Come Fly With Me

[Caulder Dune]

HYPERSPACE
THE MACHINATOR

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

Bzzt.

The sound of the cattle prod cackling with electricity would probably arouse Jemmila from her slumber a microsecond before it actually poked her in the neck, giving her a harsh jolt of electricity to start her day. Fortunately it was on the lowest setting. While it may have looked like otherwise, no one present wanted her dead. The idea was to anger her as much as possible, as an inordinate amount of hatred is always useful for training in the Dark Side. The lights in her stateroom would suddenly blare, rather harshly, and allow her to see both of the rather intimidating TA4 Ultra Battle Droids on either side of her bed. One, of course, was holding the cattle prod in question. Both of them lorded silently over the woman, red photoreceptors glowing ominously.

Already, several TA1s were busying themselves hosting up the furniture and other lavish decorations of her stateroom and taking them outside. Nothing was spared. Rugs, lamps, blankets- everything that wasn't nailed down was swept away by cold, metallic hands. Darth Adekos himself wasn't present, but a TA3 Tactical Droid by the designation TD-18 entered the room shortly there after. Luckily for Jemmila, TD-18 came bearing gifts; replacements for the things she had lost. Or, more accurately, replacement. A rather uncomfortable sleeping bad was rolled up and cradled under his shoulder. In his other hand, a tin can with the logo of the One Sith stamped into the side, as well as a can opener and fork. A stark contrast to whatever dinner she had ordered previously before going to bed.

Unceremoniously, TD-18 dropped the bedroll at the foot of the bed.

"You are to report to Lord Adekos' in thirty standard minutes."

He tossed the can at her. Underhanded, naturally.

"Consume your breakfast, dress yourself appropriately." TD-18's head turned to direct her gaze to a bland grey jumpsuit that had taken the place of a painting. It already looked like it was too large for her. He fixed his photoreceptors back on Jemmila. "These droids will escort you to him once you are ready... Or the allotted time has passed."

Having no further purpose in being there, TD-18 deposited the cutlery he had brought with him and exited the room. The TA4s followed, albeit they remained just outside her door. After a few more minutes, the remaining TA1s left as well. Presumably they would return for the bed while she was gone.

 

[Zola]

“Son of a Bantha,” Jemmila spat as she was vaulted from her slumber by a sharp electric shock, her arms and legs tangling in her sheets. Apparently, her Master didn’t believe in alarm chronos and instead employed a more unorthodox method for waking up his sleeping Hapan Acolyte. Upon seeing the dark figures hovering around her bed, her arms instinctively crossed her chest. Once she realized they were armored robot soldiers, she her hands drop. But not her guard. The cattle prod loomed forward in the droid’s metal grip, and she kept it in her peripheral vision as she watched the other droids busy themselves around her bedroom.

Perhaps Darth Adekos had tired of her brattiness or this was a more tough love approach to her training, but Jemmila was not thrilled about the ascetic new look her room was getting. They were taking everything, even her cigarettes! Furthermore, the Hapan didn’t know which she was more upset about, the fact that she had been electrocuted awake or made to wear an unflattering, saggy grey jumpsuit. Both caused a sea of rage to begin rising into her bloodstream, ready to burst through the levee of her ever-present cool.

As the TD-18 turned to exit, she hurled the can back at the droid, narrowly missing its metal head by a mere centimeter. Once they had clanked out, Jemmila went about retrieving the can, eating the bland food, and climbing into the even blander jumpsuit. Then, she finger-combed her hair into some semblance of a style, letting out a long sigh when she laid eyes on her barren room.

Thirty minutes later, the droids returned and Jemmila was escorted to Darth Adekos as promised. Her eyes held more than an edge of fury that she was desperately trying to control.

“Good morning to you, too, Master.” the Hapan said with a tight smirk, putting deliberate emphasis on the title. She wasn't going to let him see her sweat this if she could help it. In her current riled up state that was a big "if" indeed.

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

The room Jemmila was escorted to was large, circular. It was also dotted with pedestals, atop which sat various metal pyramids, all constructed of durasteel. Some were larger than others, but for the most part they all looked rather heavy. The largest of which was around the same height of a Vornskr. The droids neglected to follow her into the room, stopping just before the door. In the center, Darth Adekos stood. Hands still clasped behind his back, he turned away from the datapad sized pyramid he'd been inspecting to see Jemmila enter. He smiled, but not in the warm friendly sort of way. More in the "yes, I tormented you this morning and will probably continue to do so for the rest of your time as my apprentice" sort of way.

"Ah. The prodigal acolyte returns to waking world." He said, mockery apparent in his tone. "I trust you slept well? How was breakfast?"

He could see she was furious. It boiled within her. Invisible to most, but for a monster like Adekos that fed off such things, plain to see. He wanted to see her explode, to test the limits of her patience. It seemed she'd already been brought close, but the stunt he had pulled with the luxurious suite being turned into an uncomfortable barracks could only be done once. Her trust in him was already disintegrated. Going forward, more creative means would have to be employed. Hopefully not involving violence, as Adekos considered himself above such degenerate behaviors.

He didn't wait for her answers. Those other questions had been rhetorical. "Ooh... I sense a great anger in you, Acolyte. Frustration. Hatred. Why is that?"

 

[Zola]

Jemmila came to the sudden, sad realization that Darth Adekos had lulled her into complacency during the Coruscant round up. The Master that stood before her was a different animal entirely. His sardonic words were a lightning rod for her naked rage. The insufferable bastard was mocking her, and the worst part was that she felt like she deserved all of his derisiveness for being so foolish. Throughout the years, Jemmila had always been her own harshest critic, although it seemed like her new Master might be gunning for that distinction. Through gritted teeth, chest rising and falling in double time, the Hapan began to speak. Then she stopped before she even formed the words.

Suddenly the seas were calm again. Not a bubble or a ripple. Not even a breath in her body. She left her Master's last question, the non-rhetorical one, dangling in the air like rotten, overripe fruit. Then Jemmila closed her eyelids and concentrated on connecting herself to the Force, pulling the dark energy into the leylines of her body, thick, coagulated darkness filling her veins. In the next nanosecond, Jemmila launched herself at Darth Adekos, fingers twisted into claws, desperate to connect to his flesh, to rip off his mask, and to scratch his face like a wildcat.

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

She launched himself at him, and the Darth almost found himself surprised. So soon had he had found the end of her patience? Malevolence exploded from her like a wild, starving Rancor. A vortex of hatred all directed at him, but it lacked focus. Discipline. Rehearsal. Adekos decided to remind her of this. Just before her hand couch brush his face, the Force welled up within him, a telekinetic burst that would send her flying back into the wall at high speeds. Bones wouldn't be broken, but the Hapan would find herself impacting an unforgiving durasteel wall with enough force to wind her, not to mention the similarly unforgiving durasteel floor would be the only thing waiting to catch her.

"Must I remind you, acolyte, where you are? Whose presence you stand in?" Adekos reached a hand out, and a telekinetic grip would seize her throat, impairing but not stopping her breathing. "There is a hierarchy on this vessel, and you are at the bottom. This is the way of the Dark Side. You have fury, but you must learn to use it. As of now, it uses you, and that is a path to nowhere... Except premature destruction."

To emphasize his point, the grip tightened. Darth Adekos would be ashamed to admit he relished her fear- if she did give any off, at any rate. His voice echoed through the room, a tone of sternness- tinted with annoyance -warped by both a modulator and the eldritch powers of the Dark Side. He kept the pressure for a few more agonizing moments before continuing.

"You must master your anger, acolyte. And only through me can you do so."

At that, Adekos released his grip on her throat. He allowed her several moments to enter and exit the coughing fit that ensued and regain her composure. In the meantime, the Umbaran regarded the hand he had been using to direct the Force as if he had just plunged it into filth. So much for avoiding violence. They had hardly gotten into the first lesson before she had gone ballistic. As he had assessed previously, he had his work cut out for him.

He sighed. "I do loathe to engage in acts of violence against women, Jemmila. So, please, restrain yourself. I'd rather not have to conduct myself in such a manner again. Are you ready to learn?"

 

[Zola]

Darth Adekos sent his pupil flying backwards, and after her body made painful impact with the durasteel wall, it tumbled to the floor. There he was. The monster. Living proof of the notorious cruelty of the Sith. With adrenaline as her only fuel, the Hapan woman rose to her feet, but didn’t gain her composure just yet for her throat was being agonizingly constricted. Darth Adekos was choking her from afar. It dawned on Jemmila just how fragile she was, her windpipe like the stem of a flower in his grip. She could very well die in this room before her training even began.

In that moment, her fear matched her rage from the previous moments. Emotional extremes that were two sides of the same coin. With knitted brows and hands scrabbling at her own throat, Jemmila stood before Darth Adekos, listening to him speak of mastering her anger. There would be no shirking of this painful lesson, but on the off-chance that the Hapan did feel something, she felt it so deeply, that the emotions encompassed her and eclipsed all reason. In that sense, what he asked of her would be a difficult task.

Once the choking stopped, the Hapan coughed and sputtered for what seemed like an eternity. His last comment about women piqued her interest. So she was a fragile flower it seemed. She knew this was a sinuous path she walked, but at the same time, a gauntlet had been thrown down in the battle for her soul. With words abrading her tender throat, she defiantly leveled a question at the Dark Lord.

“Why do you abhor violence against women, Master Adekos? Do you feel that women can be any less vicious than men?”

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

Darth Adekos folded his arms across his chest, regarding Jemmila with a disappointed expression. Defiant through and through. What was wrong with these sorts of people? Generally speaking, the best way to end defiance was to award good behavior and chastise bad, avoiding corporal punishment. But so far he'd seen nothing good- and she tried to attack him. These sorts of lessons had to be taught the hard way, and it wasn't the greatest of starts. Already this had the makings of an apprenticeship that would be far messier than he generally liked. Now she was asking questions. Adekos eventually decided he might as well answer, seeing as they were already woefully behind schedule in this training regiment.

"Personal preference. There are women who wield the Dark Side with greater power than either of us can possibly imagine." He pursed his lips, already regretting having humored her with his answer. "Are you prepared to begin your training, or would you have me prattle about women who've achieved virtual apotheosis rather than join them?"

He stared expectantly at her, equally ready to initiate the lesson as he was to defend himself from a second helping of her wild, flailing rage. This was not going according to his plan. Adekos was indeed the type of person to grow increasingly frustrated the farther the plan deviated off course. If there was no plan, anarchy persisted, and anarchy could never achieve anything meaningful.

 

[Zola]

Intense displeasure shone in her Master’s yellow eyes, and his posture had the look of a disappointed owner of a small pet which had refused to be housebroken. What did he expect after the stunt he orchestrated earlier that morning? Its intention was clearly meant to rankle the acolyte into a reaction. It wasn’t her fault that her reaction happened to be more savage than he was used to. Ah, but there it was. The lesson he was trying to teach her. It practically smacked her in the head, much like that durasteel wall. Self-control. Mastery over one's tempations. It was starting to remind her of those Jedi tenets that her sister had been so enamored with.

One benefit to being an emotional pendulum was the capacity to swing the other way without a moment’s hesitation. As intense as the thunderstorm had been, it soon breezed through. As soon as she made sure she had no broken bones, Jemmila stood before her Master with a tranquil expression. Although Jemmila wouldn’t have admitted it, Darth Adekos was right. The longer they stood around talking about galactic politics between the sexes, the less time she would have to learn his teachings.

Jemmila enjoyed dissonance in relationships, but she also enjoyed being able to speak without a device implanted in her larynx. She shook her head in affirmation and answered his question with a more mitigating tone.

“Yes, I’m prepared to begin.”.

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

"Good... Good. Come closer, please."

He waited patiently for his budding, now tempered acolyte to cross the floor back over to him. As of now the pyramids were just going to have to sit there until they got around to utilizing them. Hopefully she wouldn't end up flinging them at him in the next microsecond, as she was now apparently prone to do. She seemed pacified for now, though Adekos still felt a personal distaste for his actions. He had always considered those who treat the fairer sex with a little more courtesy to be of higher sophistication. Or such were the values instilled upon him by the Umbaran nobility. Darth Adekos would hide this displeasure cunningly enough. Others would easily take it as a sign of weakness, particularly his acolyte. Especially his acolyte.

"Now, tell me then." He continued, pleasant once more. "Why are you angry? Answer honestly, it is not a question intended to entrap you."

 

[Zola]

Despite her dwindling trust, Jemmila stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and her Master. His question was surprising. Why was she angry? Why wasn’t she angry? Frankly, her extant rage had always been a trusty muse for a very long time, but she had rarely stopped to examine the reasons why. However, the more she thought about them, the higher the explanations rose to the surface. Fresh bruises still blooming on her body where she’d hit the wall, Jemmila took a deep breath, and staring up at him, her eyes calm pools of water, answered.

“I’m angry at you for making a fool of me this morning. I’m angry at myself for trusting you. I’m angry at my sister for abandoning me. I’m angry at the fact that I was orphaned as a child and I’ll never know the real story behind the deaths of my biological parents. I’m angry because I need a goddamn cigarette. And I’m angry because I look horrible in this jumpsuit.”

Well, she didn't say they were good reasons. The side of her lip quirked into a testy smile. The Hapan wasn’t trying to make light of the situation. She could give a kark about the jumpsuit. Well, mostly. Humor was merely a mechanism to keep her in control of her emotions. Those were the honest answers. Now she waited to see what he would do with them.

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

She would come to realize all this deception was a necessary part of her training, though that wouldn't be until later. Adekos did not normally go out of his way to torment people who didn't particularly deserve to be tormented. That was a hobby of the less inspiring caliber of Dark Side practitioners. In this scenario, it was a necessity, and every prod, jab, insult, or lie had a distinct purpose to serve. The Dark Side was not a pretty thing to master. If she wanted to be coddled and immerse herself in warm, happy, sun-shiney thoughts, she would have gone along with the Jedi. But that was a lecture for another day, now was the time for elaboration.

He rolled his eyes at the mention of how she looked in the jumpsuit. It did not escape his notice that he had been engaging in that gesture more frequently since taking her under his wing... And it was still only their first day.

"As I mentioned before," He continued, "The Dark Side requires its users channel their more impassioned emotions, in this case rage, in order to draw upon and manipulate the Force. To this end, the Force can be warped to produce a multitude of results. Shatter and dominate minds, conjure demons constructed of smoke, send streams of lightning upon your foes, even tamper with the very nature of life and death itself."

"But that's all beyond your reach as of now, so you must begin with a more nuanced practice, something basic to both sides of the Force. Telekinesis is basic, simple, and is a staple of both the Sith and the Jedi. Some Sith are known to... Use it..."

He cleared his throat, apparently almost being lost in a memory. Or a nightmare, as all things with Mikhail Shorn could be concerned.

"Start by focusing. Open your senses. Reach out and see if you can feel the Force itself around you."

 

[Zola]

Eyes sealed shut, the Hapan focused inwardly on her emotions, reaching out to connect with the Force through her darker companions, the sorrow and the rage that she held close like dear friends. Her jagged emotions took on thread-like forms, weaving a dark, psychic tapestry in the loom of her body.

Jemmila began to nurture the energy, intertwining it to the darkest appetites of her soul, and just when it felt like it was about to burst forth from inside, she was able to gather more from the ether. Her hold on it was tenuous, and it took all of her concentration to let it flow into the directed channels. It was in danger of either dissipating or erupting if she made one false move.

“I feel a strong connection to the Force,” she told him, eyes still closed, hands at her sides, palms forward, her body thrumming with burgeoning power.

“How? How do I use this?”

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

Darth Adekos could feel the Force well up in her; a budding vortex of spite and similarly negative energy. That was a lot of anger from someone so young. Then again, he had probably been just as angry back in the day himself. Especially in the aftermath of the horrendous 'lessons' he had been given at the Umbaran Sith Academy. Although he hadn't responded as brazenly as she had. The seconds ticked by, and eventually Jemmila found herself in a place of enough power and focus to begin speaking.

"I'm sure you noticed those pyramids when you came here. They are not for show. The Force responds to the strength of your will, which in turn relies on the strength of your emotions. The Force can then be commanded to act upon an object as you see fit. Do so now by levitating one of the pyramids before you."

There were, of course, multiple pyramids of varying sizes. The smallest no bigger than a thermal detonator, the largest roughly the size as a fully developed Vornskr. Adekos figured it would be interesting to see what she chose without offering any specifics and how high he willed it to get off the ground.

 

[Zola]

Jemmila opened her eyes and studied the pyramids for a moment, careful not to let her assessment of their different sizes make her lose focus on the Force. She picked one at random, a pyramid about the size of a small tracker droid, and then focused her will on it. Letting the Force guide her body movements, she extended her arm, her palm facing upwards. Seizing the pyramid with her mind was easier said than done, and her eyes held an intense focus, brows knitted together with exertion.

The Hapan slowly lifted her arm and as she did, she held the durasteel object aloft with only her controlled will. Manipulating the object and its surroundings, its positive space as well as its negative was an incredible feeling. The sheer power one could have over physical matter was astounding. This was the transcendence she sought. How did one not get addicted to the feeling of manipulating what could not be manipulated by even scientific methods? It made her feel other-worldly. Lifting her arm even higher, Jemmila let the pyramid float above the pedestal and then gracefully brought it back down. She tried lifting it again, but the previous effort had drained her. Perhaps she should have chosen a smaller one? Despite her now-strained concentration, the pyramid rose another few inches and then dropped, clattering lightly on the surface of its stand.

Letting the air out of her lungs with a whoosh, she turned to face Darth Adekos, curious about how he deemed her effort. She herself felt proud of it, but she had a feeling that her teacher was grading her on a slightly different scale.

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

Darth Adekos waited with baited breath for any one of the pyramids to begin to rise. Sure enough, one of the pyramids towards the middle did so. Not the largest nor the smallest present, and Adekos found himself smiling at the fact. He wouldn't have to return her to the bargain bin after all. After a few moments, the pyramid descended again. But instead of moving immediately to see his reaction, she attempted to lift it again. A vain effort that only caused the pyramid to jump ever so slightly. She was already drained, as was typical for beginners.

"Good... Good." Adekos said, giving her an approving pat on the shoulder. "I'm impressed. You've managed to do something even the most unlettered of Force User, of any stripe, can do with minimal exertion on their part. Well done."

His hand gently reached out, seizing that same pyramid with the Force and giving it a gentle tug. It straightened itself out on the pedestal and returned to its starting position.

"You seem to have a good grasp of your focus, but you'll need to relax. Being focused and breathing are not mutually exclusive. Try it once more, then we'll move on."

 

[Zola]

So he did have the capacity for praise. Well, sort of. Would wonders never cease? Jemmila turned to him, her lips in a half smile, “Thank you Master Adekos,” she said “Careful you don’t shower me with too much flowery praise, My Lord. Wouldn’t want it going to my head,” She bowed her head politely, trying to hide the smile on her lips. Then Darth Adekos artfully righted the pyramid, with almost mundane ease, as if he were straightening out a tome on a shelf.

It was a bit hard to relax after having been Force choked a few minutes before, but Jemmila thought she’d give it the old college try. She let her shoulders slump and rolled her neck from side to side, clearing her mind of all she could, most especially his persnickety comments. Her arm raised, palm facing upwards, she focused in on the object. She let the Force flow in once again, letting it recharge her body’s drained energy, pushing herself past her physical limits. The pyramid rose off of its pedestal and then did something surprising, for her anyway. It slowly turned in the air, rotating on a horizontal axis for a few seconds. She held it there for a spell, and then with narrowed eyes, flung it violently against the durasteel wall where it clanged to the floor.

Turning to him again, her brown eyes glimmering with amusement, she announced, “I think we can move on now.”

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

"Oh, my dear, but we're just getting started." The Umbaran gave another gesture, this time with a little more flourish than was necessary. "I didn't mean to imply your mastery over telekinetics by offering some token praise. There is always room for improvement."

On his command, the pyramid that had been callously snatched slowly rose from the ground, righted itself, and floated gently back over to the pedestal. It moved quickly and smoothly, as if it were drifting naturally through the vacuum of space after being ejected from a spacecraft. It settled down silently on the pedestal before twitching back into position ever-so-slightly, just like it had been there originally. He hadn't used the Force in this way for a while. It was fun in a juvenile sort of way. Now when was the last time he had really, truly had-

No, not getting into that. Lest Adekos get all sentimental during a training session.

"An adequate understanding of telekinetics is the gate and key to the more advanced powers. When you have mastered the basics, then we move on."

Tantalizing acolytes by denying them what they sought was a basic Sith practice. The fact that now he could do it with training in the Force instead of material comforts not only made it easier, but more satisfying. If she was running this gauntlet only to get the nice bed back, there was hardly any long term point, was there?

"Go ahead. Once more, and with gusto."

 

[Zola]

Jemmila bit her lip to neutralize the smile that was forming. She wasn’t quite sure Darth Adekos was enjoying their banter as much as she, but his dry witticisms were too entertaining not to take pleasure in. Especially when coupled with the irritated flaring of his yellow eyes. The Hapan watched the pyramid levitate flawlessly through the air, as if flowing through a gentle river. She would not tell him in so many words, but his mastery over the Force was inspiring, and Jemmila was beginning to lose the regrets she might have had when he turned her bedroom into a dull cell.

As he requested, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, collecting her focus on the Force and its relationship between her body, the pyramid, and the space between them both. She chose a larger pyramid this time. Not the Vornskr-sized one, but a few ticks smaller. Lifting her palm, Jemmila made the pyramid float upwards again, this time in a more controlled manner. Not quite as precise as the Master, but marginally close to graceful. Once she was drained of energy and could hold it no longer, she lowered the object carefully, no heavy-handed clunking this time. Finally, she let the air out of her lungs and faced him. She was eager to do something else besides levitate triangular shapes, but to tell him so would no doubt guarantee a whole day of doing just that.

“I hope that pyramid was lifted with enough ‘gusto’ for your liking, Master Adekos." Jemmila flashed him a smile that was almost coy. "Forgive me if three-dimensional objects don’t have me flushing with excitement.”

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]

"Learning is seldom an exciting activity. If it was, everyone would pursue an education and the galaxy would be better off as a whole."

Adekos reached out to adjust the pyramid for a third time, only to realize it hadn't even shifted position enough to warrant correction. Ah, there were few things that rivaled the smell of progress in the morning. There was still a long way to go, as Adekos noted when she exhaled loudly before turning to face him. Rote repetition was the best way to master the telekinetic arts. So they would repeat this in a rote manner. This was but one of a number of sessions she would be spending in here, and Adekos probably wouldn't even be present or observant for the majority of them.

There were things to see to beyond simply using the Force. Mandatory sessions in the Lucrehulk's library and the gymnasium would be necessary to cultivate a pupil of both sound mind and body. A strong Force User without physical stamina would tire too easily. A strong Force User without an understanding of history was doomed to failure. Adekos was not the sort of person to waste his time raising up people only for them to fail in the short term.

"You're still not breathing properly." He commented. "When Jedi approach you to arrest and interrogate you for your use of the Dark Side, do you imagine they'll allow you to catch your breath after your every move? Again."

 

[Zola]

Jemmila squirmed uncomfortably when Darth Adekos asked her to repeat the lesson once again. Holding back her usual long dramatic sigh, she raised her arm once again and focused on the row of objects. She chose the same pyramid as before and, using the Force, exerted her will on it, this time lifting it higher, rotating it, and bringing it back down with ease.

The action winded her less than before so without prompting, she repeated the task a few more times, picking different pyramids, still avoiding the largest. Her tendency towards perfectionism would not let her risk failure. Finally, when she was winded enough, she stopped.

“I’m still not sure I know the proper way to breathe,” she admitted, her chest rising and falling under the grey jumpsuit. “Perhaps you could show me?”

[member="Darth Adekos"]