Cold Desert [Ask]

[Darth Ayra]

Cold Desert​

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| [member="Joon"] |

Throughout the entire journey to Korriban, Darth Ayra had been mostly quiet. She would reserve her lesson for the crypt world, as it would have more impact on JN-4 when they arrived. Nothing could prepare the clone for the gravitational shift that the holy world would present, upon the realization of her purpose. Duro and Sojourn had already irrevocably changed her life, but Korriban would be the cement to her transformation, away from the simpleton clone the Imperials created her to be, and instead, into the Sith Apprentice that she was now destined to become.

Her brief transmission with [member="Darth Vulkan"] had her focus, in the week since she had departed Sojourn. The Holocron of Darth Vectivus belonged to her, as a birth right. Some damned Sith Lord wasn't going to keep it away from her. She decided that she had done the right thing, by presenting herself as an acolyte. Deceiving Vulkan into believing he was more powerful than she was meant that he underestimated her. It was a lesson she had learned on Dxun years ago, when confronted with the harsh jungle and it's animals. To appear small and nonthreatening allowed one to hold all the cards, as the apparent prey turned predator. With a sharp and surprising attack to the jugular, the predator turned prey. It was a long and elongated metaphor, but the woman that had accompanied her home would come to understand, over time.

She would have Vulkan's throat in her hand, if it was necessary to procure her birthright. But there was more pressing matters to attend too. Pushing it aside, Ayra sat up in her seat. Clearing her throat before speaking, she said: "We are here."

Around the Initium, the stars finally slowed and came to a sudden stand still, as the modified Star Courier lurched itself out of hyperspace and out into the void.Ahead of them, a mass of swirling, yellow gas swam before the Initium. Among it's cloud floated debris, consisting of meteorites, asteroids and the bits and pieces of star craft, almost all of them centuries old, floating along, adding to the danger and protection that it offered to the Sith worlds.

Turning her gaze to JN-4, Ayra said: "This is the Stygian Caldera. It is classified as a nebulosity and is extremely dangerous. Normally, a ship such as the Initium would be able to reach from point a to b without much difficulty, as the ships navigational computer works out how to get from one side of the Galaxy to the other, without crashing into a moon, planet, star or phenomena, such as this nebula."

"But this nebula prevents ships from using hyperspace to reach the star systems beyond it's barrier. If that wasn't dangerous enough, the debris inside will tear the hull apart and expose us to space, if we are not careful. I will need your assistance to navigate. You will look for any obstacles we may encounter, whilst I fly the Initium through the Stygian Caldera, to the other side."

"Focus, Joon. For millennia, the Stygian Caldera has protected the worlds deep inside it's region from outsiders. Only the Sith- the true Lords of the Sith worlds- are capable of breaking past the Stygian Caldera. Feel with the Force. Reach out and take hold of it's power. Allow yourself to surrender yourself to it and make it your property. There, we will master the Stygian Caldera and pass through, to safety."

 

[Connor Harrison]

Arriving at the destination, the stars reverted back to normal and the large swirling gas cloud was before them. Joon immediately sat up, her senses on high alert and eyes ready to seek out danger even before Ayra gave her command to do so. This was almost like a training simulation she had done on Duro, in navigating a transport through an asteroid belt. But this was nothing like that, and the stakes were far higher than a pat on the back from the Creators.

Joon swallowed and felt an intense amount of pressure on her shoulders, a cold tingling up her neck. Thrust into helping navigate the ship was one thing, but to now call on this Force power to do so? To help decide if they lived or died? She would prefer death over another reprimand from Ayra.

Hands out on the controls, her eyes focused outside the viewport as they began their navigation, totally forgetting at that instant about depending on the Force.

”Steady. Take her a little higher, away from the dense rock if you can.”

Dark pupils darted left and right, up and down, scanning across and along the sickly gas cloud that swallowed them up. She swallowed again, and shuddered as the ship was knocked slightly on their right. Another cold chill ran up her spine.

”Take her right, right!” She said, a little faster and louder, to move their left wing away from a floating chunk of spinning metal.

Joon didn’t move in her seat, but felt her heart thumping against her chest and a feeling like she was trying to burst out of her own body as panic set on. The large planet of Korriban was in the distance, laughing at her.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

The Initium rattled. Control in hand, Ayra reared left, avoiding what appeared to be the loose end of a fin from a destroyed star ship. She briefly wondered how many ships had been caught in the Stygian Caldera. The eras that each debris represented. How many lives had been lost, trying to make their way to the Sith Worlds.

Guided by her own Force Powers, Ayra felt in control. It was far easier to enter the Esstran Sector, than it was to leave it and so she knew the real test would be leaving the region. But this wasn't the first time Ayra had done this. She had done the same on Dromund Kaas, when the Galactic Republic-Mandalorian coalition defeated the Sith Empire seven years ago.

"Let go of your fear," Ayra commanded. "Sith do not know feel fear. We implement it on others. Master it. Control it. Focus on your aggressive feelings, Joon. Focus on this Stygian Caldera. Think about how moronic- how it would be beneath you- to die here, in these circumstances. You are better than this. Focus."

 

[Connor Harrison]

As the ship shook a little, horrid memories of the troop transport carrying Joon and five Stormtroopers raced back to her mind. The violent shaking as a barrage of fire hit them; the claustrophobic feeling being slammed against others as the ship was forced down; the moronic actions that brought her ship down.

Glancing at Ayra, Joon was wide-eyed, as if looking for an answer to be provided, and there was only one thing she could do. Turning back to the sickly gas cloud that they were navigating, the clone lowered her head and focused forward, beyond the gas cloud and beyond the cockpit. She wanted to know what was out there - she was in control. She wasn't going to crash and burn and destroy her only friend.

Eyes narrowing, Joon found they started to flicker and close as her head throbbed. Feeding from Ayra, she felt a strength and an alien, god-like sense of sight that allowed her to feel what was happening outside their craft. The ship wobbled, and she simply went with it, not fighting.

”Accelerate the ship faster - more debris falling behind us in our trail that will cripple us. The rocks ahead are too small to do damage - go through them. There's chemical energy along the lower section of the gas. Prepare to push upwards as it tries to suck the ship down.”

Her voice was flowing, as if reading a map. She remained closed and kept the feeling of survival in her mind's eye. She was NOT going to crash and burn today.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

The Initium continued to shake and buckle, as turbulence continued to rattle the Sith Lord and her Apprentice. Ayra nodded, listening to JN-4, following her instructions. With her concentration tied on flying the ship, her own senses focused on avoiding debris, it was up to the clone to pinpoint the path that led to their salvation on Korriban.

Sparks at the back of the ship flew, as the Initium knocked into something. Fire came next, engulfed the back of the ship in flames. The Sith Lord roared, "Ignore it! If we move to put it out, we'll be destroyed by the Stygian Caldera anyway. We'll deal with it later."

Pushing up through the nebula, Ayra found the impulse engines beginning to slow. Something must have dislodged the engine, causing the back of the ship to be caught on fire. Sweating profusely, from a mixture of heat and the situation at hand, Ayra continued to guide the Initium further into the Stygian Caldera. It was too late to turn back now. The way only was going to go forward.

 

[Connor Harrison]

If she could take herself back to the Imperial transport again, she would. The roar of flame from the exposed tear in the hull; the panic from the troopers, the nosedive into the ground. All of it could be avoided, if Joon knew what she knew now.

Instead of the transport, it was the Initium that was on fire and near nose-diving, but Joon wasn’t going to let it crash and burn into a rock, or the planet. She trusted Ayra to pilot the ship, and she kept her eyes closed to see beyond them into the gas giant.

Her hand reached out to clasp Ayra’s arm.

”Climb. Climb as high as you can and cut the engine. Let it guide us through without fighting it. When the opening comes, accelerate us out of it.”

She was seeing circles in her vision, and blurred patterns of the gas swirling around them and the debris. It seemed that the Sith wanted those to fight the defence on getting through to Korriban and in turn destroy themselves. But what if the Sith felt that those who simply trusted in their own abilities would make it through alive without trying to fight anything at all?

It would be the last mistake she’d ever make if it was wrong.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Ayra climbed up, before letting the engines die. Smoke filled the cockpit, making her eyes water. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. Lifting her arm over her face, the other held over the controls, she fought to stay awake. As the Initium hurled through, carried by the momentum created by the now cut off impulse engines and space, she commanded the computer to begin filtering the smoke out of the cabin before either women died from asphyxiation.

She felt that they were about to leave the Stygian Caldera. The Force told her it was so. Leaning forward, Ayra gripped hold of the controls and revved the engines hard, hurtling the Intium through the nebula. Through the view, outside of the viewing screen, the various debris and yellow mist of the Stygian Caldera cleared, revealing the darkness of space. They had made it through.

JN-4 would learn that the Sith were never stagnant, and so, Ayra was instantly up on her feet, not bothering with the process of relief and then the sudden realization that they were still on fire. Instead, she grabbed hold of the fire extinguisher and began to spray the compartment. Foam mixed with smoke and fire, dousing the flames and putting it out, over the various crates that had held their supplies. The foodstuffs were done for, but that was the least of Ayra's concern right now. They were safe.

Throwing the extinguisher aside, the Sith Lord climbed back into the pilots seat and finally sank, panting, wheezing, trying to breathe. The smoke begun to clear, but it would take a few more minutes and so the Sith Lord did her best to continue staying awake, gulping in air as she sat there.

 

[Connor Harrison]

It was hard enough keeping calm at the best of times, but as the ship lurched and Ayra moved, Joon came back to the here and now, severing whatever connection she had with the Force. She pushed herself back in her seat and turned her head, but found she couldn’t breathe out after her deep breath in. The throat had closed, and her panic started again.

Thankfully there was enough commotion for Ayra to attend to the fire, and Joon gasped, mouth opening and closing for something to happen. It was then the wheezing started, a strange almost animal noise coming from her throat as the pinhole opening started to form and her fight to breathe continued and not pass out.

Holding her chest and pushing on her throat, Joon tilted her head back and tried anything to open the airwaves. Then it happened- the muscles relaxed and the airway was open. Dirty oxygen filled her lungs, and forced her to cough, and wretch, fighting to take breath in and expel the smoke at the same time. A cold sweat had formed, and the relief washed over here as she sat forward, head hanging as she took in each life-saving breath.

Resting her head on her palm, Joon closed her eyes and slowly turned; Ayra was back and the ship was steady and grey smoke twirled above them being vapored out.

She wanted to speak, but she didn’t know what to say or how to explain anything that had happened. It was a nightmare, and she didn’t like it Joon looked up out of the viewport, breathing out slowly and deeply.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Time passed, and with it, the smoke that filled the Initium was filtered out. Through the viewing screen, Ayra saw the plumes passing by outside, from where the impulse engines had been damaged. Sparks still occasionally flew, leaving a burning, acidic smell in the air. It joined the smell of the foam, which littered the back of the ship, over the crates that had held their food and water rations.

"Ironic," muttered Ayra. "It appears the Sun Guards forgot to load our fuel. If they had, we would be dead." It was a source of irony. That they were only saved because a simpleton forgot to load the fuel that would have ignited in the fire, murdering Ayra and JN-4 in the process. That two women who were destined to change the Galaxy could die in such a way. There was a lesson to be learned here, but Ayra would not voice it. It was one she had already learned, when she had fought Rave Merrill. She thought she had learned it then, but obviously not. She would endeavor not to repeat the same mistakes.

Turning her gaze to JN-4, Ayra asked with a hoarse voice, "Are you injured?"

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon nodded, head hanging forward, arms on her knees. The flicks of hair on her brow were matted with sweat, and her whole body felt uncomfortably warm.

”I am fine, Lord Ayra. I am sorry again for failing you. I should have counted up the fuel and checked it was there. I could have prevented this incident.”

Closing her eyes, she was angry at her self, mouthing a curse in Huttesse she had used in her early days after leaning it. She bit down on her lip in self-harm and shook her again again before raising it with a loud inward breath. Dabbing her brow with her palm, she regained herself and looked over the controls.

”Each time I let you down, I hate myself. It will not happen again - each error I make will be the last, and it will not happen again. I swear.”

Joon gently flicked her eyes sideways to see if Ayra was still watching her.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Ayra turned in her seat, annoyed. "See that this was not your fault. Pay more attention to what I say, Joon. It is a good thing- however ironic it is- that the Sun Guard did not load the fuel I told them to put in with our supplies or we would both we dead. The lesson to be learned here is that neither of us are infallible. That we are susceptible to the embrace of death, by the most ordinary of things."

Turning her gaze back to the viewing screen ahead, she continued. "We would not have made out through the Stygian Caldera without your abilities in the Force. Learn to differentiate between what is your fault and what is now."

The constant blame on herself ties into her trauma, thought Ayra. This is a genetic default, I think. Cloning can be tricky. No doubt, the blame here lies in the scientists on Duro. I also sense she is plagued by the death of the other clones. This loss is a pathway to unlocking her emotions, but she will be useless to me if she cannot control them.

"It would seem that the Initium requires extensive repairs. We have no choice but to land on Korriban."

Setting course for Korriban, Ayra begun the slow movement towards the planet. She dared not risk engaging the hyperdrive. By her estimations, it would take them three days to reach the Horuset system via impulse. She could get them there sooner, but the Initium was using it's back up systems and so it was significantly slower.

Closing her eyes, Ayra leaned back in her seat. "Our supplies are gone. Our ship is heavily damaged. We have suffered much in the past few hours, but we are set to suffer far more in the next coming days."

"It takes the Human body four days at a maximum, before it dies of thirst. It takes roughly around three weeks from starvation. This is entirely dependent on the persons health and physical well being. I estimate I could last around three days without water. Judging by our present course, it will take us roughly three days to arrive on Korriban."

"The only settlement on Korriban is Dreshdae, which is particularly rough, even if we were not dying of thirst or hunger. The Initium is incredibly rare- only one of it's kind has ever been built- and so I want to avoid contact with any of the natives, especially given the recent rumors about the Primeval and Silver Sanctum coming and going from the grave world."

"Furthermore, Korriban is a desert world. It is never warm and is hazardous during the night, as temperatures go below freezing. It is the coldest desert I have ever been on, almost like the dark side was clinging onto your skin. Suffice to say, we won't be finding any water anywhere else than Dreshdae."

Propping both feet on the dashboard nonchalantly, Ayra crossed one leg over the other, almost to relax. "But the Sith use their suffering to fuel their powers. Our pain has only just begun. But grow used to starvation, Joon. For the dark side of the Force is a pathway to many powers, which is akin to the hunger that you will feel in the pit of your stomach in the next few hours. As that hunger grows, so too will your desperation and there, I sense you will make a decision."

"Whether or not you cling to life is your prerogative now. There is nothing I can do to help you. At some point, death will visit you. Whether or not you make it your ally, in order to barter to stay alive, can only be done through your Force powers."

"Cling onto life, Joon. Rage against the dying of the light."

Darth Ayra did not expect this lesson to come so early into the apprenticeship. For all Darth Pandeima's faults, at least her training exercises had been controlled. Or perhaps that was the problem in the first place. Ayra had not experienced true suffering until she had almost died to Rave Merrill, which had awoken her to the truth to Pandeima, eventually leading up to the moment Ayra had murdered her on Chandrila.

Suffering can cleanse one of weakness, thought Ayra. Perhaps this will be the breakthrough I require to turn this girl. Suffer well, Joon. Suffer well.

 

[Connor Harrison]

The clone sat back, nodding gently, trying to take in this suddenly dire predicament and bleak outlook from Ayra about both their situation and destination. She looked out into nothingness, as her Master was doing, and shifted to get comfortable, toying with her hand, missing the dog-tags; missing the comfort.

”This isn’t how I thought it would be. Still, I have nowhere else to go now, so be it.”

It felt like it was going to be the longest few days of her life, however, if she could take herself back to the desperation of hunting bugs on Duro for basic nutrients and fats, then maybe she could tap into her survival instinct.

- - - - - - - - - -​

Joon didn’t know how long it had been. You didn’t get days and nights in space. Ayra didn't seem to want to talk or have her company, and Joon knew she was annoyed. And Joon was starting to learn what it felt like to BE annoyed.

She was sat in the hold, back to a crate of charred supplies. With her hand, she lifted a discarded fire extinguisher with the Force power she had tried to forget. She did it with her eyes open. She did it with her eyes closed. She did it with one hand, and with two. Moving it up and down, moving it lengthways, and around the entire hold itself.

The Force was starting to make sense to her, a little. A connection with the elements around you enabled one to control and mould them to your will, and with greater strength and stronger resolve in yourself and the Force, the stronger and more powerful the outcome.

The black jacket was off now, left on her cockpit chair. She rubbed her arms under the basic white top feeling the chill of space, or the Force, or the hunger – she didn’t know. The hardest part was keeping the mind active and not getting cabin fever with little to do, little company and nothing to stimulate the brain.

Joon closed her eyes and pulled her hair back with both hands, letting out a sigh. There had to be something she could find or so to get basic sustenance. Maybe the Force could be used on her own physical being and mind to carry her forward? It was a brave thing to wonder, and if they didn’t get there soon then she would have to tap into it.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

In the three days that the Initium was guided towards Korriban, Darth Ayra found herself in the most hateful of moods, borne out of reflection over her life and the transgressions that had occurred. The way her family had shut her away from Chandrila society, out of fear of her powers. How her parents fussed over her elder siblings because they were normal. She hated how her brothers and sisters considered their technological trinkets more important than their little sister. How she hated the Chandrilian obsession with technology in general. She loathed that she had been born on such a backwater planet, full of simpleton farmers.

She relived the death of her family. Remembered the hot flashes that had scarred her vision and how her powers had exerted themselves over each of them, bending bone; tearing flesh; and the severing of their ties to life. She hated the plan that Darth Pandeima had for her. That she was only meant to be a useful toy, like all the other women that had come before. She hated that her own Sith Master was a testimony to the weakness of the modern era, to the point that Pandeima hadn't even realized the enlightenment that came with the idea of beginning the Rule of Two in the first place.

There wasn't enough days for the Dark Lord to reflect on all of it. That she had been able to physically grasp hold of each memory- each transgression- and pour all her hate into all of it, was enough to sustain her from the thirst and hunger that had claimed her physical vessel. The best within had risen it's snout to scream in the face of Ayra's most oldest of allies. That it was not her time to succumb to the lure of death's embrace. She had far too much work to do.

Time was a resource that had joined the losses that she and JN-4 had lost in the fire, for when Ayra finally lifted her blurred gaze to the viewing screen, she no longer saw plumes of smoke from the impulse engines or the darkness of space, but instead a blue sky. Rising up in her seat, lips cracked, the Dark Lord was met with the embrace of the coldest desert in the entire Galaxy. They were on Korriban, shipwrecked but still alive. Or perhaps, only one of them had survived to tell the tale?

Slowly pushing her fatigued body from the pilots chair, Ayra stood and turned to see what had happened to JN-4. Oddly, she licked her lips at the thought of the woman. She would do anything to survive. If the clone had died, then perhaps, there was more of an immediate use for her body, rather than the boarder perspective Ayra had originally in mind.

But she wasn't thinking of the Sith Imperative or the Grand Plan in that moment, for her survival instincts had taken over. All Ayra wanted in that moment was a meal. Hoarsely, she called out, "Joon? Do you still live?"

 

[Connor Harrison]

Aside from the feeling of the body slowly eating itself, and all the fats and proteins being rationed around the body, Joon had had moments of sheer delusional macabre. Thankfully her time on Duro had given her a head-start in preparing the mind and body not to eat. This had been harder, granted, but by keeping her muscles burning away with soft exercise laid on the floor, she was still alive.

Dry lips were the obvious sign of dehydration, and Joon refrained from breathing through her mouth as long as possible to keep the lips air tight and retain as much saliva as possible. She was sat back in the hold, legs out, hands down and eyes closed picturing her days with the JN sisters in the safety of Duro. This was nothing like she had expected, and she was angry at Ayra for pulling her out of her comfort zone – and angry at herself for following.

Her eyes were tired, her hair scraped back again in a dirty ponytail. Looking out to the cockpit, the cracked voice of the Sith reminded her she was still alive. A shame.

To survive meant to take care of yourself any way possible. If Ayra was in a weaker state, Joon would have done what was necessary to cull the weaker woman and survive a little longer. Force powers seemingly didn’t do anything to combat nature, and the body was trying to survive on its own without this power she preached.

”Yes.”

She tried to speak twice, but a dry throat clammed up the words. She eventually croaked a reply and kept it short, and stayed still in the hold, looking to the far wall. This wasn’t how a secret clone should have been treated.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Ayra allowed her tongue to worm it's way out of her mouth, to lick the cracked lips that surrounded it. But there was no saliva to wet them. Gingerly lifted her arms to the back of her head, she tied her dark blonde hair into a pony tail, to keep it out of her eyes. She winced in pain and looked down to see red on her abdomen. No doubt an injury caused by the Initium's crash landing. She also felt dizzy, which was a sign of concussion and subsequently explained why she had no recollection of the Initium crash landing in the first place.

Kneeling down beside JN-4, Ayra lifted a hand to claim her chin, checking her for injuries, like a Mother to a wounded child. Voice still hoarse, she retracted her hand as she said, "We're on Korriban, but we've crash landed. I must have hit my head during the crash. I can't remember it."

"We're dying, Joon. We need to find some water. Can you move?"

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon winced, the bones aching and muscles tired in her body, weaker by the day. ”I can move. And I’m not dying.”

She stood and held onto the side of the ship, getting her balance and looking at Ayra, someone now who was starting to bring her nothing but pain. It was thanks to her pitiful existence on Duro that malnutrition wasn’t the worst thing she could be faced with, having to accommodate small, turgid food in the guise of large insects and natural fauna. Water, however, that was the concern.

”Outside. We need to find….” she swallowed tightly, ”…a well, or fauna, or a water retainer around any establishment. Water is there…you just have to know where…to look.”

She looked down at Ayra, and held out her hand. The planet was burning in through the ship so it would be good to get outside and have fresh air at least rather than the stale confides of the crippled ship.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Ayra helped JN-4 up, turning her gaze to the rays of light that were creeping into the ship. White wisps rose from both women's mouths, so cold was Korriban that it felt like the dark side was physically touching you. Grabbing hold of her torn Sith robe, Ayra pulled the robe over her body, wincing in pain as she stretched her side to pull the garment on, tearing the injury that had occurred from the crash.

Waving for JN-4 to follow, Ayra climbed out of the Initium and emerged on the side of the ship. Judging from the angle that the Initium was in, it appeared that the ship had crashed on the other side. In the horizon, she could spot the torn wing laid in the middle of the desert. Licking the inside of her mouth, Ayra was quickly reminded of her immediate concerns. Saving the Initium would have to come later.

Sliding down the edge of the ship, Ayra landed hard on the sand, buckling forward and landing on a knee, before steadying herself. She quickly climbed to her feet, not wanting to show weakness in front of the clone. I have no idea where we are, she thought to herself. We have to get to Dreshdae. It is the only water source I know of.

Looking back up, Ayra said to JN-4: "Find my Lenoi, the datapad. We'll need directions to Dreshdae or we won't survive the day."

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joon followed Ayra across the ship to where they could climb out. She watched the Sith Lord slide down and stumble forward, and looked up at the harsh surroundings that lay before them. Ayra’s command caused her to look down the black wing and nod.

She slunk back inside.

Turning, she wrapped both arms around herself and lay back on the wall, all at an awkward angle due to the crash. This wasn’t what she had expected. From such a promising start, it was turning into a near mirror image of Duro – the escape, the crash landing, the survival – what next? Would she kill or be killed herself?

Their ship was a dark chasm before her, and she nodded to herself and started through again back where she came from and ventured into the quarters she had been shown once; Ayra’s. It was then her thoughts returned to Asemir – what would he be doing now? What would he have done?

It didn’t matter; he was a liar. Ayra was right, even if Joon was struggling. The JN project had once chance of surviving; she was it. At the inconvenient angle, Joon took her time to survey the messy quarters, due to the crash, and saw a pale blue blinking light at the bottom of a wooden chest on the ground. Moving to it, the clone knelt and saw what must have been her data pad. Taking it, not bothering to look, she returned out, past the cockpit until something caught her eye on the floor.

It was only because the object seemed to reflect some light from outside as it beamed in; the lightsaber hilt of Ayra. Joon looked at it, envisioning the weapon alive, as she knelt and took that in her palm too.

With data pad and hilt, she climbed up into the light of Korriban and made her way down the wing, Ayra a good few yards up ahead now surveying the area. Landing with little grace, the impact knocking the already weak muscles, Joon groaned and stood after a moment, and walked to Ayra.

”Here, I found them.”

She was stood behind and held out both objects.

[member="Darth Ayra"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Joon"] |

Call it arrogance, ignorance, foolishness or a bad case of messiah complex, but Darth Ayra knew that she wasn't going to die on Korriban. This cold desert was nothing in comparison to the intricate design that had been woven around herself and the Sith Lord that would be her apprentice. Korriban was much a test as it was a lesson. JN-4 had survived the Stygian Caldera, the crash but it remained to be seen if she could survive the cold desert that laid ahead of them.

Of course, Ayra had left the lightsaber on the Initium. It tested the clone. Forced her to think. It would make her think about her own survival. That was the basics of being Sith. No matter what, you had to survive. To live another day, to undo your enemies and complete your work on that day. Sith were supposed to be immortal and Ayra would test the realms of JN-4 mortality, including her instincts.

"Your instincts do not betray you, apprentice." Ayra's voice, still hoarse, was barely above a whisper, as she reclaimed her lightsaber. "In dire circumstances such as these, the brain can be just as deadly as your environment. I sense your anger towards your suffering. You should be angry. Hold onto that feeling."

Placing her lightsaber onto her hip, Ayra turned her back to JN-4. Already, blood had begun to clot itself in small, minor drips on the barren, cold sand, towards the side of Ayra's left leg. Slowly, the wound on the Sith Lord's torso continued to ooze blood. Bringing up the holographic map, Ayra brought up the route from the Initium's crash to the Dreshdae settlement.

"Six..." Ayra cleared her throat. It hurt to talk. "Six hours, apprentice, to Dreshdae..." Turning to the left, Ayra stepped over the bloody sand and began her pilgrimage to Dreshdae, in the search of salvation from death.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Her shoulders hunched, trying to bring her body tight together to act as comfort, Joon looked up at Ayra as she worked the datapad, and reflected on both her feelings and their situation. She was right – the clone was angry and it was festering away inside her. Angry at where they were. Angry at what was happening. Angry at the Sith herself.

”We won’t last,” she muttered, trying not to waste energy.

Joon looked out to nothing except the horizon, the perfect blend of colour from the sky and the land almost moulding into one. It’s a shame she couldn’t enjoy it more, now she had bene ripped from Duro and faced death in a place as empty as this – what WAS this world? Where were they really?

The stomach pains started with the cramps at her sides. Her eyes were stinging and heavy, and her enthusiasm was low. However she knew she’d just have to keep going until she collapsed, or was killed. This was suicide.

She stopped as he feet sank into the sand a little.

”Ayra, you got us…you got us here - ” she pointed at the Sith, one arm wrapped around her own body, ” – you have power! You get us out!”

Her voice was broken and weak, but carried a sliver of power. However, it was something she hadn’t done before; vocally attack the one who saved her. It seemed the desire to survive this mess was stronger than she expected.

[member="Darth Ayra"]