

[Sirvani Zsahra]

As they parted, Sirvani felt an involuntary shiver run down her lekku at the apprentice's obvious attraction to her. It was flattering, but it struck her as way too ironic. The past, they said, had a tendency to repeat itself, and this scene was like the filmmakers had decided to splice in an past scene of a movie.

 

She would have to decide how to deal with this. But for now, she'd ignore it until it became more of an issue.

 

She felt Torin come onto the ship, and she quickly lifted off and pointed the ship's nose towards Korriban. With a flip of the lever, they were in hyperspace.

 

((To Korriban...))

[Zadkiel]

Zad's ship touched down on a vacant landing pad. He hadn't bothered sending in a comm. to the planet, as he knew that there weren't really any inhabitants left except a few scattered Sith. Though, from the feel of the place he was unsure if there was anyone here at all. He jumped out of his ship and made his way inside. The silence that overcame as he moved deeper into the building was the sort of quiet that could drive a man insane. The sort of silence you would expect only from floating in space.

 

His blue eyes surveyed the various rooms as he passed them. Many would be disturbed to see the evidence of previous inhabitants while simultaneously having the input of the force telling them that they were the only living person in this facility. For Zad, though, the sensation was quite pleasant. He knew what species used to call this place home and to be quite frank he was glad they had been wiped out. The Sith lord could only hope the rest of the species of the Galaxy, save for his own, were wiped out as well.

 

He found a door marked as storage and decided to see if there was anything inside that would prove useful. He looked over everything inside and much to his surprise he found something marked to belong to another Sith, but it was so appealing he couldn't help but bust open the lock and find a mobile table of some sort to carry it on. He loaded up the armor on the operating table he had quickly found and took it to the hanger. Zad loaded the gear into a freighter before returning into the facility proper.

 

He found a working computer system and accessed it. He began reviewing the events that had happened in the past months on the holo-net in detail. Darkwatch Securities had risen, the Hutts had fallen. The Alliance dominated the Empire at Csilla and various new businesses had revealed themselves to the public eye. The only thing that had caught his interest, though, was Darkwatch. They provided items of a sort that no other business could offer; the sort of items he required.

 

He prepared a comm. and sent it out to the company. While he was waiting on a response he decided to forge his ranged weapons. They would require several days' works and a precise hand for the cutting that would be required. He took the forge that was located beneath the facility and began the long process of forging a crystal. He worked at it for three days without rest and when at last he was finish he passed out with the still hot crystal clutched in his hands.

 

__

 

After waking up from his much needed sleep he began the process of splitting the crystal into twenty tiny shards. Once that task was completed he began the process of designing and building twenty tiny, identical holders for the shards. The end result was twenty razorblades, only the blade was that of a lightsaber. Each of them were ignited using the force.

 

He took the next few hours to touch up on his skills with a lightsaber as well as perform his daily routine which had been neglected over the past few weeks. Once finished with that, he began the long process of learning to properly use his new toy.

[Zadkiel]

Zadkiel stirred. He had fallen asleep at his work bench. He had been there for more days then he could count, having one of the few Sith Acolytes in the place bringing him water so as to keep himself alive as he constructed what could only be called the ”˜hilt' of his newest weapon. He was crafted of Phrik that he had acquired from the Alchemy labs far below.

 

The crystal for it took nearly as long as the hilt itself to perfect and once that was finished he caught up on a bit of sleep before suiting up, strapping on his new gear, and setting out on his way back to Kakuto.

[Bad karma]

The ride had been a quiet one, with Viktor retreating to his quarters and Dominique to hers. After having a bite to eat, she felt rest was in order. She hadn't slept since she had last been at Silence and without the force she would have already collapsed from exhaustion. When they finally arrived in system, it was Viktor that brought the ship into orbit and down onto a landing pad. He wasn't the best pilot and as such his landing wasn't exactly graceful thanks to the torrential rain obscuring his view and threatening to toss the ship around like a rag doll.

 

After the ship touched down, Dominique moved towards the exit. She nodded to both Viktor and Atia when she noticed they were waiting for her, and then moved out of the ship. The force surrounded her, keeping her dry. Viktor, while having the ability to do the same opted to just let the rain pelt his form. Both of them had cleaned up during the ride and were wearing new clothes now. Dominique's were still black and tight, but a cloak covered much of her body and hid the fact of how tight her clothes were.

 

Once inside, she found silence and stopped for a moment to enjoy it before she spoke.

 

”œYou've both come a long way in your training. It is here that you will construct your weapon.”

[Malicious Intent]

Atia was soaked. She hadn't exactly planned for the rain, but she was glad for it. It felt cool and refreshing. She had been led down a turbolift and was told to make a lightsaber. She went to her designated side of the room and looked through the parts. There were several style of hilts, varying degrees of power emitters and focusing lenses. Everything needed for a diverse lightsaber, except the crystals.

 

Atia leaned against the wall to try to remember how the Sith made crystals. If memory served, she had to throw raw material in an incredibly hot furnace to burn out the impurities while using the force to form the crystals. She looked over at the bench, picking up the raw elements to make the crystals. She placed it in the furnace and started it up. Atia sat down two meters from the furnace door and began to suspend the material withing the furnace chamber. Within moments the material had grown bright red, it's molecular bonds incinerating from the heat. Now it was a free floating liquid mass. Atia remembered that the force in her was strongest when she focused on her emotions.

 

She began to recall every mean-spirited thing her master had done to her for no appearant reason. The pain, the embarrassment. None of this she deserved. Moving back through her mind, she remembered all those who ridiculed her growing up. Cruelly commenting on her lack of standard vision, that she was a freak. Oh how she wanted to kill them! Kill them and everyone they knew, just so they'd know not to mess with her.

 

The added support of her anger began to compress the material, forcing the molecules together. The flame got hotter, and the lesser materials started burning out of the crystals. Now the crystals began to take shape, and color. The iron remaining in the crystals gave them a red color. Atia knew the crystals would probably be fit enough to work in a lightsaber, but her hatred commanded her to continue, to unleash itself through the crystals.

 

Now Atia remembered her first kill. The man who had attacked her for no reason, and how good it felt to hurt him, even after her master showed her how it had felt. Knowing how he had hurt only reinforced the pleasure. A wicked smile came on her face as she continued to bask in the memory of how good it had felt. The crystals began to contort, compressing ever smaller as more material was added.

 

When she had finished, Atia waited for the crystals both to cool. She made two, one as the primary and one the focusing. She pulled them out with the force, making sure not to touch them herself to keep from marring the surface before it was put in. The crystals both came out red, with an abnormality. They had what looked like a fine mist of black in the middle. Atia had thought for a moment, realizing that it was when she lingered upon her first death, she had set a different feeling through the crystal. Pleasure instead of hatred. Atia enjoyed the crystals, giving off an aura that matched hers. She kept them afloat as she made her way back to the workbench.

[Bad karma]

Dominique found a lavish room and claimed it as her own. She had no real personal effects or anything like that, but that didn't matter. There wasn't a soul on this planet that would dispute her claim to a room that had been empty for ages. The species that had lived here had been considerably intelligent and she was not sure why the Sith felt they should die. Such mindless violence was surely only brought into play to sate the blood lust of the heathens.

 

She found the bed and tossed herself onto it, curling up for a good nights sleep while her apprentices worked tirelessly.

 

__

 

Viktor began work on his weapon, gathering the needed materials for his crystal first and beginning to forge it. The process would be long and tiring, but once it was done he had a lot more work ahead of him still. He was thankful that he had slept on the way here.

[Malicious Intent]

With her newly formed crystals suspended in air, Atia began to go through the rest of the parts needed. She had to decide what kind of lightsaber she wanted.

 

I'm not terribly strong, but I'm quick. Perhaps I should go for a curved dueling hilt. It's a tad harder to align the crystals just right, but it requires more grace than brutal strength to use. More up my ally.

 

She picked through the parts until coming upon a curved hilt, still just an empty shell. There was only one to choose from, but she didn't think how the hilt mattered would matter. Looks, after all, could be deceiving. However she didn't want it to be conventional. This is where she put her "tinkering" to practical use. Even as a child she was good with engineering little devices. Now was perhaps the pinnacle of all that playing around.

 

She broke the empty hilt apart and started to throw in the basic pieces. The power cell, brackets for the crystals, the wires that would rest on the inner wall waiting to be hooked up later. She paid extra attention to the mounting brackets for the crystals. If the crystals were realigned, the lightsaber was likely to explode.

 

The brackets set, Atia made one last overview to make sure everything was in place before the final step. She made a final tuning on the stabalizer ring and stood back, admiring her work thus far.

[Bad karma]

With his crystal forged, Viktor set to work on working a sheet of phrik into a tube casing for his lightsaber. The crystal itself had taken at least four hours to rid it of all of its impurities and have something that would be useful. He hoped that the hilt wouldn't take as long, but knew it wouldn't matter. He'd work as long as it took to get a quality weapon out of his work.

[Malicious Intent]

Atia looked over at Viktor, hand forging his hilt. She felt inept that she hadn't thought out the option of customizing one, but shrugged it off and moved on. Now all that was left was the placement of the crystals. She levitated the crystals over to their place and slowly set them in place one by one. Atia shut out her sight and focused, using the force to feel around the surface of the crystals, looking for the perfect angle to place them at. Slowly the crystals spun, changing direction at Atia's will until she felt that they couldn't be more perfectly aligned. She set them in place and studied the angle with her sight. It did indeed feel like the correct placement. She glanced at her chrono, noticing that it had taken her a half hour just to align each crystal.

 

She stood for a second, trying to remember the passage of time when she was setting the crystals but gave up and attached the second half of the hilt. The saber was chrome plated with black grip. She was pleased in the simplicity of the design.

 

Unable to hold back her enthusiasm any more, she picked it up and held it in her hand. It was heavy, but with the aide of the force it was almost unnoticeable. She palmed her new tool, acting as if it were an extension of herself. The metal was warm to the touch despite the fact that she had hardly touched it while constructing it. The heat it permeated was not natural, but this didn't detract from the pleasure it gave Atia to hold. She flicked on the internal switch via the force and watched the blade extend for it's first time.

 

The lightsaber's blade was a dark crimson. Atia suspected it was the fine black mist in the crystals that gave them their darker than average shade of red. She flicked it around, noticing the weightlessness of the blade. The hum of the blade pleasing in her ears.

 

"I name you ßloodlust."

[Bad karma]

Viktor positioned his crystal, adjusting it several times before he felt that it was set properly. He took the time to make a few minor modifications to his weapon and adjust a few more things before clipping it to his belt and standing up. He looked at Atia and her ignited weapon before walking past her and into the turbolift.

 

When the turbolift door slid open, Dominique was standing there. Before he could say anything she had pulled his weapon off of his belt to inspect. She spent five minutes looking it over, testing its weight, and doing various other things before tossing it back to him and motioning for him to ignite it so she could see if it functioned properly rather then blow up in his face.

 

He held it out at arm's length, horizontally, and ignited it. A vermillion blade erupted into life with all the brilliance of any other lightsaber. It's low hum sounded just right and it didn't explode in his face; it would suit him fine. Dominique looked to Atia's already ignited blade noting that it hadn't blown up in her face either.

 

”œFind a room on the surface and learn to use those weapons.”

[Malicious Intent]

Atia followed Viktor to a room in which she presumed was supposed to learn how to use her new weapon. She saw him ignite his and gave him a quizzical look.

 

"So...how exactly are we supposed to learn how to use these?"

 

She ignited her lightsaber, still admiring the dark crimson glow. Something told her to prepare herself. She was no longer in the safety of the lab. Atia drew upon the force, letting it well up inside her until called upon. She waited for Viktor to give some clue as to what they should be doing.

[Bad karma]

Viktor extended his hand, twisting his now activated weapon. The vermillion blade cast a faint glow onto his face in the dimly lit room. He enjoyed basking in its glow as he watched the female switch her weapon on. His hazel eyes stared into her milky white orbs, knowing that despite her obvious blindness she could see him as well, if not better, than any other person would be able too.

 

”œDon't you think it's obvious?”

[Malicious Intent]

She hadn't expected a true fight with such deadly weapons this early in her training, but Viktor's strikes were fast. Faster than "practice" should be for the first time. The blows came swift, but without the strength Atia though he had at his disposal.

 

So he is holding back, but replacing strength with speed.

 

Atia gave a wry smile as she parried his attack, knowing full and well this is why she chose the curved hilt. It wasn't only for speed and precision, but distance. When holding the lightsaber, you extend your arm in it's fullest, bending your elbow mostly for powerful attacks. Most of the movement with her lightsaber would be with her feet and wrist. The danger of the fight only excited her. The thought that at any moment she could loose her life made the fight that much more entertaining.

 

She jumped backwards, aided by the force, to give herself the distance she required, then lunged. Her attacks were equally fast, but she knew she couldn't match his strength if he pressed it. She had to keep him on the offensive. Subtle wrist movements, and blinding speed made her lightsaber cut through the air, leaving normal eyes to see the trails of light following her movement. She pressed on, keeping her attacks at torso level, making him keep his guard low.

 

The speed of the battle made her adrenaline pump. She started to recall the last time she had fought and how good it felt to have someone under her thumb. She wanted to crush Viktor as she had her first. She wanted to hear his death moans, his agony, his pain. With every swing she felt the force growing in her, begging to be unleashed. She summoned her anger and continued to press the attack.

 

All of a sudden, she made a seemingly desperate attack low, making him drop his blade else he loose a leg. Blades locked, she stepped in, giving up her distance advantage and struck him in the face with her left fist. The overpowered blow knocked him back, but Atia didn't press the attack any further. She wanted him to get up. She didn't want the practice to be over. There was so much more fun to be had.

 

"Grounded by such a little girl, tisk tisk."

[Bad karma]

The girl was good with a saber, but he had spent long nights practicing his kata's and honing his body's natural strength and skill. She relied on the force, as he did, but in the end he would surpass her due to the tireless training he had already endured. He had only stumbled back, rather then falling onto his back so her statement was rather foolish”¦but rather then point it out; he'd try to capitalize on something else he felt would get to her.

 

He shook his head, offering her a wicked smile as he twirled his weapon and walked forward towards her. He obviously wasn't going to assault her just yet, but he kept his guard up in case she decided to attack him.

 

”œYou're much better then I thought you would be.”

[Malicious Intent]

Atia's lightsaber fell from her hand when she hit the wall. She coughed, tasting her own blood and stood up, pulling the lightsaber back to her hand. The taste of her own blood sent a sense of confusion in her. She should have been thinking of how much that hurt, but the only thing coming to her mind was that her blood tasted pretty good to her and that the blow didn't hurt as much as she though it would. She rolled her shoulders and neck, sending a echo of cracks in the empty room. The pain he put in her didn't work anticipated, only making her angry she had been thrown so easily. Now she looked directly at him.

 

"Silly me, must've slipped."

 

She made no attempt to hide her anger in her features. Everything about her screamed fury. She consciously projected her anger on the room, letting it reach Viktor as she approached him, instilling a primal fear on would normally get when fighting a monstrous predator. About two meters in front of him she increased her speed and her strength with the force, no longer controlling her strikes.

 

She let herself give into her fury, used it to focus the force, every blow sending a tremor of anger though the room. Viktor's motions were slightly fumbled, the fear she worked to instill creeping up on him. She struck high, giving him little time to block. Before their blades even met, she dropped low to sweep his feet. With his footing lost, Atia decided to give back Viktor's force push, sending him into the opposite wall as he had done.

 

"Is this floor uneven or something?"

[Bad karma]

Viktor crashed into the wall, his saber deactivated before he could slam into it. The instant his back met the thick, unmovable wall it arched forward in pain as the nerves all up and down his spine were lit aflame with pain. He grunted an stood up, a smile still on his stern features. He held his lightsaber to his palm using only his thumb as he stretched and began walking forward. Three steps into his walk the vermillion blade was alive and glowing again.

 

”œIt must be, normally I'm much more graceful then this.”