H-16 – seems as good a place as any…

[Darth Zilti]

Maja was not used to silence. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, she hates peace and would typically fill any available space with the sound of her own voice. But a combination of her weariness and the boy’s reticence to speak meant that she oddly respected his choice to remain quiet.

So now the sound of their footsteps, or breathing, was the only noise to be heard as they travelled in the tower. Many times her mouth opened but she closed it just as quickly.

Finally they reached a lift and once inside she closed her eyes. She still had a background headache and her body, though rested and soothed by the bath, was feeling the effects of yesterday’s demonstration. She couldn’t call it training or a lesson. No, it was a clear and unequivocal exhibition of the power of the Dark-side. How one can command it so clearly and another merely craves it. And boy did she yearn to have the sort of power to command that the Sith Lord had displayed.

And she reflected that she might just have to keep her temper and her smart mouth in check. It was natural but it was also counter-productive. Here she came to learn some of the ways of the Sith, not to show how quick her banter was. Yes, she was sure her strong-will was an asset, but she needed to find a different way for it to manifest itself.

As they travelled down, she considered he Sith Code. She’d read it but had no formal training. She’d had glimpses from that odd connection to her saber crystal – she knew instinctively what it meant, but she could be wrong as far as she knew.

‘Through passion, I gain strength, through strength, I gain power.’ She could feel the Dark-side building within her, growing in intensity until she could almost feel its heat. ‘Only the strong survive, and the Force will make me strong.’

She reflected on the Sith Lord she was no doubt being led to. She realised she was wary of him now – wary, but not afraid. The only thing she was afraid of was failure.

The lift finally stopped and the doors opened. The servant seemed to quicken and she followed him down a series of corridors until they reached the upper ramparts of the lower castle. Below was a large courtyard where several dozen Epicanthix men and women were training. She paid them no heed. As she travelled down a flight of steps, there came a fresh smell. The scent of rain was replaced by something pungent and disconcerting. She soon saw the source of the stench. Putrid tissue loosely attached to corpses.

She sensed a change in the servant but maintained the silence. Clearly this bothered him and she could only speculate as to the things he must have witnessed in his time here. She had no sympathy or even empathy but that didn’t mean she had to draw attention to his emotional state. It served no purpose…yet.

Finally she arrived at the courtyard herself. It was empty and there stood the imposing figure of the Sith Lord. Even those unable to sense his power would be intimidated by his physical presence. To face him on a battlefield, knowing his true potential must be a huge psychological factor. Maja figured she either needed to be underestimated or find a way to be imposing herself if she were to truly develop into a Sith that was going to challenge the Jedi. Mediocrity was not an option.

She gazed at his black banded armour, in stark contrast to her own dress now. Somehow image seemed important and she almost felt like she wasn’t a Sith in these garments that had been given to her. It was clearly untrue yet she once more made a mental note how appearance played such an important part in the mind games that accompanied the fight against the Jedi.

And then she was alone with the Dark Lord of Panatha. The servant was there one second and gone the next – no doubt delighted to leave. She stared into his eyes. Wary? Yes. Afraid? No.

“Now we begin the true training.”

She nodded and acknowledgement. “I am ready.” Her tone was conciliatory. There was no hint of petulance or bravado there now. He was the Master and she knew her place.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"We shall see." The Dark One said as he crossed both of his arms in front of his muscular chest, armored plates clinking with the movement as they slide up against one another. At his side was a sword crafted from volcanic glass, a blade as black as the void of space but with a slick and shiny sheen along the blade's edge, and with a single hand he plucked it from his side and passed it to the apprentice through use of the Force. The blade floated across the empty expanse between them before embedding itself into the stone of the courtyard, the blade burying itself all the way to the hilt with a high-shrilled shink as it cut through stone like a hot knife through bantha butter. From the billowing expanse of his cloak he produced a secondary blade, and casually placed the tip of the blade into the ground to lean upon the hilt. His smile revealed nothing, neither did his body language, but his eyes did twinkle with hidden malevolent intent, although that could may have well been the natural byproduct of his cruelty and brutality.

"The weapon is an extension of one's body, a girl must know this to become a great warrior. You have some skill, but you lack the focused aggression of a Sith, and I shall teach you this. But first you must temper aggression with skill and discipline, for a warrior who lacks both shall have unfocused and sloppy aggression, and would be nothing bother than a raging berserker swinging his weapons wildly and with reckless abandon. And I have no need for a brute in you." He brought the blade to bear, and brandished it before Maja in the common opening stance of a sword-fighter. "All trainees, whether Sith or Jedi, learn the basic applications of Form I, Shii-Cho, for it is the foundation for all forms to come. I am surprised that you have not learned this Form already, instead moving on to Form III. A shame, truly; but I will rectify this oversight shortly. However; we must blind you first."

He raised his left hand up, and pointed his limp hand in Maja's direction, and in the blink of an eye something large and scaled in black emerged from the darkness of his robe. The creature opened it's mouth impossibly wide, and spat a thick stream of pale green liquid from it's fangs directly at Maja's eyes, the venom potent enough to blind her on contact with the eyes and send her into an agonizing fit of terrible pain, only truly fatal after roughly twenty hours with no treatment. Luckily for Maja, Vornskr had all the tools required to treat her of the venom, but he would only administer it once today's training was concluded. "The spit of an Amphistaff... distilled from pure agony one could say. It will blind you, and then eventually paralyze you... and then it will kill you. I have the power to save you, but first you'll have to prove the value of your life."

He chuckled, "So pick up your blade, girl. It's time."

[member="Maja Vern"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja stood and listened. Her spirit wasn’t broken by any stretch of the imagination but she’d already learned to temper it. There was a time and a place and here was most definitely not the place.

So she remained silent and watchful, aware that her bravado yesterday coloured every word she spoke today. She’d pushed him and who knew how much further she could go before he snapped? She for one did not want to find out – primarily because he could teach her so much.

Some of what he said made perfect sense to her, she instinctively knew what he was talking about. But as she’d never had a Master and her training was at best sporadic, most of what she knew she’d fallen into naturally. If he’d asked her to recite her formal training, Force Lightning and the third Form would have comprised the list. Her sister had taught her how to connect with the Force. Maja thought it was by accident, her sister would no doubt say by design – but facing a giant dragon without any training whatsoever was a rude awakening to life as a Sith. But it had broken the mental block she had with accessing her emotions, so on that level, it was a great success.

Perhaps she was daydreaming because one moment she was listening to him and the next she sensed something oppressive and serpentine come from his robes and in an instant her eyes felt as though they were on fire. Her hands went to them but to no avail. The initial agony abated slightly, but she was certainly still in considerable distress. His words gave little to no comfort. She was blind, even if she managed to find the sword, it was embedded in rock and then there was the small matter of fighting him again.

The anger in her rose now. Behind her closed lids, her irises morphed yellow and ringed crimson. She had the Force at her fingertips but no obvious means of using it.

“Quit laughing at me you frelling sadist.” Her voice was still measured but there was an underlying tone of anger. “I’m kriffing blind. How the kark do you expect me to find the frakking sword, let alone fight you with it?”

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"If you cannot pick up your sword then you will die, and I will find someone strong enough who can. It is that simple." He said in the same manner as if he were reading plain facts off of a list rather than speaking to someone who he had just blinded in the most brutal of ways. The smile was gone now from his face, replaced by a grim line of disappointment in the light of her words. "Pain is the enabler of the dark side, neophyte. If you cannot learn to draw upon your pain to find the solution to your dilemma, then you have only proven to waste my time on you. But if you can't bring yourself to pick up the sword then I guess I will just have to sit back, relax, and watch you slowly die. And then I can go and tell your sister of your absolute failure, and then feed your spoiled remains to the dogs because I'm damn well sure that after your pitiful performance she wouldn't even want your lifeless husk anymore than I would."

Yes, he was being very blunt and brutal, but his words held the truth and perhaps that would be the greatest motivator than death ever could be for Maja. Resting gently against the blade the Sith Lord watched to see what unfolded next with mild anticipation, his dull emerald eyes drinking in everything he saw. "So, it's up to you [member="Maja Vern"]. Will you think like a Sith, or will you be cast aside for another?"

 

[Darth Zilti]

His words stung – like her sister’s when she was on the god-forsaken ice planet. What was it with the Sith and instruction? But unlike that day when she’d completely lost the plot with her sister and unleashed a tirade of abuse, this time she was measured. Instead of blaming others, she decided to reflect on her own shortcomings.

Clearly he expected her to be able to achieve the task in hand, so she focused on the words he used. She had learned patience and exercised it now. After all, she had a whole day before she died!

The answer was clearly the Force and she knew how to access it, but not what to do with it. She had the power source but just needed the right tool to plug into it. So she considered the Force Abilities she’d heard of. In her limited experience, much of what she did was not delineated. It merged into an amorphous ‘lump’ that was simply using the Force.

Her eyelids still closed, she felt the Force flowing through her – all she needed to do was use it. And her immediate need was sight. Force Sight was something she’d heard of and so she grabbed at the Force and demanded it showed her where the sword was – but to no avail.

She needed to see and the Force had to be the key, so now she calmed herself again – but maintained her access to the anger the Sith Lord had engendered and rather than focus on the sword, she simply focused on her surroundings. She told the Force what she demanded and expected it to deliver. Slowly an image formed in her head. Like a radar – except it was three-dimensional and gave 360-degree vision. She was aware of walls and the floor. Of the giant of a man standing before her. His sword stood out against his outline – she was clearly sensing organics and inorganics separately. It was blurry but the longer she persevered, the better her focus became.

She sensed a Darkness in the Sith Lord’s presence as she viewed him – like an aura that sucked the Light and acted as if it were some black hole.

She didn’t even have to move her head to locate the sword and she stood a little tentatively – aware now that being temporarily blinded had once more knocked her off her feet. This was becoming all too familiar.

She moved to the sword and pulled at it with both hands but to no avail. Again, the Force had to be the solution. She left one hand on the hilt, her left, and once more used the Force as a tool – to remove the sword from the stone. There was an initial movement but then nothing. She did not despair but instead pulled on more of the Sith Lord’s words of scorn. Using her sister’s name against her! The sword moved now and suddenly it was as if it had been embedded in butter.

A sudden and wicked grin appeared on her face but it was gone as quickly as it came. In truth she’d accomplished the easy part. Facing the Sith Lord in combat was the true challenge.

“Don’t delay feeding the dogs on my account just yet,” she said. And she started to tap into the pain that was building in her eyes to fuel her use of the Force. “And never, ever write me off. One day you might regret it.” Was she being foolish? In truth she was beyond caring. He may be the Sith Lord but she was learning and would never, ever admit defeat. Perhaps it was in the genes?

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He smiled, "Now you're beginning to understand, but you have much to learn young neophyte." He continued to rest against the hilt of his blade lazily, his expression going from growing anticipation to a seemingly indifferent half-smirk with an even lazier stare. He made no move to engage her, he didn't even budge from his spot as the presence of another became suddenly clear. There came a great wrenching sound of metal on metal, and from the ramparts above dropped down a monster of a man garbed in overlapping layers of scaled mail topped by spiked pauldrons and wielding a large poleaxe gilded with dark blue steel overlapping dull silver. A scarlet cloak hung from his massive shoulders emblazoned with the symbol of a snarling Vornskr with fangs that dripped black ichor, and his entire head was covered by a flat-topped greathelm gilded in the same manner as his weapon.

Despite his intimidating appearance he was nothing but an automaton of flesh with no will save for that of the Dark Master guiding him and his mind was utterly blank, void of any shred of intelligence or independent thought. He slammed the pommel of his poleaxe into the cobbled stone and knelt before Vornskr in utter reverence, silently waiting for his master's order. "This is one of my Sentinels, neophyte. Created in the image of those Palpatine made to protect his sanctum on Byss, but not as powerful nor as fine-tuned sadly. Consider it an early prototype, the first of many to come, and now we shall test the ingenuity of my fleshcrafters on you, and your power on it." He nodded once and the Sentinel sprung into action, gripping the poleaxe with two hands and swinging it's bladed axe-head towards Maja in a wide horizontal arc that could cut a grown-man right in two if it connected.

The challenge had begun.

[member="Maja Vern"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja - given her lack of sight, was acutely aware of the sound of the creature that the Sith Lord had summoned. In her Force Sight, it was organic, but appeared as something different to the Sith Lord. Understanding the why, however, was not top of her list of priorities right now. Dealing with the pain and Darth Vornskr's challenge was way higher on the pecking order for her attention right now.

The longer she was in this state, the better her Force Sight was becoming and so, in her mind’s eye, she was the subtle contours of the creature’s form - and assumed it to be armour, which accounted for the metallic sound at least.

She was now focussed on the Sith Lord’s words, so when the Sentinel swung its blade towards her, she was fortunate it was in a wide horizontal arc. It was powerful but relatively slow. Even in this state, speed and flexibility were her two greatest weapons.

She practiced Soresu daily - endless repetitions of defensive postures, overhand strikes, parries, and counter-strikes. So she leaped backwards - always preferring the simple option to fancy footwork. And given she had no idea of how her sword would fare against this creature’s blade, she wanted to engage it on her own terms.

So she immediately lunged out with a simple overhand strike, expecting the inevitable quick parry that deflected the blow to the side. Instead of the crackle and hum of blades of pure energy crossing, there was a loud clang as the weapons clashed. Immediately they spun away from each other and resumed their ready positions.

In this act, Maja had accomplished two things. Firstly she understood the nature of his weapon - and secondly she was already pressing in a way that the Sith Lord had demanded. Live or die, she would do as instructed and impress the giant man currently being entertained by this fight.

So she rushed forward, her blade ascending diagonally from right to left in a long, swift arc. The Sentinel managed to redirect the impact with his own weapon, but lost his balance and stumbled back. She tried to press her advantage, her sword arcing up from left to right. Her opponent spun out of harm's way, back-pedalling surprisisngly quickly to create space. So she broke off the half-completed sequence and settled back into the ready position.

One of her latent abilities in the Force was Farseeing. It allowed her to anticipate and react to the moves of her foe. Against Vornskr, there was no advantage. But here, it was as if the creature was operating is slow-motion, telegraphing its moves.

So she kept her mind focused so he could use the Force to anticipate her opponent's moves, using a handful of familiar sequences, transitioning as smoothly as she could from the end of one sequence into the beginning of another, opening up a wider range of attack-and-defence combinations.

She was physically outmatched by the brute force of her opponent but knew she could not rely on the defensive style of Form III to keep her larger opponent's overpowering attacks at bay indefinitely. The Sith Lord demanded focused aggression.

Spinning her sword in a quick flourish, she leapt high in the air and came crashing down from above.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The monstrous amalgamation of flesh and wicked magicks was slow, yes, but it was methodical in it's approach and unrelenting in it's ferocity. Like a lumbering murderer from a slasher holo-flick, it said nothing and would take so much punishment only to rise again to kill whatever it was commanded to kill. In this case it was commanded to slay the smaller Sith Knight, and while there was no intelligent though lingering within the creature's mind, its thoughts turned to carnage and brutality. Spinning the pole-axe around its body it lashed out with surprising speed to jab and slash at the Sith with the bladed axe-head, keeping her away from it's center of body and on the defensive. The weapon, while cumbersome, was effective in a way similar to her Soresu defensive she had learned so much about in her attempts to emulate her idol, Zannah, and when she came in for the strike he simple gripped the center of the pole-axe's shaft and used it like a glaive to counter.

Her blade would collide with the dark steel handle of the weapon, to which the Sentinel would push against her momentum to send her back down towards the ground. Spinning his blade once again he allowed the weapon to slightly slip from his grasp, his fingers running along the lower length of the handle until it came to the spiked pommel, and then his grip would tightened again. Swinging the weapon around on the fulcrums of his body, he would spin the weapon in a wide arc around his body, creating a whirlwind of death as he closed in on the Sith.

All the while the Sith Lord watched, his eyes hungry for bloodshed.

[member="Maja Vern"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja was tempted to slip into Soresu at every twist and turn but knew that was not the aim of the lesson. She had to prove she could master the first Form but also be the aggressor. Which was a challenge given the goliath she faced.

She’d lost the momentum of the attack and the creature pressed its new found advantage. It was powerful but unlike the Sith Lord it had one Achilles heel – it lacked pace. And this was in many ways her strength. The fact she was fighting blinded was now immaterial, she’d been required to use Force Sight and now it felt entirely natural to her. But taking the fight to this creature was not something that was automatic to her – at least not yet.

Initially she focused on avoiding the pole-axe – which with momentum generated surprising speed to jab and slash at her. She felt her skin sliced on more than one occasion but pressed on – her pain threshold sufficient to ignore these cuts.

Then she was on her back and he was closing in – spinning his weapon in a wide arc – using his superior reach. Makashi or not, she needed to find a way of breaking this creature’s rhythm. She pulled at a small statue on the ramparts above their heads and threw it at the monster bearing down in her. In truth she tipped it over and gravity did the rest. Except the lump of stone merely bounced off the creature’s shoulder and if he felt it, he did a good job of ignoring it.

So instead of pursuing this option, she decided to negate his main advantage – his reach. Nimbly she dived forward into a somersault that brought her close enough to strike at his right side as she pivoted just enough so that the giant’s weapon missed her hip by less than a centimetre. For good measure she kicked him hard in the back as he lumbered past, a blow meant not to disable him, but to goad him on to further aggression.

When two skilled combatants engaged each other the blades moved so quickly it was impossible to think and react to each move. Her limited saber training had taught her to rely on instinct, guided by the Force and honed by hours and hours of training.

When the creature turned and came at her, he unleashed his next series of attacks. He was relentless and his blows came in a relentless barrage meant to overwhelm her defences.

Lightsaber battles were brutal in their intensity; few duels lasted more than a minute. As this thought flashed through her mind, she realised she was distracted and narrowly avoided the blade but could not avoid the pommel that glanced a blow off the side of her head.
Her vision was blurred with stars, pain shooting through her left side with each gasp as she tried to catch her breath. Of course the creature didn't let up, coming at her with a frenetic assault. The next few seconds were a blur as she relied purely on instincts honed over the past few years to parry the wave of blows, miraculously keeping him from landing a lethal strike.

But she recovered quickly, however, spinning out of the way when he followed up with a low, looping swipe meant to chop her off at the knees. She retaliated with a quick jab with the tip of her blade towards its face, but he ducked his head to the side and came back with a wide-arcing slash at chest level.

Finally she seized her moment. She was now working inside his reach and Maja intercepted his blade with one of her own, angling her weapon so that the momentum of his attack was redirected downward, sending the tip of his weapon into the stone underfoot. This should have exposed him to a counter-thrust, but he was already reacting to her move, driving his entire body forward into hers before she could bring her weapon up.

His weight slammed into her, knocking her back as he snapped his neck forward. She threw her head back just in time, and the head-butt that would have smashed her face glanced off her chin instead.

Scrambling to stay on her feet, she raised her weapon back up, so far she’d been able to intercept, parry, or deflect most of the blows and his approach was becoming predictable and ragged. Her style was simple, but regardless she was being driven back in a slow retreat, and she realized he was herding her toward the wall, hoping to pin her against the stone with no place to go. Maja was content to play along, taking quick, careful steps backward over the terrain as she began to gather her power. The key was subtlety. She couldn't him sense what she was doing or he would launch into another wild flurry of attacks, forcing her to focus all her energy on keeping him at bay. She had to give him the illusion he was controlling the action, when in fact she was only a few seconds away from unleashing a counter of her own.

He circled wide trying to come in on her left flank. She simply altered the angle of her retreat, taking several more steps backward to keep him at a safe distance as she swatted away a slash and a strike.

With her attention split between the enemy in front of her and her timing of a counter, Maja didn't notice how close she was to the statue she’d toppled earlier. Her heel caught on the uneven ground as she backed up, throwing her off balance as she fell awkwardly to the stone as she landed on her back.

He was on her in an instant, his weapon slashing viciously, his heavy boots kicking and stomping at her prone body. She thrashed and twisted on the ground, her sword flailing desperately to parry his blade. She felt a sharp crack as the toe of his boot caught her in the ribs, but she rolled with the impact and managed to end up back on her feet.

And then she struck. Gritting her teeth against the pain from her broken rib, she realised her survival had come with significant cost. She was tired now, the desperate scramble to escape after tripping had pushed her one step closer to physical exhaustion. She felt the broken rib with each ragged breath, and she sensed that the injury would make it harder for her to fight, limiting her effectiveness. She wanted to win – she wanted to live and that was all that mattered now.

Her control of the Force was largely instinctive. She knew she wouldn't survive another clash of weapons and so opening herself up to the power of the Dark-side, she reached out and touched the mind of the beast – her assault began as a sharp pain in his skull, like a hot knife stabbing directly into his brain before carving down to slice the two hemispheres in half. Then the knife exploded, sending a million burning shards in every direction. Each one burrowed into his subconscious, seeking out buried fears and nightmares only to rip them free and haul them to the surface.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The behemoth seemed to shrug off the mental attack, it's lobotomized brain harboring no fears or nightmares, it's entire existence being manipulated by the strings of the puppet master watching the exchange with a bemused smile. However; the creature did feel the agonizing pain of the attack anyways, and let loose a soundless screech from behind it's greathelm before lunging with its weapon in an attempt to cleave the young apprentice right in two. The dark master continued to watch them move back and forth, the sentinel a tireless monster driven by the will to eradicate whatever it was commanded to destroy and the young girl full of potential, intelligence, yet running out of juice as the fight began to wear on. This was the ultimate purpose of the creature, to become a vessel of pure single-minded annihilation to safeguard the Sith Lord's holdings, and keep them free of intruders.

Still, even from her position she should be able to see the gaps in the armor right at the armpit, elbow, and even the back of the knee. Instead of looking at the creature as a single construct, she should focus on the armor that covered it's fleshy body. While most of it was completely covered, there were chinks in the armor at the joints which made for the creature's central weakness. He reached out to [member="Darth Zilti"] through the force, his voice wafting over her mind like the remnants of a phantom's whisper:

"You think too big, girl. No armor is impenetrable. Look a little closer."​

​

That was the only advice he would give her, and somehow he knew that despite her lack of success against the titan thus far she would finally look past the veil and exploit the deliberate weakness. What mattered now was if she could act on it in time before the titan got in a lucky strike and spilled her precious fluids all over the courtyard, ending the promising beginnings of what could become a great and powerful Sith. A part of him wanted to see her succeed (the part of him that hungered for the return of Sith galactic dominance), while another primal part only wanted to see her be cut down, to smell the blood on the air as her body was ripped to blood shreds by the sentinel's weapon.

No matter what happened, some part of him would be moderately satisfied.

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja wasn’t sure what she was supposed to have achieved – but simply making the creature angrier wasn’t top of her list of options if she was afforded a choice.

It started well enough…the creature’s anguished cries a positive start but clearly she’d over-estimated its mental prowess. It was most likely an unthinking killing-machine – operating on primal instincts. And the one foremost in its mind today appeared to be her death.

She knew she was running out of strength – both physically and with the Force. And she could hardly blame the creature – it was doing what it was both good at and what it was here to do – its Master’s bidding to destroy anyone who shouldn’t be here.

But Maja wanted to be here and did her best to calm her thoughts as she valiantly defended against its onslaught. She’d forgotten she was using Force Sight, so natural was it already to her.

‘You think too big, girl. No armour is impenetrable. Look a little closer.’

‘But you still haven't told me what to do!’ she mentally shouted at him.

‘Pfft…’

“And you can shut up too!”

Of course the Sith Lord didn't reply. He'd given her the answer, though she didn't know it yet. If she was worthy of being his Apprentice, she'd have to figure it out.

If he was focused on her actions, he would have felt a sudden surge of power rushing toward the creature, concentrated on the joints of the elbows and knees. No one attack was lethal but it would be like being stung by a swarm of bees. Each attack adding more debilitating pain to the last.

She surmised the Sith Lord had expected some kind of reaction the moment he'd communicated with her. He'd pushed her to the edge; and would no doubt have been disappointed if she had done nothing.

A focused series of strikes against a small chink in the armour was subtle. She hoped it showed intelligence and cunning, and the strength of her attack may have surprised him. And she followed up the attacks with her saber – now parrying the titan’s blade to the outside to allow her access to the point she aimed for – the creature’s armpits. The attacks so far would pain it, slow it and readdress the current imbalance of the fight. But she needed to land a killing blow – or at least look to sever or severely mutilate the creature’s arms – and an upward strike through the underarm should certainly do the latter.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Soon enough with enough strikes the Sentinel would be felled, the chinks in between the armor segments being exploited by [member="Darth Zilti"] to her advantage at last, and soon enough the monstrosity would fall to its knees in defeat. A final strike would send it crumbling to the ground, and after a short spasm the left would leave it forever. Thanks to the magic used in creating the beast, it would deteriorate at a rapid pace, flesh decaying before her very eyes as the armor became vacant. The Sith Lord would only respond with a short clap, his face once again impassive as he strode up to where Maja was standing to congratulate her. "Despite your earlier... difficulties, you performed well, neophyte. I think we can make something out of you still... But that is all for today. Return to your chambers at once." He began to turn away, when he cast a glance back towards her; "Oh, I had my servants refurbish the room." He added, "They did, however; leave you a set of tomes that you are required to study extensively. They're filled with Sith history and philosophy, and they will further your knowledge."

He then left her in the courtyard, alone, bruised and beaten. She would have to find her way back up to her bedchamber, which had been refurbished as he had said earlier, but his definition of refurbishing might have been vastly different than her own. By that he meant that he had his servants strip the room bare of luxuries and grandiose furniture, and left only an uncomfortable cot with a dull wooden table in the very middle of the room. Atop that table would be the tomes that Vornskr mentioned, large unwieldy books bound in hard leather whose pages were yellowed with age, and depicted gruesome imagery alongside the uncouth and blasphemous text. These were to be her bibles, her lexicons of the Dark Side of the Force, and her only companions save for the sheepish eunuch servant that occasionally came to visit her with meager food and drink.

For several months they would meet again and again in the courtyard, Vornskr drilling the young Maja on her lightsaber technique and improving her conception and grasp on the Force. First he would instruct her in Form I, Shii-Cho, the very basic fundamental groundwork for lightsaber combat, and the bedrock on which all subsequent forms were built upon. Then came Form II, and Form III, Form V, and finally Form VI. He did not tutor her in Form IV because frankly he had now knowledge of the form himself, as his massive muscular body did not benefit from acrobatics enough to make the form practical, so he taught her what he knew. At the end of each session Maja would find herself covered in bruises and cuts, the result of going toe-to-toe with a master such as Vornskr in training with swords, and while they may have been dulled they could still cut flesh with enough application. Each one would remind her of her failure to keep his blade from kissing her skin, but as time progressed she would find that the number of cuts adorning her skin would diminish as her skill improved.

They would not see or speak to each other outside of their brutal sessions together in the courtyard, and often the Sith Lord would depart Panatha for Imperial business in the Empire they both were obedient servants of. Usually he would attend a meeting of his peers on the throneworld of Coruscant, but other times he would be fighting the hated Republic on some world smack dab on the Imperial-Republic border out in the Colonies, or even off on some secret agenda deep in the chaotic and uncolonized Unknown Regions. He would sometimes bring her new reservoirs of ancient knowledge, a minor holocron or dusty old book he pilfered from some far-flung tomb or long lost library, usually discovered by his vast network of collection agents that scoured all known planets for anything pertaining to the Force. More often than not they would find some repository of Light side knowledge, usually pertaining to the Jedi, to which would be put to the torch by his orders as he sought to purge all Jedi culture from the galaxy by any means necessary. Those writings about the Dark Side he would collect, and then process each item later to determine if it fell in accordance with the philosophy of the One Sith, and if it didn't it too was deemed heretical and annihilated.

However; for several weeks he had been absent from castle on some errant or another, and when he did finally return he sent his servants to go and collect Maja from her chambers, and bring her back to the throne room where their first meeting had taken place.

 

[Darth Zilti]

It took most of her remaining effort but she managed to defeat the Sentinel, it crumbled to the ground, and after a short spasm she could see flesh decaying before her very eyes. She wanted to flop onto the ground, she was so exhausted but a combination of her own pride and an instinctive thought to hide her tiredness meant she stood upright. Defiant.

The Sith Lord responded with a short clap, his face impassive. But his words were encouragement. For the first time she’d gained a glimmer of praise and it was all the more powerful because of it.

And she was delighted to be dismissed, although again showed nothing. She was a con-artist after all. She knew when to play and when to fold. She had few cards and knew when to play them. Stoicism was called for now. And the opportunity to study was actually welcomed. She was something of an expert on Zannah but other Sith she knew nothing about – and her view on the Sith philosophy was entirely one-dimensional. It wasn’t that she would fight against Zannah and bane’s teachings but the Rule of Two ended for a reason. Different times called for different measures.

The fact the room had been refurbished was lost on her. Until she dragged her weary body back to where she had slept the night before. If the contrast was stark, it was not entirely disheartening. She’d spent the majority of her life with nothing, not even having a bed to call her own, but the use of a bedroll when it wasn’t being slept on by someone else. Thank heavens for shifts she used to think.

So she studied and filled in the gaps around her knowledge. She understood now why the Rule of Two came into being and why it ultimately ended. And she studied the use of the Dark-side, putting names to the Abilities she’d innately used without understanding why or how.

And the rations were paltry yet often were taken away untouched, such was her devotion to her studies. And she practised whenever she could. And on the rare occasion she sought escape, she lay on her uncomfortable bed and connected with her sister. It was like eavesdropping but she felt no guilt. Images, emotions and thoughts came her way. She wanted to cry out and seek her sister’s approval but held back. Her time for growing up was not now. Not for a long time.

And the lessons became even more informative. She couldn’t say easier – that would be a lie – for she was pushed to her extremes. Every time she made progress, the bar would be raised out of reach. For a short while it would appear impossible to attain and then she’d be pressed until she made metaphorical contact, only for that bar to be lifted once more. Such was the steady yet immeasurable progression that she had no way of telling how far she’d come. She only looked forwards, not backwards.

And she learned so many of the Forms. The fourth was skipped and the seventh was no doubt inappropriate. In truth she still preferred the third, but not as an out and out defensive approach – but rather to be able to work in the use of the Force. And she could use the fifth when she wanted to counter rather than sit back and soak up pressure. It made her less one-dimensional.

And the progress was long and felt slow. She felt he didn’t hold back and so was quietly pleased when each week passed and the cuts and bruises diminished in frequency and size. He was her better in pure saber combat and always would be no doubt – but when she would be able to ally her natural Ability to use Sith magic too…then she might present a real challenge to him.

For this period she remained cut-off from the outside world. When he left, she took advantage and took to space. Not to go anywhere, but to simply get off this rock. She found it uncomfortable to remain planet-side for too long. A sort of land-sickness. It only took a few hours to make her feel better and then she’d be back. It was a repetitive regime but it was what she wanted. What she’d scoured the galaxy for. And for that she was grateful.

Even during the times he was here, she spent no time with the Sith Lord outside of their lessons. Oddly she expected it when she arrived but over time wished she could converse with him on a subject other than her apprenticeship. Or anyone really. She’d taken to talking to the servant that seemed to have been assigned to her. Or to the voice in her head – Zannah she hoped (as the alternative was to admit she was mad).

But when he was away and she practised alone, she felt like a small girl, awaiting her father’s return with some present brought back from his travels. A minor holocron here, an old tome there. Each was snaffled like a prize teddy-bear or new doll. The gift was different but the emotion the same.

And teddy-bears didn’t teach you how to use the Dark-side. Well…there was one Ewok, but she suspected that didn’t count.

His latest departure was longer than usual. She never asked and he never said. Curiosity was entirely unhealthy for the cat and Maja had learned that anything the Sith Lord wanted to share – well he would, without bidding.

Finally she was summoned to the throne room where they’d first met. So she dutifully left the book she was studying and made her way immediately to meet him, almost tripping over the servant walking in front of her, such was her eagerness to get there.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The massive doors shaped from blackened stone would open wide, two parallel lines of Crownguard bordering the pathway leading to the jagged throne of the Butcher King. The Dark Master in question sat upon the abominable seat, his body wrapped in the familiar black cloth and banded armor she was so accustomed to seeing him in, and a crown of onyx and ruby sat atop his pallid brow. Once inside the two guards would close the door, each one of them pulling the individual doors shut with some effort. Once their task was done they shrunk back into the shadows lurking at the borders of the Panathan Emperor's throne chamber, silent guardians ever watchful of those who enter their master's gloomy domain. At her approach Vornskr rose from his throne, and walked down to greet her much like he did during their first meeting. "Maja Vern. You have grown... evolved under my guidance into a blossoming Sith, and your time with me is nearing the end."

"However."

The Sith Lord raised up a hand to stifle any questions or noise that might come from Maja, and then reached into his opposite robe sleeve to reveal an ornate sacrificial dagger bedazzled with jewels and ornate inscriptions written in an ancient and heretical language only spoken by those with the knowledge and insight to divine the ancient scriptures of the long-dead Sith civilization. "Before you can truly call yourself Sith, you must be baptized in the blood of the innocent." He gestured to the faithful servant who had waited on her hand-and-foot, listened to everything she had to say, and had been her only living companion throughout this entire ordeal. "The boy was chosen from a young age to serve me, stripped of his identity and manhood he has been ordained to give his life when needed. And so I gift you this dagger, to cut away the heart of the unspoiled and drink deep from its scarlet well."

He extended the dagger towards her, his face emotionless as if it was made out of the dark metal that comprised his grisly seat of power. The servant, however; showed brief panic and total dread for a moment when he realized that the master he had served for so long (and so faithfully) had basically ordered his execution. After that all emotion drained from his face, and he seemed almost serene as he resigned himself to his fate without a whimper of fear or begging.

He simply replied; "I gladly give my life for the master, and for you, Lady Vern."

[member="Darth Zilti"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

Maja marvelled at the sight when she entered the room. Previously they’d met one-on-one (if you discounted servants and terrible creatures designed to kill and/or test her that was).

Two parallel lines of Crownguard bordered the pathway leading to the jagged throne that the Sith Lord was sitting in. Again this was not usual and Maja had a sense of foreboding. Had she offended him? She could think of no reason why he’d think that…unless you counted her short trips into space. But it wasn’t like she went anywhere, just off-world and then back again. She needed it for her health and sanity.

But she’d learned the hard way not to second-guess him, so waited to see what he was about to say.

"Maja Vern. You have grown... evolved under my guidance into a blossoming Sith, and your time with me is nearing the end."

Her stomach leaped and her spirits sank.

"However."

If she was conflicted, it was for the briefest of moments. She took the dagger and faced the young man. Her only constant companion since she’d been here.

For a split second she was transported to Ambria. She knew the lesson Zannah had learned, one she’d mimicked when teaching herself patience. She suspected the Sith Lord would have anticipated she would develop a fondness for the servant. But she was wiser than the girl she once was. She had foreseen this – not through the Force but by simple deduction and observation.

She viewed the young man simply as a tool – something to be used then tossed aside – rather than allowing herself to become emotionally attached. So would feel no pain over his death. Her only allegiance was to her Master.

She looked at the dagger and then at the Sith Lord. "I see you decided to see if I needed another lesson today, Master."

Without warning, she plunged the blade into the young man’s chest, the tunic he wore bloomed scarlet and his body swayed. Maja held him on the shoulder, to steady him, and stared into his eyes. Then she twisted the knife and meticulously cut away at the heart, using the Force to compensate for the ribs that would otherwise defy the blade.

She sank to the ground at the same pace as the servant, their motions mirrored. Finally he was on his knees and Maja had balanced him such that he sat there, eyes wide open but motionless – quite bereft of life.

Using her fingers as some makeshift cup, she scooped out blood and drank. "Through passion, I gain strength," she said, reciting from the Code of the Sith. "Through strength, I gain power." She could sense the Dark-side building within her, growing in intensity until she could almost feel its heat.

"You died because you are weak," she said to the still kneeling corpse. "Only the strong survive, and the Force will make me strong."

Finally the body toppled over and Maja stood, her face and clothes smeared with the blood of the boy, the crimson and viscous liquid now pooling beneath his corpse and under her feet.

“I am a seeker, not a shepherd,” she said to her Master as she faced him. He would recognise the words of Yuthura Bari, for he had given her the text to read. And she bowed to him, a single moment that represented an acknowledgement of all he’d taught her. For she knew her journey would continue – but with another. The ‘who’ was yet to be decided, but her thirst for sorcery was unquenched and she would simply seek the best and drink from their well of knowledge until it was dry.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Excellent... Your training under my tutelage is now complete, and you rise from the wastes baptized in the sheen of innocent blood." He rose, and the Crownguard previously hiding in the shadows revealed themselves and bowed instantly, falling to one knee in obedience whilst simultaneously activating their lightsaber pikes. Vornskr descended the steps to once again stand before Maja, the Dark Side swelling in jubilation as he withdrew his lightsaber and activated it's blade. He then proceeded to pass his blade from Maja's right shoulder to her left, letting the blade sizzle into the fabric and flesh for a moment before moving on, and once he pulled back his weapon she was effectively knighted.

"Rise Maja Vern, rise as Darth Zilti."

He deactivated his lightsaber, and stepped back a step as the Dark Side seemed to coalesce itself in Maja, her knighting now complete and her power now strengthened under Vornskr's brutal training. "Rise now as a Sith."

[member="Darth Zilti"]

 

[Darth Zilti]

She was stoic as her Master knighted her. The moments of pain were nothing compared to the feeling of accomplishment and — if she was honest, the words of praise.

She rose as instructed and felt liberated. Her training was not complete but this phase was. She arrived a weak Acolyte and left a Sith Knight. Her transformation was nothing short of remarkable.

She nodded to Darth Vornskr. “As is the way of our Order. An individual may die but the Sith are eternal. There are those with power, those with the strength and will to lead. And there are those meant to follow – those incapable of anything but servitude and a meagre, worthless existence. You have given me the tools to lead and to use my power. For that I am grateful and shall build on what I have learned until I too become a Lord of the Sith.”

She nodded again and departed the hall, never looking back. Memories were a funny thing, she’d remember the learning, not the brutal aspects of the training she’d endured. Her head was held high. She arrived as Maja. She left as Darth Zilti.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]