A Thorn for a Butcher Bird

[Maris Fero]

Just when she was making great progress with the damned drones, Enyo put a pause on the whole exercise, seemingly to just make the whole thing even more designed to embarrass her apprentice. Out of that duffel bag of wonders came a battered old helmet, it looked sort of like the ones worn by heavy enforcers at the casino doors or outside some of the more rowdy cage fighting arenas in the lower city.

Her initial reaction to the order to don the old protective headgear was a look of mild disgust at the thing, there was a stale smell to the item that clearly meant nothing to Enyo. A blast shield was another oddity, the name spoke for itself but the times when it was necessary seemed limited to Maris.

She eased the helmet on, the size was awkwardly large for her head but the padding held it more or less in place, with anyone but Enyo, Maris might have been concerned that she would be laughed at in the thing. No such emotion ever seemed to escape her boss’s lips. Then the blast shield went down and Maris swore once more beneath her breath, it was opaque and utterly obscured her vision.

“I can't see a thing now,” she grumbled and ignited the sabre once again, listening carefully for the thrumming of the remotes despite the helm considerably hindered those efforts too.

The attacks recommenced and at first the obvious occurred; Maris was shot once, twice, dodged, a fourth struck her turning blade as she felt the urge to parry just so, another parry - or maybe a miss, it felt different - and a then another shot right to the ass.

With a frustrated grunt, she spun on the spot, reaching out and pulled, willing the drone closer and feeling reality work to realise her wish as the straining remote came within perfect range of a killing jab.

And then Maris' leg muscles spasmed energetically before falling limp, the lingering whine of another lower frequency weapon profile still ringing in her ears as she felt herself lose balance and topple over the numbed limb. A paddle beamer. What was it with Enyo Typhos and paddle beamers?

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]

Enyo liked paddle beamers, it was true. The name was beyond ridiculous, but they were very practical weapons. Could cause numbness with a glancing blow and unconsciousness with a good, solid hit. Unblockable by lightsabres unless those underwent a special calibration, which made them unable to deflect normal blaster bolts. What was not to like? Maybe once Maris had dealt with the bots Enyo would show her how to calibrate the lightsabre accordingly.

Regardless, Maris was unhappy about the helmet. This was understandable. You could not see a thing with the blast shield down and it was probably messing up her raven hair. At least it was clean. Anyhow, Robomum saw fit to deliver some advice she probably considered to be helpful, while Maris faced off against the remaining drones. "Let instinct guide you. Eyes are often deceiving. You will feel the battlefield, the enemy in front of you through the Force. Use of the Force comes down to will. If you will it enough, you will see the attacks come before they begin."

 

[Maris Fero]

Enyo gave her advice, and Maris tried to regain her feet - which was next to hopeless for the moment, one leg utterly numbed and slackened by the paddle beamer.

“And can I Force my leg to work?” she replied with a growl as the youth dragged herself to standing using a nearby crate. “Blinded and hamstrung - “

She lunged left, with a groan of effort as her shoulder connected with another crate to steady her, the motion narrowly avoiding another blast from the beam weapon. “ - dancing on one leg,-”

Another turn, testing the weakened limb again before lashing out with the energy blade and ricocheting another shot up into the ceiling, sparks scattering from a unfortunate lighting strip that absorbed the impact. “ - seeing with my will, like I’m some sort of fortuneteller.”

Her lips twisted down with another snarl as she felt the passing drone scoot closer, the swish of her blade skimming past Enyo to bisect the remote cleanly. Despite her complaints, despite the suffering - something was working.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]

Enyo was pleased. Not about the snark and grumbling. But about the fact that things were working. Maris was grumpy, to say the least. But she was performing - and succeeding. The Cyborg could feel the Force flow through her. "No. Fortune-tellers have no power, save for being able to deceive the gullible. You do. You wanted to harness the power inside you, this is how you do it." she remarked in a matter-of-fact tone.

Maris' lightsabre swept past her. Close enough for Enyo to smell the ozone in the air, but she did not flinch. Or show any sort of reaction to it. The air was filled with the smell of burnt electronics and pieces of metal when Maris cut a drone in half. Now only one remote was left. With all of its backup gone, it unloaded on Maris, firing both its mini blaster and the paddle beamer.

 

[Maris Fero]

They have no power, You do.

The sentiment pleased the youth despite the continued discomfort. She had known of fortunetellers for a long time now, even in the bowels of Efavan their were those who claimed a secret insight into the tangles of fate, techno-oracles and drug addled soothsayers. It was reassuring to hear Enyo dismiss such actors as powerless charlatans - something she had long suspected, believing most to be little more than delusional junkies or simply mad.

The last of the drones circled to achieve a perfect firing angle; Through a combination of her hearing and pure instinctual understanding granted through her nascent Force connection, Maris shielded gaze followed the remotes course accurately, readying her blade for the next blast and silently preparing herself for the next nasty twist Enyo might have in store.

The drone fired, twin whines of discharge informed Maris that two different weapons were focused on her, with a twist she managed to hop aside from one energy weapon, her blade catching the other and deflecting it somewhere into the shadows of the storage chamber. A sharp pivot later and the drone fired again - the saber moved almost of its own accord as Maris guided its arc to catch both blasts with a single stroke. The blaster bolt reflected back and caught the remotes propulsion stabilisers - as likely down to sheer luck as to any true intuition. Despite the perfection of the saber stroke, the other energy emission struck home, connecting with her working leg.

Remote and apprentice both careened to the floor inelegantly, one sparking and shorting the other with a sudden high squeal and thud. She had managed to deactivate the saber in the fall and it had rolled a little way from her as Maris used both arms to attempt to brace her fall. Something popped in the youths left wrist, a jolt of agony running the length of her forearm as she curled there, breathing deeply and clutching the injury to her chest.

Maris pushed the helmet clear and rolled onto her back; Teeth clenched, she looked up at Enyo, and waited in silence for a moment, wishing for any muscle control from her lower limbs.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Maris Fero]

They have no power, You do.

The sentiment pleased the youth despite the continued discomfort. She had known of fortunetellers for a long time now, even in the bowels of Efavan their were those who claimed a secret insight into the tangles of fate, techno-oracles and drug addled soothsayers. It was reassuring to hear Enyo dismiss such actors as powerless charlatans - something she had long suspected, believing most to be little more than delusional junkies or simply mad.

The last of the drones circled to achieve a perfect firing angle; Through a combination of her hearing and pure instinctual understanding granted through her nascent Force connection, Maris shielded gaze followed the remotes course accurately, readying her blade for the next blast and silently preparing herself for the next nasty twist Enyo might have in store.

The drone fired, twin whines of discharge informed Maris that two different weapons were focused on her, with a twist she managed to hop aside from one energy weapon, her blade catching the other and deflecting it somewhere into the shadows of the storage chamber. A sharp pivot later and the drone fired again - the saber moved almost of its own accord as Maris guided its arc to catch both blasts with a single stroke. The blaster bolt reflected back and caught the remotes propulsion stabilisers - as likely down to sheer luck as to any true intuition. Despite the perfection of the saber stroke, the other energy emission struck home, connecting with her working leg.

Remote and apprentice both careened to the floor inelegantly, one sparking and shorting the other with a sudden high squeal and thud. She had managed to deactivate the saber in the fall and it had rolled a little way from her as Maris used both arms to attempt to brace her fall. Something popped in the youths left wrist, a jolt of agony running the length of her forearm as she curled there, breathing deeply and clutching the injury to her chest.

Maris pushed the helmet clear and rolled onto her back; Teeth clenched, she looked up at Enyo, and waited in silence for a moment, wishing for any muscle control from her lower limbs.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]

Maris had taken out the last of the remotes. She was also sort of paralysed. Surely she could finally get a break? Maybe get a soda. Alas, that was not the case yet. Enyo wanted her to perfectly react and deal with any possible dangers. One could never let down one's guard on the battlefield. No battle was fought under ideal conditions.

The young acolyte might receive a premonition of danger through the Force, assuming her senses were still alert after the injuries she had sustained. Either way, two small, flying droids would assail her. They had, in fact, been here for quite a while, albeit hidden, while she was busy deflecting blaster bolts, cutting through remotes and dealing with her boss' obsession with paddle beamers. Both droids were equipped with shock prods. The pain setting had been amped up. Enyo did not want Maris to get seriously hurt...just enough to learn. "Eliminate them," Enyo said softly when the droids engaged the ganger.

 

[Maris Fero]

The youth had watched Enyo with laboured breath; In truth, she was still wary - with good reason considering Enyo’s habit of pushing the bounds of training scenarios beyond the point that many might consider ‘reasonable’ or ‘fair’. At least Maris could never accuse her boss of going easy on her or keeping her at arm's length from danger.

Enyo trained Maris to expect the worse. So it came of little surprise to see the subtle little attack droids pivot from the shadows and move in on attack vectors, shock prods flashing arcs of actinic blue static as they charged up.

Maris grimaced and reached out toward the saber that had rolled some distance from her grasp; Unlike the paddle beamer and lightsaber displayed so far, Maris was intimately aware of the capabilities of short bursts of high voltage current to a body. Her wrist ached to move and the initial swelling suggested the injury was beyond a bruise, still she stretched for the saber, willing herself to reach further, urging the saber to roll back her direction.

There was a moment when it felt like an inevitability that the droids would reach her in time, but then the smooth hilt of the saber began to roll, slowly at first, then faster as her confidence grew and she summoned the weapon back to her pained grip.

With a low sweeping blow she batted aside the closest droid, the low power setting on the saber simply overloading it rather than bisecting the mechanism.

Focus was key, the pain cut through all other distractions and as the second droid closed on her the youth’s free hand darted out beneath its path, faster than any untrained soul could have achieved the Shrike caught the second drone in a backhand grip, grunting in effort as she forced the shock prods down onto her stunned legs.

There was a flash and a scream of rage, a crunch and the sound of raining fragments as she crushed down on the object of her rage - feeling her legs spasm as the pain coursed through her.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]

At long last, Maris got a break, having crushed the last remote into lots of pieces. "Good," Enyo stated. "Never let down your guard. Never feel secure in victory unless your enemy has been destroyed." She retrieved an item from her duffel bag and approached Maris' prone form, bending down. The item turned out to be a syringe.

"Paddle beamers are a popular means to disable Force-Users. They also bypass armour. Lightsabres cannot block shots from them without being calibrated accordingly. Set calibration renders them unable to block blaster bolts. Your best bet against them is agility and precognition." After rolling up Maris' trousers a bit to give her better access, she prepared the singe and jabbed it into her legs; first one, then the other. Maris would experience a strong sensation once the needle pierced her skin and the substance entered her bloodstream. It would not do anything against the pain. As a matter of fact, the drugs would cause her a good deal of pain, but also counteract her paralaysis.

 

[Maris Fero]

Never let your guard down

It was difficult advice to ignore, even now after the ‘training’ was ostensibly completed Maris was still wary. It was hard to shake the obvious disquiet from her mind as she watched Enyo with eyes that sought further danger, further pain. Is Enyo Typhos my enemy?

The syringe that her Master brandished was not reassuring in the least, the youths green eyes flicked between the needle’s point and the cyborg’s eyes; She might have sought reassurance from another’s gaze, but no trace of was to be found in her companion’s features.

Instead, Enyo gave a dry analysis of the paddle weapon that had been used to cripple the Shrike during the engagement with the drones; While Maris absorbed the information effortlessly her focus was elsewhere, watching silently as her master rolled up both legs of Maris’ trousers to expose her legs below the knees. The action triggered a vague memory in the young woman - a smell of burning incense, dark curls of hair the mirror of her own. Her bottom lip twitched and as she tried to identify the sensation, looking to see if Enyo felt it too but seeing nothing.

Maris was surprisingly composed when the needle was applied to her flesh once and then once more, reaching to squeeze Enyo’s other hand - apparently for comfort - before halting as the pain flooded from the growing sensation in her limbs returning. A stifled cry was cut short, but the woman’s face contorting showed the truth of the agonies inflicted by the concerted spasm of every muscle in her thighs, calves and feet.

There was more cursing, tears even as she squirmed, but within a minute she sensations passed and the ganger lay sprawled once more panting breathlessly as she tested her aching legs.

“It hurts-” she moaned softly, eyes closing.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]

"I know," Enyo said. Her tone had softened a bit, compared to the bland one she had used just a moment ago. Perhaps she was remembering her younger self. Before her rebirth. Before everything. It had all happened in the span of a few years. Strictly speaking, she was younger than Maris. Yet it seemed like a life time ago.

"It will pass. Pain is the crucible you must pass through in order to emerge stronger." One her own siblings would have to face, too. Some understood this better than others. "True greatness cannot be achieved without struggle."

With the exception of Amara, her siblings had been set free without having to first endure Archangel's manipulations. This made them inclined to take their freedom for granted, even though it had not been attained through their own efforts. Without Amara, Enyo might very well still be Archangel's slave, but her sister was held back by her willful naivete. Maris had to struggle to get anywhere in the polluted slums of Vorzyd.

 

[Maris Fero]

Empathy was not a trait that Maris had associated with Enyo Typhos over the course of their association. So it had surprised the youth to hear a note of such sentiment in her Master's words. Long lashes parted and the Shrike again regarded Enyo with a searching gaze, still seeking insight the cyborg’s features would be unlikely to betray.

“Is it always like this? Am I climbing out the torture of this vermin-ridden drukhole of a city - just to reach another?” the young woman asked in response to the brunettes reply, whilst she brushed back the dark hair that come loose to obscured half of her pale features.

“Libertas speaks of chains, and said that we are all prisoners,” she went on after a moment, testing her weight on a shaky knee and shifting to kneel, “But is she really free?”

The girl had taken some liberties with the Sith’s words, coloured by her own thoughts and what antipathy still remained between them, but the consideration of a possibly eternal struggle had been weighing on her mind for some time. With a stern look and a curl of her lip, the girl shifted the lightsaber toward her outstretched hand once again, the force of her will alone seeming to empower the slowly rolling cylindrical hilt.

“How far does this take us?”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]

“Is it always like this? Am I climbing out the torture of this vermin-ridden drukhole of a city - just to reach another?”

Perhaps unexpectedly, Enyo seemed to consider this question instead of dismissing it outright. "Yes," she said softly. "There is no golden paradise, unless you willfully make it yourself. But ignorance is not freedom. There is always a pit trying to swallow you. There are always foes to overcome."

It was a fundamentally nihilistic view of the world. Life was struggle; there was no justice beyond what could be attained with one's own hands. Her thoughts drifted to Amara again. Her sister thought she had climbed out of the pit, but all she had done was close her eyes to the pit around her and wish herself elsewhere.

“Libertas speaks of chains, and said that we are all prisoners. But is she really free?”"

"Libertas loves the sound of her own voice. Some of what she says is true, a lot of it is just supposed to make her seem wise and powerful. She thinks that she is the truest Sith because she does not bow to their so-called 'Emperor'...but she takes orders from me instead of being the Sith's overlord."

To her the Twi'lek was useful, but she also found her preachey and full of herself. "No one is ever totally free. Everyone is subject to the laws of mortality and physics. Being idle and wealthy does not make you free, nor does shirking responsibility. All you can do is ensure that no one person can put you in chains."

 

[Maris Fero]

No golden paradise that you don’t make yourself. No end to struggles, forever. The simplicity of that truth struck Maris as appropriate, even if it was bleak - it aligned with her own suspicions. Only the strong advance.

She half-suppressed a snort at Enyo’s statement on Libertas, nodding lightly to note her agreement; The scarlet skinned Twi’lek seemed to want to embody some magnanimous lecturer role, eager to impress on the others how they might improve themselves - in line with her opinions and beliefs. Maris had asked herself several times why the mighty Darth Libertas might subject herself to Enyo’s command, with only one answer. Inferiority.

It didn’t escape Maris’ notice that this was also her reason for serving Enyo - At least initially.

“The Sith have an Emperor?” she asked herself aloud as if the concept bothered her. Once Enyo had finished Maris nodded slowly, pursing her lips, her brows furrowed in thought as she allowed the saber hilt roll and twist in her dexterous grip, just playing with the weight of the weapon.

Only one person had ever truly put Maris in chains, only one person had bent the Shrike to her purposes, grey green eyes flicked up to regard Enyo briefly before falling again.

“No freedom, no end - and I can’t fly.” She added the last in a perfect deadpan. “Good to know”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]

"Yes," Enyo said simply. "Some Force-Users can fly. It is extremely wasteful and they tend to end up crashing and cracking their skull open on the ground." Her tone was deadpan. It was a lovely image. Sometimes she wished to see it converted into reality when it came to her template.

"The Emperor is a coward and the Sith who kneel before him are even bigger ones," she remarked, in reference to Maris' earlier query. “They go so far as to call him their 'immortal emperor'.“ Enyo was not contemptuous of all Sith, but those she respected tended to forge their own path. Such as [member="Matsu Xiangu"]. The look Maris had given her had not gone unnoticed. The girl was a little spider. Perhaps one day she would strain against the bonds placed on her, and try to break them. Enyo deemed it worth the risk.

She walked over to the duffel bag and picked out a bunch of unignited lightsabres. These looked a bit more exotic, and, among other things, included a lightsabre-pike, a shoto and a double-bladed lightsabre. The latter was one of the most impractical, show-offish lightsabre types ever designed. Copter sabres had not been included. This was a terrible oversight!

"Aside from the standard, there are other lightsabres types. It's pointless to try and master every single one, especially since many aren't that practical. But one should have an idea of how they work." Personally, Enyo was a single bladed, dual phase crossguard lightsabre type.

 

[Maris Fero]

It would have been difficult to tell if Enyo was kidding, were she to be known for jokes or falsehoods from day to day. Despite having close to no evidence of such activities from her boss Maris still held onto a shred of disbelief when Enyo suggested that force users could fly, though she could detect no signs of deception.

The Sith Emperor certainly hadn’t done enough to convince Enyo Typhos, and the Shrike was predisposed to give weight to her Master's point of view. Still, the judgement that those who would kneel before the false idol were even lesser in Enyo’s eyes weighed upon the youth more heavily.

Cowards kneel.

The girl rose, flicking the muted sabre between grips as she played with the weight of it once more, no longer kneeling.

The silhouette of her master cast a shadow over the relatively diminutive Shrike and the young woman observed the new collection of unknown sabers with keen attention; One looked like a staff, the next a stunted thing that was little longer than a handsbreadth and the third an awkwardly shaped hilt nearly twice the length of the one she held already, with emitter ends on both sides. Maris imagined she might well cut herself in half with such a weapon.

The youth stood at ease as the Master spoke her lesson, nodding and watching as Enyo explained.

“Which am I to learn with, my Master?” she asked, eyes straying to each of the new weapons with interest.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]

Enyo did not immediately answer Maris' query. Instead she picked up the double-bladed lightsabre. She pressed the ignition switch, and both scarlet blades sprang to life with a snap-hiss. Holding the weapon, she gave it an experimental swing, taking care to make sure it did not sweep anywhere close to Maris. She swung one blade, then the other. “This is an idiotic weapon,“ she remarked. “Bit of a 'fad' among certain Force-users.“ When she said 'fad', it sounded like an old Master grumbling about the young whippersnappers getting it all wrong. This was ironic since she was technically only half a decade old.

“Some manage to use it without chopping off their own body parts. It has greater killing power, but its value lies more in intimidation than practicality. If you face someone using a sabre-staff, your mind may be tempted to keep track of each blade separately, confusing you. But both blades are connected. You know the location of one, you know the location of the other. Precision is lacking, and the long sweeping movements it requires make it poor for a quick stab or thrust.“ She switched it off and put the weapon away.

Then she picked up the lightsabre that looked like a spear or halberd. It had a long shaft, resembling the type used by the Knights of Zakuul millennia ago. Igniting it produced a lightsabre blade on one end. “Lightsabre-pike. This has its uses. You can thrust it like a spear, slash, block, and use the other end to bash someone. Above all, it has reach."

"You're short of stature. This is beneficial for avoiding sweeping power attacks by dodging or ducking under them, striking quickly by slipping past your opponent's guard and sneaking through places someone larger would not fit through,“ she observed. “But you lack reach, and that is an issue when someone larger has you cornered. With this weapon you can keep someone bigger and stronger or several foes at bay. But you won't be very mobile.“

Finally, she came to the lightsabre-dagger. It produced a very short blade. “Shoto. It has no reach and is poor at blocking, but quick, dexterous and stealthy. Poor for head-on combat, but but a weapon of surprise and precision. One can wield full-sized sabre in one's dominant hand to defend, and a shoto in one's off-hand to strike. You'll learn how to use the pike and the shoto.“

 

[Maris Fero]

There was something to say about the intimidation value of the dual bladed lightsaber. Indeed, before Enyo had stated the obvious facts about the position of one blade informing the relative position of the other Maris had started to worry about the task of tracking the second deadly edge. If such a thing could ever be called an edge.

The ‘blades’ were tight red beams of controlled fury, which seemed to hum angrily as her Master cycled between swings to demonstrate the twin movements. The afterimage formed from the spinning beams of energy gave the illusion of overwhelming defence to Maris’ untrained gaze.

“It looks the part, the intimidation has some value.” she offered in response to Enyo’s critique of the ‘fad’ weapon.

The saber pike was nearly as alien to the Ganger as the weapon which had preceded it. The only spears Maris had seen growing up were decorations outside some of the more lavish Casino towers or fight pits. Still, a long stick was as good as anything else in a dire situation, she supposed.

The Shoto was delicate and light, it’s mass more familiar to the weapons Maris had favoured in her old life, as Enyo spoke about the weapon the youth heart quickened a fraction, imagining the weight in her own grip. Fast, deadly and meant for sharp strikes, easier to hide in the palm, easier to twist? Two weapons. Not something she had really had much success with outside of dire circumstances.

But then Enyo told her she’d also be learning the pike, and the youth failed to keep the look of mixed excitement and exasperation from her features.

"Great.. Can I see it?" she halted herself from reaching for the shoto.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]

Enyo observed that Maris looked a lot more enthused with the Shoto. This was natural given her approach and background. Presumably she was not used to spears or long pole weapons. However, one did not always get to use what one wanted or operate under ideal circumstances. Victory in battle was about adaptation.

"You'll start with the pike," the Cyborg decided. What a spoilsport. Always getting in the way of the little spider's fun. "Then the Shoto." She passed the long weapon to the young ganger. "Remember, a lightsabre does not require heavy strikes to be effective. A simple touch with the blade will burnt or cut an unprotected person. You make economical use of the tip, take advantage of the weapon's reach."

 

[Maris Fero]

The relative length of the pike was alien to Maris, weighing the weapon’s shaft up as she claimed it from her master. The shorter woman fumbled with the dead weight for a time, trying to settle upon a stance which felt natural. She switched back and forth with the blade ignited, to the left and right of her feet, changing up her grip to lengthen and shorten the reach of her killing edge.

She was self-conscious that Enyo would be judging her even now; Maris was disappointed that the fluid motion hadn’t come instinctively and that so far nothing truly felt right and natural. Wasn’t that what Enyo had seen and admired in her, raw talent?

There was potential their though. Thrust into the darkness the weapon felt swift and powerful; a wide swing was satisfyingly sweeping and carried the force of her motion. It was cumbersome to one who had never wielded something of such length and she wondered if this particular weapon had been fitted with Enyo in mind.

“I am aware of my ignorance with this weapon, master” she admitted, glancing side-eyed to Enyo as she continued to move the spear-like sabre in delicate twisting cuts, trying to use her leading hand as a central point and controlling the movement of the tip with trailing hand, more as a test than any true technique. “I am hesitant.”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]