Thus Spake Zarathustra

[Lief]

Teth.

Kyros had not been back for very long, and she wasn't entirely certain whether Thyrian had forgiven her three year absence. While she shouldn't have pondered on such, especially given her typically indifferent state, Thyrian did have significance in her life. He had raised her, after all. For now the mask had been set aside, at least while in the confines of her bunker, as Kyros had taken no time slipping back into her former roles.

Now she stood within the largest hall the bunker offered, which had been cleared of all furnishings. Before her stood two score of her Bladeborn, with her own embodiment stood within them. Zarathustra had been a welcome addition to their ranks; while she was not the typical eunuch she was in many ways just as effective... If not more so. Her strength was unmatched, even by their hulking general Thyrian, and her precision and attention to detail was paramount.

Each face was locked forward towards her own, helmets held under one arm and position stiff to attention. They would not move even an inch without permission, so intense had been their training - raised since youth to serve. Her eyes narrowed slowly as she waited for the Ashborn to appear: today Kyros would be focusing upon only her clone, her HRD whose training regime had been odd to say the least, and it would only increase in intensity.

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

Many things could've been said - in many regards they should be said - about the sudden return of his master; three years he'd waited without a word letting him know she was even coming back at all. It had taken its toll on the Ashborn, without a doubt, both in years and spirit. Now she showed up expecting everything to be as it once was without any repercussions of her actions. But he would be fooling himself by saying he was not restored somewhat by her return; to bask in her presence, to bear witness to her displays of power over people. Her ruthlessness endowed him, despite not always agreeing with her methods. Still, he would not speak against her; she was his master, and his Queen. His little one. Snowflake...

He snapped out of his longing gaze as he found himself staring at the delicate woman, white of hair and blue set of eyes. Her hiding behind that mask of hers was the biggest crime imaginable. Thyrian stepped forward and turned to his peers. It has been some time since last he saw his Bladeborn brethren, but they all looked the part; fierce, efficient, loyal. "Bladeborn - salute the Queen!" his command came, to which they all responded by raising their weapons in unison as their voices rang: "All hail the Queen! All hail the Queen!" Silence followed, awaiting the word of their sovereign.

[member="Lady Kyros"]

 

[Lief]

Only Kyros was no Queen, at least not yet. That was a plan to be fulfilled another day, as today would be far less grand and instead brutal. She should have told them to stand at ease, but these were not your ordinary soldiers nor should she treat them as such. Instead her eyes narrowed very subtly, before she nodded her head at Thyrian. "Set them against themselves in mock-battle" she instructed, before lowering her gaze down from her risen platform, seeking out the flash of bright white hair. "And send me the HRD."

With that she stepped down from the platform, which was quite a few feet off the ground, and landed delicately before the Bladeborn. No other word was uttered as the Sith Lord turned and paced away from the giant hall, which was in truth her own throne room, and exited off to the side. If Thyrian needed her then he knew where to find her, Kyros' personal training chambers were not too far from the throne room after all. Mentally she sent him one final note; Make use of the entire facility. She wanted them to utilize Sokan more effectively.

[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

With a hand gesture the warriors set to work, pairing up to commence the sparring. By now they would all act as a single entity, their movements mirroring eachother perfectly, each knowing how to respond to which counter-attack. He'd taught every last one of these men so well that they didn't really need him anymore other than to shout orders at them. This meant he could basically just stand off to the side and watch as they all began their session of rigorous training. He gestured for the HRD clone of his master to come closer.

"Our master wishes to speak with you. She's in her chambers." With a nod she set off to meet with their Queen. There wasn't much more for the Ashborn to do other than watch the perfect copy of his beloved Snowflake leave the great hall. Weary eyes of fire then returned to gaze upon the brutal duels of the Bladeborn soldiers.

[member="Lady Kyros"]

 

[Lief]

[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

Ensure that they learn some creativity, as opposed to merely throwing out the same attacks and counter attacks, she instructed the Ashborn mentally as she wandered into her minimalistic training chamber. In the field nothing is so meticulous and anything could be thrown at them. Nothing is predictable. They need to know that.

She glanced around the bare room and began to centre herself in the Force, breathing slowing as her eyes closed and her focus intensified. Darkness wrapped itself around her life comforting arms, like the soft embrace of a cloak on a crisp winter's day. To most it would have been suffocating, but Kyros welcomed it. She had been intoxicated by it since she first laid eyes on Depravious all those years ago. It was her drug, her poison so to speak, and it fuelled her like no other.

When she felt the dull 'life signs' of her clone-turned-HRD the Sith Lord merely spoke, not breaking her trance to turn and gaze upon her. "Übermensch..." her voice drawled, laced with the taint of all that she usually kept at bay. "The perfect Bladeborn... Yet you hold within you still weakness, far superior even to those training now under the gaze of the Ashborn."

"My Queen," came the lifeless voice of her duplicate, "I hold no weakness. I am the Übermensch. I am perfection."

To this the Sith Lord laughed. It was a sad sound, none the less, Kyros rarely made such an off handed gesture. With a tender sigh she shook her head. "In that you are fooled, for all are flawed, all are imperfect. Even the Age of Steel has its flaws. Even the Übermensch."

Breaking free from the grip the Force had held upon her, Kyros began to pace. "But I intend for you to lead, alongside the Ashborn. I intend for you to stand at the head of an army. To be my voice during times I cannot be present." Her gaze shifted across to the flawless version of herself, in appearance if nothing else. "You must become more than you already are..."

Under the scrutinizing eyes of her Maker the HRD dropped to one knee, an odd trait - likely not meant to have been worked into her when Archangel performed its Upgrade... But defects happened, and the respect the Droid had for Kyros did not bother her. It set a good example.

"I believe it is time."

With that, the Sith Lord produced a secondary lightsaber and threw it down to Zarathustra's feet.

[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

At her bidding, the Ashborn general marched down the organised lines of sparring pairs. He eventually stepped forth and shoved one of the younger Bladeborn to the ground from the side. He shook his head in disapproval as he spoke aloud for all to hear. "In war, there will be no rules or regulations, no orderly-fashioned line-up of enemies waiting for you to take them out one by one. There is chaos and there is bloodshed and there are friends being chopped up into tiny bits of gore. The only thing one can do to prevent this from happening is to know your enemy, know yourself, and..." he paused, leaping up to a scaffolding high above ground. "...know your surroundings!" He turned his head to look down at them all, their gazes raised up to their general in awe and respect. "Brothers! For the remainder of this session, you will utilize your surroundings however you see fit! This is the way of Sokan!" Immidiately the troops got to work, returning to their sparring partners but this time leaping and running around, filling the entire air-space between floor and ceiling.

Their instructor remained atop the scaffolding, watching with the slightest of smirks before turning his attention to the sealed chambers of his master, and the smirk vanished. A sense of longing washed over him to replace his pride. She had spent too long apart for her to separate herself from him again. He crossed his arms as he watched for any signs from within her chambers, the hint of a frown forming upon his face.

[member="Lady Kyros"]