H-16 – seems as good a place as any…

[Darth Zilti]

Maja enjoyed space travel. As a Vahla it was probably in her blood – in fact she was unable to stay in one place too long and suffered land-sickness as a result. The second reason was more practical – it allowed her to study – to find out information. It was never studying for studying’s sake – rather it was always practical. Learning about a given Sith Lord from history or finding out who can offer her training.

So she was heading to H-16, or Panatha as it was better known. She knew little about the planet to be true. It was home to the Epicanthix, who were known to be tall and oddly immune to Force-based mental tricks. And more importantly it was home to a current Sith Lord – [member="Darth Vornskr"].

She’d heard mixed reviews about his morality and some of his methods – but she wasn’t here to find a new boyfriend, she wanted to learn and she always gravitated to the best. Kaine Zambrano was his given name, but he’d collected a number of other epithets in his time – the Butcher of Junction and Togoria, the Black Iron Tyrant, the God-King of the Epicanthix, the Butcher-King. Boys and their titles, eh?

Was there a specific Ability she’d come here to learn? In truth no – when the offer transpired to visit and learn, picking one of so many Sith’s strengths mattered little. Any training would be gratefully received. But his renowned Alter Abilities certainly caught her eye as she read the reports of his exploits. But under the circumstances, she’d let him decide what he would show her.

So as she came in to land, her small rented shuttle heading towards what could easily have been the home of the King of Panatha, she realised that this was also one of his titles. Some collected stamps or toy cars, so who was she to judge him?

 

[Darth Carnifex]

838 ABY - First Year of the Core War
Vain Hollow - Panatha - Fringe Territory - Outer Rim

Ominous thunder clouds, a common sight on Panatha, loomed on the horizon of the volcanic plateau where the Sith stronghold of Vain Hollow was built upon, and eventually the small drizzle turned into a torrential downpour upon the ashen fields. While there was rain aplenty, the ground was so saturated with ash and sulfur that nothing would grow on the plateau for many, many years. Still, the rain turned the loose soot that sat atop the barren rock and ash into a grotesque puddle of black and gray, a primordial soup that was dangerous to anyone who happened to accidentally wander too close. Luckily for the inhabitants of Vain Hollow there were high, thick walls separating them from the noxious fields outside, and generally the atmosphere within the castle walls was somber, yet the air was alight with excitement as the gladiatorial arenas were covered by metal roofs before the rain reached the castle, and thus the games could continue unabated.

Many of the lesser Zambranos were in attendance during the games, taking the place of the Emperor as the hosts of the jovial events while he attended to matters high in the apex of the castle's central spire. The castle was a blend of the archaic stone architecture of the Epicanthix and the dark, soulless durasteel and turadium plating that was commonplace in standard Imperial installations across the galaxy. Dark red, green, and purple lightning illuminated the dark halls, which occasionally were further illuminated by the far-off strikes of lightning from the raging storm outside. The apex of the castle also served as a lightning rod, and frequently a bolt of lightning would strike the uppermost spires and send a kinetic reverberation through the entire tower, but it hardly perturbed the occupants to any degree.

It was the throne room that was the center of activity, as many of the Emperor's minions were assembled in the high-vaulted chamber to meet with the Dark Lord of the Epicanthix over political and military matters concerning the newly formed Panathan Empire. Those in attendance included the Graug Warchief, Malgrog, and the Vanr monarch, the Spear-Queen Rhyia. Both of these people had contributed greatly in the Emperor's conquest to bring the various holdings of the Epicanthix into a singular government, and had been rewarded with their own planetary kingdoms to rule as they pleased, but in the end they were still under the command of the Emperor himself. Still, they were content to serve someone who had proven himself a capable warrior, and a powerful leader, and soon enough whatever concerns they had were addressed and they filed out of the throne room to leave the Emperor all in his lonesome.

One minion remained, however; and he knelt down before his Lord and Master to deliver upon him news: "My lord, your guest has arrived. Her shuttle has just landed outside, shall we grant her entry?"

The Emperor adjusted himself on the throne, and with an amused smile he answered: "Bring her before me, and do not keep her delayed."

"Yes, Emperor Zambrano, your will be done."

[member="Maja Vern"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

The shuttle made its final approach just as the heavens opened. Dark clouds to thunder, lightning and a torrential downpour in a matter of seconds. Maja figured the tourist market must be pretty small here. For the rain turned the landscape from bleak to desperate instantly. It was like landing on a planet made from death-stick ash. And from the way the ship was struggling to scrub the air, it smelled like it too.

So she did the routine docking stuff and wondered if she should take anything with her. Deciding there was nothing on the ship worth taking anyway, she put on her black robe, pulling the hood off her red hair. As she walked down the ramp, she was aware she was normally met by a plethora of guards but today she was received a solitary welcoming committee. And she had to remark that he was very polite, and well dressed.

“My lord, the Emperor Zambrano bids me grant you entry and bring you before him.”

Maja smiled. “That means you’re going to take me to your leader right?” As ever the wise-cracks were a defence mechanism. As she talked, she created time and those precious seconds were used to case the joint, check the security, make sure there were escape routes in case she needed them.

And Emperor Zambrano? She missed that one. Giving herself a mental ticking off, she glanced around the building. Archaic stone met durasteel as lifeless as the planet outside. Albeit it was drier in here. And the dark red, green, and purple lightning that illuminated the dark halls was oppressive. But then with a place this big, the fuel bills must be extortionate, so maybe he was just frugal? White lights probably cost more to run she mused.

“Interesting décor,” she offered to her guide. “Reminds me of a bruise I once had, nasty thing – lasted weeks. Slap bang in the middle of the right cheek of my-“ She was cut off mid-sentence as she surveyed the huge room that housed a mightily impressive throne. “I guess that’s why they call them throne rooms,” she said to the man that had escorted her. “I can take it from here. We should, you know, exchange numbers.” Yes it was nervous rambling. But with a purpose. More often than not it put people at ease and regularly it afforded her the protection of being underestimated.

But she also knew when to shut up – and this was one of those times. So she stepped forward, the hood of her black robe pulled back. Underneath she wore a tight-fitting one-piece black costume fashioned from Krayt Dragon hide – and around her waist she wore a simple black belt and her died black Sando Aqua Monster hide boots finished the outfit. Her saber was clipped to her belt but not visible behind the robe. In truth she looked more menacing than she actually was – especially with the facial tattoo. In comparison to the man facing her, she was insignificant – and they both knew it instinctively. But she had potential and got results and that was all she asked to be judged on.

“I appreciate you seeing me. I am here to learn whatever you choose to teach me. And I will not be found unworthy of your attention.” She chose not to bow and not to avert her eyes. Instead her oddly amber irises sparkled as she stared into his face.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The being who sat upon the black iron throne of Panatha was oppression and tyranny made manifest, his imposing frame literally dominating the seat he sat upon, and the elevated position made him all the more imposing. He was dressed in a long-flowing black zeyd-cloth robe traditional to Sith of most any nature, but his torso, shoulders and forearms were visibly covered by plates of thick ceramic armorplast polished black save for the insignia of a clenched fist on the front of the breastplate. Overlapping fauld plates covered his upper arms and were attached to the large pauldrons that rested upon the man's broad shoulders. A belt of thick black leather was fastened to his waist, and featured a blaster holster on his left hip, and his lightsaber on his right in plain view for all to see, an obvious threat to anyone that would dare cause unrest for the Emperor. Beneath the robe he wore a pair of silk trousers covered by armor that protected his groin, and shinguards were both tightly fastened to his shins and the upper parts of his leather military boots. His hood was kept back, revealing his grizzled, war-torn features, and a crown of onyx and ruby was perched atop his brow, denoting his sovereignty over all the Epicanthix.

His mouth split into a smile, the artificial grin of a murderer, and his emerald eyes gleamed with barely contained mirth as he beheld the woman who entered his inner sanctum. With barely any sound he rose from his throne, standing to his overbearing height of two-point-ten meters and began to descend the small series of steps that lead up to his throne. Each step was methodical and calculated, and his body language conveyed the feeling of an apex predator in it's own lair, circling around prey that had just so happened to wander into his den. He approached [member="Maja Vern"] until there was only two meters between the two of them, and he offered a polite bow of welcoming.

"Ah, Maja Vern, a pleasure."

His voice was dark, deep, a baritone of sinister that was rife with power and authority, a voice that was used to commanding rather than being commanded, and from the tight grip he had on his subjects it was nothing to be taken lightly. His brooding eyes glanced over Maja's form now that they were so close, and he chuckled.

"Indeed? We shall see. Many have come to me seeking my knowledge, and most fall short of my expectations... bent like reeds. Will you bend like they?"

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja noticed the imposing figure but was more impressed by the armour. By comparison she felt distinctly underdressed. But then mobility was more important to her and - let’s face it - armour? Really? It served it’s purpose by covering you up. Let’s just say it would hide some of her best assets and was therefore not an option.

He was smiling, and that was good wasn’t it. Unless he was the cat and she was the cream, in which case it was absolutely not good. Normally she was a good judge and could tell straight away where she stood. This was different, very different. But oddly she was not afraid. Perhaps she should be? Yes, most definitely she was somewhat naïve but more often than not it got her out of situations not into them. But there was always a first time wasn’t there?

And then he stood. He was even more imposing when he stood and Maja swallowed involuntarily. But she held her nerve and her gaze. What was the worst that could happen? OK, strike that thought. He was only a couple of metres away when he spoke.

"Ah, Maja Vern, a pleasure.”

If a voice ever went with an image it was this one. Dark, sinister and powerful. It was entirely complimentary to his physical presence. And the worrying part was what sort of pleasure he had in mind.

Once more she skipped the thought process. By now she’d typically be back in banter mode but there was something about him. On one hand she felt more at ease with him than the other Sith Lords she’d met. Yet the façade seemed impenetrable. She couldn’t say if she’d ever see the man behind the legend. Perhaps this was the man? But deep down she doubted it. Did I mention she was naïve?

“Many have come to me seeking my knowledge, and most fall short of my expectations... bent like reeds. Will you bend like they?"

“I can only be honest. If I am worthy you shall teach me. If not, I shall die. I request no more and expect no less. It is…the Sith way.” All this time she’d maintained eye contact. Impressed by him, surely. Intimidated? Perhaps. Fearful? Not a bit of it.

“All I ask is that you test me, push me. Make me the best Sith I can be. But I’ll neither bend nor break. I’ll stand firm, regardless of what you expect of me. I’m…tougher than I look, believe me.” Finally a smile crept to her lips. “A lot tougher, but then I suspect you’ll be the judge of that, yes?”

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

“All I ask is that you test me, push me. Make me the best Sith I can be. But I’ll neither bend nor break. I’ll stand firm, regardless of what you expect of me. I’m…tougher than I look, believe me.”

The Emperor chuckled again, "Is that so? I'm afraid you words are worthless to me, only what you do from here on out will matter, not your words and not your name. Such things hold no value in the world of the Dark Side of the Force." His face, marred by battles past, twisted up into a cruel sneer as he continued to explain, circling around the young woman like a hungry predator waiting to pounce. "I will teach you, put you through your paces, push you to the edge of your limits and beyond the point of breaking. You will burn in the forges of my crucible, I will hammer you into shape, and sharpen you to be a weapon of the Dark Side, not some abstract concept, but a living, breathing champion of the darkness." He came to a stop behind Maja, his hands clenching and unclenching in silent anxiety as his gaze peered into the back of her skull.

"Still, even as untempered as you are, I can sense the potential just waiting to break free. Like a lump of formless metal, I shall forge you into something greater. But first, you must known pain unimaginable. Pain is pure and absolute, and it is the gateway to higher realms..." He circled around her again until he was standing directly before her, his form overbearing and his aura all consuming and seductive to the point of maddening.

"Will you take that first step?"

[member="Maja Vern"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMvCNbVXZzg

She heard him chuckle and let it go. Forever the clown, she was used to being underestimated. And she listened to what he had to say…every word until he had finished. Then, and only then, she responded.

“My words are all I can give now, but they are my bond. I have never traded on my name. I could call myself Vantai and people would treat me differently but I chose not to for two reasons. Most importantly because I want to prove my worth, not hang on my sister’s coat-tails. The second is more pragmatic. Vern is not my real name, nor is Vantai. Neither of us know our true identities. Just…that we are sisters and share a Life Bond.” There was more to this story, but Maja was only prepared to reveal so much to the Sith Lord at this stage.

He’d been circling her but she chose to look forward, allowing him to size her up, as if about to pounce at any moment. Was coming here a risk? Of course, but a necessary one. She would never achieve her sister’s approval by taking the soft option.

“All I ask is to be taught, to be pushed. To be tested. Push me to my limits – I can’t promise I’ll break but I’ll endure regardless. I crave power. I wish to feel it’s true strength – the only thing worth living for. To be invincible, invulnerable.”

“I have tasted pain and I licked my lips for more.” She lowered the robe and body suit to expose her back. A burn scar covered a quarter of it - oddly the same pattern as the tattoo on her face.

“The Sith Lord Matsu. It was a test she asked of me. I have already burned, so bring on your crucible.”

By now he was in front of her again. “Forge me; I will ride the storm winds to unfathomable heights. All I ask is that you set me free.”
She was afraid of some things – but pain was not one of them. Nor was she afraid of him. Even as he stood, towering above her she stared into his eyes, unflinching. Her sister finding her unworthy, that she feared. So anything else would be endured so she did not have to even contemplate that possibility.

She took a step towards him, to confirm the psychological deal that had already been brokered. “I am ready. Set me free…”

‘I got more in me
And you can set it free
I can catch the moon in my hands
Don’t you know who I am?

Baby I’ll be tough
Too much is not enough
I can ride your heart till it breaks
Ooh, I got what it takes.

I’m gonnna live forever
I’m gonna learn how to fly, high
I feel it coming together
People will see me and cry.’

 

[Darth Carnifex]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VX-iB5GP-m4[/youtube]

"Hrm. So you say, but enough words. Actions will now dictate what is and what is not." The Sith Lord said as he cast off his robe, letting the long-flowing fabric blow away as a sudden gust flooded the room as power incarnate sparked in the air between them. The Dark Side welled up through the castle, of that it was a focal point of power build along the conjunction of what the natives referred to as mystical ley lines in which the planet's energy was the most strongest, and flowed through the Sith Lord's body like a current, coursing through every fiber, ever ligament, his bones, his cells, his very soul was saturated with the darkness of the Force. The air grew heavy and polluted with hatred made tangible, the greasy taste of ages of anger sickening each breath, poisoning their lungs with dark emotions. His eyes abruptly changed from emerald to a bright, sulfuric yellow as the Dark Side grew to it's zenith, and his body tensed with coiled strength.

"The Dark Side is strong here, young Maja, because I have built this castle with the blood of thousands and constantly drenched it in more. The Dark Side can be channeled through the castle's spire to great effect, and it is here where your true potential shall be truly unlocked. But first, I demand to see what you have learned so far." His hands curled into talons, his fingers bent and his nails sharpened, and he assumed a lax fighting stance.

"Come Maja, feed me your rage."

Silence speeds the path to the streams of solace that run so few and narrow.
Brooks that babble the sounds of torture, the sounds of torture
You will one day rise.
To flood the banks of the chosen.

This is the art of ruin.
This is the resolution
The end of all progress
The death of evolution
It bleeds all life away.

I will show you all that I have mastered
Fear. Pain. Hatred. Power.

This is the art of ruin.


[member="Maja Vern"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

The time for talking was over. Maja knew it, the Sith Lord knew it and one of them was about to be tested. And it wasn’t the towering figure that was currently disrobing. For a split second she wondered if ‘crucible’ was a pet name for his…well, you know…the thing he might want to introduce to her – but a fraction of a second later she understood.

She’d felt the power of the Force before. This was a long time before she’d visited Dxun or even the Meditative Canyon on Ambria. Her access and experience to the Force had been to reach for it, to have to pull it to her. Now? Now it came to seek her out, to wash her away in a literal flood of power. The question was, could she cope?

Her first inkling was the castle, it felt like it had suddenly become a focal point for the Force. No…not the Force, the Dark-side of the Force. There was no Light here. It was as if the Dark-side were omnipotent and omnipresent. At this level it felt good, comfortable.

But then it built and she felt the power overwhelming her, desiring her to call upon it, like a glass of wine she was sipping was suddenly poured down her throat – the glass replaced by a never ending bottle. She was quite literally gagging on the Force. She needed to find a way to allow it to flow through her instead of filling her. Next to her the Sith Lord appeared to glow with the Darkness – an oxymoron but the only words that described what she saw. Her eyes morphed from their usual amber state to a pale yellow and then a deeper shade. The irises ringed red, and then crimson.

She could feel the Force in every cell of her body, coursing through her veins and invading her mind. It was…intoxicating. For as much as she was choking on the power, she couldn’t and wouldn’t try to stop it. She wanted to drink it all.

She would drink it all…and ask for more.

She stood and allowed her robe to fall to the floor. She had few weapons at her disposal – but then this was not about killing a Sith Lord with fancy Abilities, it was about showing her strength, her power, her…potential. About showing her sister she was worthy.

The handle of her twin-bladed lightsaber hung from her hip. The Dark-side blossomed within her, the power of it resonating in her like black lightning, augmenting her few years of training, guiding her reactions. Time seemed to slow, to stretch.

Lightsaber battles were brutal in their intensity; few duels lasted more than a minute. Even for a trained Sith, the effort of all-out combat was exhausting…particularly when using the acrobatic manoeuvres. She was a true disciple of Zannah and had become an expert in the defensive sequences of the Soresu form. It was most natural for her to parry, redirect, or evade her opponent's blows and try to use her opponent’s own momentum against him.

So she unclipped her saber and held it with both hands directly in front of her waist, the hilt parallel to the ground. It activated with an unfamiliar buzzing hum and the twin blades were shorter than usual – only some 75 centimetres long. The reason became immediately apparent as she started to twirl the hilt, generating considerable speed – what she lacked in range she made up for in manoeuvrability.

‘It is not enough for you to be tested – you need to test him to truly impress him.’

‘I know, I know, now leave me be.’

‘Run and tell all of the angels
This could take all night
Think I need a devil to help me get things right

Now I'm looking to the sky to save me
Looking for a sign of life
Looking for something to help me burn out bright
I'm looking for a complication
Looking 'cause I'm tired of lying
Make my way back home when I learn to fly high.’

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1VQ_3sBZEm0

'Make my way back home when I learn to fly.'

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The lightsaber which hung so delicately from the Sith Lord's leather belt suddenly flew up to land in the palm of his outstretched right hand, and as his fingers curled around the ornate metal hilt the crimson blade sprung to life with a hiss-snap, and they were now both illuminated by the brilliance of their weapons. The Lord's legs spaced themselves even, his feet grounded to the cold floor beneath them, and he raised both arms high above him. His left hand grasped the hilt of his weapon, fingers interlocking, and he heaved the weapon above his head allowing the blade to dip back behind him at a forty-five degree angle. The silence, the tension, between the two grew dense and repugnant, until the Sith Lord broke the silence by suddenly exploding into action by lunging himself forward and bringing his blade down in a vertical arc towards Maja's wall of defense, a fighting style that he had fought extensively in the past.

No doubt as their blades clashed and the battle was joined, Kaine would call out to Maja from behind the flurry of their swords. "I once fought an Emperor who had mastered Soresu, one of the greatest practitioners of Form III of the age, and I broke his defense and shattered his spine. Relying on only defense is stagnation, is death... Do not fight like a Jedi, fight like a Sith."

[member="Maja Vern"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

The waiting was over and it seems the test was about to commence. The Sith Lord activated his own saber and he suddenly exploded into action, bringing his blade down in a vertical arc. Remembering her training Maja intercepted the blow with her own weapon, deflecting it to the side rather than blocking it.

“Relying on only defense is stagnation, is death... Do not fight like a Jedi, fight like a Sith.”

‘Why the cheeky pup, I ought to-‘

‘Leave it, I’ll deal with this…’

“Darth Bane, Darth Zannah, Darth Vader…these sound like Sith names to me. I am Vahla - tall and slender, and I possess a cartilaginous skeletons, which give me exceptional flexibility. But unlike my sister I am not genetically improved. I am pure-blood Vahla. Which means I’m physically frail.”

Maja circled the Sith Lord, awaiting his next strike.

“My lightsaber is slightly longer than normal to accommodate the twin crystals required to power the blades which are uncommonly under a meter in length. This small but significant difference is critical to the way in which I use my weapon. As Darth Bane once said, the smaller blades give me greater speed and manoeuvrability. I grip the handle lightly in my fingers. I control the weapon with my wrist and hand rather than the muscles of your arm. I sacrifice reach and leverage, but I will be able to create a shield of impenetrable defence.”

And I know you said already that defense will not slay my enemy. She said that too.” Maja smiled. Smoothly transferring the spinning crimson blades from her left hand to her right and back again.

"I lack the physical strength required for the powerful attacking strikes of Djem So or the other aggressive forms, so I have to rely on quickness, cunning and, most of all, patience to best my enemies."

“I can parry incoming attacks with minimal effort, whilst you must expend precious energy with each blow, slowly tiring while I remain fresh and strong.”

“I never meet a blade head-on, the strength of your attack would have driven my weapon back into me, or knock the lightsaber from my hand. Instead I clip your blade with a glancing contact, I block. Redirect. Wait for my opponents to become weary or frustrated. Let them make a mistake, then seize the opening and make them pay.”

“When I’m advanced and can augment my strength with the Force then perhaps I can change Forms, but what you see is clay not a finished work of art. I have two Abilities to my name for duelling. Well, three if you include Farsight. I seem able to glimpse moves an opponent may make before they make them.”

“I shall fight you as that is your test, and if you can help me develop my strength then craft me to be a different Sith - but for now, I believe I am making the most of what I have. So come on, give it your best shot.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9kPQiAJv4fo

'Been here before, so I’m prepared
Not gonna lie though, I’m kinda scared
Lace up my gloves, I’m going in
Don’t let my kids watch me when I get in the ring
I’ll take the hits, roll with the punches
I’ll get back up, it’s not as if I’ve never done this
But then again, the game is changing
Can’t just come back, jump on the mic, and do the same thing

There goes the bell, I know that sound
I guess it’s time for me to go another round
Now wish me luck, I’m gonna need it
I’ll see you on the other side, if I’m still breathing
I’m ready for all the comparisons
I think it’s dumb and it’s embarrassing
I’m switching off, no longer listening
I’ve had enough of persecution and conditioning

Maybe it’s instinct, we’re only animal
Maybe it’s healthy, maybe it’s rational
It makes me angry, I’m serious
But then again, I’m just about to get my period
I am born again, now run along and tell
All of your friends to come and join us
Give yourselves to me, I am your leader
Let me be Sheezus
Let me be Sheezus.’

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Sith Lord suddenly changed his entire style in the blink of an eye, changing from his aggressive two-handed Djem So fighting stance into a viciously quick one-handed Makashi style, swiping at gaps in the acolyte's defenses that were previously unexploited earlier. His frame, while tall and thick with muscle, suddenly belied the swiftness of his arms and footwork as he tried many disarming techniques against the girl's saber staff. "Ah, yes. The style of Zannah, an excellent form of combat... for a mouse, but do you have the magic to back up your lack of physical strength? Your form is time-tested, but unbelievably predictable, use the unorthodox, divert from the norm and carve something entirely you." She might have been able to not expend any energy blocking and parrying his strikes, but to a seasoned veteran such as he this was hardly a work-out, but his primary goal was not to crush her utterly, but push her form to the limits of what it could do.

Still, that did not lessen the intensity of his assault, and his blade was a blur in the wind as it struck again and again like one of the deadly jungle vipers that inhabited the Panathan rainforests. "You say you are Vahla? Yet you rely only on Form III, when Form IV would better suit your natural strengths. Your thin form and flexible skeleton would make acrobatic combat all the more natural, and with proper training you could circle around any opponent and defeat them."

[member="Maja Vern"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja was no Zannah. She only had Soresu at her beck and call and despite personal practice, lacked the fighting experience of an average Acolyte, let alone a Sith Lord.

So her style was solid and her moves basic. It could not allow for the Sith Lord’s familiarity with opposing Soresu users and his ability to switch Forms so effortlessly. Where she’d got into a groove – albeit an uncomfortable one – against his Djem So aggressive and powerful style, she was completely pole-axed by his change to Makashi. In truth, other than the initial training she had received – this was the first time she’d faced another Force-user with her saber.

And his words stung. Not in the controlled manner of a Sith to undermine her confidence and to distract her. No, it was because they were truths she knew of herself. The very reason she was here.

So she chose not to respond, there was no point. Instead she fought valiantly with what she had. Which was not much. She considered Force Lightning but dismissed the notion equally swiftly.

But the cracks started to show. Deflections happened later and later and now in the Inner Ring. Parries had to become blocks in order to avoid being hit. This not only jarred her bones but started to tire her muscles. And then near-misses became hits. Nothing fatal yet, but leather and skin were singed. The smell of burning flesh soon filled the room.

But she did not back down – and yielding was never an option. If she died, so be it. But she would do everything in her power to avoid it.

Then a blow to her left knee limited her movement and one to her upper right arm made holding the saber two-handed almost impossible. But she accepted the challenge and with possibly a last thrown of the dice moved the saber to her good, left hand and raised her right. Blue light coalesced around her fingers and then blue lightning arced from their tips towards the Sith Lord.

It would either catch him by surprise or make him angry. Very, very angry.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

As he had suspected, she withered away like rotting weeds in the face of his sudden form shift, herself unable to adjust to his new tactic and react accordingly was beginning to show in her defense as it became less and less sophisticated. Kaine, obviously, exploited her weakening state by battering her defenses over and over again with his graceful style, pushing the advantage with his footwork until he had backed her up into a corner, and then he descended upon her to land a vicious blow to both her left knee and her right arm. He moved in, pivoting on his feet as he moved to deliver a glancing blow across her chest with the intention to maim rather than kill, but the sudden stink of ozone caused him to come to a full stop midstrike. He thrust out his left hand, and caught the arcing bolts of sapphire lightning that exploded forth from Maja's fingers, and with a whine of power the electricity flowed into the palm of his hand and was dissipated effortlessly.

Then with the same hand he reciprocated the attack in kind, but his power vastly overpowered that of Maja's, and his lightning was ten times more powerful than the bolts she tossed at him. Still, his aim was not to kill the young acolyte, but to cause mass amounts of pain and suffering to tap into the darkness hidden behind the veil, and whether or not it had been tapped was of no consequence to the Sith Lord.

She would taste the lightning all the same.

Eventually he relented and the lightning dissipated into nothingness, and the Sith Lord towered over what would be the smoldering form of [member="Maja Vern"]. "You lack discipline, you lack focus, and you lack the adaptation of a predator that you aspire to become. I have half a mind to throw you into the beast pens after my guards have their way with you... but I sense you're more useful to me alive." The Sith Lord deactivated his lightsaber, and stood off to the side and waited.

 

[Darth Zilti]

OK, she anticipated angry and she got it. And then some.

The gulf between them in power and knowledge was galactic in proportions. She knew that when she came here – but she arrived seeking training, not adulation. He’d exposed her weaknesses and lack of learning – but she’d not pretended any differently had she?

All she’d promised is that she could and would learn and that she’d take whatever he would throw at her. She had to at least live up to that side of the bargain.

She’d taken the battering at the hands of his saber and he’d negated her Force Lightning attack with consummate ease. And as predicted he’d returned it with interest. She’d endured Force Lightning when she’d been taught it – but this made that pain pale into insignificance. That was a pin-prick. This was a sledgehammer.

But…and it’s a valid but…she endured. The pain was overwhelming but she did not cry out. She fought the natural instinct to curl into a ball – however hard her body demanded it – and no words passed her lips. No cries, no whimpers…nothing. She was stoic.

Charred, but stoic.

His taunts hurt for once, and then there was silence. Slowly she sat up straight – only now realising she was sitting and no longer standing. The air reeked of a combination of burned leather and skin. She looked him in the eyes and then her gaze darted around the room until she saw her bag. Reaching out painfully with her right hand, she used what little Force she had remaining to pull it to her. Her hand went in and she pulled out a candy bar. Taking a big bite she looked back at the Sith Lord.

“I like you. The beard? Meh…but I like you.” Her voice was croaky and she was clearly in pain. Bravado was all she had left and she intended to use it. “Discipline? Focus? Adaptation? You can teach me those things.” She moved slightly and her skin audibly crackled as the leather than was stuck to it pulled away. “But first,” she threw her candy bar to the ground, “Do you have any aspirin? I think I’ve got a queen of a headache coming.” She attempted a smile. It wasn’t entirely convincing, but it would have to do. For now her main focus was on not passing out.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Smartass." The Sith Lord sighed and frowned deeply, obviously displeased with her nonchalant attitude towards everything where as he was deathly serious and even though his cruelty was mixed with his twisted sense of humor, he more serious than anything. He eyes seemed far more oppressive than they were earlier as they bore into her from above, hard as ice and murderous, they gazed over her charred form and then after blinking once he shifted his attention to a servant, who had previously remained unseen in the shadows, over in the far corner who had witnessed the entire event without making a noise or batting an eyelash. Still, when the Sith Lord looked upon him he was quick to scuttle to his side, and prostrate himself before Kaine in a manner of total devotion, and even dark fear. "Assemble a room for lady [member="Maja Vern"], and tend to her every need."

He then turned back to Maja, "Rest your shattered body, Maja, for when I call you back in a day's time your experience will be more gruesome than the last." And with that he turned and left, his imposing form easily crossing the room's lengths in a couple of strides before he disappeared from view through a door on the right side of the throne's platform, which he closed behind him. The servant, who could no longer remember his birth name, watched as his master departed and then turned to tend to the apprentice.

"You're lucky, you know." The mouse of a man whispered so quietly Maja would have to strain to actually hear his words, "I've seen grown men as tall as trees be obliterated by a mere fraction of his sorcerous powers, and you shrugged it off so... casually... No wonder he's taken an interest in you." The servant moved to aid Maja, if she would let him, and would begin to direct her to the guest wing of the castle. Of course, the wing in question was rather small and only contained a total of ten medium-sized rooms all furbished with exquisite trappings and furniture, but they were nowhere near as large as the Master's own chambers or that of some of his more loyal servants. Still, it was better than this servant's room, his room was the size of a broom closet more or less, but he managed to make it work as he was small and lithe. And while his mind had been conditioned to total devotion to the dark one, he still would've liked a larger room...

But, it was not the servant's right to question the master... Unless he wanted to be fed to the hounds...

He didn't like the hounds...

 

[Darth Zilti]

“Smartass.”

In truth she couldn’t argue with him – even if she had the energy to. She was just that. Too often she’d let her mouth run away with her. To some it was endearing. To others she suspected it made them want to kill her.

She checked her arms. Nope, she was still alive, which was always a good sign. She wasn’t sure if what she’d endured was par for the course or if he’d simply taken a shine to her, but regardless his eyes spoke the truth. They told of murder and what would happen the moment she stepped over the line. She knew she’d already gone close to it. Maybe she’d even strayed over at some point. But she’d tested the boundary and lived to tell the tale. But barely it felt.

If she was in a bad way now, his next words sent a chill down her spine.

“Rest your shattered body, Maja, for when I call you back in a day's time your experience will be more gruesome than the last.”

Well that didn’t sound too promising. But she’d signed up for the duration and she wasn’t going to let a near-death experience derail her. He could mock her efforts and her learning but her spirit was the one tool she had that he could never criticize.

And then he was gone. She sat back, exhausted. Just sitting up was killing her…literally.

“You're lucky, you know.”

She smiled. “Let me know when my fortune changes, OK?” And she let him help her up. In truth she had no choice – she wouldn’t make it anywhere without his help. Although even just touching her skin was like agony and as she moved, the leather slowly but surely pulled away from her body, pulling dry and dead skin with it.

“Hey, at least I won’t have to exfoliate tonight,” she said…”Um…I don’t know your name. ‘Cause you’ve been a real buddy though this you know. A serious trooper, eh?”

The journey took at least four times as long as it should, given how slowly she could move. “And forget the aspirin, some bacta would come in handy now.” Her guard was down and the pragmatic half of her knew she needed help as she flopped onto the bed and felt unconsciousness envelop her.

‘You impressed him, well done.’

‘Kark off, queen!’

‘That’s the spirit…’

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

((Sorry for the long wait!))

The servant watched as Maja drifted off into unconsciousness after the effects of Vornskr's lightning had finally taken it's toll, and his breath almost caught in his throat. He quickly moved over to her and checked her pulse, and let out a sigh of relief when he realized she wasn't dead, just unconscious. There'd be no telling what punishment would be inflicted upon him should the Master discover she had died under his watch, bile already rising to the back of his throat at the mere thought of it all. He shook his head free of such nauseating thoughts, and went to work to clean up Maja as best he could. He first started by cutting her clothes from her body, which was a harder task than it sounded considering the lightning had seared her flesh and her clothing together, but with some effort he was able to pry it, and a couple patches of skin, free to leave her naked on the soft silks of the bed before rushing off to find a set of clean clothes in the prime of Epicanthix fashion.

He did not dress her, but rather left the clothes in a bundle near her unconscious form and instead proceeded to run a bath in the adjacent refresher for when the lady finally woke from her slumber, however long it may be. The servant may be young, but he learned the value of patience from those who mentored him, and the modifications the Master inflicted upon his body allowed him to stand silent as a statue for hours on end without making a peep or growing tired.

So, like a creeper, he stood in the corner of the room and watched Maja sleep until she woke up.

[member="Maja Vern"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

Spoiler

[ooc]No worries[/ooc]

The light outside was so dark to begin with that it was impossible to tell how long she’d been asleep, or was that unconscious? And did it even matter.

As she awoke, two thoughts immediately crossed her mind. The first was a dilemma. What hurt most, her bones or her skin? The second was that she was face down, naked on the bed.

Which meant someone undressed her. And it was probably the presence she felt in the room, hovering like a statue. If she felt better, she’d cover her modesty but she was beyond that. So, twisting her head, she looked at the person who was clearly watching her.

“Oh, it’s you.” It was a non-committal sort of statement and her tone matched it. “I figured it wasn’t him. Did you…you know…forget it, I just know it was you.”

Slowly she turned over and shakily got to her feet. Her clothes had gone, just her boots remained. And some clothes had been laid out for her. Had she more energy, she would have returned to her ship, butt-naked and collected some replacements. She’d done many things in her short life and exposing her body was one she’d endured to get her saber crystal, so this – far more innocent revelation was not phasing her now.

“Thanks,” she offered. “Can I clean up?" She saw the bath through the open door and nodded. “You think of everything don’t you?” She smiled and took a short bath, finding the water both soothing and relaxing. She wasn’t anywhere near 100% yet she dressed and clipped her saber to her belt before facing her silent benefactor again.

“OK you. Seconds out, round two. I’m ready to face him again. And if you’ve got a pep talk, now would be a great time.”

“And do you have a candy bar, I’m starving?”

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The boy said nothing, but merely lowered his gaze and quietly walked from the corner of the room to the doorway, and opened it with one hand to usher Maja out. He would then himself walk out of the room, closing the door behind him, and hurrying to move ahead of Maja and lead her not back up to the throne chamber, but rather to the central lift system situated at the center of the tower, and he pressed the small button to the right of the thick metal doors. After a moment of awkward silence, the lift finally arrived and the doors opened with a quiet groan, and the servant stepped inside and patiently waited for Maja to enter as well, and when she did he would press one of the numbered buttons on the side panel which would cause the doors to close and the lift to begin it's descent. Unlike the stereotypical concept of a lift, there would be no smooth jazz playing over some intercom, only the quiet hum of the descending lift and their breathing.

When the lift finally stopped descending and the doors opened, the servant quickly sprung into action, rushing out of the lift to lead Maja down a series of corridors until they reached the upper ramparts of the lower castle, which happened to overlook a large courtyard where several dozen Epicanthix men and women trained vigorously with sword and blaster in the dim aftermath of the earlier downpour which heralded Maja's arrival. The smell of fresh rain was still heavy in the air, but as the servant led Maja down a flight of steps that bordered the ramparts and the courtyard the smell of decomposing flesh became far more potent, the cause of which was quickly revealed when they passed by a section of the courtyard previously hidden by massive arches and towering walls that contained a deep pit where the corpses of those who failed the Emperor's rigorous indoctrination were discarded after they either died during the training or were executed for weakness and hesitation.

The servant did not look at the mounds of cadavers, but his breath came in shallow as they passed, and his pace quickened significantly. For someone who should be used to such death and decay, he could still not bring himself to gaze upon the slack jawed, milky eyed corpses that had been tossed aside so haphazardly. In the realm of the Immortal Emperor life was a commodity that held little value to the Lord of the Dead, who held a sick fascination with life and death, and it was rumored that deep below the walls of the castle he practiced vile experiments with black magic, specifically necromancy, to further his mastery over the barriers between life and death.

If you listened hard enough in the dead of night, some swear you could hear the bloodcurdling wails of the mutilated and malformed.

But those were the rumors, anyways. No one dared to speak of them openly, especially not within earshot of the Emperor's silent guards, the towering monstrosities in hooded cloaks who prowled the castle grounds with vibroaxe in hand, it's blade sometimes coated with the dried blood of those who had displeased the Emperor in one way or another. The servant always went out of his way to give them a wide berth, and he never looked at them directly. Those unblinking orbs of fiery red hidden within the darkness of the hoods sent shivers down his spine, and made him nauseous. Despite being driven physically ill by the Emperor's foul minions, he could not shake the unwavering devotion he had to his Lord, despite all the atrocities that were committed in his name, he could not break his loyalty.

And that is what brought both of them to an eerily vacant corner of the courtyard, where the Emperor himself stood in all his fiendish splendor, garbed from head to toe in black banded armor marked with the sigils of his house and his Empire both. His crown was gone, but his long gray-black hair had been bound up in a ponytail that still draped down past his neck. His mouth split into a horrid grin as he watched the servant and Maja approach, and with a wave of his hand he dismissed the fair-faced servant, who disappeared into the darkness as quick as a flash, leaving the young Sith alone with the Dark Lord of Panatha. His eyes brimmed with hellfire, and he raised both hands in a welcome.

"Now we begin the true training."

[member="Maja Vern"]