Private An Ancestral Sojourn (First Sister)

[Darth Carnifex]

P A N A T H A​

The crackle of electricity filled the humid air. A tetrarchy of Akguza Guards, spindly humanoid automatons, slowly stalked a lone figure at the center of a large open-air platform. Their robotic digits coiled firmly around the electrostaffs in their hands, servos whining in protest as their grip tightened.

Though they were droids, their processing matrixes had been augmented to incorporate learning algorithms so that they retained everything their photoreceptors and auditory sensors picked up during their windows of operation. Their central computers possessed data from over a hundred different confrontations with the individual they circled, each one ending in the unit's termination via mutilation and dismemberment. They learned from each failure, becoming that more accustomed to their adversary's strategies and style of combat, so they could better prove a challenge to him.

It was never enough.

As one they attacked, servos whirring as they pushed themselves forward on magnetic soles. A thousand different calculations ran through their processors within the span of movement, photoreceptors watching as the man moved in reaction. A beam of pure energy extended from the cylindrical object in his right hand, burning brightly with the hue of freshly spilled blood. With this weapon, the man deflected the first barrage of attacks effortlessly, his body moving on pure instinct without any thought put behind each movement.

In the lull, he swung up to strike the center shaft of the electrostaff wielded by Unit-3. Before Unit-3 could re-correct the orientation of its limbs, the man swung his weapon around and bifurcated the droid at the waist. The top half tumbled backward on its own momentum, clattering to the ground as a cascade of system failures caused Unit-3 to loosen its grip on its own weapon. The lower half remained rooted in place, the magnetic soles still engaged despite the loss of communication with the command matrix.

The other three remaining units recalculated their strategy, factoring in the loss of Unit-3 and formulating a strategy to compensate. Unit-2 moved in for a frontal assault, robotic hands spinning the electrostaff faster than any organic hand could, and launched a barrage of attacks against the individual. He countered without hesitation, blade flashed up, down, left, and right to block each strike as it honed in. Units 1 and 4 moved in from behind in a pincer maneuver, their weapons moving just as fast as Unit-2's.

Sensing their approach, the individual's hand suddenly lashed out and grabbed Unit-2's staff and held it steady. With a soft grunt, the individual whirled around and yanked Unit-2 clear off the ground, despite the magnetics supposedly keeping the unit rooted, and slammed it into Unit-1. The impact caused intense kinetic surface damage to both Unit's chassis and sent Unit-1 careening back from the force, leaving Unit-4 to continue in alone. The individual turned its weapon against Unit-4, countering several strikes before depriving the droid of its limbs one at a time.

He then walked over, stabbing downward with his blade to neutralize Units 1 and 2. With all of the droids rendered inoperable, the individual deactivated his weapon and hung it on his belt. Reaching up to run a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, Darth Carnifex let out a short breath as he looked about the training platform. Beyond the platform's boundary was the jungles of Panatha, his homeworld, teaming with the Living Force and boisterous with the sound of a trillion animals.

Though he was content with his quarters on Malsheem, a primordial aspect of his being insisted that he visit his ancestral home. So he had come back to Panatha, greeted his uncle Adriel as warmly as he could muster, and then set himself to training and studying the Dark Side in their mountain retreat.

But he did not come alone.

"Were you watching, apprentice?"

Chasianna ​

 

[Chasianna]

P A N A T H A​

In spite of having bested two Jedi on the Prosperity over Ziost, forcing the Chieftain of the Bryn'adûl to retreat on Sev Tok, and grievously wounding Grundark, the ex-Felucian Warlord, it was no secret that the tiny electromancer’s skills with a lightsaber needed refinement. Fortunately, there was no better teacher in the galaxy than the Eternal Father himself, her God and Master. However, given the disparity in physical size between master and apprentice, some who were less faithful might have questioned the wisdom in such a tiny individual training under a massive God-Titan. Surely, she might be better served training under a Bimm, a Jawa, or even a member of Yoda’s species, individuals who could teach her how to leverage her stature against larger opponents, using their own weight against them. Indeed, that had been the initial plan of her overseers. However, none dared to say anything in opposition when the Dark Lord chose the Sister to join the ranks of his apprentices, to train directly under the most powerful Sith of the era.

Having accompanied her master to his ancestral home on Panatha, the Sister watched as he engaged the four Akguza Guards, her senses tuned to the galvanic emanations of their activated electrostaffs. In a real fight, she would have seized control of the electricity in their weapons and turned it against them, like she had done to one of the Jedi on the Prosperity, upon sensing the electrical signatures given off by the Firkrann crystal inside her lightsaber.

However, to do that now would only invite her God’s ire, but the thought crossing her mind nevertheless amused her, albeit only for a snap moment before she reset her focus back on her master as he continued to engage the hyper-intelligent droids. However, in being relatively mediocre as a lightsaber duelist, the Sister could only take in so much while watching a virtuoso of the art, even with the assistance of Surge dilating her perception of the world. In doing so, she could sense that he was holding back, even against such advanced droids. The Dark Lord could have easily blitzed the constructs if he so chose, but he instead fought them on relatively even terms with only moderate use of the Force, perhaps for her sake.

“Yes, master.” She answered softly, bowing slightly to him before pausing, briefly glancing at the now-dismembered droids as she did...

Darth Carnifex ​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"In time you will display similar proficiency."

Similar but not equal. As hard as First Sister might try, she would never be the equal of her master. Nor would she surpass him, but that was not part of the intention of her design. She was to be a disciple of his teachings, not a replacement. Such was the fate of the New Sith Order that he had organized following the dissolution of the Tenth Sith Empire, a far departure from the Sith Brotherhood he'd helped foster when the Empire was in its infancy. Only his will mattered, only his vision.

"You have much to learn," it was fact rather than opinion, "But I will, in time, elevate you through my instruction." Hooded cretins, creatures born from alchemy, scuttled out from hidden alcoves to retrieve the destroyed droids and drag them off for repairs. When they were rebuilt, they will contain the logs of their most recent failure and calculate new strategies to compensate. And then they would be defeated again, and again, and again, each time learning.

"Draw your lightsaber, apprentice. We will begin your instruction with velocities." Neither he nor the First Sister would lower the power-scaling of their lightsabers, as was the tradition among the apprentices of the Dark Lord. Mistakes were to be remembered. The intricacies and variants of velocities had been imprinted in the First Sister's mind during her gestation, as they had been for all IX-73b strand-casts. She would not require further elaboration when he spoke.

"Sequence 17." He suddenly struck with an overhead slash down towards First Sister's head, which would, in turn, be countered with the apprentice's saber. Then she would attack him from the left flank and he would block it, then he would attack her from the right and she would block.

Again and again through the same movements, repetition on repetition.

Chasianna ​

 

[Chasianna]

"You have much to learn," it was fact rather than opinion, "But I will, in time, elevate you through my instruction."

How high could a God elevate a being as tiny and insignificant as her? She imagined that perhaps he could push her power to heights that she could not yet even conceive of, so long as she remained dedicated to his Eclipsing Mission and did not stray like so many of his former apprentices had, enraptured by delusions of grandeur only to meet ignoble ends at the hands of their fellow heretics. Indeed, the Sister had seen the consequences with her own eyes, the head of the so-called Dark Saint of the Sith, hoisted aloft by a more savage heretic, after falling from the path and finding only weakness at the end.

The sight yet still disgusted her, but it was a sight that she would never forget.

“I understand, Master.”

"Draw your lightsaber, apprentice. We will begin your instruction with velocities."

Calling on the Force, the Sister’s lightsaber floated into her hand, casting forth a vibrant magenta blade in the process. The implication was understood by them both, though the Sister doubted that setting her own blade to full power would improve her chances against a God. Nevertheless, her lightsaber was quickly readied and the tiny Qilin assumed her stance before he spoke once more.

Ingrained into her mind, the sequence came to her as easy as breathing, a dance of blades with simple, yet graceful steps. However, being as small as she was, the force of her Master’s blows would smash against her defenses, to the point where she needed to summon all of her strength, both in the Force and within her body, to counter him.

Before long, she would need her Speed, as well.

Fortunately, her Master’s increases in velocity between each sequence were gradual, but even at a slow pace, she could feel the strain building in her muscles. Recalling the words of her old overseer, telling her to focus on maintaining her form in order to overcome the pangs of exhaustion, the Sister did just that. So long as she fell into the empowering energies of Bogan and held her form, she could weather her Master’s strikes, at least, for a time...

Darth Carnifex ​