"Once you start down the path, forever it will dominate your destiny, consume you it will..." Words that were often quoted and depicted as holy writ, for they had been spoken by Yoda. Of course, the Jedi Order of his era, which in many ways had been moulded into a reflection of him, had hardly been a society of paragons. Still, the dark side was fundamentally corrupting. It would be colossal folly to assume that one would harness its power without falling prey to Nemesis catching up. At the same time it was a gross simplification to regard it as a malevolent demon that would pounce on naughty Jedi if they strayed, for such a view would mean an abdication of responsibility.
Still, there were risks. This was one of the reasons why Siobhan did not want to train her beloved daughter, [member="Galina Kerrigan-Alcori"], herself. Her daughter was not supposed to walk down the road she had, for it could easily be one to perdition. [member="Tempest"] had been trained by Siobhan, but was very much her own woman with her own approach. Perhaps not a natural teacher, but then neither had Siobhan been. Bottom line was, she trusted Tempest to do right by her daughter.
Thus after thoroughly exploiting the chance to cause all sorts of carnage on the Firemane training grounds, which would probably be a queen to clean up for whoever was unlucky to be landed with such an unsatisfactory gig, Siobhan had found her way into Mirien's room, lying on her bed. Coincidentally and perhaps rather adorably, she was wearing one of Mirien's t-shirts. With a soft sigh she reached out and picked up a rather dark looking data crystal. On paper it was as mundane as any other datacron, but it radiated with a sinister power as she held it between her fingers, her fingernails being perfectly manicured. Sheer darkness emanated from it, both repulsive and yet alluring.
It was Mirien's journal or rather part of it. An account of the vile, monstrous deeds she had perpetrated during her time as a Bando Gora Acolyte. Siobhan considered it a sign of trust, of the bond they shared, that Mirien had given it to her. Of her own accord, without needing any prodding.
Or maybe you're fooling yourself and you're just being drawn into the darkness? And into damnation. No, that was nonsense. Mirien had not 'turned' her to the dark side. Nor had their bond accomplished this. The truth was that Siobhan had been on the road a long time before the two met. Perhaps it had started when she first unleashed the power of the dark side during her duel with the Bando Gora Primarch. Perhaps when Shadow possessed her and drove her to madness, but the latter option sounded too much like she was trying to shift responsibility and that was not her.
My choices, my responsibility, my mistakes. Galina would learn from Tempest. Siobhan would probably have to...apologise to the Amazon for her rather gruff words. Of course, far as Siobhan was concerned she had been in the right, but the woman was still important to her. Hopefully Galina would come to understand why she needed training in controlling her abilities. These thoughts cast aside, Siobhan took a breath and plugged the crystal into her datapad, then she started to flip through the files it contained, realizing quickly that it was a small hoard of information of Mirien's early alchemy experiments. It was a grim, gruesome account steeped in blood and filled with glee at the suffering of others, delight at the dark power she was gaining. Part of her wanted to switch the device off and turn away, but she forced herself to read on. Why was she so intent on this? Because she felt she had to confront the woman Mirien had been, especially if she wanted to help her. She could not avert her eyes from the fact that the woman she cared for so deeply had once been a monster. Or maybe it was her own hunger for power driving her? A lust she was well-aware of and tried to channel in ways that did no harm. Or at least that was what she liked to tell herself.
Siobhan kept reading through the lengthy notes, for even as a Bando Gora Mirien had been well-organised and meticulous. There were descriptions of early medical experimentation with Bando Gora narcotics, detailed accounts of how slaves had suffered, mutated and often died...her successful creation of a True Reaver, then a very gory tale of her first encounter with mechu-deru. Siobhan shuddered as she read this account, unable to continue reading she looked away as she tried to centre herself. As if on automatism her mind flashed back to the day when she herself had been infected with the technovirus on Corellia. She had come so close to losing her will and her very identity, being turned into an abomination and even after being cured, some nanites had remained. It was only thanks to the tireless efforts of her beloved friend, [member="Coryth Elaris"], that they had been neutralised.
This Mirien, the one she had been, was someone Siobhan loathed inside and out. More to the point, she was someone Mirien loathed. Experimenting on living and innocent humans and aliens alike was wrong on so many levels. There could be no excuse for something this barbaric. But Mirien was different now. Not because she had suddenly woken up and randomly decided to turn a new leaf to ingratiate herself, but because she had genuinely turned her back on her evil self. She had made that choice on Gehenna. More importantly, it was a choice she was making every day.
Siobhan felt like putting the data crystal away when she finally looked at it again, but then stayed her hand when she found that the next chapter was about...Dark Repair. At least that was what she believed the elaborate script that heralded the start of it meant. Suddenly Siobhan found herself intrigued and focused upon it again, taking the 'pad into her hands. It was common wisdom to say that you could not heal if you were of the dark side, but that was not true. It was just not sustained healing the way Jedi healers practiced it. Nor was it healthy for your body in the long-term but it was possible. Rave Merrill had 'healed' Siobhan after her body had been all but broken in the first battle with Lotek'k, though the act of mending her bones and putting them back together had hurt as much as them being broken in the first place.
Healing with the Dark Side was extremely difficult and wrought with risks. Dark Repair could fix you well enough, but it was like stitches. It was about forcing structures back together, exacting your will to force your body to function. There was a risk of infection, and eventually you would need medical care. Still, in an emergency situation, in the thick of combat, it could be an asset, a temporary aid until you could get real treatment. Something to use when those of the light side, the ones who could really heal body and soul, were not available. And so Siobhan began reading, fingers tracing along the screen, making notes in the margins.
