Tomb

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Combined with the torrential downpour and the efforts of the campers, Yawah and Rax's tent were no longer ablaze, with the last traces of ember dying out. The rest of the camp loomed on the two Sith, with the opening tarps fluttering up and down, left opened by their former occupants as they rushed to put the fire out. What had been a vibrant camp for the past two weeks had been reduced to a massacre in the space of an hour. But it was still not finished for Darth Ayra.

Turning her Lightsaber offline, Darth Ayra approached Justiciara as she knelt over the man. She heard her Apprentice clearly. Did she really expect that her Master would spare him after what they had both done to him and his people? Coming to a stop, towering over both of them, Darth Ayra said: "Finish it, Apprentice." Lowering her eyes to the man, eyes scanning the space where her Lightsaber had hit, the Dark Lord appeared stoic in that moment. She neither relished in the mans murder. It was simply necessary now that he had to die. There was to be no survivors.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon kept her eyes on the man, and he was finding it hard to swallow against the internal injuries and the rain water rolling over him. She felt Ayra approach from behind, and didn’t move.

She put the death on Joon.

There was no question what to do next – she didn’t feel remorse for the man. She didn’t know him or his background, or those he had hurt in the quest for taking Sith history away from those it belonged to. Joon was bred for this and this alone, and now it was being unleashed.

However she didn’t want to let a plasma blade take the life, it felt cheap.

She slowly raised her right hand and brought it up to the man’s throat and placed it on the wet skin, feeling the swallow under her. Then, she pushed down and clamped her fingers on the neck and squeezed with one, long, hard amplification of pressure.

As the man tried to struggle, reduced by the fact he was probably feeling some form of paralysis, Joon just squeezed harder and watched his face flicker from pain, to fear, to sadness, to panic…and to death.

His body jerked, and under her hand she felt no pulse, no movement. She looked at him and let go, her fingers slightly sticking to the skin. The glassy expression in his eyes signalled he had gone. With that, there were no survivors. Joon smiled, and rose beside Ayra, a little flex of her shoulders to ease the ache from the rifle hit.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

For a people that based their lives on lies, deceptions and betrayals, Darth Ayra often dealt in absolutes and there was nothing more absolute than the truth. Turning her gaze to Justiciara, she said: "You did well." Moving on from the dead, the Dark Lord made her way to the tent where she had seen the boy. Stepping over the corpse, of what she assumed to be his dead Mother, Darth Ayra walked towards the tent and entered it.

Another oil lamp had been placed in between two beds. There was books, utensils and datapads here and there. It was a makeshift home. The boy gasped as Darth Ayra entered, backing away into the corner. Water dripping from her soaked hair and face, the Dark Lord watched the boy quietly. She knew she should kill the child, for the same reasons she had murdered his Mother and the rest of his camp. But she wanted to test her Apprentice and see what she would decide. So she waited for Justiciara to catch up, quietly thankful that she was no longer being assaulted by the rain outside.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon followed Ayra, reaching up just to check the blade was inside her pocket still. Losing that would certainly make her un-popular. Looking at the smoulder tents, a few wild flames shrinking with the lack of material to burn and lashing rain, the place seemed to be alive with smoke and steam, filling her nostrils with smells that weren’t exactly easy to take.

Ayra led the way into the large tent Joon came from, and inside, she stopped behind her Master abruptly, seeing a child towards the corner of the room.

The child would be alone, cold and now afraid.

She felt…compassion.

At least maybe direct the child away to find their way, hopefully to some other settlement. That would be best, wouldn’t it.

She looked at Joon from behind, and then to the child. What was she waiting for?

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra looked between the boy and her Apprentice. She sensed the compassion within Justiciara. It was a sign of weakness, born out of the fact that the boy was defenceless. It was a byproduct of emotion, to feel something for the offspring of another. It was a mechanism installed to all beings on an instinctive level. "You know what has to be done, Justiciara." Raising her free hand to her hair, the other still holding her Lightsaber, Darth Ayra whipped her soaking hair around into a fist, before letting it drop onto her shoulder.

Stepping away from the tarp, so as to avoid the rain that was licking her back, Darth Ayra stood in between the boy and Justiciara. In between her decision. "He knows too much. He has seen our faces. He is in our way."

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon looked at what Ayra did, and copied, moving out of the rain. Looking between the boy and her Master, it was clear what she had to do. That was what she had asked, and so that is what she would do. It was a shame, but just like the man, Joon didn’t know the child, didn’t know his history, if he was a bully to others, or learning to be a solider like the ones who killed her sisters.

Reaching into the pocket, she pulled out the lightsaber hilt and walked forward casually to the boy, who seemed to begin to hyperventilate, eyes darting between the object in her hand and her face. He wanted answers, he wanted hope, anything – he wanted his mother.

Joon simply looked at the boy and raised the hilt and pointed at his chest, and activated the blade.

The crimson shaft pierced through the boy’s chest, through the ribs and out, and he fell back like deadweight as she killed the saber.

Painless, for them both. And it felt good. It was the right thing.

Joon turned to Ayra, silently proud and feeling accomplished. She smiled, and even though she knew the Master wouldn’t because it wasn’t in her “duty” to smile, or be happy to show praise. Well, she felt good, and didn’t need to hear it.

Sauntering over to Ayra, Joon stood next to her, looked up and then looked out the tent.

”I’ve never seen rain like this before.”

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

A brief flash of red, followed by the dull thud of the boy collapsing to the ground and the deed was done. Following Justiciara with her eyes, Darth Ayra was impressed with the ruthlessness that her Apprentice had just shown. "Tonight was important. We do what is necessary, even when it is hard." Looking down at the body, Darth Ayra averted her gaze to the tarp behind her, commenting on the rain also: "I have. Just one time."

Dropping her Lightsaber onto the bed, Darth Ayra unraveled her waterlogged robes off her tired body. Carrying the excess weight from the water, combined with the difficult and complicated techniques of Lightsaber combat, had taken it's toll. "We won't be able to continue until the rain has subsided. We should use this time to dry out, rest and talk." Clicking her fingers to the boy, Darth Ayra said: "Take that outside. We will deal with it when the rain has stopped."

Shivering due to the cold, the Dark Lord continued unraveling her soaked clothes until she was down to her underwear. Hanging them over the chairs and table inside the tent, she then moved to sit beside her Lightsaber, folding her legs over each other. Edging closer to the oil lamp, she attempted to get warm from it's faint heat.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Looping her arms under the child's armpits, Joon dragged the body out into the cold rain, and tossed the lifeless youth onto the smouldering remains of the tent, and dashed back in.

Ayra was already getting settled, and so Joon followed. Her soggy boots, her sodden trousers, her soaking shirt, her dripping jacket - all discarded. In her basic underwear, she moved with a militaristic style, like she did during wind-down as a clone, and sat opposite her Master and watched her, taking her in.

The rain continued to drum on the tent around them, a strange calm...after the storm.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra felt numb. The heat from the lamp, sat in between herself and Justiciara, was minimal. She considered climbing into the covers of the bed she sat on top of, but thought better. Although her senses were highly attuned to the Force, it was possible that others may come by the excavation in the next few hours. There were other things for the Sith to worry about. With the bodies laying outside, predators in the surrounding forest might be drawn towards them via their sense of smell. It was unlikely, given that rain masked scents, but still possible. She was just meticulous like that.

Watching Justiciara undress as well, Darth Ayra waited for her Apprentice to sit down. She listened and then replied: "How did it make you feel?"

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon pulled her legs up, cross legged and placed her hands on her her knees.

”It felt natural. It felt good. I enjoyed it, and when I was attacking, I wanted to keep on going, and the thrill took over. I can't explain it.”

She looked across the lamp to Ayra, imposing as ever.

”I take it that was the Dark Side taking over? Should I enjoy it? Or not.”

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra nodded before speaking: "I remember a similar sensation when I first began embracing the dark side of the Force. The hesitation, anxiety, nervousness and the sickly feeling I felt at the prospect of ending another life left me. I know now that it was the Force itself transforming me, allowing me to embrace something new. When that transformation was complete, I was named Darth Ayra. At that moment, my seminal life was over."

"Feeling good, as you put it, about ending another life is akin to the same sensation that a serial killer feels at the prospect of murdering someone. These individuals, who kill for fun, are not like us. We are Sith. We kill when it is necessary. I have the ability to kill many people. Take Chandrila for example. It's rural farmlands mean that many people are out in the middle of no where. I could find these people and murder them senselessly, and with my skills, I could get away without being caught by the authorities. I could do this years- perhaps decades- and they would never find me."

"But there wouldn't be a point in murdering them. Everything that I do is interconnected in some way. Us being here on Dxun is connected to what we will do years from now. The murder of that boy, and the rest of his camp, was done to hide our presence on Dxun, so that nobody would know we were here. We had to kill all of them because the scenario placed us in a position where it was either us or them. These people are criminals, working for an organization of Crime Lords from the Unknown Regons and the Outer Rim Territories, who sent these people here to excavate the tomb of Freedon Nadd. The Black Tie Syndicate wanted what they could find inside Nadd's tomb and sell it on the black market, as they have been doing since they were formed. If we were spotted, then they would have tried to kill us because of the same reasons we killed them: to get what they came for and to cover their tracks."

"The nuance of enjoying the kill and killing because it was necessary to do so is a blurred line. Remember that whilst death is our ally, murder is a dangerous business, one in which we could very well end up dead ourselves. We must always read into the situation and discover if there are other alternatives to murder, considering every factor to the ultimate decision we make. In this case, it was unavoidable to kill these people, but consider that the Black Tie Syndicate will discover that there people had died and consequentially they will search for the reasons why. Should they ever discover that we were responsible for this, then we will have provoked the strongest and most brutal Crime Lords in the Galaxy into a response that would be unfavourable for either of us. But with thanks to the rain, the lack of witnesses and the fact that we will destroy the rest of the camp- it's tents and equipment- with fire will ensure that we will never be connected to the crime."

"In essence, enjoy the kill, but do not let that feeling control you. Through passion, we gain strength."

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon listened intently, and it made so much sense, but maybe she had voiced her joy at bit too eagerly.

”I understand, Master, but I want you have faith in me. I am not bred to be a killer. I am bred to be a warrior - to serve. You are my Master. I will serve you until the end. Because you told me to kill these people, I did. I understood they were our enemy and they were a threat, and it bore me no pain to kill them. I feel no remorse.”

She brushed her hair over one shoulder.

”I don't want to be a mindless brute, like the soldiers, like the Jedi Knights. I will not kill because I can. I will kill because I must. I will learn other ways to pass by our enemy.” Joon bit her lip, and sniggered. ”I've looked at my body and I know men like this sort of thing, and I've seen manipulation and deception are a powerful tool so...”

With a little sigh, she sat upright and placed her hands over her chest.

”Sith don't have to use the Force to distract their enemy, do they?”

She broke into a laugh, shaking her hand at Ayra, trying to say sorry, but she was too busy laughing at herself - laughing. She'd not done that for a long time. It was such a surreal situation she was in, she had to laugh.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra waited until Justiciara stopped laughing. She said: "You're right. The Force can be used to coerce or even force another into doing something that they either wouldn't normally do or don't want to do. But there are other tools available to us. Manipulation is a powerful weapon. The idea is to give another an idea that they believe that is theirs, but in reality it was your own. Unknowingly, they are completing your idea for you. See?"

Perhaps it was the conceited side of Darth Ayra that spoke next. "I think that we are genetically superior to the average Human. Our beauty is something for us to use. It will help us achieve our goals. Men and women who find us attractive will in turn be more susceptible to us. Once again, however, you will have to learn the subtle nuances of behaviour and interaction, otherwise you will be revealed for who you truly are."

"You aren't a mindless brute. You are Sith. My Apprentice." Turning her gaze to the tarp, Darth Ayra yawned, stifling it with a fist. It was a practiced behaviour that she had picked up. Manners were important to most. "We should sleep. We may not get the chance to rest like this for a long time. I do not know who Freedon Nadd was- I only learned of his name a few days ago, when we were at the Home- but if he was a Dark Lord of the Sith, as the Black Tie Syndicate came to believe he was, then it is likely that there will be certain defences in place to stop us from taking what was buried alongside him."

Laying down on the bed, Darth Ayra could faintly smell perfume. This must have been the woman's bed, she thought. Turning her back to Justiciara, and the oil lamp between them, Ayra shut her eyes in an attempt to fall asleep.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon calmed a little, the laugh fading into a smile, and then a complacent stare. Again, her Master made sense, and again her Master made her understand a little more about the way biology was as powerful as the Force.

Letting Ayra prepare for sleep, Joon nodded to her, a bow of the head, and watched her turn over as the rain continued outside and the warm lamp between them continued to give out mild heat and a burning glow - ironic they had razed the camp down moments before and were now acting as if nothing had even happened.

Lying on her back, on the slightly disheveled bed, she pulled the sheet around to get a little comfortable. It was still unusual not having the confided space of a pod to hold her in, but she was getting used to the freedom of sleeping. She lazily turned her head, watching Ayra. She didn't know what to feel now - happy with her that they seemed to have bonded, or annoyed that this was probably going to be forgotten in the morning.

She didn't want to disturb her sleeping with talk, so she just laid and watched as long as she could before sleep would claim her.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Rolling from her side and onto her back, Darth Ayra allowed her eyes to open. Through the canopy of the tent, she saw day light, which cast an orange hue over her. Sitting up right, the Dark Lord found her Lightsaber in her hand, cold, hard and reliable. Pushing the overalls off her body, Darth Ayra stood up, stretching her body to fight off the effects of sleep. Approaching her clothes, she felt that they were still damp from the night before, as she had expected.

She dressed, pulling on her Sith robes and under garments until she was once again clothed. Clipping her Lightsaber onto her belt, Darth Ayra then walked over to Justiciara and knelt down. Shaking her awake, she said: "It's time. Get dressed." Rising back up, Darth Ayra stepped out of the tent and into the camp. Her eyes surveyed the area, falling upon the burned remnants of Yawah the Zabrak and Rax the Twi'lek's tent. The other tents remained as they were, undisturbed for the moment, awaiting the return of it's late owners.

Walking forwards, Darth Ayra felt the scrunch of mud beneath her boots as she made her way to the bodies that littered the ground. Horrified faces, screwed up in a mixture of pain, terror and sadness looked up at the Dark Lord of the Sith as she surveyed them. Stopping, Darth Ayra averted her gaze from them to the tent she had just vacated, waiting for Justiciara to join her.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Her eyes gently opened. She wasn't in a deep sleep, and had been awake now and then for over an hour, but the command from her Master stirred her enough to know the time to get up was now. As Ayra left, Joon stretched out, rolled onto her stomach and gently got up, limbering her arms and head.

Sitting there for a second, she composed herself enough to stand and walk to her clothes, again as if nothing had happened the night before. Her clothes were still damp, but what could she do.

Dressing herself, her hair falling down her shoulders, she blinked to adjust to the morning light which made the carnage a lot more tolerable away from the rain. The smoldering tents still smoked and half-burnt bodies remained, and those who suffered at her blade still lay where they fell. Joon ignored it all and walked towards the waiting Sith, and milled around where she stood looking at the tent.

”Ready when you are, Master. I trust you slept well?”

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

"Quite," Darth Ayra replied to Justiciara's question, when she caught up. "We have to cover our tracks. The last time I met with the leader of the Black Tie Syndicate, a Crime Lord who calls herself Miss Blonde, she deduced my allegiance to the dark side of the Force. She possesses an artifact that made me feel nauseous and sickly when I was placed in it's vicinity. It was an unforeseen tell."

"She suspects that I am a Sith Lord, which of course I am, but I did not want her or our other associates in the organization to be aware of it. Although this deduction of who I truly am is based on circumstantial evidence, if Miss Blonde were to discover these bodies, then I would surely get the blame." Darth Ayra kicked over one of the bodies, admiring the great wound in the Rodian's chest from where the plasma beam of a Lightsaber had connected. "She wouldn't be able to prove that I was ever here- and I have a cover, just in case I was ever asked- but the thing with these criminals is that they don't deal much on evidence, but rather raw instinct and the gut feeling they get. It's shoot first and ask questions later with these people."

Leaning her head onto her shoulder as she contemplated over their next course of action, Darth Ayra decided that she would once again test Justiciara. "How would you suggest we deal with this scenario?"

 

[Connor Harrison]

With the Sith's words, the situation became real again. Joon knew she had one purpose now - to take a title of Sith Lord. Sith Lord, wow. Lord? That made her giddy. She could never be a Lord. But, back to reality, she had a path to walk to get there - learn from Ayra, protect Ayra. That was it.

Rubbing her hands together, Joon bridged her fingers together under her nose and paced around both the muddy ground and crispy embers and broken body parts.

She processed everything Ayra said; the Black Tie Syndicate. This 'Miss Blonde'. The artifact.

”The bodies bearing lightsaber wounds will be a clear indication of who is responsible; they need to go. Either we take them back to our ship and ditch them in space one by one or we burn them to ash. The rest, we can simply leave and assume raiders stormed the camp. The women and children, torn clothes - sexual violence. The men, heavy wounds; first to be attacked. Searching for riches and goods they may or may not have.”

Joon span slowly and tapped her chin, looking into the air for answers.

”Like you said, give them something to see and judge with their eyes. Manipulate their senses. If it means I am to stand by you as an acquaintance, then maybe I should take that step and learn what you know about how to deal with criminals and crooks. Maybe I help with this Miss Blonde if I am not as sensitive to the Force as you?”

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra nodded as she listened to her Apprentice, as she analyzed the situation, formed factors and came up with solutions. It made sense and it mimicked a similar train of thought that she herself had begun to formulate. Despite the precarious situation that they found themselves in, Darth Ayra endeavored to continue challenging her Apprentice at every moment. Even if, at any moment, a predator from the surrounding forest moved in, drawn in from the scent of the bodies that were piled around them; or the realistic possibility that someone- anyone- could check in with the camp, whether by comlink or in person and consequentially begin a series of events that would lead to the discovery of the massacre that Darth Ayra and her Apprentice had wrought upon Dxun.

"You catch on quickly, my Apprentice. Yes, we will coerce the inevitable discovery of this camp into believing something else. Your train of thought has merit, but there are holes in the story. How would we explain the missing bodies? We must keep in mind that there maybe an investigation involving the closer examination and inspection of the bodies. A skilled biopsy would reveal our deception. The fact that someone then spent the time and effort to hide their crimes would deepen the mystery, warranting further investigation into our efforts."

It had been almost a day since Darth Ayra last had something to drink and the signs were beginning to show. Her throat and mouth felt dry. Her lips were cracked and died. She also felt the faint sensation of pain in her head, no doubt a sign of a brewing headache borne out of dehydration. Licking her lips to wet them, she said: "There will come a time when you will meet these Crime Lords and other associates I have made. But you are not yet ready. When I deem you so, you will be the first to know. You must become a Sith first before you can join me in our deceptions and orchestrations. The dark side of the Force hides those who are properly in tune with it and we, the Sith, are it's manifestations in physical form. You are well on your way to completing your transformation from seminal clone to a true Lord of the Sith."

Looking back down at the bodies, Darth Ayra said: "I wish I had brought with me my disruptor pistol. I left it back at the Fort, on Sojourn, when we left for Korriban. I didn't anticipate that I would need it. If we had it, I could disintegrate these bodies at a microscopic level. Then it would be left to the imagination of our unknown foes as to what to make of their discovery of this camp, long after we have left this moon."

"First, let us deal with the equipment laying around the camp. We will harvest the provisions and supplies, so that we can replenish ourselves. I am thirsty and hungry. I know that you are as well. We must also look for any comlinks or devices that could be used to transmit off Dxun and break them. Perhaps the Black Tie Syndicate have associates as close as Onderon or as far away as Antecedent, but irregardless, when they fail to make contact with the camp, someone will be sent. If we are lucky, we will have as long as a week to complete our business. If not, as long as a few hours."

Stepping over the late Rodian male, Darth Ayra moved past Justiciara and made her way to a nearby tent, beginning her search. "We will put what we find in the tent we slept in last night, Justiciara. Let's move quickly. Time is of the essence."

 

[Connor Harrison]

”Of course.”

Taking everything in like a sponge, all the hidden praise and criticisms, the Apprentice nodded to her Master.

With that, Joon began to search the side of the camp Ayra wasn't. Starting in the obvious place, behind their base tent, she crouched by a metal rod and three wooden containers. The rod looked like a cane or something to hunt with. Pulling open the first container, Joon scooped up some golden corn, trailing it through her hand and looking at it curiously. The second pulled open and contained hard bread rolls. The third contained dry fruit. With a small smile, Joon approved. It was something.

Dragging each wooden cylinder back to the front of the tent, she then began sifting through the remains of the tent opposite to the left. Kicking ash and wooden poles and fabric with her boot, she came across a broken datapad, a half-burnt satchel and some bone.

They were dumped by the containers. Joon moved to the next, standing over a body.

She knelt and used her hands to shift through the ash and soot, hands becoming grubby and black. She found a hand-held blaster and another long metal rod, which puzzled her. Taking the weapon and the rod, they too were dumped in the opening, and her hands brushed together. She looked for Ayra, feeling that the two were reaching a mutual understanding. It was hard, but she was learning her place and what possibly lay ahead.

[member="Darth Ayra"]