Private A Swinging Pendulum

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

An invisible pressure had steadily risen and the Colonel could only describe it as her skin crawling. The duration aboard the ship was short, and she had spent it part in her own mind. When they had reached the resting place of Kings of old, she was left holding a breath. The Force as little of it the Lyra understood was thick and rife in the air. When the ramp hit the ground, it revealed the sun and it left a hue over the valley eerily similar to blood. Wavering before she stepped out into the waste, crossing the threshold beholden to the sight. Her eyes roamed over the cut of the valley. Old monuments and some no better than rubble. The place was ancient.

How many people had walked this very road?

Lyra exhaled deeply, she had heard of this place in passing like one speaks of old gods and myths. She had no names, no idea of the history laid beneath her. The city had felt like white noise, a flowing river but standing here there was an undeniable hum; constant and loud. The woman made no quip, nor sound for that matter, taking a few steps out into the valley; entrapted. It was cold, even in the face of the sun. The Colonel seemingly forgot the Sith at her side. Her boots mute as she trekked across the sand into the shadow of the tombs. How far did it stretch? She didn't care, determined to walk the length as if something whispered come and see... Her worries were squashed to the far recesses of her mind and curiosity took hold. The stoic nature she wore chipping away as she crossed carved stone and statues, the corner of her lip quirking up. The valley was intoxicating.

 

[Avernus]

The Sith Lord grinned something sinister when he felt the change in her demeanor. He could no longer detect anxiety or fear, and instead picking up on her sudden feeling of entrancing curiosity. He could feel the secondhand, residual effects of whatever called out to her. An exciting prospect to think that something within the dark side had suddenly reached out to the colonel. He hasn't expected this, but he was never one to complain when something went his way. He walked slowly behind her, quietly as not to disturb the peculiar state that had come over her.

It was working.
​

The will of the dark side couldn't be denied. She was very strong in the force, that was clear. She had been too stubborn or perhaps too naive to understand the nature of the dark side through simple demonstrations. No one with the capability to perceive the force would dare deny the power that could be felt here. Even those oblivious to its power couldn't deny the tombs and statues that lined the cold, ominous valley. It struck an odd parallel to the world of business; you may speak to someone of an opportunity, but sometimes what is truly required is to show them the money.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

There was almost a cobbled road left and her boots scuffed the errant stones as she walked through the valley, passing dusty outcrops and pillars alike. She had been used to the dry and arid nature of the Epitaph, but the coldness here was seeping into her bones. The sun didn’t touch these parts of the canyon at this hour. Her path ahead was marked by a scattered group of sandstone pillars and she trailed through them chasing what was left of the light. Rolling her shoulders, a hollow wind swept up through the canyon filling her ears; roaring. She was expecting a muffled noise in the face of the dampeners on her helm but..she wasn’t wearing one.

She had only just scratched the surface of the valley ruins when her pace began to dwindle, lagging as fatigue licked her heels. There was too much to see and too little time and Lyra circled around slowly taking in the split of the canyon and different temples. The hum hadn’t ceased but her feet were lead and couldn’t follow any single pull, closing her eyes she almost found it serene.

Too often she was cloistered behind her armor choking under the hold of durasteel, it had been that way for the last decade. The only time her feet ever touched planet side was when boots were needed on the ground; enforcement. Lyra was standing tall and the breeze inked with salt, and something heavy slipped from her hand. Pale eyes snapped open and she found herself turned around, staring at Avernus, not that far off. Her brows furrowed as she stuffed her hands in her pockets, hands aching. Instinctively she raised her foot a little higher as she stepped forward, not to trip on whatever..Lyra realized the absurdity of the action a second later when her boot hit the ground. Glancing down down the tops of her shoes were well scuffed now and dusty from the excursion. She had dropped her helmet, that was the only thing that held that kind of weight, and she searched the sand..It wasn’t there, stark white and blood would really stand out in the middle of a desert after all. The parting gift from Foelende was draped across her face, stitched together haphazardly. Scoffing it was a figment of her imagination, hallucinations-and every soldier experienced them after thirty six hours of no rest on deployment.

The Colonels shook her head, sweeping a hand through her hair. Lyra hadn't time for that kind of fear, knowing what happened next. Glancing back toward Avernus tilting her head with an appraising look.

"You said you can teach me?"

 

[Avernus]

Avernus smiled, the corners of his mouth reaching for his ears with portentous glee. He each of his hands on either of her shoulders and squared her up to face him. He took a step back, looking down on his upcoming apprentice with his fiery Sith retinas. It had taken some effort, but he wasn't going to allow someone as strong in the force as she was to slip through his fingers. Individuals with her potential would be a valuable asset in the near future, and it was his duty as a lord to uplift those with the potential to become Sith.

"If you wish to learn, you must kneel. Kneel before me and pledge yourself to me as your master, and declare yourself my apprentice. I will teach you everything you could ever possibly wish to know about the dark side, and more. You have the potential for great power, and I can help you realize that potential."

This was the home stretch, the final step in sealing this deal. With the Colonel as his apprentice, a number of doors opened that he hadn't had access to before. On top of that, he believed she could prove to be an apprentice more powerful than any of his others had the potential to be. It was intoxicating to think of the things they could achieve together.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Lyra regarded the Sith with calculating eyes, his hands heavy upon her shoulders amidst his joyous assessment. Trust was far too kind of a word to place in him, nor was this an olive branch; only an investment. The Colonel considered Tavlar if only for the briefest moment, one decade of running and denial. One of many hard truths to face. The spikes of doubt, over-rational thoughts were zealously crushed by possibility. Adrenaline coursed under her skin and it was an echo of the day she had put her name into the Imperial database. There had been liberation when she simply enlisted.

She’d be playing by a whole new set of rules, but it was a slippery slope to dance along. The Colonel wasn’t the nightmarish stuff they whispered about in the hangars when a Sith walked the Epitaph. Her eyes were set on a simpler goal that superseded knowledge, and she only had so much to lose. The Colonel shrugged off his hands, it was hunt or be hunted. Taking a measured step back as she lowered herself to one knee before him; the cold seeping from the earth into her bones.

“I recognize you as my..master and pledge myself as your apprentice.”

 

[Avernus]

Darth Avernus looked down upon his new apprentice. He began to laugh in a vaguely ominous fashion, taking a step forward to loom portentously over her. He took in the image of her kneeling before him, reveling in this moment of superiority. "Excellent," he declared in a gratified tone, speaking through the grin that had been plastered across his face since she succumbed to the notion of being taught the ways of the dark side.

"You are strong in the force, my apprentice. Beneath my tutelage, you will ascend to heights which you have yet to even fathom in your understanding of the force. Taking on a Sith name is usually reserved for those who ascended beyond the rank of apprentice but as my pupil, and with the coming changes I have foreseen, you will be just as much a Sith as any. Thus, and henceforth, you will be known as Darth..."

Avernus released control of the words that came forward from his lips to the dark side. He called upon the the dark side search within him, and within his apprentice, commanding the force to conceptualize the name it would bestow upon her. The pause in his declaration seemed brief, but it was as if the dark side searched every moment of her past and future to materialize a name upon the lips of Darth Avernus. It was without will or effort that the force asserted the name upon his tongue, finally succumbing to the Darth's will.

"...Sybila."

The name had a nice ring to it, or at least Avernus thought so. 'Darth Sybila', it was a name that made Avernus feel an odd sense of pride, though the name was not truly his doing. Darth Avernus was merely the vessel that drew the name from the depths of the dark side.

"No longer will you struggle with your connection to the dark side. No, in fact, you will seize it. Sith make the force serve them, for Sith do not serve."

Darth Avernus would gesture for his apprentice to rise.

"You are not my servant, but my student. I will teach you, lead you, and even occasionally command you, but never forget that you are Sith. 'Sith' means perfection in my tongue. Individualism is the epitome of perfection. You will rise to heights many Sith only ever dream of, this much I have foreseen."

Avernus would turn, and begin to walk back towards his ship gesturing for the newly proclaimed Darth Sybila to follow him.

"There are those who will find your title an affront to their own, considering you are but an apprentice. They will challenge it."

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

The name bequeathed to her upon her birth had been a strong, simple name. Favorable for the common imperial. Lyra, upon inspecting Imperial Census had grown to hate it, a million were in possession of the same moniker. When she rose from the sand, her hands brushed down the front of the crimson coat. Her gait strong and quick as she fell in beside him. Voi’kryt though, V with her hands flashed; a call sign crowned under blaster fire. Sybila lacked the outlandish flair she might of associated with their order, but it rested nicely at the tip of her tongue.

None the less she had become something of great censure. The fall out inevitable and the disgust made it’s nest in her chest. If not today, tomorrow, or a year from now would the truth clash. Hesitance found no home in her thoughts, she was past that point. Asking forgiveness was easier then begging permission.

The knowledge at the end of this path, the tools were appealing enough but the Sith’s ideals; his vision. To say what lay in her mind’s eye did not coincide would be inappropriate, but the dominance and power he foreshadowed..her ambitions were simply a shade grayer. Perhaps that was her shortcoming. A thin dark brow cocked as he laid a new title out before her, Darth meant nothing to her yet. If she claimed it, the cement would quicken and take hold. The woman squared her shoulders by habit, her head tilting to glance at her..mentor.

“When you speak of challenges, tell me are the Sith no better then a rowdy bunch of recruits, brawling?‌ If things do not so as much go there way?‌ I am here to pursue conventionality. If they haven’t noticed there are greater disputes before us."

 

[Avernus]

Darth Avernus watched with some twisted sense of pride as his apprentice rose to her feet. Another student of the dark side was another individual to help ascend the Sith to where they belonged. Individual power was the drive for all Sith, and through that power, they as a whole could claim their rightful place in the galaxy. The only thing that had stopped them thus far was the resistance of the majority, the refusal of the jealous masses to accept their place. Each new Sith, should they be a success, was one step closer to making everything right.

Darth Avernus held up his left hand, his index finger extended. "Your first lesson; Do not equate the squabbles and affairs of non-Sith to the affairs of Sith. The weight and motivations behind the actions of others differ from ours and thus do not equate to each other. You are still naive to Sith philosophy to no fault of your own, so I do not expect to understand, but in time you will."

For most Sith masters, that 'lesson' would have been the end of this conversation, but Avernus was far from conventional by today's standard. Darth Sybila was, from his observation, likely too situationally analytical to accept such a response. Her time in the imperial military had probably done much to train that aspect of her to become even stronger. Avernus paused for a moment as he thought of a better way to put it.

"When two soldiers brawl, for what reason do they act? A disagreement? The heat of the moment? On the surface, the actions of a Sith may seem no different, but you must remember that a Sith is an ultimate individual. When a Sith acts on a whim, on emotion, even in the heat of the moment, it all serves to prove their strength, and such conflict ascends the strong to their place. You did not earn your rank of Colonel by being like everyone else. No, you proved yourself, you proved yourself more capable, stronger. Sith work in a similar fashion, but in a far more extreme fashion. This level of extremity inspires conflict, and conflict is the vessel in which the strong ascend. Was your journey through the ranks not one of conflict? Not just in war, but competing with other candidates to prove yourself most capable as well? Conflict is the nature of the universe. Everything exists through conflict, living beings both sentient and otherwise all exist through conflict. To feed, to breed, to win, to succeed, it is all conflict. Even the force itself is subject to conflict, the dark, and the light. Sith are the embodiment of perfection through conflict. In all things, the strongest ascend to the top through conflict, and the top of all things is the throne of the Sith, beckoning for us to claim it. There is everything conventional about becoming what you are meant to be. We wield the power of the dark side, thus our actions carry weight above the actions of all else. That is what separates us from everyone else; The willingness to accept and embrace the true nature of existence."

There was another pause after this long-winded explanation. Avernus inhaled audibly through his nose before addressing her final point.

"The greater disputes before us all come down to the ascension of the strong through the vessel of conflict. The 'conventionality' you seek can be obtained in claiming the power to come out on the victorious side of the coming 'disputes'."

Avernus' expression hardened into a far more serious one. The intonation is his voice became far more grim.

"You will become a Sith worthy of your new name. You will show all those who challenge your Sith name, 'Darth Sybila' why you deserve such a title."

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

The philosophy weighed heavily upon her and Lyra struggled amidst the throes of her own logical process. To simply dominate, it was a disgusting simplification of what she desired but weighing the option of brooking argument..and simply understanding. This was a fight she had no interest picking with the Sith, the outcome would be rather for nothing. Let him spin his own webs and expectations. There would always be exceptions to some ideal or situation, argument, counter argument-in a worse case scenario.

She was trained to prepare for such and produce results. What was another fight?

A thin brow raised and the woman simply nodded her head, accepting his explanation. He had made it clear himself there were no shackles that weighed upon her. The elevation he placed upon the caste, their caste..She was one of them now, come what may the woman supposed. Her opinion and belief exercised later, when she understood the rest. When she cared to brook argument, when lines had to be drawn. And such Lyra held her tongue. Appreciating the detail had been gone to, the lesson within itself mattered. There were shades of danger lay behind a keen mind and Lyra's eyes narrowed, something foreboding washed over her.

...why you deserve such a title..​

“So be it,” Lyra clipped, resolute and acquiescing. She had been molded under such pressures.”Onward and upward than?"

The Colonel gestured toward the mouth of the valley, where the ship lay in wait as darkness was settling in fast around them.

Avernus