The Home

[Darth Ayra]

The Home​

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| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra stood before a panel of transparisteel, eyes following the drifting asteroids as they floated by. She was waiting for JN-4 to meet with her. They had much to discuss. She knew now that the clone she had found on Duro now wanted to kill her and that was good because the prerequisite for their relationship- as Master and Apprentice- required her to have it within her to kill Darth Ayra when it was time. But now, it was time to deliver the means of how JN-4 would achieve her ultimate objective of surpassing her Master in the ways of the Force. But whilst she waited for her Apprentice to join her, Ayra would watch the asteroids, knowing that beyond laid a Galaxy that would fall to her machinations, and in that knowledge, she found a twisted sense of calm that was borne out of the one lesson that her own Master had managed to install her: patience.

It had been a standard week since the escapade on Korriban, during which she had pushed herself and her new Apprentice to their limits. They had been fortunate to survive, and the pilgrimage to the Sith homeworld had proven costly, but inconsequential things, such as wealth or the Initium, did not matter in comparison to what the Dark Lord had discovered. She had found a true successor to her legacy and that was worth the cost of a mere transport and the credits that would be required to salvage and repair it. Making several arrangements since leaving Korriban, Darth Ayra had used her contacts in the Black Tie Syndicate to arrange the salvation of the Initium. Arranging for the ship to be smuggled out of Horuset system, beneath the prying nose of the Silver Sanctum, the wreck would be brought to Formos- far enough to avoid the notice of the Silver Jedi- and into the protective hands of the Purple Rejects, an organization of gangsters who effectively owned Secter 3, who happened to work for the Dark Lord under the guise of Alicia Drey.

In the seclusion of the MZX32905 system, Darth Ayra would bring JN-4 further into the tapestry that she herself had been woven into. Whilst they delved deeper into the mysteries of the dark side, she knew that the Initium would be ready for use by the time they were finished. It wasn't by accident that they were on the other side of the Galaxy. She had chosen the MZX32905 system for a few select reasons. The first laid within the fact that her predecessor, Darth Vectivus, had once operated here. Sentimentality was a weakness that Darth Ayra did not have. If she were sentimental, then she would not have ended her own Master when the opportunity had arisen. No, like Vectivus before her, she knew of the deep pocket of dark energy that sat within the asteroid known as the Home and she intended to use it as he had done before her. What Vectivus had discovered here now belonged to her- as did everything that every Sith Lord had discovered, created or founded during their time- and so Ayra saw the Home as her inheritance, which she had now collected.

If it were not for Pandeima and the surveys she had launched on behalf of Subach-Innes, where she had looked for minerals to be mined and sold, then Ayra would never have known about MZX32905 system, the Home and the connection they both shared with Vectivus, who too followed the Rule of Two. In conjunction with her own studies into the history of the Order of the Sith Lords, Ayra had connected the surveys that Subach had collected. The Home wasn't only just a reservoir of dark side energy, but it also held minerals and ores that were not considered valuable for mining. She had followed the clues left behind by the texts and volumes that Pandeima had collected, using the surveys as a direction to the MZX32905 system, and when she had arrived, she had felt the power within the asteroid. Thus, she had the Skyhook she now stood on- and where she had taken herself and JN-4 to recover- constructed on the Home, so that the Sith had the facility that required for their work.

The nature of the work, that both she and JN-4 would undertake, required subtly, secrecy and seclusion from the prying eyes of their enemies. The MZX32905 system was secluded. It held no planets, moons or even a sun, making it an undesirable star system for most. Other than the dark energy found within the Home, the seclusion that the MZX32905 system provided Darth Ayra and her apprentice was a resource that meant more to them than Cortosis. Here, they could go about their business undisturbed by the Jedi Order or the false dichotomy of Sith Lords. Instead, they could plant the seeds toward their destruction, without them ever knowing and that brought a small smile to Darth Ayra as she thought about it.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Unsure of what was real or not on Korriban, Joon had remembered the Jedi trying to help her, and then remembered seeing Ayra. And then, nothing. She woke up in a dark room lit with numerous ivory lights, and for a second she thought she was waking up from a dream, safe in the cloning chambers on Duro.

But coming too, she knew it was real. All of it.

Her heart rate was being monitored and she could hear the vital signs beeping away beside her bed. She didn’t need to look anywhere except up at the black ceiling. She knew she was somewhere different; another ship, or a secret chamber, or a fort. She wasn’t home.

She was with Ayra.

Fingers curled on the bedsheets and her breathing seethed from dry lips. She was trapped, and there was going to be no way out of this nightmare until she could understand and be powerful enough to end it herself.

Beside her, the medical droid creaked and a section of the metal imploded.

- - - - - - - - - - -​

Maybe there was a reason Ayra hadn’t seen Joon in near enough a week. Getting familiar with the Skyhook in that time and finally being able to eat, drink and breathe on her own, Joon often found herself reading history of the ancient galaxy- Jedi, Sith, Empires – and watching the blanket of space. It was endless, and she was just a dot in something she once thought was only as big as the research facility she was in.

She walked, dressed in her black jacket and cargo trousers, hair loose and looking more human than she had in weeks, up to where Ayra had called her.

Disturbing thoughts about strangling Ayra, or hitting her, of smashing her face through the protective glass windows flooded the clone’s head. She felt…invincible. She felt like she had been through so much so soon that she could take anything on. Listening to what Ayra had to say would be important for Ayra, as the last time she had seen the one she wanted to once call “Master” was when she had kicked the clone down to the warm ground and fled on a desert beast across Korriban.

Taking the circular steps up to the observation deck on the magnificent station, Joon saw Ayra standing there and looking out into space. A number of emotions bubbled up inside Joon, and she felt sick, and angry, and afraid.

Eyes narrowed slightly and she walked towards the woman, fingers rubbing against each other. Maybe she would be able to smash that face into the reflection easier than she expected. She didn’t even know what to say, because she felt that if she spoke she would be sick with rage.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra closed her eyes. Her rage. Her hatred. It is palpable. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she turned to face JN-4, studying her intently. She could feel her lust to break her, and by the end of their relationship, they would come to a point where one or the other would have to kill and break the bond shared between them as Master and Apprentice. "You are awake. Good. We have much to discuss." Leaning her head onto her shoulder, cocking it so as to sum up her Apprentice, the Sith begun to speak: "I sense you have come to an understanding. That the nature of our relationship is based on what we can gain from each other, and when that need has elapsed, we will be forced to kill one another. It is the nature of the Rule of Two. There is no other way. We are destined to kill each one day. It is inevitable. To ignore it would be axiomatic. The nature of our relationship is based on what we are. We are Sith."

Bowing her chin, Ayra's eyes became piercing, glaring into the woman that stood before her. "I am the Sith Master. I embody and emulate strength, power and victory. You are to become my Sith Apprentice. To kill me- to surpass me- you must wrench my position away from me. You must become the Sith Master. Everything that I embody and emulate is what you must become- what you must take- in order to kill me. I will teach you everything that I know. You will learn what it is to be Sith. You will master techniques and knowledge that I took from my Master. I will teach you the ways of the Force. And when I have taught you everything I know? When you are in a position to takeover everything that I have worked for, everything that I own and are ready to continue the nature of our work? To carry forth the Sith imperative? Only then will you be ready to kill me. Not before. Not now. But then! When you know it is time."

"It will not come quickly. The greatest lesson that I will pass onto you is patience. The day when it comes to the point where you will try to wrench the mantle of Sith Master away from me will not come for many years. It may take decades. Whilst I am strong, I will carry forth the Sith imperative. When you replace me- if you replace me- you will carry forward the imperative too. You will train your own Apprentice. You will train them in the ways of the dark side, and then one day, they will do the same. The nature of our Apprenticeship is based upon legacy. A legacy of Sith Lords that worked towards the same goal: the destruction of the Jedi Order, culminating in the Sith becoming the rulers of the Galaxy. That is what we will work towards as Master and Apprentice, and when it is time for you to take my place, you will do the same with your own."

Lifting her chin up, Darth Ayra maneuvered her head into position where her eyes were now looking down upon JN-4. She tried to gauge her reaction and learn more about the woman that had been selected to carry forward the Grand Plan.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Ayra still had that...that....that LOOK about her, even now. It turned her stomach - that beast! She showed no pleasure in seeing her again like she did on Duro. No tone in her voice that was warm and caring, like she had on Duro. Joon was nipping her nails into the flesh of her palm as she listened to each dirty, deadly syllable that dropped from Ayra's mouth. It was a story painted out to be one big tragic ending. Only when she raised her head to Joon did she feel she could talk without lashing out.

"I am no Sith."

Space seemed even more lonely after her bold statement.

"I am the last of an empowering project and will continue to be that until the day I die. You think I am going to sign my life away to you after what you did to me?!" Her voice was icy. "To watch my back every day until you decide I am not good enough and then you kill me? Or for me to become some monster and kill YOU?"

Joon was trembling.

"I'll kill you tonight. The second I get my chance. I'll kill you for what you did to me."

She was close to breaking. She had an un-natural bloodlust she needed to release. The Jedi on Korriban was close to getting it, but she was too sick to even try. Right now, Ayra was pushing the buttons that was making the clone more unstable by the second, and the grey mist in her eyes and shaking hands would show it.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

A spiteful laugh escaped Darth Ayra. "True! You are not Sith, Joon. Not yet." Moving forwards, Ayra begun to encircle JN-4, eyes resting on hers as she walked. The apex predator had her prey in her sights and she would do with her food as she wished. "Your sisters were weak. Can you blame them for being so? They were manufactured by a failed government. By a group of scientists who played with forces that they could never understand. But I understand the ways of the Force."

"Empowering project? You disgust me. Your sisters were killed by the Jedi. By the Galactic Republic. They were created for a war that never came. Mere tools that were easily discarded. I know this because it was I who salvaged the project on Duro. I and I alone hold the ability to bring the JN Project into fruition. What I did to you was necessary. You are the last of your sisters. I have made you stronger. Powerful. And yet your training is incomplete. If I am to bring the JN Project to fruition, then I must bring you into the fold. To make you understand what the Force truly is, as the last of your race."

"Only through me, can you learn how to bring the JN Project to it's potential. But there is more. By teaching you about the ways of the Force, you will master powers that you cannot currently fathom, that will avenge your sisters. But you cannot do it for them. It has to be done for yourself. The nature of the dark side is individualistic. It is a weapon, used for the sole purpose of the individual and not for others, such as your deceased sisters. Their deaths are a necessary motivation so that you can understand that only you can achieve a power in the Force that will equate the necessary response for what the Jedi did to you and them."

"The nature of our apprenticeship requires you to come to understand the ways of the dark side. Pain. Suffering. These are arbitrary feelings, that must be understood as concepts used to empower oneself. Pain is the ultimate lesson. It teaches you not to make the same mistakes. Mistakes such as your sisters, who died needlessly and without purpose. Suffering will drive you forward, giving you a purpose that only someone capable of mastering the dark side can accomplish."

The Sith Lord continued to walk around the youngling, eyes lowered- seemingly heavy- with the power of her words. The dark side of the Force surrounded both Master and Apprentice, drawing the latter closer into the abyss and down into the fold of Darth Ayra and her teachings. Hooded, the Sith seemed to espouse true power in that moment, and for many, power was alluring. "Of course you will try to kill me, Joon. It is the nature of the dark side. It is individualistic, as I have said. You will not only kill me for what I did to you on Korriban, but because you will wish to take my place in the Rule of Two. Because you will understand that the Jedi must be destroyed. For what they did to you and for what they represent. It is their narrow minded dogma that resulted in the destruction of the JN Project on Duro. Don't you see that now?"

Darth Ayra finished her circle, moving back to the transparisteel window. Back turned to JN-4, she settled her gaze on the asteroids once more. "For you to replace me, it must be done whilst I am still strong. To wait until I have grown old and weaker or to join forces with another is weak. The mantle must be taken from the strong by the strong. It is the way of the Rule of Two. But it must also be done whilst you are strong as well. When you have learned everything from me and are ready to takeover the intelligence network, resources and corporations that I have built over the past twenty years. To defeat me in open combat, in one final confrontation, is the ultimate test of your abilities. If you kill me, then my teachings are vindicated. You were the strong, and only through strength, can you gain power. But if you challenge me and fail? If you fail to kill me? Then I will kill you, for you were too weak to take my place. You will only gain one chance to end my life. It will be the biggest decision of your life, up until that moment. You must show extraordinary patience, cunning and skill. It must be when you too are all powerful, as I am now. Fail to eliminate me when the time is right and you were not a worthy successor, to hold my mantle and continue my legacy. In that moment, you will have to be replaced by someone who was worthy. Someone capable of continuing my legacy, which must endure so that, in time, the Jedi are one day destroyed by our Sith Order: the Order of the Sith Lords."

"You are not ready to replace me, Joon, for you are not yet Sith. And yet without me, you will never be strong enough to avenge your sisters. To destroy the Jedi. To eradicate the Galactic Republic. Without me, you will never be strong enough to kill me either. This is the way of the Sith. It is our way. However..." Drawing her lightsaber into her hand, Ayra dropped the weapon behind her, in between herself and JN-4. "If nothing I have taught you by now has settled in and made sense. If you tribulations on Korriban- the pain, suffering and hunger- IF you are not hungry to take all that I have!?" Opening her arms, as if to embrace her destiny, whether it was to bring the Rule of Two to fruition or to die in that moment, Darth Ayra was ready. "If are intent to kill me, without first learning all that I know, then kill me now. End my life and the only means to see the JN Project reach fruition. For you to truly understand your powers. To end the only means to which you can avenge your sisters and destroy the people responsible for their deaths..."

The Sith spoke barely above a whisper at the end of her monologue. Her eyes closed. If JN-4 picked up the weapon and drove it through Darth Ayra, then she was never worthy of being the Sith Master and bringing the Rule of Two to prominence. The clone would end, in that moment, decades of torment, pain and suffering that she would endure at the hands of Darth Ayra, as her Sith Master. However, if she were to accept her place in the grand scheme of things, then she would become all powerful. It was a crossroad. The final test Darth Ayra had as the Sith Master: to find a worthy successor, who would continue her legacy well after her death. And for JN-4? It was the first of many. Perhaps the biggest test of all: becoming a fully fledged Sith Lord.

 

[Connor Harrison]

To say Joon was confused was an understatement. Ayra was the only person she had known away from the IR facility and the JN project that had tried to understand, and had helped her make sense of people like Asemir and the Republic Jedi who were liars and butchers. However it now seemed that all Ayra the Sith wanted was to either kill Joon or be killed by her. The clone was programmed to understand the Force, to control it and to use it against their oppressors, but now without guidance she was nothing.

But not TOTALLY nothing.

It was Ayra’s way that would eclipse everything Joon imagined as a warrior, or it was back to nothing and being alone. Joon wished she understood what it meant to have friends and relations, because they may have saved her. Her sisters would have saved her. Now, she was alone and staring into darkness.

The clank of the lightsaber on the ground, dropped behind Ayra’s back, brought Joon back to the here and now. Her eyes flicked down to see the cylindrical weapon that was truly wonderful piece of technology to behold. A plasma blade emitting from nothing that was so powerful and beautiful, and so deadly. It embodied the Sith.

Because Ayra wasn’t facing her, Joon knelt quietly and cupped the hilt in two hands and held it, like a child would hold a wounded bird for fear or hurting it. The responsibility suddenly thrust upon her was suffocating – take a life and be free now, or submit to a callous, cruel and degrading Master. Nobody would truly be able to help her the way this Sith could, and deep down Joon knew that.

It was too late for her.

She had to continue on this broken path to eventually become someone that her sisters didn’t get the chance to be. She would embody all of them and fight for them. She would easily take a life of those she didn’t care for, because she was fast learning empathy made you weak and vulnerable.

The hilt rolled into one hand, the emitter facing Ayra. One flick of the button would cast the blade into the Sith and end her deluded vision. It was a tempting vision, to rule, but Joon wasn’t going to go about teaching another to have them kill her anytime soon. Ayra could think what she wanted, but the JN project wasn’t about self-sacrifice – it was about domination, destruction and justice.

Eyes moved up to the back of Ayra, and the hilt tightened in her sweaty palm.

Do it.

Gritting her teeth, and swallowing the bile that was rising, she gasped and threw the hilt as hard as she could to the right of Ayra and at the viewport. The tiniest little chip splintered out from where the hilt struck, and clanked back to the ground beside the Sith.

There was no need to say anything.

Her choice, however reluctant at this stage, had been clearly made.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

The Home evaporated, cast aside from her corporal form, as Darth Ayra felt herself caught in a vortex of true power. She perceived herself walking along the star ways, and with her yellow, predatory eyes, she saw the faces, worlds and governments whose futures would be decided by Darth Ayra and her Sith Apprentice. Brought back into reality, her divine vision cast aside, the Dark Lord of the Sith felt the doubt and the confusion within JN-4. Not yet Sith, but on the path to becoming one. She will learn the ways of the Force and through victory, her chains will be broken. She will be set free.

Eyes sliding, suddenly freed from the heaviness from before, Darth Ayra noticed the clink in the transparisteel. A substance as strong as durasteel, but transparent, the Sith knew that the concussive force behind JN-4's throw would have been enough to severely injure her. Yet, she knew that wasn't why the clone had thrown the blade back at her new Master. Frustrated in the position she found herself in- as Darth Ayra had been twenty years ago at the mercy of Darth Pandeima- JN-4 had taken her first steps into a new life.

The lightsaber zoomed up from the floor and into Darth Ayra's outstretched hand. Catching upon it's pommel, the Dark Lord turned to her fledgling Apprentice. Should I confer upon her a new name? To symbolize her transformation? No, it is not the time. She must first become a Sith Lord before the mantle of Darth is conferred. Walking around JN-4, Ayra said: "Follow." When the clone begun to follow her Master, the Sith led them around the central spire of the Skyhook, which held a lift that led down into the vacant, barren and void surface of the asteroid that it had been constructed upon. Laying at the sides of the couple were supplies. Sheets of durasteel rested against walls, accompanied by Adamithium beams that had been left over from the construction of the Home. Crates and boxes were left here and there, with most of them storing food and water for both Master and Apprentice to use them they required sustenance.

Coming to a stop beside the crate that she was looking for, Darth Ayra opened it to reveal the training sabers inside. The weapons were none lethal, but extremely effective in showcasing what happened when the user was hit by a real lightsaber. Along each beam rested the microscopic barbs of the Pelko bugs, native to Korriban, that could inject the victim with a blistering toxin that made the part of the body that was hit useless for a certain amount of time, followed by blistering pain that reduced them to agony. It was the closest to what it felt like when an arm, leg or other part of the body was hit by a lightsaber, without necessarily losing a body part.

Picking up a blade, Darth Ayra turned and handed one over to JN-4. "You will carry this weapon with you at all times. You will practice with it and become accustomed to holding the pommel." When the training blade was conferred to JN-4, Darth Ayra said: "From this moment, I will call you Justiciara Noctare. This will be the name- the identity- that you will adopt when we meet with others. We will meet many different types of people, ranging from Humans like ourselves to alien species. We will meet with different types of Force users, ranging from Sith to Jedi to Dark Jedi and those unaligned with the light or dark sides of the Force, but still possess some ability in the Force. These people that we will meet must never know who we really are. They must never find out about this facility, our plans or our real identities. We will have to lie to the people that we coerce into working with and alongside so as to protect ourselves and our secrets."

Standing tall, the Sith continued her explanation. "Nobody must know about our abilities. It is a secret. We must only use them as a last resort, when we are about to die or when someone is trying to injure us. You must learn when to use your abilities too. I will deliver an example. I was on a world called Formos, conducting business with gangsters called the Purple Rejects. They held a blaster to my head when the deal went sour. I knew that if they squeezed the trigger, I would die. But I knew that they weren't going to kill me. They wanted to take me, so that they could use my body for sex based activities. They would have sold me several times over, until I wasn't considered good enough to create money off of. I read the situation and I waited until the opportunity came that I could kill my captors, without ever exposing who I really was or my abilities in the Force. You will learn to do the same."

Darth Ayra turned to a nearby computer console, that was connected to the large viewing screen in the center of the Skyhook. Instead of activating the screen, however, the Sith typed into the console and activated the training droids that she had prepared in anticipation of training her future Apprentice. Targeting Justiciara, the Sith turned to address her apprentice. "You will train with these. They will try to shock you. Do not let them. When they fire upon you, deflect the bolt away from yourself with the blade in your hand." As Darth Ayra spoke, one of the Marksman moved in to shoot JN-4. The Sith folded her arms to watch the exercise.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon was half-listening to Ayra, half-listening to herself. She was exhausted, and she hadn't even done anything. She was being swept away by a tidal wave of emotions that she was just about keeping her head above without drowning. Walking behind her, keeping her eyes down and her breathing steady, she understood the new name; that of her project title.

But the deception and violence and Force using? She didn't have a problem with. Inside, she was bred just for that. She just didn't know HOW to unleash it, but that was soon to change.

After being introduced to the training lightsabers, the clone took one and held it clumsily. It was heavier than expected and somehow not as elegant as the real ones. Holding a blaster was second nature to her, but this? This was something else. She knew her head and heart wasn't in it, and the tired glances she gave Ayra showed that.

With a hand clamped on the hilt and the other cupping it, a god awful grip if ever there was one, Joon stood and blinked a few times to clear the haze from her tired eyes and nodded at the instruction. The training orbs hissed as they started to move, with one coming closer. Joon didn't even move as she was hit by a bolt.

"Ow!"

She recoiled, dropping the hilt. Sighing, she picked it up. This wasn't for her. She wasn't bred for using lightsabers. Lifting the training blade, she stood again with a clumsy grip and waved the weapon from side to side, now at least trying to move with the droid. It hissed high, then low. Then across. Joon didn't take her eyes off it, until she glanced over at the judging gaze of -

- the droid shot and hit her arm. She recoiled again.

"SCHUTTA!"

Joon's lips peeled back to show gritted teeth and she stormed forward and waved the blade erratically towards the droid, and actually hit it down. Then, the two other droids came up in unison. Joon span around and wasn't thinking - she was just doing. A droid shot a bolt and Joon side stepped. The droid shot again, and Joon batted the bolt away and slashed down with her blade. She missed.

She swiped again, with more frustration and anger and suddenly gripped her hand into a tight fist and let out a cry. The training droid suddenly shook and imploded with a sharp bang and fizz, sparks flew and it dropped to the floor. Joon nodded and licked her lips.

"MORE!"

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Several more training droids emerged from the surrounding crates. Programmed to target Justiciara, bolts came from all directions, stunning parts of the body that they impacted and causing momentary bouts of pain. The Jedi used these droids, Ayra knew. When Jedi in training used these types of droids to practice the deflection of blaster fire, it also helped them become further attuned to the Force. Utilizing a lightsaber- even if it was a training version- required advance senses and reflexes that only the Force could provide.

Unlike the Marksmen used by the Jedi, however, these particular versions didn't hold back on the pain they gave when hit. They were also programmed to be more cunning, designed to make sure that they did hit their target. It was ironic that the Jedi knew about the lessons of pain. She assumed that their younglings tried their best not to get hit again. That same exercise was being practiced here, but in a larger spectrum. Darth Ayra wanted her Apprentice to never mess up. To never make mistakes. To become meticulous, careful, cunning and subtle as she would become devastating, destructive and vengeful. She would learn each concept of what it meant to become Sith, and through careful study, training and mastery of her Master's teachings, she would learn to decipher the enigma of what it meant to be Sith.

"Through passion, we gain strength, Justiciara. Focus upon your hatred and harness it for the task at hand. Every time you reach out to destroy one of them, three others hit you. Would you allow the same thing to happen in a real fire fight? No, you would not. Concentrate your hate into deflecting their attacks. Never expose yourself to openings and attacks. Your life is your most precious commodity. Never sacrifice it, not even for victory."

 

[Connor Harrison]

It was strange hearing her being called the name of the project, but it sort out sounded defining to Joon’s ears. Joon, as a pet name, was a playful one. Given by her creators instead of the letters J and N. But Joon wasn’t in the mood for playing now. Whatever Ayra was doing to break her resolve and her innocence, it was working.

Flinging her jacket aside, Joon limbered up again to take on the droids and didn’t try to pin-point them for attack, instead she moved for defence.

A few bolts struck her, from the droids she failed to remember moving around her eye-line.

She missed more bolts than she deflected, but each time she didn’t think about the Force, or the power in her, she just acted as if she knew what was coming. She often closed her eyes for a second and let her body move, arms twisting the hilt up or down to absorb the blasts.

Keeping in a small circle, Joon found she was lashing out less and becoming more precise, as if each bolt deflected was a personal increase in her own ability. Sweat formed on her brown and gave her arms a salty shine as the weight of the hilt grew and grew with each twist and parry.

She would continue this until otherwise ordered, for that was what JN-4 was programmed to do; follow the orders of the Master, and to defend that Master with all she had.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

"No. Stop." Darth Ayra allowed her arms to fall to her sides, spotting the problem. Justiciara was focused on parrying the bolts, not by using her Force-talents, but instead on her advanced reflexes and basic instinct on where the droid was going to shoot. "You are not using the Force. It is why you are being hit. Perhaps you enjoy pain, Justiciara? Or perhaps you have not learned the lesson that it is supposed to teach?"

"You will close your eyes, to awaken a broader sight delivered by the Force. Instead of focusing on timing your reflexes, you must allow the Force to flow through you. Your instinct will tell you where to move, how to move, when to move and every time you feel your way, you will unlock your ability to time your parries, movements and technique as you becoming in sync with your powers."

Moving closer, Darth Ayra stepped behind her Apprentice, speaking as she adjusted her position into something akin to the Soresu form. "You must allow your anger and hate flow through you. You must hate every moment you are made to suffer. Hate every time you are stung by the bolts. Allow it to consume and convert you into the Sith you will become. There, you will feel the dark side. It will make you it's property. Surrender to it. In that moment, in your surrender to the dark side, you will in turn make the Force your property, to exert your will over the weapon in your hand, or upon the Jedi that you will murder, or upon the criminals, corporations and politicians we will coerce into doing our bidding."

Leaving her side, the Dark Lord resumed her former position and said: "Again." The droids, hearing the command, instantly opened fire, having used the moment where their Master and target had talked for moving into different positions, so that they could get a better line of fire. Feeding upon her Apprentice's pain, Darth Ayra felt herself grow stronger as Justiciara was pulled closer into her machinations.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon didn't react when Ayra touched her to be moved into position, she just let it happen. Slowly, the hate was diminishing. The anger was still there, but maybe this was part of the process in finally becoming the warrior she had been bred to be. The lecture was already grating on her. Of course she didn't LIKE pain, but the pain was somehow stimulating; powerful. It made her want to strive and succceed and overcome that pesky ball hurting her.

Glancing to the side as her Master - her only companion - stood aside and gave her direction, Joon nodded and quickly looked to each of the droids, taking in their height and position.

She closed her eyes and tried to picture herself in the clone chamber. Silence. Peace. Control.

Nothing but a heartbeat. Slow breathing that felt like hours but only took seconds. The hate for Ayra, for the teaching, for the droids, for Asemir, for her family. Her chest swelled with loathing for everything the Light stood for, and those Jedi butchers.

HISS

A droid moved down and fired.

Joon didn't open her eyes but raised the blade and adsorbed the bolt.

Another droid moved and fired.

Joon turned on her heel and absorbed the bolt.

The next droid fired. It hit her thigh. Joon snarled - eyes closed. Hit hissed left, and Joon moved back. The white bolt shot out to her chest. The blade absorbed it as it swung up vertically.

There was a small pulsation of power in her soul; it made her feel invincible, and it made her feel stronger. When she opened her eyes after what felt like hours, the iris was hazy and murky with grey, like a dark cloud filling her body from the inside.

"I want to kill them all."

Her fingers tightened on the hilt and he stalked forward, swinging the blade to absorb another bolt coming from behind. It was like she had been possessed.

"I WANT TO KILL THEM ALL!"

The claws of the Dark Side were digging into her unstable DNA and her fragile heart and bleeding the humanity from her.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra watched Justiciara practice for a while longer. Her eyes followed the path of the droids, as they darted around, following the protocols that she had installed to make sure that they continually bombarded their target with a ferocity that matched the Dark Lord's own. She did not smile, as Pandeima had done when she had put her Apprentice through her training exercises. She held no satisfaction from observing the transformation of a desperate, lonesome, broken clone of a woman long dead into a vicious, ferocious, terrifying Sith Lord.

Darth Ayra observed the creation of Justiciara Noctare- the woman who would inherit all that she knew and owned- as a necessary path to the completion of the Grand Plan. But before the clone, formally known as JN-4, could become her, she first had to become something else, as Darth Ayra had to before she could resume her life as Alicia Drey. When she had first met Circe Savan all those years ago, at the annual Hanna City carnival, she had been a reckless, guarded child whose parents had sought to shield and protect her from a populace who didn't understand Force-sensitive children. After over four centuries of famine and plague, the guidance of the Jedi had been lost in the galaxy- so few in numbers they had become during the era of the Gulag Plague- that children, such as Alicia had been at the time, were considered freaks, unnatural and dangerous to normal people. When Ayra resumed living life as the name given to her during her seminal years before Darth Pandeima, it was as a completely new woman, born with a new purpose to serve her Sith Master. Living as Alicia Drey was to only forward the completion of the Grand Plan, of which she sought to bring into fruition as her new, real identity: Darth Ayra.

But Alicia's parents, not wishing to expose their child to such scrutiny, had hidden her away from Chandrilian society, becoming something of a well guarded, dark secret within the family. They had not been unwilling to lose their child to the Jedi Order either, despite her 'condition' and the guidance that they could have provided, even then during a time where the Galactic Republic was a shadow of it's former self. But their secrets had cost them their lives, as a Sith Lord stumbled across their talented offspring during the rare, few times she had been allowed outside to participate in an event such as the carnival and it's funfairs.

Turning away from her Apprentice, Darth Ayra made her way to the nearby computer consoles to begin her work. Lowering herself into one of the vacant seats in front of the computer's desk, Ayra brought up the catalogue that she had recorded during the building process of the Home. She scrawled through the records, skim reading over what was on board until she found the file that she was looking for. In the background, the shouts of Justiciara, joined by the sounds of bolts being fired and the whir of her training blade could be heard. Ignoring the plights of her Apprentice, Ayra typed into the password to the coded file and had immediate access to what was inside.

Appearing in text form, the Azari Theory she had come up with during her earlier studies on Sojourn appeared on the monitor's screen. Darth Ayra paid it no attention, having already read through the file several times over, memorizing it's contents to the point that she didn't necessarily need the text file anymore. But it wasn't for her. When the time came, Justiciara would one day come to know of her research into the dark side, as would the Sith Lords that would follow her, if she proved strong enough to claim her Sith Master's mantle when the day came for the two to do battle to the death. In anticipation of that inevitable event, Darth Ayra would store all that she would work on and discover into her own personal library, joining the archives of information that Pandeima had left behind when she had been killed and replaced, as well as the holocrons, scrolls and other Sith texts Darth Ayra was beginning to amass and recover. By the time Ayra did die and was replaced by a worthy successor, they and the Sith Lords that would inevitably succeed them would have access to the teachings of long dead Sith Lords, as well as her own research into the dark side. It would become custom for this archive of Sith knowledge to be added too, adding to the resurgent power of the Order of the Sith Lords and the members that would inherit it all.

Finally, Darth Ayra found what she was looking for. It had been years since she had begun amassing rare artifacts. Her collection was rather small, but modest in comparison to other collectors. One of her main objectives was the recovery of ancient Sith holocrons, with the knowledge of their creators stored within to be learned from. But she had also amassed weapons and other artifacts that had been created through the science of Sith Alchemy. Specifically, Darth Ayra had chosen to target those pieces that once belonged to the Order of the Sith Lords. She considered these rare and arcane pieces in particular to already belong to her, considering the linage that she now shared with those who had followed the Rule of Two before her. It was an old Sith pretext that the living inherited what had belonged to the dead. That was why nearly all the tombs and grave sites of the ancient Dark Lords of the Sith, on Korriban, had been excavated, with all their treasures and knowledge stolen from their crypts. During her collecting, the most ancient of these pieces was the lightsaber of Darth Bane, whilst the more recent came in the form of the Horde Holocron, an artifact that detailed the history of the Horde, a faction that Darth Pandeima had once led. She had brought the holocron, not because she held any weight in the history of the Horde, but because it could have led back to the existence of the Rule of Two. That too was another reason to collect everything that had been lost and scattered by the remnants of Darth Bane's Order and a doctrine that Darth Ayra would install into Justiciara and the Sith Lords that would follow. Inevitably, in time, the hushed whispers of the Sith'ari and the Grand Plan that he had put into motion centuries ago would become just that, as he had planned it to be. In time, nobody would even remember Darth Ayra, other than her successors and she knew this to be the true ways of the dark side, given the subtly of it all.

But whilst the recovery and discovery of these long lost and rare artifacts held significant importance to the Rule of Two, perhaps more important than these ancient weapons and holocrons was the lightsaber crystals that Darth Ayra had also collected. It was said that Darth Plagueis the Wise had the ability to bend and manipulate life itself with his powers of the dark side. Darth Ayra knew that such a power must have been born out of decades of research and training in the Force, for such a power could not have been gifted naturally. Such was the power of the dark side, to rip and bend apart the nature of the Force and subsequently make it your own. Darth Ayra had observed this in action, through her ability to manifest the Force Maelstrom and tear asunder her enemies with it's power. But like Plagueis, who had sought to bend and manipulate life with his powers, it was not destruction that Ayra was seeking to achieve with her work, but rather a new and more arcane aspect of the dark side yet to be recorded anywhere that she had looked. The concept behind her work had been left behind in the theory that she had created. Only time, research and experiments would tell if her theories were made to be true.

Typing into the keypad, Ayra instructed that the crystals that she had amassed over the years be brought into the center of the Skyhook. Rising from her seat, the Dark Lord made her way through the different desks and the computers that sat on top of them, into the center of the Home. Beside the shaft that led down into the asteroid below, Darth Ayra removed the cylinders that held each crystal carefully out of their crates and placed them gingerly, with a delicacy that was comparable to carrying a new born child, upon pedestals that were lined before the viewing screen that hung from behind.

Standing back, so that she could observe each one at the same time, the Dark Lord of the Sith turned to watch each one as they hovered within their cases. The Qixoni crystal glowed a menacing dark red. Beside it, the Katak shone a dark light that seemed to drain the crimson light of it's neighbor. To left of the Katak appeared an empty cylinder, but Darth Ayra knew this be an effect of the Stygium crystal inside. Three of the rarest crystals in the galaxy stood before the Dark Lord of the Sith, yet she knew that her list was far from being completed and that there was still work to be done before she had the necessary components to begin her experiments and form the weapon that she desired to change the structure of the galaxy itself.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon didn't even notice Ayra had moved away from the room where the droids were buzzing and the vicious training blade was lunged around. Granted, the hits were getting fewer but these were droids; not real people. The sweat was nicely coating her skin now, her brow matted with hair. In fact, she didn't care Ayra was there or not, she was too busy enjoying the feeling of being in control, but not being in control.

Her skin was tingling, and her insides felt like they were nothing but air, her body moving with a new found grace and dexterity.

With each sharp turn, her eyes never blinked; narrow in focus. Her hair snapped across her face with each twist of the head. Her arms were tense with the muscles used to maintain the heavy blade in her hand, and her feet were light, hopping and spinning on the heel.

She envisioned each blast was one she was absorbing for her sisters, each time she absorbed it she was winning and getting stronger, and the aggression would soon come to fruition.

"What are you doing?!"

Joon shouted, more of a demand than a question. And it was directed at Ayra suddenly.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

"None of your concern," Darth Ayra replied coldly, turning to lay her cold eyes upon her Apprentice. "Return to your exercises. Continue until I say otherwise." Turning her back to Justiciara, Ayra settled her gaze back upon the three crystals that hung before her. As she studied them with her eyes, already aware of what each crystal could do, she considered the woman she had just chastised. She debated whether to explain to her Apprentice exactly what she was doing now and what she was going to do later. But she decided against it. It would take hours, possibly a day, to elaborate on why she was collecting these crystals, which would detract away from Justiciara's training. Plus, if she was going to begin the project now, then she didn't wanted to detract her own time away from explaining something that Justiciara was neither ready nor trusted to know.

Ignoring her Apprentice, Darth Ayra turned away from the cylinders and made her way through the consoles towards the walls. One of the many support beams, made out of a mixture of Duranium and Adamithium, loomed over the Dark Lord, casting a shadow from the nearby artificial light. Lain beside the beam were two crates. Kneeling down to it, Darth Ayra opened up to reveal it's contents. Looking up at the Sith Lord were several ingots of refined Adamithium, which were ready to be put to use. Looking back up, Darth Ayra called over to Justiciara: "Come here. I need you to help me carry this."

 

[Connor Harrison]

She smirked at Ayra's reply.

Inside, she felt like she was stronger than the Sith for some deluded moment. Like she had finally understood who she was during the past week - more than that. Since finding her way through Korriban, being isolated in the skyhook and now trying to use the Force, she felt different. Powerful. Bitter. She hadn't even spoken to Ayra since Korriban. That was when she was speaking through rose-tinted glasses, naive and unaware of things. Now, however, she couldn't care less about what Ayra felt. Joon could do this herself, and she would be stronger one day - more than Ayra.

As the call came for help, Joon was in no rush to bend to her whim.

"I'm busy. Use the Force to do it."

With an exhale of breath, the clone continued with the flying droids.

The Joon of old was dying away with each second she let the Force consume her, and in turn, the Dark Side.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra paused momentarily, her eyes still fixated on the crate of Adamithium. Her shoulders rolled themselves and her neck craned, a twitch vibrating along her spine as Justiciara denied her. It was clear that her Apprentice required a demonstration, so as to show the gulf in their powers. Rising up to her feet, back turned to Justiciara and the droids that flew around her, Darth Ayra claimed her lightsaber into her hand and leaped into the air, bringing the weapon into ignition.

Unleashing a blood curdling cry that had made men buckle, Darth Ayra landed beside Justiciara and begun to unleash a torrent of strikes upon her Apprentice with an aggression she had yet to reveal her prodigy. As she delivered her strikes, Darth Ayra never went for the kill nor to injure Justiciara. She kept the attack in the outer rim defense of lightsaber combat, knowing that she could have engaged into the mid and inter rim, but deciding not too, for that would surely maim her opponent.

No, the idea was to showcase the difference. Whenever Ayra struck, she aimed to put Justiciara on the back foot, aiming to stagger her Apprentice, but never moving in to finish her when it happened. She wanted Justiciara to know that whether it was through her machinations of the dark side or the draw of her lightsaber, Darth Ayra owned her until the day she died and it would remain that way for years to come.

 

[Connor Harrison]

She saw Ayra stand but didn’t pay heed to it, instead rolling her shoulders a little and flexing her fingers on the hilt. There was a little…how could she explain it…a tremor, a little surge in the air around Joon that made her eyes dart to Ayra for a second, and then back to the droids. In the next second, she jumped out of her skin at the sound of a horrific war cry and the sound of a lightsaber – the crimson light engulfing them both in the colour of blood in a tight space.

Eyes wide with nothing but fear, Joon panicked, and her confidence fell. Each aggressive swipe Ayra made forward, Joon tried to bat it away and stumble backward. Boot over boot, side stepping, scuffing her heel, back back back. Faster faster faster. Not a second to compose herself or evade the hits.

Her wrist couldn’t turn the angles needed to counter each hit, and she cowered and flinched away as the blinding blade of energy hit and sparked around her and made her lose total awareness of her own stability.

Joon fell backwards with a hard crunch, her feet moving too fast for her body to keep up with. The training blade rolled on the ground and she was splayed out clumsily, arm up to shield herself. Face twisted in shock and a little fear, the crimson coating her body in a light that acted as a shadow cast by Ayra’s dark weapon, Joon panted and held her hands out wide as a sign she had nothing.

She was angry. Angry at Ayra, and at herself for pushing this monster into attacking.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

As the training blade fell to the ground, caused by a disarming slash from Ayra's relentless assault, the Dark Lord raised her lightsaber high into the air. Caught in the moment, everything told the Sith Lord to swing the weapon down into the woman at her feet, severing her ties to her corporal flesh and sending her well on her way to the gates of Chaos. Panting, chest heaving from the exertion- not from the physicality of the assault- but from the rush of it all, Darth Ayra's eyes glowed a menacing yellow as she looked down at Justiciara.

Slowly, Ayra lowered her weapon down, thumbing the ignition button to reclaim it's blood red light. Keeping her gaze on her Apprentice, Darth Ayra said down to her: "Whilst it is inevitable that you and I will one day fight to the death, you must understand that whilst you are being trained by my hand, and whilst your reserved status as my apprentice has been conferred upon you, you will do everything I tell you until the day comes when you take my place as the master away from me."

"Learn your place, Justiciara. Or you will be useless to me."

Leaving her to pick herself up from the floor, Darth Ayra clipped her lightsaber back onto her belt and moved back to the crate of Admithium. Standing beside it, she looked over to her Apprentice. "Now, you will help me carry this, and from this moment on, you will carry out every instruction I ever give you, regardless of what you think, because ultimately I am your Master."

 

[Connor Harrison]

She was shaking, and felt sick – horrid emotions churning inside her body. Part of her thought that Ayra would take her life there and then like an animal. When the light hissed away and the blade vanished, a broken gasp of relief and fear escaped her lips. She had no breath to take, and felt like she had been drowning.

The yellow eyes glaring at her were in-human; and then Joon glimpsed what sort of woman she was dealing with. Spiteful comments and ignorance were nothing. The fear instilled in Joon in those few seconds was unlike anything she had felt before. Her heart pounded inside her ribs.

If this was what the Dark Side was capable of, and what Joon was capable of…? The JN project would be nothing but a triumph in her hands.

The cold clammy sweat of fear resided on her head as Ayra finally left, and Joon closed her eyes and hid her face for a moment to compose herself, like a scorned child who wanted to cry but couldn’t find the strength to do so.

She pulled herself up, the training saber still on the floor. Walking forward slowly…carefully…she approached the crate and automatically took a position to carry it. She didn’t look up at the woman who scared her.

"I’m sorry," came a near in audible whisper.

Joon was now, effectively, broken.

[member="Darth Ayra"]