Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Cold Desert [Ask]

| [member="Joon"] |

Darth Ayra stopped in her tracks, turning suddenly on her apprentice. Scorching across her mind, a bright white light of hate swarmed over the mind of the Sith, at the sudden outburst from JN-4. But Ayra was weak. Her torso continued to weep crimson red onto the barren, desolate sands of Korriban. Her mind throbbed, the headache a byproduct of the Initium's sudden crash into the desert. And she longed to enter a dreamless, heavy sleep, which told her that she was concussed from the accident.

Raising her hand to punish JN-4 was out of the question. She neither had the energy, the will or the drive to do so. But the dark side coursed through Ayra, running through her veins and supplying her with an almost limitless fount of power that was hers to summon at any time, for she was the dark sides most devote servant, bidding to undo the mistakes of the fake and presumptuous falsehood of the One Sith. Snarling, Ayra met JN-4's anger with her hate and through a single thought, floored the clone into the sand.

"Never presume to speak to me like that again, apprentice!" snarled Ayra, taking a step forward as if to meet JN-4 physically. "I am not required to explain myself to you! You serve me!" The sudden and brief exertion of the Force, created by her own outburst, was quickly pushed aside as Ayra was reminded of her circumstances. Her tongue felt swollen and weighted, almost occupying all of her mouth because of her thirst; and her headache reached a new level of pain, like small knives stabbing inside the cranium that was her skull.

Voice lowered, to compensate for her physical assertions, Ayra whispered, "The power of the dark side is fueled by our passions. Harness your anger at this situation, at the very thought of dying, into fueling your powers in the Force and use it to stand and continue. Pain, rage, hatred. These emotions drive our passions, supplying strength. The physical assertions that come to our physical vessels pale in comparison to the Force. Through passion, I gain strength."

It was the first real lesson that Ayra had passed onto the clone. She had been gauging, learning little by little about the woman that laid before her in the cold sands of Korriban, from the moment they had met on Duro. It was only because of her own hatred, anger and pain, born out of her previous experiences beneath the bane that was her family, Pandeima and the tribulations that had led up to their fated meeting inside the failed husk that was the JN Project, that had allowed Ayra to survive this point. If JN-4 wished to continue living- no, serving- under Darth Ayra's tutelage and gain the knowledge, power and teachings that the Sith Lord espoused, then she would have to learn the lesson now and learn it quickly, otherwise her Sith Master would leave her to die.

Harnessing those memories that made her angry; remembering those that she hated; and the pain born out of the corporal realm that was her flesh, allowed Ayra to stand up right, despite her injuries. Fueled by her passions, the Sith Lord averted her gaze from JN-4 to the cold sands. Everything that is on this world is mine by right, thought Ayra. I am the true heir of the Sith, fated to purge the weakness that has claimed my Order.

Reaching out with the dark side of the Force, Ayra called into the void of the Korriban wastes, to summon forth the most dangerous of predators. The Tuk'ata, born out of the machinations of the first Lords of the Sith, patrolled the Korriban wastes to this day, despite the centuries that followed their terrible creation. Under the pull of Ayra, drawn towards a true Dark Lord of the Sith, a giant approached the Sith Lord and the apparent heir to her legacy.

Tukata_zps1eqpzgwu.png
The Tuk'ata appeared on the horizon, screeching and roaring as it charged towards the site of the Initium crash. Drawn towards the power of the individual commanding the dark side, the beasts intentions were clear to Ayra, as was the burning star of Kalist VI to the sight of the beholder.

Bowing her head, the Sith's intention was to dominate the mind of the Tuk'ata, through her powers in the Force. Such a power was possible with the dark side, with Ayra having witnessed Pandeima do the same to the Yuuzhan Vong that had served in the Horde; and it was not the first time she had done it either, having been forced to do the same to a Rancor that had patrolled the forests of Sojourn, during one of her many excursions into the forest to discover what wildlife lived near the Fort.

And the domination that Ayra would will into the Tuk'ata would serve her in two ways. The first was obvious, given that the speed and agility of the Tuk'ata would halve the time needed to travel from the crash site to the settlement of Dreshdae. But the other was less so and could only be made by the clone that Ayra had just knocked down seconds before.

To perceive the power of the dark side and the abilities that could belong to JN-4, if she truly was the heir to Ayra's teachings and legacy, was evident by the sheer power that the Sith Lord was summoning. If she subtle showing of her power was anything to go by, then Ayra intended for the clone to truly understand the depths of the apprenticeship that she offered to JN-4. To have the ability to dominate such a beast, like the Tuk'ata and then gain the understanding that their was more that she could learn, could be considered both exhilarating and enlightening.

The Tuk'ata that charged towards them was roughly five meters in length, with a weight of twenty three kilograms. It's teeth were as razor sharp as the lightsaber that now hung on Ayra's hip and it's strength rivaled that of the Rancor that had surrendered to her will back on Sojourn, such was it's size and the increasing velocity of it's charge. Tapping into the animal mind of the Tuk'ata, Ayra could feel the energy of the dark side, so rich and plentiful in the creature; and she too fed on it's rage, hate and exhilaration, born out of a mixture of the Sith Lord responsible for it's creation and the basic instinct to attack and feed on the Human women that it now had it's ruby red, predatory eyes on.

As it neared, perspiration overcame the Sith Lord's features as she concentrated. When she dominated the Rancor on Sojourn, she had been fresh, powerful and in the company of her Sun Guards, who gave her a sense of security and a source of power, at the very notion that they followed her every command with a devotion that rivaled the Children of Mandalore. But here, on Korriban, the Sith was tired, hurt and drained, with everything taken from her Force Powers to cocoon herself and JN-4 from being destroyed from the Initium's crash.

Gritting her teeth, Ayra felt the sand around her vibrate beneath the claws and hooves of the Tuk'ata's charge. Doubt would have settled into the untrained mind at this point, coupled with regret. With mere seconds only separating the charging beast, who had literally been born out of the dark side of the Force, between Ayra and the heir to her legacy, surely she would have come to regret calling into the freezing cold wastes of Korriban, to summon this hulking Tuk'ata that was about to kill her?

But Ayra was not untrained and unlike the time on Sojourn, when she had been a mere apprentice under Darth Pandeima, she was now the Dark Lord of the Sith- the true heir to the legacy of the ancient Sith that predated her and the falsehood of the One Sith- and no animal, no man- nothing- would stop her from completing the ancient rights of the Rule of Two and cementing the power of the dark side into two- she, the Sith Master, to embody power and the other the Sith Apprentice, one who was there to crave it.

Diving it's clawed, knife like hooves into the sand, kicking it up as it skidded to a halt, the Tuk'ata came to a stop before Darth Ayra, eyes lifted into the apex predator it had surrendered too. Her eyes, rich with the full power of the dark side of the Force, stared deep into the Tuk'ata as it looked up to her, it's senses dulled and turned to serve the Dark Lord until death. Lifting a hand to rub the top of it's brow, Ayra bowed her head lower to read it's thoughts and ensure that it's surrender was complete, before she would ride it to Dreshdae.
 
Joon was quick to turn her head from Ayra who scolded her, but she wanted to – ahhhh - she wanted to run away, to shout or lash out. The rage inside was bubbling away, like she had felt in the Duro tank underwater. A test the clones had been put through, to be pushed close to death and experience the moments before your body shut down – anger at yourself, anger at them, anger and regret.

However, she also turned herself away and backed off from the mighty Tuk'ata; a beast unlike anything Joon had seen in her life. She gasped and felt nauseous and scared, moving her body behind Ayra and dropping to the ground in a sheltered ball to protect herself from whatever came – but nothing did.

The ground vibrated, and there was a deep animalistic noise from the beast of grunts and stamping feet. It took a while for Joon to turn and look at the large black creature, a vision so demonic it had surely come from below. She watched Ayra and her power of harnessing the beast, their strange bond forming, the Dark Side power working on an animal too?

She wanted to curl up and die; to be with the JN clones again. This wasn’t the life promised on Duro. But if Ayra was the only one telling her the truth and the only one able to help, she had no choice.

With the Sith beckoning her, Joon slowly followed suit with Ayra as she mounted the beast. Her heat racing, her vision blurred and her mouth dry, muscles weak and feeble, Joon held onto the fabric of Ayra’s shoulders and closed her eyes tight, praying it would all be over soon.

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 
| [member="Joon"] |

The animalistic tendencies of the Tuk'ata filled Darth Ayra's brain. Images poured forth, supplying the Sith Lord with knowledge. She watched, as the Tuk'ata before drove it's teeth into other wildlife found on the barren wastes of Korriban, to the point that she too could taste the congealed taste of blood that was supplied the moment the Tuk'ata begun it's feast. As her powers washed over the Tuk'ata, dominating it's mind and making it subservient to her, a feeling of exhilaration of the beasts many hunts washed over the Sith Lord, fueling her powers in the dark side, lifting away the fatigued that had claimed her following the Initium's crash.

Feeling rejuvenated, the power of the dark side coursing through her veins, the facial features of Darth Ayra seemed to transform in the tremor created by her powers in the Force. Her hair seemed alive in the dark side, with the strands of dark blonde hair almost sticking on end. Her face seemed to contort in the power of the dark side, becoming an ivory white, further defining her crimson red lips and yellow, predatory eyes. Caught on the homeworld of the Sith, Darth Ayra was no longer required to maintain the facade of Alicia Drey, and whilst she remained beautiful, there was now a darker, monstrous shade to the Sith Lord, as she used her powers in the dark side to fuel her survival in the Korriban wastes.

Leaping up onto the back of the Tuk'ata, Ayra settled herself onto the ridge of the beasts back, grabbing hold of the nearby spikes for support. Suddenly, the beast beneath her begun to move on it's own accord, stirred by something crawling along it's back. Turning violently to JN-4, Ayra was suddenly reminded of her quarry. Caught up in the Tuk'atas mind, rushed by the exhilaration of the dark side, she had briefly forgotten the woman that had accompanied her to the graveyard of the Sith.

Before she could climb onto the Tuk'ata, to join Darth Ayra on the beasts back, the Sith Lord pushed her hand out to JN-4 and gave her a light nudge through the Force. The Force Blow wasn't as powerful as the one Ayra had dispelled minutes ago, so it wouldn't knock the wind out of JN-4 again, but it was enough to send the clone crumpling back down into the sand.

Under the machinations of Darth Ayra, the Tuk'ata begun to walk around, until it's monstrous face and eyes turned to face JN-4. Above, the Sith Lord lowered her cold gaze to her, face stern and stoic. "No," she croaked to JN-4 and became clear. She would not be riding the Tuk'ata to Dreshdae because Ayra would not allow it. The Sith wanted the clone to hate her. Drawn at the prospect of a suddenly easy ride to Dreshdae, perhaps even a momentary time to rest her aching body and hunger strewn mind, Darth Ayra ripped away any chance of JN-4 joining her on the back of the Tuk'ata.

If JN-4 was to become the heir to the legacy of the Sith and one day secede Darth Ayra as the Sith Master in the Rule of Two, the clone would need to hone her passions. Fueled by her hatred, rage and pain, the dark side of the Force would be JN-4's to harness, supplying her with a strength. "Through passion, I gain strength," said Ayra lowly, her throat seeming to rip itself apart as she struggled to speak her raspy explanation. "If you are truly worthy of becoming my apprentice, you must learn to hate. To be driven by hunger and strive to survive. If you are truly worthy of the honorific of becoming Sith, you will walk to Dreshdae and survive this desert. And if you die? Then you were weak and unworthy of my teachings."

Dropping the Lenoi I at the feet of JN-4, it landing with a soft thud on the cold sand, the Tuk'ata turned away from JN-4 and rushed off into the dunes, with Darth Ayra sat on it's back. Kicking up a dust cloud of sand onto JN-4 as it run off, the specter of Darth Ayra and the beast she had lured to her with her powers of the dark side grew smaller and smaller, as she and the monster disappeared into the horizon.
 
She hadn’t even settled before she was pushed back onto the hard, cool desert sand, the impact hard enough to knock her head and arms back into the sand itself like she’d been sat on. Joon just lay there, confused, looking up at the stirring beast and Ayra, who once more revealed her intent for the clone to feel hatred and anger. The datapad was dropped, and the Sith took her ride away and off into the distance. Joon was alone.

Laying on the sand, head falling back, she closed her eyes and rolled over slowly, lazily pushing up onto weak knees and resting her palms on the ground. She was tired, and upset. Head low, she felt exhausted and betrayed – betrayed again. Deceived. Abused. Left like an experiment. She was NOT anyone’s experiment. She was the last of a warrior race.

All of a sudden she felt like a fountain of adrenalin was rushing up inside her; overwhelming her to a point she had to scream. She screamed loud, breaking her voice, but she kept screaming – a broken cry of anger and rage, he fingers digging through the orange and pushing down hard. She saw the small ripples pulse outwards in the sand, and that enraged her more.

She screamed again, eyes closed and she embraced the hatred she was feeling to Ayra – the woman who had lied to her like Asemir and left her for dead. As her voice box gave way, Joon had bleary vision, tears of hate. Reeling forwards, her sand covered hands reached to her dirty hair and she pulled hard on either side – she wanted to cause pain, she wanted to feel pain to know she was alive.

She pulled her hair through gritted teeth as hard as she could, imaging she was pulling Ayra’s. And with a gasp, she stopped, looking a state, and stood up, grabbing the datapad, but not before kicking it with her heel to crack the screen. And again. It was Ayra’s property, but she didn’t care.

While the now cracked and dark screen was still working and mapped a yellow route on a blue map to their destination of Dreshdae, Joon wouldn’t get there quickly if she walked. So she started in a slow shuffle, a half-jog, half-run, as much as her weak body would let her across the desert dotted with brown rocks, old temple debris and space junk. Anything she could salvage water from she would, and anything she could eat, she would – she was not going to be left to die by a woman like the Sith and give her sisters a bad name; she would find Ayra and hurt her if it was the last thing she did, and then she would hurt others because….she wanted to.

Her unstable DNA was certainly starting to react with the swelling Dark Side emotions inside…

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 
korriban.jpg
| [member="Joon"] |

Wind assaulting her hair, face and body, caused by the speed that the Tuk'ata charged with, Darth Ayra allowed her eyes to observe the cold desert that she traveled along, to the only settlement found on the graveyard world. The power of the dark side was prevalent here, she felt. Unlike the lush and wild forests of Sojourn; the warm farmlands and techno eccentric cultists of Chandrila; or the many criminal underworlds that she had visited in the Hutt Cartel or Black Tie Syndicate, Korriban held an ancient power in the dark side of the Force. Whilst the aforementioned worlds held a pull to the dark side, with Sojourn being the former home a Dark Lord of the Sith; Chandrila, who was slowly starving to death; or the exploits of the Hutt and crime lords that the Dark Lord associated with, each adding to the power of the dark side, none of them could compare to the ancient power on the homeworld of the Sith.

Darth Ayra had felt the pull of the dark side many times, however. When she had murdered her Master on that fateful night on Coruscant, on the same night that Darth Junra betrayed the One Sith, she had felt the conference of the mantle that Darth Pandeima had held transfer itself to Darth Ayra, as if the dark side had anointed her for finally succumbing to the individualistic tendencies that the dark side required for a Sith Lord to truly make it their property.

She had visited Coruscant many times under Darth Pandeima, when she had been forced to stand side by side with the One Sith pretenders, Darth Ayra had felt the dark side spread across the planet. Without the Jedi Order to repel the machinations of the dark side- power, strength, deceit, betrayal, pain- the Coruscanti were a people made to suffer under the bane of the Sith, contrary to the popular propaganda campaigns launched by the Hands and Voices of the One Sith. She had on fed on this power whenever she had visited the Core, adding to her strength and power in the dark side.

She had fought at the Battle of Kashyyyk, when the Dark Lord had battled the long lost Sith Lord Meric Nadun to the death- culminating in his defeat- allowing her to feed on the hatred, rage and pain of her Sith adversary, whilst at the same time, allowing her to do the exact same thing to the Wookiees, Jedi and the infantry that served the Galactic Republic, who all fell and died around her beneath the assault that had inevitably claimed the Wookiee homeworld from the decadent Republic. Darth Ayra, the same Sith Lord that uncovered the long lost world of Kursid, leading the slaughter against the tribesmen, to renew the traditions of the Order of the Sith Lords, felt that all of those paled in comparison to the world that she now rode across. Tapping into the ethereal wrappings of the dark side, Ayra felt that there was something on Korriban that was hers to take.

Hours elapsed, during which Darth Ayra was caught in the external and internal storms of the dark side. Coursing through her veins, never before had she ever felt so powerful, despite the corporal body that she inhabited slowly fading her as time went on. Lesser beings would have died beneath the defences of the Stygian Caldera. They would have been crushed and burned away by the destruction of the Initium. But not Darth Ayra. Despite her thirst and fatigue, the small hours she had spent on the ancient homeworld of the Sith made her feel reinvigorated, in the same way that her battle with the Kursid tribesmen had done on the eve of her challenge for the mantle of Sith Master. As Darth Pandeima fell beneath the powers of her beloved Sith Apprentice, so too would the Jedi; and the weakness that had claimed the Sith Order, undoubtedly born from the Four Hundred Year Darkness, would be eradicated by her powers in the Force and purged, allowing her and her apprentice to center the dark side in two, as it should have always been.

This enlightenment pulled Darth Ayra out of the ethereal realm of the dark side and back into the corporal, as she thought about the woman that she had just left behind. Despite the miles that the Tuk'ata had put between Ayra and JN-4, the Sith Lord felt the hatred and rage within her unleashed. The Force is strong with her, Ayra conceded silently. But could she one day succeed me?

The silent thoughts made Darth Ayra wonder if JN-4 would make it to Dreshdae. What state would she find JN-4, if the clone did make it? Would her fatigue and thirst overcome her body? Or would the dark side be so strong in her, that her physical limitations paled in comparison to her dark side powers? Korriban was under the domain of the Silver Sanctum now. No doubt, the citizens of Dreshdae would notice an Sith Apprentice, if JN-4 did not show any self control. If a report was made to the Jedi who ruled the Silver Sanctum, then it would end badly for them both. Darth Ayra had entered Korriban under stealth and she planned to leave the same way.

Concerned that JN-4 might reveal their presence on Korriban, already knowing that she would make it through the desert to Dreshdae, Darth Ayra lowered her eyes to the beast beneath her. In the horizon, the Korriban settlement was hazy to the eye, with a sandstorm brewing outside it's buildings. She was almost there. Her eyes set on the Tuk'ata, Darth Ayra felt the beast stir despite her powers dominating it's mind. She knew that it felt it's death was imminent. The survival instincts found in all creatures captured the imagination of the Sith Lord. It was those same instincts that would allow JN-4 to conquer the Korriban desert and make it to Dreshdae.

Even under the machinations of the Dark Lord, she felt her claim over the Tuk'atas mind slipping, as it's survival instincts told it that she was about to murder him. A snarl escaped the beasts lips, but before it could drive it's hooves into the sand and knock Darth Ayra off with the momentum of it's charge, the Sith Lord lit her lightsaber into the air with a snap hiss and drove it towards the base of the Tuk'atas skull. Death would have been instantaneous, with the crimson blade driven deep into the base of the beasts skull, eviscerating brain tissue; tearing frontal lobes; and destroying all traces of the Tuk'atas life.

Instead, the red light of Darth Ayra's lightsaber glanced off the Tuk'atas head, like it had impacted armour as strong and resistant as Mandalorian iron. A shriek escaped the Tuk'ata as it roared, the attempt on it's life breaking Darth Ayra's control. Suddenly, rising from it's sides emerged two wing like appendages on the creatures side. They rose, aiming to drive their pincers into the Sith Lord's back and shoulder, it's poison pincers gleaming in the light of the Horuset star looming above.

Darth Ayra released her own snarl, spinning her lightsaber into the path of the left appendage. This time, the crimson light struck home, tearing through skin, sinew, muscle and bone, to cleave the wing clean off the Tuk'ata. But her reactions were dulled, born out of her efforts to break through the Stygian Caldera, the crash that had followed and the hours of travel between the remnants of the Initium and Dreshdae. Releasing a scream, Darth Ayra felt the poisonous pincer on the other wing like appendage of the Tuk'ata break into her shoulder, injecting her with a poison that made the Dark Lord feel like her body was set ablaze.

She had to kill this Tuk'ata. It had done her a service by bringing her to Dreshdae, but if Silver Sanctum were given awareness that a Human female had waltz up to the settlement on the back of the beast, then they would undoubtedly conclude that a Sith Lord was on Korriban and respond accordingly. Pain became Darth Ayra's world, with heavy lines of red and white flashes of light erupting across her synapses. Raising it's hind legs, the Tuk'ata drove it's front hooves into the sand and kicked up to send the Dark Lord off it's back and into the dirt below.

With a thud, Darth Ayra landed in the sand, her lightsaber dropping out of her hand from the impact and shutting off near the feet of her opponent. The Tuk'ata bore it's three rows of teeth, raised it's eight inch claws and it's three horns gleamed dangerously, as it prepared to go in for the kill. Enraged by the loss of it's appendage and the attempt made on it's life, the Tuk'ata charged to end the Sith's life. Darth Ayra focused, tapping into her powers of the dark side to break past the debilitating effects of the Tuk'ata poison. She broke through the searing red light that had crossed her eyes, to feed upon the pain that coursed through her body. Raising both arms to the beast as it charged in, each limb shaking under the debilitating effects of the beasts poison, Darth Ayra unleashed a torrent of blue electrical streaks of lightning from her finger tips into the mouth of the Tuk'ata, as it went in to bite her head clean off. Power suddenly coursing through her body and out of her finger tips in the form of a torrential storm of Force Lightning, Darth Ayra drove the Tuk'ata backwards under her powers of the Force.

Coursing through the Tuk'atas body, the Force Lightning rippled along and through it, seeming to light up it's innards and exposing it's insides under the power of the Dark Lord that it had sought to destroy. But it was not enough. Feeding on Ayra's power, the Tuk'ata broke the connection between itself and Darth Ayra's lightning, bolting away from the Dark Lord and into the desert, wounded but not destroyed. Relenting her powers, Ayra made no protest to the Tuk'ata escaping, unable to stop it even if she wanted too.

Laying in the cold desert floor, chest heaving itself up and down under the exhortation of her fight with the Tuk'ata, Darth Ayra laid there to rest. She felt the poison working it's way through her body and she struggled to fight against it. The dark side of the Force, like a cold and angry, ruthless fire worked it's way through her body to burn away the traces of the Tuk'ata poison before it killed her. But the dark side took longer to heal and to purge the effects of the poison. It was a weapon, unlike the powers of the Jedi, who were suited for healing.

Minutes elapsed, as the dark side worked it's way through Darth Ayra. If the events in the Stygian Caldera or the crash had exhausted her, then the fight with the Tuk'ata had brought her to the brink of death. Only her powers in the dark side kept her living now, driving away the poison and stopping her from succumbing to death's door. She nodded in appreciation to the seminal efforts of the Tuk'ata. Their bout had made her stronger. Through strength, I gain power, she thought.

Slowly, Darth Ayra began to stand back up, rising like a tyrant over the Korriban wastes. This is my world. Everything and everyone on it belongs to me, by right. Compelled by her thoughts, she recalled her lightsaber into her outstretched hand, unwilling to give up. Raising her hood over her head, Darth Ayra begun her walk across the desert, to finish the last stretch to Dreshdae.
 
Just resting for a while would help. Her legs gave way first, and even with a few stop/start attempts she didn’t get much farther in the pursuit of Ayra. The datapad signalled she was near, but not near enough, and she just wanted a rest…one quick rest….splayed out on her back to catch the warmth and humid breeze rolling across the desert. She would be better after a rest. Just a quick rest, and a sleep.

Dry lips, aching stomach, warm skin. Joon had been betrayed and lied to since leaving the safety of Duro, and she now had learnt her lesson – don’t trust anyone. Ayra had left her for dead and Asemir had…well, she wanted to see how far she’d have gotten with the old soldier because right now she didn’t know what to think.

She’d been out of it for only a few minutes but it felt like hours.

The Tuk'ata stood over her, a glooming shadow with a smell of burning flesh, wheezing and clawing at the ground. Joon could see the beast but didn’t comprehend it or fear it, she just held her hand up as if the beast would pick her up and carry her away. She relayed no threat, no desire to main or kill – just a desire to survive.

Her arm fell down again and she turned her head and rolled into the beast’s shadow. Clearly a strange dream. Just a little more rest and she’ll get up.

Death was waiting for her.

The Tuk’ata smelt betrayal and death on her – it also saw the victim of the Dark Side that Ayra has placed upon them both. It’s bloodied jaw came down on Joon and clamped on her.

------------​
Joon groaned in pain as a force pushed her from behind in the ribs, her face pushing down onto the sharp rock to bring her back to the here and now. She was around bricks and rocks and stones, a set of ruins. Ahead, a distant settlement. Behind, the dead Tuk’ata with its retracted claw on her spine. Rolling over and wincing, Joon dragged herself up, fuzzed eyed and with scratches down her cheek to see the dead animal who had dragged her to shelter and died in its attempt to rouse her from death.

The stomach cramp hit again, but she ignored it and placed a hand on the huge black paw of the beast who had been a victim of, what she imagined, was the Sith Ayra. Two wounded creatures and one had sacrificed its final moments to fuel the other into surviving.

Pulling herself up on the huge lifeless animal, Joon sat on its hind and saw the settlement in the distance. It was time to find her and remind who she had betrayed – the JN project was born out of strength and there to be a fighting race against the Jedi. As the Sith has tried to end it, she was not going to let her sisters down now, and seeing the coldness displayed to the Tuk’ata, Joon wasn’t going to settle for being betrayed ever again.

Dragging her teeth across a dry lip, she stood and closed her eyes and saw nothing but a clear path ahead, no desert and no pain. She started to jog. Joon gained strength in the emotional rage she felt, and the desire to do something she had never wanted to do before.

To kill Ayra with her bare hands.

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 
| [member="Joon"] |

Hamal Matterfire (NPC) was en route to supposed location of a crashed ship. Robes flapping in the cold wind, as the speeder carried him towards the apparent crash site, the Dellaltian Jedi Master had been called to investigate, after the Silver Sanctum detected the ship after it had cleared the Stygian Caldera. As a member of the Silver Jedi Order, Master Matterfire was stationed on Korriban to review and explore the crypts, tombs and valleys of the Sith, whilst at the same time, investigating the remnants of the Primeval, who had claimed the Sith homeworld for themselves as they crusaded along the Unknown Regions and Outer Rim Territories, just prior to their collapse a few months ago.

It was apart of his mandate to investigate anything that happened on Korriban, and for some chilling reason, he felt that the exercise was worthy of the detraction away from his studies. He wanted to investigate this particular crash, for he had felt a disturbance in the Force. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt this way. He had encountered several smugglers and Dark Jedi, who had been caught pillaging the crypts and tombs of the Sith, for rare but insignificant artifacts, such as Sith amulets and other jewelry buried with insignificant occupants. The larger and more grandiloquent tombs belonged to the Dark Lords of the Sith, who had been broken into and stolen from over the centuries, leaving nothing of consequence behind. Only the minor Sith tombs were left and even they had little to offer, with their trinkets holding little to no dark side power within them. Still, the smugglers, Dark Jedi and the occasional cultist left behind by the Primeval crusader had to be stopped. Smuggling Sith artifacts could and never would be acceptable.

The majority of these crimes stemmed from within the Esstran Sector. With the Stygian Caldera surrounding the Sith Worlds, barricading the worlds within behind it's thick layers of nubalae and the debris of destroyed ships, which threatened to tear apart the hulls of those who dared enter it, made it rare for outsiders to try and brave the Caldera to get too worlds such as Korriban, as you were more than likely to end up dead. Those who did get to Korriban came from other worlds found within the Stygian Caldera, such as Ziost or Thule, with each world offering a haven for pirates and criminals, who used the Stygian Caldera to it's maximum effect. Rarely did a ship ever survive the gaseous formation, as the occupants of the ship, that Master Matterfire was traveling to investigate, has discovered when their ship had been assaulted and subsequently crash landed on the cold desert floor.

With this in mind, Master Matterfire reasoned that the crash site he was heading for had to have come from outside the Esstran Sector. An unfortunate accident, born out of the harshness of the Stygian Caldera. It wasn't the first time that a ship had been damaged because of it and it wouldn't be the last. In an effort to stop further accidents from occurring, the Silver Sanctum- at the request of the Silver Jedi- had placed up beacons, which acted as signs to deter ships from trying to enter the Stygian Caldera. But not everyone listened and so this was the causality of their foolishness and greed.

But this felt different. This wasn't just a mere pirate, smuggler or Dark Jedi who had crash landed. He would have been able to tell, having dealt with their kind before. No, the Force told him that the occupants of this crashed ship were not like them. Was it possible that a Sith had returned to Korriban? And for what purpose? Not entirely sure in his deductions thus far, the Dellaltian decided on patience. He would have his answers soon, when he arrived at the crash site. He would be able to feel better with the Force, when he was in closer proximity to the crashed vessel; and he would try and access the ships logs and databanks, if they had survived the crash.

Along the horizon, clouds of smoke had formed to create a light fog, which obscured the Horuset star and Korriban's bleak orange skies. Master Matterfire could spot the crash in the distance. The wreckage was strewn across the sands, and as the speeder brought him closer, he saw pieces of ship laying in the dirt, foretelling the devastation that the Stygian Caldera had caused. It was a wonder how anyone could have survived the crash, and yet, the Dellaltian felt that someone had. Coming to a stop, several meters away from where the Initium laid, Master Matterfire climbed off his speeder and touched his boots down onto the cold sands of Korriban. Rising his large, aquatic body upright, he begun to walk towards the crash site, to begin his investigation.

~
Darth Ayra walked along the streets of Dreshdae, trying to remain inconspicuous. The denizens that walked by her paid her little to no attention, with only a few averting their gaze towards her before setting their eyes back on their destination, regarding her with little consequence or interest. The streets were mostly empty, with only a few speeders and cargo transports parked along the streets. No doubt, their drivers were in doors, playing Sabaac or Pazaak at the many cantinas that lined up along the pavements. In the modern day, Dreshdae had become a stopping point for cargo haulers or merchants looking to do business.

With the Sith gone, only a few civilians called Dreshdae home, with many leaving the desert crypt world. With no Empire to serve, what was the use staying behind, when there was so many worlds out there to live on? With it's cold desert, monstrous animals and little to no vegetation, Korriban was not a world that was supposed to be lived on. Historically, the settlement had played home to soldiers and officers who had served the Sith in their military, with the occasional Sith Lord- such as Darth Ayra- also having called it home. But things had changed since then and with those changes, so too had Dreshdae.

During the time of the Sith Empire, before it's collapse seven years ago, Darth Ayra had purchased an apartment in Dreshdae, using it as her living quarters whilst she had come and gone from the Sith Academy. It had been during her time under Darth Pandeima, who had aspirations of becoming a Sith Lord under Tyrin Ardik and later Darth Vornskr, as both reigned as Emperor of the Sith. Pandeima had even risen to the station of Lord of the Sith for a brief time under Vornskr, before his equally brief rule was ended by the Clans of Mandalore and the Jedi Order, who had led the Galactic Republic to victory over the Sith.

Another loss at the hands of the Jedi only served to certify that the days of the Sith being all conquering warring tyrants was over and that the time for subtly and subterfuge were now. Not that it should have ever returned that way, Darth Ayra thought as she walked along the sandy pavement, thinking over what she had discovered thus far about Darth Bane and his Order, whilst she made sure to keep her hood up over her face, as a chilling breeze blew through the streets, threatening to pull down the cowl of her robe and exposed of battered, sore face.

Darth Ayra was unsure if the house that she had once lived in was still there. Seven years was a lot of time, and given the changes that Korriban had suffered, anything could of happened. The building could have been destroyed when the Empire collapsed or the Primeval could have leveled it in their crusade. Better yet, the apartment could have been appropriated by the Silver Sanctum and then sold on to a new owner, meaning that she would possibly have to deal with an unwanted guest. Aware of these possibilities, Darth Ayra continued her way up the streets of Dreshdae. She had her lightsaber to deal with the occupants, if they were home. All she could think about right now was nourishment and rest. The consequences of return to Dreshdae could be dealt with later on, if there were any to be had at all.

Turning a corner, Darth Ayra entered an alleyway that led to a flight of stairs. Climbing up the sandstone bricks, she made her ascent to the second level and turned to a face a doorway. Beside the gate that covered the entrance to the hallway ahead, was a key box that Ayra remembered required a code to be entered. When entered, the code would trigger the gates mechanics and open for her to enter. Not wanting to leave any obvious traces of breaking in, Ayra tried to recall the key code. She tried the first code that came to mind, but it was wrong. Frowning, she tried a second and once again, the red light above and incessant buzz followed, telling her that she had got it wrong again. Closing her eyes, she focused hard on her time in Dreshdae all those years ago, recalling memories that she hadn't thought of in a long time. She saw vague visions of her standing in this exact same spot seven years ago, typing in the code to open the gate. She remembered that she had been fatigued then as well, wanting nothing more than to enter the same dreamless sleep she craved today, after a long day of training at the Academy. Although, she hadn't been as tired, hungry or thirsty then as she was now.

She tried to swallow, but there was nothing to quench her thirst. Her head hurt from the crash, the fight with the Tuk'ata and from the final walk she had taken to get to Dreshdae, after successfully fighting the beast off. Dehydration had crept in days ago, making it difficult to think or do anything. All she could think about was collapsing and giving in. But she wouldn't allow it. She couldn't allow it. She had to endure. The Force willed it.

Eyes still closed, Ayra lifted her index finger to the key pad and she pressed buttons, guided by a mixture of her desires and instinct. Another buzz forced her to awaken her heavy eye lids. She lowered her eyes to the key pad to see that it was now green. It was telling her that the gate was open. Swinging her hand to the gate, she pulled and entered the hallway, tracing her steps along it's cold and musky floor, walking between the sets of doors that stood either side of her towards the one that was most familiar. I don't have a key, she thought. But I do not need one. Lifting her palm towards the key hole, Ayra allowed her powers to feed themselves into the knob and under her machinations, it turned. She wasn't sure if she had broken it, under the pull of her powers, but she did not care. Stumbling into the apartment, she discovered that it was empty. But it showed traces that someone had been occupying it since she had last stood in it's doorway. She made a note of that as she rushed towards the Kitchenette ahead. Diving over to the sink, Ayra bent her head beneath the tap and turned it on, allowing cold water to drop down into her exposed mouth. She drank like her life depended on it, and in many ways it was, as she swallowed gulp after gulp after gulp down her sore, aching throat. She drank so much that it begun to physically pain her and her eyes begun to water from the strain, but she did not care. All she could do, in those minutes, was drink water until her stomach was full to bursting.

Eventually, she relented her hold on the tap and rose up, water dripping out of the corners of her mouth and onto her dark robes. Ahead, hanging on the wall, a mirror told her a story. Her forehead and cheek was ripped open, with dried stains of blood covered over the gashes. Her lips were cracked and pale; her face was drier than the sand outside; and her hair was clumped, ruined and dirty. She was a complete wreck. Crossing the threshold of the kitchenette back towards the open door that led into the apartment, Darth Ayra closed and tried to lock it, to discover that she had broken the knob when she had broken in. Making sure that the door would remain closed, but still entirely unlocked, she then pulled off her garments until she was entirely exposed and traced her steps into the bedroom, when she collapsed upon the bed, laying the front of her body down on it's duvet, leaving the back of her body exposed. Instantaneously, a dreamless, deep sleep claimed the Sith Lord.
 
Joon couldn’t even remember the name of the dwelling Ayra had left for. In fact, in her state, she didn’t even know or care if this walled city was the right one. City. Village. Settlement. Whatever it was, it loomed closer now. The walls surrounding it were so high to those dry, gritty eyes.

Her mouth was tight, her skin was prickly from the heat. Her bones ached, her muscles were limp and her head throbbed. She had blood around her mouth from rubbing her lips each time sand got blown over her face, in turn scratching the dry skin and making her them bleed.

The nauseating rage inside her seemed to carry her forward, as if her body was feeding from an external source and wouldn’t stop until she reached safety…if there would ever be a place she could ever really feel safe now. Whether Ayra was here or not, right now she didn’t care as she collapsed forward onto one knee, fought to get up, collapsed again a few steps closer and then fell forward face down into the sand. Darkness closed in and she didn’t remember waking up.

------------​
Coming to in the tank, JN-4 had felt like she had been asleep for days. The light rose behind those eyelids of hers, stronger than usual, and she was still. It was quite warm, but she was comfortable. A little hungry, but she would cope as always until meal time. Her forehead felt cold and she opened her eyes, but the light was blurry, and noise could be heard.

Nothing…nothing….no
”NO!”

Joon bolted up and lashed out with her hands forward to break out of the claustrophobic cell, only to see she wasn’t in a cell at all, but a wicker hammock in what looked like a junk yard, surrounded by a large rock wall and other assorted bits of metal and scrap.

A cold flannel flopped down off her forehead and two young girls stood back, an older man beside them stood forward.

”We found you outside the city walls. We brought you to our yard.”

The clone was wide eyed and didn’t move.

”You were severely dehydrated and sunburnt. I have tried to soothe what I can, but you need medical attention, miss.”

Then she felt the knots in her stomach, and looking down to her right on a wooden table she saw the bowls of water, one crimson and one clear, and a small jug, some gauze and wipes. Touching her sore body, just a ripped white shirt rolled up and her trousers and boots, she saw where patches had been applied to her tender flesh.

Joon licked her lips, still dry, but not as bad as she imagined. Reaching over to the jug, she held it to her mouth with both hands and drunk a generous mouthful, half of it spliing from her mouth in greed. With a gasp, she stopped and looked at the girls.

”Where…Sith?”

They said nothing and looked at the man with them.

”We don’t know a Sith, miss. Please, stay and rest and I will - ”

He didn’t finish before Joon stood up, wobbly, and grabbed the jug and stormed off through the yard to the arched entrance. Ignoring his protests which didn’t last long, Joon had to steady herself and shield her tender eyes from the sun above as she span around and looked at the strange settlement which seemed to be a mix between some large market and residential apartments very primitive in design.

Her hair was matted and damp from being washed as best the girls could, and it was cool on her skin. But Joon didn’t care how patched up she looked, she didn’t care for anything. The rage burned inside her with a new sense of purpose and she threw the jug up and over into a random building with a smash of glass and water.

”AYRA!” Not as much a shout, but a piercing scream, a horrid deep scream from a dry voice box and cracked mouth.

The clone span around again to another direction and walked forward, ignoring the looks she was given from others who avoided the crazy woman shouting in the streets.

”AYRA!!”

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 
| [member="Joon"] |

The crash site of the mysterious ship created more questions than answers. The Dellaltian had allowed himself to submerge into the tranquility of the Force, so as to feel who had crashed on Korriban. All he had felt was the dark side of the Force, blurring and clouding the identity of the individual in question. As he felt deeper into the enigma, he sensed that there was more than two. Two Sith? he had thought, coming to the conclusion that there had been two occupants in the ship prior to it's crash. He sensed that both were alive. But the question became not who they were, but where they were?

Climbing into the wreckage, Matterfire had moved to the cockpit, so as to slice into the ships databanks and uncover more about the ship. He discovered that the panels, computers and plugins had been broken beyond repair, making it impossible to access the ships systems. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that they had not been damaged or destroyed in the crash, but by the hands of a saboteur. He wondered as to whether or not the sabotage had caused the crash. Or perhaps they were covering their tracks?

Finding nothing else in the ship, Matterfire climbed out and begun to make his way back to his speeder. He was confident that he was dealing with one- perhaps two- Sith. Sitting in the wreckage, trying to search for clues, had allowed him to feel their presence. One was particularly powerful, well trained in the dark side. He sensed that the other was not so much. In fact, as he made his way through the wreckage, continuing his search, he had felt traces of the light side. They had been like small little clouds in a skyline of darkness.

Perhaps they are the Sith's prisoner? Matterfire wondered quietly, as he climbed on board the speeder. I sensed that they have suffered, at the hands of this Sith. But they have not fully embraced the dark side. Not yet. Revving up the speeder, Matterfire took off to make his way back into the desert.

~​
Dreshdae_zpsajxufnxy.png
A small crowd, made mostly out of junk scavengers, had formed a small circle around JN-4 as she screamed the name of the Sith Lord responsible for all her pain. The man and his daughter, who had tended to her wounds, followed her out of the junk yard with a look of concern painted on their faces. The very sudden outburst of anger and the hatred in the woman's eyes told them that they should be scared of JN-4. There was something twisted, malicious and evil in her eyes. Something very wrong and unnatural.

"Hey sweetheart, calm down," said one of the scavs in the crowd. They didn't seem to have noticed what the man had. Following the call, the crowd begun to wolf whistle and yell at her, a symphony of callousness and teasing of the feeble, raged filled one that stood in the epicenter of their mocking. "Go back inside," the man said to his daughter, urging her to return into the junk yard with a slight push in it's direction. The girl raised her head to protest, but the look on her fathers face told her not to and so she relented, heading back into the junk yard with plans to play with her handheld console.

The man turned back around, intent to bring the woman he had been tending to back into his home, until he could call for the authorities to come and take her. Before he could, however, a giant alien emerged from the crowd and begun to make his way towards her. The man had seen the Dellaltian before, coming and going from Dreshdae. He would disappear for days, sometimes weeks, before returning to the settlement. The rumor was that he was a Jedi, who had come along with the Silver Sanctum and that he was seen heading into the Valley of the Dark Lords and other Sith tombs well beyond the settlement's walls. But none of these rumors had yet to be confirmed.

Matterfire lowered his gaze to woman, his soft aquatic eyes giving her a look over. He had just returned to Dreshdae, parking his speeder outside the house that was his home, when he had heard the screaming and commotion outside of the local junk yard. He had spent hours searching the desert for bodies, thinking that the occupants might have escaped the crash and traveled on foot for help. But he had found no-one. There was no traces of either the Sith or the other that traveled with them, only increasing the Jedi Master's assumption that he was dealing with a full fledged Sith Lord. Only someone particularly powerful in the dark side could have survived the crash and then conquered the Korriban desert, warding off the parasites and monsters that patrolled it's wastelands. Korriban's wildlife were particularly vengeful against those who were not aligned to the dark, but the Jedi Master knew that the creatures, such as the Pelko bugs or Tuk'ata were warded away by those who were powerful in the dark side due to their own Force-sensitivity.

"Be calm," said Matterfire, standing a yard off from where JN-4 stood. His voice was soothing and he added the influence of the Force to help calm the woman down and relax her. "My name is Hamal. I am a Jedi and I wish to help you, if you would allow me? You are hurt and sick. Please, let me take you to somewhere safe, where your wounds and sickness can be treated. I promise that you will not be harmed."
 
All this noise, this commotion, was unknown to Joon - the leering and laughing was recognizable but not at the same time. She didn't know anything beyond people were watching her and amused, which meant they were entertained by her emotional rage; she was not entertained. The adrenaline was pumping through her and the overwhelming sense of anger and frustration at being both betrayed and lost in an alien world, with strange faces shouting and not listening to her.

Joon gasped, her chest heaving, as she fought to control her breathing through this whirlwind of exhaustion, pain, and hate.

Like an animal being corralled by keepers, she staggered back and spun around, vision blurring and fighting all advances to help or grope her. She wasn't drunk and wasn't out for a cheap thrill - she was of sound mind but delirious with the toll of the crash and navigation through the desert, yet her body somehow was still going.

And then the soothing voice spoke out, the cooling wave washing over her and giving her a sensation of being gently held to support her weak legs. A being she didn't know, but was an alien race. Hamal. A Jedi. Joon cocked her head, face squinting with the sun and her throbbing head. A Jedi?

”Jedi Knights,” she slurred.

The Jedi were bad. Ayra was bad, wasn't she? Like Asemir. The JN project had been made to combat the enemy like the Jedi. Ayra was just as bad. Right? Her head hurt and she felt like she was falling. She stumbled forward, narrowing her eyes and swung her arms out to hit the being, but easily avoided with her sluggish actions.

"Help me. Kill her then I....kill....Je...” Joon mumbled and fell into Hamal, a mixture of her emotions shutting down a weak body and the Force calming her.

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 
| [member="Joon"] |

Hamal felt the Human woman was about to collapse before she did. Before she could, guided by the Force, the soft Dellaltian wrapped both his large, rubbery like hands around her legs and back, lifting her up into his chest before she did. "Be calm," he murmured, turning around. Around both of them, the crowd had stopped jeering and was beginning to disperse. The scavs, smugglers and locals knew not to continue messing with the girl, now that a Jedi had involved themselves. It just wasn't the fine or trouble that they would receive from the Silver Sanctum, should Matterfire have chosen pursuing a punishment for them. If they had known the Jedi Master, however, they would have known that he probably wouldn't of.

Making his way away from the junk yard, Matterfire carried JN-4 up the streets of Dreshdae, quiet but soothing in his presence for the injured, sickly Human that was huddled in his arms. The Force continued to flow through the Dellaltian and into JN-4, keeping her calm and from experiencing further pain made by the sunburn, hungry and fatigued that had claimed her body, since she had left Sojourn with Darth Ayra and crash landed on Korriban.

Matterfire sensed that this was one of the two individuals that had crashed in the mysterious ship he had found in the desert. He felt the taint of the dark side on the girl, born out of her suffering and the influence that Korriban could bring onto the weak and untrained. How could anyone does this to someone? He thought as he carried the woman up the pavement towards his home. To this day, Matterfire could never fathom how anyone could hurt someone this badly. He was sure that the Human in his arms was not the Sith Lord he had sensed, but the other individual that had accompanied them; and he sensed that the Sith was responsible for the state that the woman was in.

But his questions could wait. For now, he was set on nursing the Human back to health first before she answered him. Opening the door, Matterfire entered his home and carried the woman towards his bed. After lowering her, he turned and went to shut the door behind him. When it was closed, he then turned to open a cupboard, revealing the bacta pads, ointments and other medical supplies he had kept with him. Matterfire was no healer, but he didn't have a basic grasp of nursing oneself back to health, as his work normally found himself in situations where there was no medical droid or healer to tend to his injuries or sicknesses. Aided by the Force, he always found a way to spring back to normality, but this was the first time that he would be tasked with nursing another back to health.

Carrying the medical supplies back over to JN-4, Matterfire said: "You have been terribly burned and you have a sickness in you. I must apply this ointment to soothe your burns and give you medicine to get rid of the sickness. You are in safe hands now."

He doubted that she could hear him properly. The Human seemed pretty out of it, but just in case she could, he did not want her to feel violated or under harm when he begun to apply the ointment along her skin, followed by the bacta pads onto the sorest parts of her body. If anything, the Jedi did not want the Human to experience anymore duress. She had suffered enough.
 
There was no dream, no nightmare. Just a gentle flutter of the eyes and a yawn. Joon was laid on a soft bed, under a window in a warmly coloured brick room. Her head turned slightly to the window with yellow light pouring in, and her hand rose to the rays to feel the warmth.

She felt calm, and not in pain. She turned her head the opposite way, a little pain her in neck made her wince and go slower, but with her hair pulled up out her face, she saw a strange being across the passageway from the room where she was.

Joon stared at the being, who was tall and not a human. She noticed on her arm a white patch of cloth around the wrist, and she looked down and inspected it. There was another on her other arm, near her elbow. Bringing her fingers to her face and tracing the outline, she felt a little patch on her cheek. She had been medically assisted in someway by the being.

Sitting up a little, pushing back on the pillow, Joon stared at the being and it came to her via something her mind that he was like her, gifted.

”Hello?” Joon spoke, unaware of how loud or quiet she was. ”Hello?” Again, she tried to be louder but not shouting.

She needed to piece together this disorientating turn of events, because something wasn’t right. And then she remembered – Ayra betrayed her. Left her for dead. Joon pushed forward to get up, teeth clamped down, but the body was weak and tired. She was alone, and everything had collapsed around her.

Surrendering to the pain, she brought her arms together and turned to the wall and fixed her eyes tight as she silently began to….to cry. Gasping at the tears brimming and rolling down her face, Joon patted them away quickly, but her lip trembled and a soft moan escaped her. There was nothing she could do now. She had failed her sisters and been tricked. She was weak, and had nothing.

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 
| [member="Joon"] |

Matterfire watched the Human woman with a sense of deep concern. Her pain went deep, and he knew that if he did not do something to help her, she would turn to the dark side. He thought of it like a ledge and she was stood on one. What happened next determined whether she would be pulled back into the light or pushed over over into the darkness. I will not let her fall, he thought to himself.

"Hello," Matterfire said softly, approaching the bed and lowering his soft eyes to her. "You are safe now. There is no need to cry." He thought of lowering his hand to reassure her, but thought otherwise. She was vulnerable and he did not want to scare her with unnecessary movements. "My name is Hamal. I tried to speak to you before but you was in too much pain to hear me. I am a Jedi and I mean you no harm. I am here to help you."

Turning, Matterfire approached a nearby seat and dragged it to the bed to sit down beside her. When JN-4 turned to speak to him, the Dellaltian was ready to listen and learn.
 
From behind her thin protective barrier, which was just her own arms and legs, reverting to the child-like insecurities, Joon looked though bleary eyes at Hamal. The Jedi. She closed them again and rested her sweaty brow on her arm.

”I am the last of the Justiciaria Noctare.”

She didn’t look up. She didn’t want to see anyone.

”My purpose is to combat Jedi Knights and fight for my creators, the Imperial Remnant. I am a clone, JN-4, of the project. I am lost and in search of a Sith Lord who left me to die after she helped me.”

Then, she looked up. Remembering.

”Ayra.” Her eyes were red from the tears, but her gaze could cut glass as her gritted teeth spat the name.

This Jedi was a creature she didn’t recognise, but then she had seen so much recently that was alien to her, she was herself feeling more and more isolated and alone.

”She lied to me. I want to kill her and go home.”

Home. What was home now? Where was home? Joon kept looking at Hamal, as if for an answer.

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 
| [member="Joon"] |

The revelation that the Human sat before her was created to destroy the Jedi surprised Matterfire. That such a timid, small creature could be capable of murdering a Jedi and yet, as the Jedi Master stared into the eyes of the woman, he saw that this one was capable of anything. He sensed that lecturing her on the concept of murder would solve nothing right now. She had confirmed his suspicions. This was the one who crashed and the other is a Sith Lord, he thought.

The Silver Sanctum were aware of the Imperial Remnant and it's many inceptions. There were rumours that one inception, known as the New Order, had been founded following the destruction of the Sith Empire seven years ago but had since died. Then there was the Fel Imperium, led by a man that claimed to be a descendant of the Fel dynasty, a powerful family that had lived centuries before the Four Hundred Year Darkness. And in recent years, there was the recent collapse in Carida and rumours that on the other side of the Galaxy, a mysterious faction that called themselves the First Order was locked in hostilities with the Galactic Alliance, deep within the former territories of the Lords of the Fringe.

"Justiciaria," Matterfire said softly. "This Sith Lord. Ayra? She is a dangerous person. The Sith are a dangerous people. She has come back to Korriban for something. Do you know what it is? And do you know where she is now?"

Discovering the whereabouts of the Sith Lord and what she wanted took precedence over Justiciaria. Matterfire knew that he had to prioritize this Ayra's discovery before she completed her purpose on Korriban. When the Sith returned to the cold desert, it could only mean bad things for the Silver Jedi and the rest of the Galaxy. Matterfire knew he had to find her as soon as possible before that purpose came to fruition.
 
”My name is Joon. I am not a Sith. Never.”

Each word was punctuated with hate; fear; anger. She was in the middle of a Jedi and Sith, yet again the pawn to be used. She really had been lied to.

”The woman told me nothing. Left me for days to starve, and then alone in the desert out there. Sand. Monsters. Heat. She’s looking for Sith secrets. I don’t care, she’s no stronger than you or I! I want her head!”

Joon stood up and scraped her hands back over her dry hair, standing beside Hamal but not acknowledging him. Her breathing was rising, and it felt like her chest was caving in.

”She’s here, everywhere! I can feel her inside me.”

Hands slid to her cheeks and pressed on them, eyes looking full and remorseful.

”She’s here. Around us. She’s strong and want’s me dead. She used me.”

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 
| [member="Joon"] |

"Please, Justiciara. Be calm." Matterfire thought to use the Force to calm her again, but he sensed that now wasn't the time. He was close to getting answers on this Lord Ayra. Plus, he didn't want to damage the Human. The effects of the Force could be dangerous, especially to those that were strong with it; and he sensed that this woman, Justiciara Noctare, had the potential to become a powerful Jedi... Or Sith.

"I will not allow her to cause you further harm," said Matterfire, determination dripping into his voice. "Rest assured, she will be stopped. But I do not know where she is, Justiciara. I do not know how to find her. The dark side is strong with Lord Ayra. I cannot find her with my Force powers. But you say that you can sense her?"

Matterfire's brow creased further at the prospect that this Justiciara Noctare could feel the Sith Lord that he knew he had to stop. There is a bond between them. Something dark and sinister. And I feel danger in the Force. But I do not know what it is that I sense...
 
The clone wiped her brow in frustration.

”She's HERE, I just TOLD you that. Listen!”

Her hand trembled and the tightening in her chest was stronger. It took a moment to compose herself and then lower her hand, exhaling.

”She's in the settlement somewhere but I don't totally know how to find her. I can try. I...I can try.”

Joon walked forward to the arched doorway and activated it to open, wincing against the bright light outside and the warmth flooding over her body. Stepping out, hand raised to shield her eyes, she kept walking, hoping this Jedi was following. She dragged her feet across the orange ground and ignored a few looks from the people around; pilots, explorers, traders. She didn't recognise the place at all, she didn't even know if this WAS where Ayra was. But, inside, she could feel her...gently...she was here. Joon swallowed and kept walking, feet kicking up gravel with clumsy, weak footsteps. She stopped. She held her other hand out, like she had seen Ayra do and closed her eyes.

”She's....she's sleeping...relaxing...not thinking. Stairs, going to a floor above ground with...sand bricks and a long walkway..a locked door. Water!”

She stopped and held her stomach, and frowned. She was so thirsty.

”Please find her."

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 
| [member="Joon"] |

Matterfire lifted an arm, as if to motion for Justiciara to stop. But the Human had already slipped out of the apartment, driven by anger. The Jedi quickly rose from his seat to follow her out of the house and into the streets. The crowd of junkers, scavs and other assorted individuals had cleared out. The street was now mostly empty, save for the odd person walking along or standing on the corner. A Rodian, which he recognized as one of the pilots that shuttled people to and from Dreshdae was leering at the Human as she walked by him.

"Please don't," Matterfire said to him as he followed her further up the streets and the Rodian relented, returning to the alcoholic beverage he was carrying in his left hand. Focusing back on Justiciara, he quickly caught up to her and turned her around to face him. "You must calm down, Justiciara. This woman is dangerous. She wants you to be angry. I can feel it. You're letting her win by acting this way."

The Dellaltian tried to appeal to the Human's vanity. If she was angry, then she certainly didn't want to lose to this Ayra anymore. If I can only keep her calm, then she would be able to tell me where this Sith Lord is.

~
A loud bang stirred Darth Ayra out of her slumber. Eyes glued together by sleep, she longed to continue sleeping. Her mind occupied by her desires, Ayra didn't register the noise coming from the next room now. She could feel the duvet beneath her thought and she registered that the material was uncomfortable. It even made her itchy. Dragging her hand towards the spots where she needed to itch, Ayra scratched away until the itch was gone. The satisfied sensation of relieving her itch made her wake up and she rolled onto her back to see a man standing in the door way of the opened bedroom, looking at her.

For a solid minute, Ayra and the man stared at each other. Her exposed, naked body was a sight to behold and it seemed to have shocked him into place, freezing him. For Ayra, she was testing her body, learning what parts of her she could summon for use. She was also gauging the man. By the look of him, he seemed to be the apartments new owner. She judged that he had just come home, to find that it had been broken into. He was built, but not athletic. Strong physically, but not honed.

"Who the kark are you?" he whispered, shock visible in his tone.
 
Joon turned and squinted at the strange being.

”My NAME...is Joon."

She turned away again and held her body, looking into the distance, through the town where the parting walls signalled the entrance and exit of the settlement. Two grey flags flapped in the wind above the walls.

It became clear that Ayra was partly right. People were using her, and Hamal was doing the same. To find Ayra. He didn't care about her at all, she was just the means to find the Sith. Jedi v Sith, as it always was. Those in the middle of the battle were the REAL ones who decided the outcome. Right now, Jedi and Sith was not attractive at all. Joon had nothing to fall back on.

”Nobody is winning anything, Jedi Hamal. Ayra doesn't own me and never will. I just want stop her and go...home." Her voice broke a little.

Home. She didn't have a home anymore.

She turned on her heel and began walking into the town, eyes drifting from side to side, unit to unit. She felt twinges in her head before, and maybe if she got closer to the Sith Lord then she would have another, and he could kill Ayra, and then she could kill him and go...home?

[member="Darth Ayra"]
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom