Private Nine, Plus Ten || Crysis

[Darth Metus]

UNKNOWN LOCATION - PRESENT DAY

The pyramid had existed for a lifetime.

It was ironic how different the Galaxy was when the device was "born." At the moment of its conception, a shaky stalemate ruled the cosmos. The first Sith Empire since the Gulag Plague held its blade at the throat of the Galactic Republic. And in turn, the cradle of democracy held a blaster to its adversary's stomach. Neither side was daft enough to move first, for that would spell the end for both. It was in these tense days that a Mandalorian was thoroughly encouraged to join the enemies of his people. When given the choice between death and a chance at vengeance, the warrior chose the latter. Chose to throw in with a rebellious cell of Sith who aimed to unseat their unfit liege. Chose to avenge the blood feud that raged between Mandalore and Dromund Kaas by toppling the Emperor.

In those days, it mattered not if it cost him everything. Revenge was worth any price, even his soul. So it was that a young Isley Verd first knelt before the Darkness. He learned, for the first time, how to twist the Force to his will. How to dominate. How to create. Soon, the ambitions of the rebel cell were realized; but Isley had become addicted. Vengeance was but a sip: a taste of what the Darkness offered. And like a parched animal, Isley drank from the chalice evermore. He took his fledgling understanding of Alchemy and ran forth, intent on pushing the Dark Side to its very limits.

And as the young alchemist experimented, he documented his first findings within a crimson pyramid. A relic meant to house the memory of young ambitions. A piece that had been lost to time and forgotten - until now.

Whether it be by fate, chance, or the will of the Dark Side itself, the holocron ended up in the possession of one Crysis . Even being within the proximity of the relic would inspire...curiosity. Inspire hunger. There was so much power waiting within - all one had to do was reach out and seize it.​

Crysis​

 

[Crysis]

Crysis washed the blood from her hands, hoping her dark deed tonight would've gone unnoticed, and unpunished. After their little mission it was actually one of her peers that had found it, though Crysis could sense it... Sense what wonders were within, while also not being able to sense anything at all. Curiosity, a looming sense of desire clouded the air around it. And so, after asking nicely for a trade, Crysis resorted to... Less than savory methods to get what she wanted. She could feign ignorance, having used a Vibro-blade, rather than her sabers.

'She was right behind me'

That's what she said, even as there was blood figuratively, and literally on her hands. She should've just given it up... The looks they gave her was the dead giveaway. They all didn't trust her. And she didn't give a chit. This life wasn't for the faint of heart, and if that girl was foolish enough to turn her back on Crysis while gloating about her prize, why shouldn't Crysis take it? Well, it was all in the past now.

She finished washing the dried blood from under her fingernails, turning and stomping out of her refresher in her sleeping clothes, a pair of short shorts, with a simple top, akin toa sports bra. Her uneven lekku moving with the effort. She would first move to close, and lock her door, then move to retrieve the blood red pyramid she had looted from her once ally. Just holding it brought a smile to her lips, and she walked as she used both hands to hold it, observing it with near obsession.

She had used holocrons before, and her a basic idea of how they worked; as such, would move to rest it on the table in the center of her room and sit criss-cross in front of it. She closed her eyes at first, then opened them while raising both hands in its direction, lightly using the Force to nudge the object. She couldn't wait to see what knowledge laid within.

Darth Metus

 

[Darth Metus]

UNKNOWN LOCATION - PRESENT DAY

The Pyramid stirred.

Like a moth drawn to the inferno, the first law of Darkness was obeyed. To those who contorted the Force to their will, there was no such thing as charity of benevolence. To call one's self Darth was a challenge to the stars. To walk as they walked meant to take, rather than rely on the kindness of others. So it was that Masters of the Black took apprentices, snatching the meek in the name of legacy. So it was that the apprentices took power and bared their fangs at the Galaxy.

Now, the one called Crysis had taken the Pyramid.

The kill was not lost upon the gatekeeper within. The shedding of blood for the sake of knowledge was a fitting enough sacrifice. A test was passed, unknowingly. Thus, when the presence of the Force nudged the pyramid's form, crimson light illuminated its features. The surrounding air would take on a new weight, burdened by the advent of darkness. A projection ascended, taking form as an armored being. From behind a T-visor did a reflection of Darth Metus' past look upon the present.

"What do you seek, oh bearer mine?"

A simple question - but one that was as burdened as the air they shared. One that was as deep as the Darkness itself. What were the ambitions of the one who killed for power?

And were these ambitions worthy enough?​

Crysis​

 

[Crysis]

She was admittedly surprised by the apparition, never having seen a holocron behave like this. Before it was like a spoken voice, but here it felt more real. This thing that had shown itself felt as though it may have had substance. Presence, even. And it had a question for her? For a brief moment, she wondered if this device was beyond her means, but quieted her uncertainty. It had responded, and it was hers now. She would grasp whatever knowledge she could.

"I seek power... The power to crush those that oppose me..."

Crysis would lower her hands than, resting them gently against her crossed legs. Most interestingly enough to her, was that this apparition had taken the outwards appearance of what she presumed to be a Mandalorian. While she had heard many stories of these T-visors, she had never actually met a Mandalorian... It was intriguing.

"And knowledge, ancient knowledge that will make me stronger, more adaptable. I desire to be the strongest..."

She answered honestly, and plainly. Cautiously watching the apparition, and yet not becoming defensive at its elevated position. One of the earliest lessons of her training was what would happen would happen, made no sense to ball up if it became hostile suddenly, she would simply react. Though her heartbeat had begun thudding just a bit harder. Somehow, she felt as though she was doing something she shouldn't have been, practicing, and studying in secret, away from her Masters eyes.

Although some part of her believed she did this for him as well, to be more useful to him.

Darth Metus

 

[Darth Metus]

UNKNOWN LOCATION - PRESENT DAY

Power? Knowledge?

Ice.

A chill that could reach the bone emanated from the projection. The voice was metallic: the utterance tinged by the beskar helm which obscured his face. The reflection of Darth Metus was laughing. Deep chuckles wracked his form whilst his arms folded across his chest. The visor looked down upon the seeker, judgment burning in his eyes.

"How...original." he began, shaking his head.

"Every noble wishes to be King. Every Mandalorian wants to be Mand'alor. And every child of darkness wishes to be the strongest. Power? Knowledge? What you seek...is like wanting water to be wet."

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

"So I ask you this - why? Why power? Why be the strongest?"

The ambitions uttered were fleeting. They were outcomes. Common among those who worshipped the Dark. Every Sithling wanted these things, to the letter. And so, they were not worthy. Here, the woman had an opportunity to set herself apart. To look beyond the base and unoriginal. To truly ask herself the question why she did what she did. Why did she seek power? Why was she willing to kill for it?

Perhaps then, oh reader mine, she could begin.​

Crysis​

 

[Crysis]

Why? That question didn't sit well with her. Neither did the chilling feeling that seemed to permeate her bones. Why did she want that outcome? For a brief moment, fury coursed through her veins; why did she need to explain herself to a... Likely dead man. Why? Crysis thought of the question Irregardless. Listened to the analogy uttered and understood how trivial this was. It was so true she almost felt stupid for saying it... Everyone wanted to be the best at what they did. Even if they didn't admit it outright. But why did Crysis want power?

The image flashed in her mind, something from when she was a child. Back when she wasn't Crysis, but Shalaa Se, a name that she remembered, but did a good job of repressing each day...

The image of her Father answering the door and being ran through with a blood red saber. Her Mother's worried face as she rushed to hide Crysis... Suddenly removed, twisted out of place as her head left her frame, thudding to the floor... And her, not crying, but too terrified to move. Standing there and doing nothing. Leaving that place and watching with the man who murdered her parents as her home burned to the ground.

She drew in a terribly pained breath, eyes closing, then reopening, glaring at the apparition. She moved to a knee, then stood to her feet, though she wasn't sad, a single tear rolled from her eye.

"I do not wish to be a victim, to anyone... I want to protect myself, against any that would cause me harm. As I said... I want to crush anyone that would seek to destroy me."

She reiterated her answer, anger swelling in her heart, but not spilling over, not yet.

"Because this galaxy is dog eat dog, and I refuse to be eaten... I choose to be hunter, not prey. And FOR that, I desire to be the strongest. I will be the strongest..."

She said again, though her wording had changed this time, as did the resolve within her voice.

Darth Metus

 

[Darth Metus]

The projection clapped his hands.

"Good. Good. This is much better." he remarked, before motioning towards her. "You must never forget the true reason for seeking power, or else you will drown in it. The Dark Side is a reflection of the Galaxy: it will consume you if you are weak."

The reflection of Darth Metus had made his decision. This one was worthy of what he had to offer. "What I have to teach you is Alchemy. It is the foundation of a true walk into the Dark Side. The greatest Sith of the Galaxy have mastered this art - and it is the engine that builds Empires."

"Alchemy is the ability to twist creation to your whims. You can create a shield that never breaks, an arrow that always finds its mark, beasts which defy nature, and so much more."

He paused, looking about their space.

"Do you have a knife?"

The next several hours were spent conferring an introduction to the tenets of Sith Alchemy. How to use the Force to witness at an atomic level. How to manipulate genes and traits in the living, and how to modify the inanimate. At the end, the holocron simply closed and would refuse to open once more for quite some time.​

Crysis​