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!

Fortune favours the bold

Balmorra
The last time Aria had come to Balmorra, she had engaged in a chaotic skirmish against the One Sith and nearly been killed twice - which oddly enough was one of her fondest memories. Since then, the One Sith had fallen, she had been almost killed many more times, and had also intensified her training considerably. Fun as it was to spar and sweat and conjure flames, when her lifestyle incited as much chaos as it did it became impossible to function properly without the occasional opportunity to distance herself from it all. Thus, after fighting with her schedule for a few days off, Aria had returned to Balmorra for something of a vacation. Not to stop training, because her training meant everything to her and she saw no need to put it on hold, but to train peacefully and by herself, without the same military structure she followed on Voss.

And so there she had been for the last two days, wandering aimlessly around the planet and sleeping in her statship as she attempted to temporarily slow her rapidly paced lifestyle. She had explored the canyons, she had meditated on the mountaintops, she had practiced all that she had been learning, albeit not half as rigorously as she would were she back on Voss, and it soon became clear just how dull it all was. At first it had been relaxing and she was calmer and better rested - now she was simply restless, debating with herself over the benefits of abandoning the excursion versus remaining on Balmorra. It had not been a difficult debate.

But just as she was nearing her ship to return home, it occurred to Aria that this could be her last chance in weeks, possibly months for unrestricted adventure. If she simply stopped moping, surely excitement would show its face somewhere. It could hardly take that much searching.

[member="Darth Vitium"]
 
Balmorra.

The single-most hated word in her vocabulary at the moment - the name of a planet that had sealed her fate, that had torn apart a family she'd set aside so much of her life to grow. It had dragged her reputation, her identity even, through the dirt and estranged her from her husband and children in one fell swoop. If someone had told her fifteen years ago that she would have been made the pawn of some witch frozen in stasis she would have laughed it off, believed that she was untouchable - which, for all intents and purposes, had been evident by her successive victories in the invasions that the One Sith levied on the Galactic Republic. She'd climbed so high from her original place at the lowest rung on the ladder of authority in that incarnation of the order of the Sith lords. But she had shelved those ambitions when she had met Alric Kuhn, when she carried twins to term, and settled on the life as a housewife. If there was anything she had learned in life by now, however, it was that there was no happy endings for people like her.

She should have known better, known that the peace she was living with was just a self-constructed illusion, a delusion she'd fed to herself. Her guard had been lowered, so low that she'd been taken advantage of by an ancient witch when she'd stumbled across her tomb and nearly freed her into the galaxy - something the crone had achieved following Silara's own death. Life from that moment spiraled into chaos, far out of her control, and resulted in an early death that left her family members suspecting suicide, if they didn't still believe it to this day. Her last memory in life wasn't the moment a lightsaber sank into her chest, or when Siobhan Kerrigan crushed her lung and triggered cardiac arrest, it was when she pushed the Grand Master of the Jedi Order to the brink of falling to the dark side. It angered her that the last living memory of her past life was her last failure, one that was out of her control, and it embittered her.

But she wasn't just here to wallow in pointless indignation, rather she was retracing her steps through the galaxy to ensure that neither of the two people responsible for her demise were still living or breathing. There would be no toying with Corvus Raaf, if she could find her, or any of her remaining family - she, and they, would die the most painful and frightful death that she could afford them. And that witch, Braith, would learn just how terrifying she could be when she was at her least vulnerable. There was no man in her life to cloud her judgement, no children to restrain her from returning from a fight scarred and enraged. She'd drain every last ounce of the force from that witch, then she would rip the life out of her with her bare hands.

-

Silara - No, Darth Vitium was her identity now - had spent much of the past day altering her appearance through Sith alchemy, reshaping her face to at least resemble the face that had been present on the body she had been born with, the body she no longer was in possession of. Though the One Sith was as dead as the Republic these days, it did help when she met with other Sith that predated the current generation if she was a somewhat familiar face. That didn't mean she wanted to be recognized on the street, and was entirely the reason she'd stuck with simply resembling rather than being a perfect carbon-copy of her original face, and as her.. former.. husband was certainly not a force sensitive it would guarantee that any accidental appearances wouldn't give her away to him. As much as she knew she loved the man, she didn't want to turn his life upside down - again - by revealing she was alive and well after he'd moved on and remarried. Her children, all of whom she last knew to be sensitive to the force, would be another issue but she'd resolve that by simply keeping herself away from places they might frequent.

Being that the likelihood of being recognized on Balmorra, the site of an invasion that she had participated entirely masked by darkness and - later in the duel - with a ring of fire between her and any potential onlookers, was nearly nil, Silara hadn't bothered to pull her hood up from her shoulders over her face during her twilight walk. However, as she was walking, Silara momentarily stepped into the line of sight of a much younger woman, someone that sent small ripples through the force like a pebble in a pond, and her intuition told her that her assumptions were likely far too lax. Everything in her told her not to turn her face, not to steal a glance at the approaching woman, not to give the stranger even a glimpse of her face, but curiosity and paranoia took the best of her.

Though she continued to walk with the same pace, there was a momentary hesitation in her step as she turned her chin to place her gaze on [member="Aria Vale"]. She couldn't recognize her, but then she'd been dead for nearly ten years so that wasn't exactly unexpected. The entirety of her profile was temporary lit up by a hanging light before she jerked her head away and stared forward, unblinking, and continued walking with an almost renewed vigor, waiting for tell-tale signs of force-fueled precognitive worry to kick in. It probably didn't help that two curve-hilt sabers dangled at her hips, nearly identical in appearance to the two curve-hilt sabers she'd utilized when dueling the Jedi Grand Master on this very planet in the past.
 
In a moment, Aria was gone from the outside of her starship and was suddenly everywhere, flitting from place to place in her mind's eye as she mapped out the optimum starting point for adventure. It was funny how hard it was to pinpoint excitement when you were actually looking for it - and this was no exception. From this new perspective, every interesting or exciting place seemed somehow much more dull. There was the Sith stronghold she had fought in upon her first visit to the planet, but it was likely abandoned and even if it weren't, she wasn't so desperate for a thrill that she would just walk into a military Sith building and hope the guard was feeling generous.

Aria blinked, returning to real life in an instant, and started as glaring eyes met her own. It was a woman, a woman she had never seen before, and a woman who was now averting her gaze rapidly as she began to hurry off. That look - it would have simply been but a curious glance had it not been for the quietly simmering rage that her eyes held. She knew those eyes - everyone in the galaxy knew the eyes of one corrupted by the Dark Side. Not by the colour, but by the harsh emotion and deadly intentions that the colour could only hint at. That one stare had chilled her blood, and yet she somehow felt the need to know more.

And now the woman was off at a too-quick pace, saber hilts swinging at her waist. The saber hilts. She was a Shadow - it was her job to be able to analyse at a glance, and the curved sabers told her enough. Her hand went to her own saber as she tried to think where it was that she would have seen hilts like those, why they would have any meaning: if she was as deadly as she looked, then from a textbook, most likely. But didn't most books refer to events of the past? The woman didn't even look that old.
Darth, Darth, Darth... Aria couldn't think who she was for the life of her. It was ridiculous - likely one of the only Jedi to invest so much time in researching the history of the Sith, and when it really came down to it the facts were words on a page, they meant nothing. The process of elimination only took her so far before she was left with a complicated mess of words and letters that made her head hurt.

Then it hit her, just as the woman neared a corner, the sudden revelation instant and noticeable to anyone paying attention. A Sith Lord, dead a decade a go, just as famously twisted and deadly as every Sith was, perhaps more so. But more importantly, dead a decade ago. Aria had never encountered a ghost, but she really looked very alive. It was possible without a doubt - she had seen masses of corpses lifted from the ashes and turned into an army, which hadn't been a pleasant thing to fight against and a resurrected Sith Lord would be even worse. But how? By whom? And why?

Too many questions for someone such as herself to answer. Connor would know, surely. And if not Connor, then another Master. She was just a Jedi on vacation; she was the last person who was fit to go up against a Sith Lord.

[member="Darth Vitium"]
 
It wasn't the expression on [member="Aria Vale"]'s face that gave away the recognition of threat, it wasn't even the precognitive tremor at the back of her head telling her an enemy with a means to inflict harm on her had reached for a weapon that triggered her flight-or-fight response. It, quite possibly, was a paranoia of her return being made widely known that caused her to stop mid-stride, that caused her to pivot on a foot that had already been extended to take a step with. No, it was that she'd felt the skin-pricking awareness that the Jedi had reached for a weapon, then it was the lack of an assault - possibly hesitation, and then it was the expression evident on that young woman's face, that epiphany of who she might be - though she doubted that the Jedi could put a name to her face - which had completely altered the course of the rest of the day for the two of them.

Had the Jedi not reached for her saber, had she simply remained ignorant to the Sith's identity or even existence, it was very likely that Silara never would have stopped, never would have turned, and never would have settled on a fight rather than a flight. While one Jedi that might not even know her was certainly not a problem, it was when they alerted others of her - told them of her appearance - that the trouble began. Sooner or later everyone across the galaxy that had known Silara to have died on Ziost would be made aware of her return, and people whom she would have rather resented her for leaving them too soon would end up hating her for coming back but not returning to them. An objective observer might have called it fear, an objective observer might have been correct - but an objective observer would have likely not survived the kind of fear an animal backed into a corner might exhibit.

A hood slid back, as if of its own design, and revealed a pale woman, possibly appearing in her mid-to-late thirties, with red hair that gathered around her shoulders. Orange-red eyes glinted with indirect lighting of the hanging street light, lips pressed thin, and though she simply continued walking in a new direction - towards the Jedi that had been walking towards her before, but parallel in placement - even a youngling would have realized the menace that all but radiated from her cloaked form. Two slender hands synchronously reached down to her hips - her gaze staring forward and straight ahead, never looking directly at the Jedi - for the twin dueling sabers that hung loosely from her hips. No words were given, no warnings made. Like a snake before the lunge, Silara simply moved on towards her prey.
 
Her mind was made up: the safest course of action would be to inform the Masters of the Order that a dead Sith had been resurrected, and let them take due action. She might even score some points among their ranks for doing so; there was really no other way to do it.

So, her ship was just a few minutes away, and then she could...Aria stopped in her tracks as the impending sense of being followed crept up on her. That was when she realised that in what was almost a subconscious trigger, she had unclipped her saber hilt from where it rested on her leg and was holding it as though preparing to ignite - and what it would say to the other woman. Uncertain of the safest way to react, Aria slowly shifted, starting again as the Sith, face exposed in all its deadly glory, stood less than a metre away and coming closer rapidly with activated blades.

Well, she had wanted excitement, and here it was.

Aria brought her saber up, the snap-hiss activation coming with a split-second delay that almost cost her her life. Taking a hasty step back and hurriedly blocking the twin sabers, she sucked in a breath, trying to get her mind working straight again. Why were Sith never without their sabers? A hand-to-hand duel, and she would have been right in her element. Sabers she was alright with, but that wouldn't be enough. That wouldn't be anywhere near enough.

Her mind raced as she took a step forward, trying to push back the blade that was locked against her own. Be unpredictable, she told herself. Use her skill to greaten your own. That was what it was, wasn't it? Aria feinted bringing her saber to the other woman's side, gathering energy and at the last second taking one hand off the hilt of her saber, delivering a powerful Force-push that would hopefully give her a few seconds before she could get back up to create a shield - the barrier would be patched, however, with her saber arm being more vulnerable to attack, and the entire shield could likely be broken with enough power.

[member="Darth Vitium"]
 
Two lightsabers sprang to life, splitting the air with the sound of plasma ripping through it, and they clashed against a single saber that sought to defend its wielder from the jaws of death that chased her. Her prey stepped back, retreated from the source of conflict, as she expected - no Jedi ever willingly stepped into danger with the courage to fight against it. It was almost like looking into the past, back when she was a Sith lord that carried the will of the former Dark Lord on her shoulders as the Voice of the One Sith. She saw the face of a violet-eyed Jedi Grandmaster in the eyes of the younger woman, she saw the defiance that had been a thorn in her side for so long - but no longer.

A forward step from the Jedi brought pressure against the hands of the Sith Lord as she pushed her own blade against Silara's before she enacted a typical application of the style known as Niman - a feint that sought to act as a distraction for a force push. But it wasn't the style she was used to - it wasn't remotely aggressive. Silara allowed the push to follow through, though she only staggered back with it rather than tumbled back as she might have it had truly caught her off guard, when the Jedi called up a barrier of the force. There was no aggression, no attempt to exploit Silara's opening formed by the push, which only served to speak volumes of the Jedi's inexperience, or perhaps naivete.

"To which order do you belong?" She asked, her voice little more than a hiss, as she corrected her stance, not quite prepared to lash out again just yet. The Jedi was inexperienced, perhaps even unskilled, which would supply her with plenty of room to simply push her around in order to get what information she wanted without exerting herself too greatly. "Is Corvus Raaf still alive?" It was a question that had little relevance to the reason she had attacked the Jedi in the first place, but it was a question she wanted to have answered nonetheless. A living Raaf meant a target for her revenge - if she was dead than it would mean a return directly to her vision of how the galaxy ought to be run.

[member="Aria Vale"]
 
The moment of satisfaction as the woman had to move backwards with the push was replaced with a sense of confusion when the Sith hissed out a question as she shifted her stance. Corvus Raaf? Aria was fairly certain she had heard the name somewhere, though it held no meaning to her, and such was visible on her face for a quick moment. Were Aria less readable and the Sith more so, she would have feigned knowledge and given whichever answer she'd felt would be least likely to result in her imminent death. As it was, she couldn't convince the Sith to leave her through knowing about Corvus Raaf, but if she allowed a fight to resume then it was only a matter of time before the other woman was victorious, so she would have to hold her attention through words.

"I'm not answering your questions," Aria said firmly; it sounded better than the 'I don't know' that her answer disguised. To the first question, the answer held little debate; hardly any Jedi operated outside of the Silver Jedi Order, at least that she knew of, but she knew how the psychology of how such situations worked: once you were answering their questions, it became easier for the one asking to get what they wanted. Likely she would tell the woman whatever she wanted to know once she was in considerably more pain; but she was trying to keep the focus off causing Aria pain for as long as she could. It would do her no good to voice the second thought.

"Who are you?" Aria asked. Her lightsaber was still up; the Sith was not attacking but she had not backed down; Aria would do the same. Her voice held genuine curiosity and uncertainty - though the woman's sabers certainly did something to stir up a memory of something she'd read, Aria knew only that she was facing a Sith Lord who had been resurrected at some point since her death some years ago. Who she was, what name she went by, why she was no longer dead, Aria had no idea of, so rather than struggle through an interrogation she would bring the focus to the Sith opposing her.
 
A hissing sigh escaped from the lips of the Sith lord, her eyes held on the Jedi if only not to allow an eyeroll to distract her. It was almost too frustrating that both Corvus and this Jedi were so alike. If she wasn't useful for information then there would have been no hesitation in the master of Makashi to have eviscerated her where she stood. But a needless death that served no further purpose than to remain away from the attention of the Jedi Order - or whichever branch or sister-order that this woman belonged to - was both pointless and detrimental to her efforts in obtaining more intelligence about the current state of galactic affairs. On the other hand this whelp was making it exceedingly difficult to justify not allowing the irritation of her refusal to cooperate get the best of her.

But, amidst this childish play of words, it was obvious that she - the Jedi - did not have the confidence to outright duel her in saber combat, likely uncertain of what skills the Sith might employ and possibly even more pragmatic than the rest of her litter, which certainly earned an ounce of respect from Silara in that she was not as naive or arrogant as the rest of the Jedi that she'd fought against. 'The force will guide me through this dark time' or 'the force will protect me from your darkness' were common phrases she'd heard from the zealots that had filled the ranks of the Jedi Order during the heyday of the Galactic Republic, an audacity that even their final Grandmaster had not been innocent of. This one, at least, was either silent in her naivete or wise enough to choose her words, and actions, carefully. If not for the foolish choice in affiliation with an outdated and cancer-ridden order it would have been an admirable trait that would have been suitable in any apprentice - or, she supposed, padawan.

And then the question that likely should have preceded the response that she'd given - "Who are you?" That took away some of the frustration, if only because the Jedi was trying to turn the questioning on the Sith. Manipulative word choice was always a go-to for Silara, and was how she'd caused many Jedi to doubt their allegiance to the brighter side of the force and even seduce others to the dark side. She'd play the game with the Jedi for now, if only to make her feel in control and loosen her guard, but that didn't mean she was going to hold back on the information like the Jedi had. "I have been known by many names, Jedi," She began, putting extra effort into her emphasis of the word Jedi, as if it left a sour taste on her tongue. "The galaxy knew me by my role rather than my name as the Voice of the Dark Lord of the One Sith - and the Sith knew me as Darth Vitium, Empress of the Empress Teta System during my tenure with the One Sith." Silara explained, lowering her left saber slightly as she slid her right foot forwards by a centimeter or two.

"But who I am is hardly relevant, isn't it? You should be wondering why I want to know what I'm asking - and should be aware that the only reason you're still breathing is because I want an answer."

"And I will have answers." The Sith Lord hissed, suddenly sliding her right foot back as her left hand - and, by extension, her saber - was pushed forward with a jab at her midsection meant to keep the Jedi on her toes. "But who are you?"

[member="Aria Vale"]
 
So the woman had a name. Darth...Vitium? The name struck a chord somewhere, but she definitely knew nothing about the Sith that would hold any meaning at the present moment. And she had been with the One Sith before they had fallen - the voice something or other, she had said. So a woman of importance, she could assume. Which led Aria making what could be called an educated guess - that she was powerful, more so than Aria would have liked in a woman holding twin sabers at her. Even more reason to try and keep the other woman's sabers lowered. It was essential, Aria was quickly coming to realise, that their sparring remained almost entirely verbal if she wanted to survive. Though, as always, she felt uncomfortable exchanging words with a Sith, crossing blades would be a much less comfortable route to take, and one would leave her much more liable to make her escape before the danger was too great.

Then Aria stepped back hastily as the woman - Vitium - jabbed at her middle, demanding to know who she was. Well, fine. If she insisted.

"Fine, have your answers. My name will hold little meaning to you anyway." Of course, though, as Aria knew, names had power. Once a name could be put to a face, the face became easier to find and easier to hurt. And she was as ever aware that once she began to answer the questions, it became harder to stop, but if she had to sacrifice some of the power to avoid a lightsaber through the heart, she'd manage.

"My name is Aria Vale, of the Silver Jedi. I do not know who Corvus Raaf is."

She chose her words carefully, wanting to appease the Sith woman while leaving no room for further discussion or aggravation. As much as she wanted to evade her questions, using tricky wording to throw the woman off, Aria was not stupid: the woman was a Sith. She would see through her mindgames with no difficulty, and when she did she would no doubt be irritated - and want to make that irritation clear to Aria. No matter how vastly Sith differed in persona, Aria had a fairly clear idea of how they behaved, how their minds worked. Just as Jedi were famed for their staunch and monastic reserve, Sith were depicted galaxy-wide as twisted, corrupted; angry and full of violence. True, she had met Sith who were more civil in their approach to life - Force knew she wouldn't have minded running into one of those instead of this sinister and aggressive Darth Vitium - but Sith were Sith; she had been taught as much since birth. Her regard of the Dark Side could only change so much, and this woman, who embodied the persona that made Aria fear the Darkness, was doing little to help that along.

[member="Darth Vitium"]
 
Where Aria moved to evade the jab, Silara merely kept herself where she was. There was no reason to pursue a follow-up to the strike, which was only intended to reinforce her intimidation and push the Jedi into talking, Although it would have been fairly easy to have simply disarmed the Jedi, maybe by removing her hands, and then have tortured her into giving her the information that she wanted, it was so much more fun to make these neophyte Jedi willingly give in to her. She'd done it countless times in the past, one of the few Sith that had been responsible for the massive 'turning' the Jedi Order of the Galactic Republic had experienced during their losing war against the One Sith, and it was never without its enjoyment and benefits. She doubted this Jedi was of the mindset that was ready to be turned to the dark side just yet, but she could plant those seeds of doubt while fishing for the information she wanted, and perhaps still keep herself from being recognized - the fact that the Jedi hadn't made the connection between Darth Vitium and Silara Kuhn was good, though considering the response to Corvus's name she wouldn't have been surprised if the Jedi had simply been ignorant to the war between the Jedi and Sith a decade prior.

It mattered little, however, because there was still so much more to learn - and even more to teach. As a member of the Silver Jedi then it was clear that this Aria Vale was a part of the group that had splintered from the original Jedi Order of the Galactic Republic in an effort to flee from the encroachment of the far superior Sith that sprung from Prakith and spread through Coruscant and Teta. It wouldn't even surprise her if Aria didn't realize that the aforementioned title of Voice to the Dark Lord meant she was effectively second only to the Dark Lord - while being equal to her peers, the other voices - in terms of power and influence during her time within the Sith hierarchy. The fact that fear was not yet rolling off of the young Jedi was telling enough regarding that. "I suppose Corvus Raaf must no longer be the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, then." She quipped, though paused for a moment to think on that revelation. Considering the Galactic Republic was effectively dead, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume the same of the Jedi Order. A pleasant thought, that. "And I've never heard of you, though I suppose you probably could say the same of me if you don't know who Raaf is." Silara added as she took half a step towards her.

The Sith Lord kept herself from lashing out with another strike, at least for the time being, being rather content with civil discourse rather than maiming some young woman with a future that was ripe for the shaping. "I don't suppose you'd be open to explain why you chose to join the Silvers, though. I can only assume, by your hasty retreat from this little show of blades, that it has something to do with their frightened perception of anyone outside of their order that wishes them harm." She said, rather out of the blue. As the Jedi had made it clear that she didn't know much about the specifics of the Jedi she wanted dead, which she now assumed she - Corvus - probably was, she supposed it wouldn't hurt to poke around the little mind of the maturing Jedi. Plant a few seeds of doubt now and they might grow and blossom into flowering distrust. "I don't suppose your betters explained to you that fear is just as much a motivation to fall to the dark side as pride and anger - and considering the nature of your order, I doubt they told you much else aside from how to look like a real Jedi." The Sith continued, picturing a Jedi master that had tried to stop her from retrieving a Sith holocron some decade or so ago - Connor Harrison - that had so easily been pushed to the dark side through mere wordplay.

[member="Aria Vale"]
 
The Sith woman did not continue her attacks, and so Aria moved her foot back to return to where she had stood. She remained with a neutral and passive expression, nothing neither fearful nor aggressive in the way she held herself, though her mind was racing with anxious panic and she was certain that the Sith knew it. That Darth Vitium did not believe in mindless violence was perhaps an immediate comfort but also greatened Aria's fear of eventually being shown what the woman would be like when she chose, with method and precision and control, to hurt her in one way or another.
Lucky then that her answers had been satisfactory, that all demonstrations of power were being put on hold and that at least for now, Aria could remain unharmed. She was no less displeased about telling the Sith everything she wanted to know, but even as a firmly devout Jedi who knew she would lay down her life to protect the galaxy, this did not yet seem to be of that danger level. Would she give Vitium information that could potentially be deadly to the Jedi and the galaxy at large, to avoid provoking the Sith into resuming their duel? Aria desperately hoped that the woman would find herself content with the answers provided before it reached that stage.

Until the information requested became that dangerous to reveal, however - well, at least when such became clear to Aria - the Echani would abide to giving Vitium whatever she wanted. Her name at least had evidently meant little to the Sith, though now that she had it, were their encounter to escalate Aria became much more easily hunted. And that Corvus Raaf had apparently once been Grandmaster came as more of a surprise, though it offered something in way of explanation as to why it was she that the woman had immediately asked of, why upon encountering a Jedi, enquiring about Raaf had been the first priority. If the Sith had been as high up among the Sith as the ostentatious title suggested, it made sense that whoever had been Grandmaster at that time would be high on her to-do list.
"That's correct," Aria said simply in response to the offered premise, hoping that confirming the assumption would once more appease the woman and prevent further attack. The other woman took a step forward, and though Aria's mind was flooded with thought as to what that could mean, she neither backed up nor did anything to further close the gap between them.

Then, out of nowhere, Vitium asked about what had brought Aria to join the Silver Jedi, and her eyes narrowed as her mind raced to confirm that the Sith's wording had implied her a coward. Likely the Sith was aware that had Aria thought she could leave their 'show of blades' alive, she would have gladly seen the fight through to the end and enjoyed every second of it. Likely it was simply the Sith being a Sith, enjoying her power to say what she wanted without Aria having the breathing room to react as she would have liked. Or maybe she genuinely thought Aria was cowardly for retreating as she had - it made no difference. Aria held no desire to die that day if she could help it.
"I chose to join out of desire to follow in my parents' footsteps," was the result Aria offered. Her answer was about as vague as was possible, but leaving it broad made it easier to avoid implying the Jedi better than the Sith or to incite further interrogation.
"We do learn that fear makes one liable to the Dark Side, yes - in this case though, a lack of it would have killed me," she continued, respectfully inclining her head towards the woman to support her words.

[member="Darth Vitium"]
 
Like a child that had the audacity to speak to an adult, while fully ignorant, as though they knew more than they, Aria spoke of her order and of her justification for her weakness as though she was more knowledgeable on the subject than she. It was laughable at best, to tell the woman that literally fed on those darker emotions - fear, anger, and all the rest - that any presence of such feelings would prove beneficial if she were anything but a practitioner of the dark side. And her will to follow in the footsteps of her parents? She hadn't given much to go off of in regards to that, but it spoke of a blind trust of the order because of some illusions her parents must have caused her to form in her formative years. Misguided, lacking knowledge and wisdom, Aria was a victim of her own certainty. "Cowardice is never a desirable trait, not even with the likes of the pitiful Jedi." Vitium stated evenly, one saber deactivated with the flex of her left wrist. "Fear drives you to act like an animal, to lash out on impulse and delusion - or to cower from an opportunity that is presented to you. It is a gateway to the dark side, an irresistible call that will tug at your sleeve with every meeting until you find yourself at the gates of hate and rage." She explained as she took a step back, slipping the lightsaber that she had deactivated to the clasp resting at her left hip.

"Fear is something that comes from many things, many experiences, and sometimes it manifests itself in its most raw form - fear of the unknown." She said, beginning to circle the Jedi like a lion might stalk her prey. "Like your fear of experiencing anything outside of your order, your fear of not continuing a legacy your parents left for you to carry on your shoulders, and your fear of that which betrays your beliefs." The Sith lord continued. "Do not hide from your fears, Jedi, you must face them - conquer them - and only then will you be liberated. You see a woman with a lightsaber that has been dead for the last decade, someone from a generation before the last decade of weak Sith pretenders, and you see something you do not know or understand, that you are afraid to understand."

"And you would be right to be afraid, that you might begin to articulate the emotions and the feelings that the Jedi have stunted in you. And why wouldn't you wish to keep those feelings stunted, those which empower you and your communion with the force? After all, it would be only too easy for you to obtain power so naturally, to obtain what is rightfully yours not in spite of yourself but because of who you are and what you can become - what you can earn with your own worth." Silara added with a tone dripping of sarcasm. A quick twirl of her lightsaber led to it, too, being extinguished - though it remained firmly in the grasp of her right hand. "It pains me to see a young and gifted wielder of the force held back by blind tradition and rigid beliefs that originated over twenty thousand years ago - her growth slowed because her masters fear her potential for greatness. And we both know it is true - your masters preach that Jedi should not seek out knowledge, that they should not strive for perfection, that they should not grow 'too quickly' and throw aside their pride in their success. Perhaps you should ask yourself where your masters obtained their power, and why they might seek to suppress the future generations so that they remain where they are - at the top."

"Think, Aria, where you could be if you had nurtured your potential rather than squandered it on the teachings of an archaic order - if sought out a more powerful, more wise, people."

"You could have been a master of the force in your own right, not some squabbling apprentice or learning knight."

[member="Aria Vale"]
 
Aria's jaw clenched at the word pitiful, fingers tensed and tapping at the side of her leg, as was her habit when trying to restrain herself. Vitium's dismissal of both Aria and the Jedi at large as weak and spineless was aggravating to say the least, even with the reminder that such was likely her intention nagging at the back of her head. It was tempting, so tempting, to strike while the woman was a saber down and disprove her spinelessness, but even if a million improbabilities coincided to give her the victory, it was as far from Jedi-like as she could be, and if Aria couldn't be strong in the way that won duels, she would at least be strong in the way that stayed true to her alignment. Still, it was only the hiss of a deactivated saber that was a powerful enough reminder of how Aria could hope to survive the encounter; conform, lie low, bow her head and take whatever attacks of her person were thrown her way with a nod and a tight smile.

However, no matter how much more beneficial it would be to submit to the notion of her cowardice and play up her weakness, Aria was simply too vexed by now to accede fully and let Vitium sneer at her cravenness. A small part of her warned her that attempting to justify her retreat and gain a little respect from the Sith was a futile play, but it would appear that the Echani had underestimated the other woman's ability to antagonize her opponents.

"You needn't bring respective allegiances into this," she said quietly, her saber still activated but lowered to one side, twitching fingers ready for the possibility of being lured into a false sense of security. "You're a Sith Lord, you're at a Master level. I'm not. So, I won't pick a fight that I know I can't win, because there are more useful ways to die and more useful things to do while I'm still alive." Was such a tactic even effective? Aria was perhaps diminishing the view on her as a coward, but at the same time admitting to her novicehood. Of course, it probably wasn't hard to tell that she was less capable with the Force than Vitium was. Now Aria was trying to justify herself to herself - if the Sith was trying to disorient her, she was succeeding. She should've just kept her mouth shut; damn her wilfulness.

Then further reproach of the Jedi: it was difficult, for somebody who'd had as much of her life and ways determined by the desire to be one, to yield to the relentless galaxy-wide attack of the Order. That the Jedi were rigorous in shaping their Padawans was true, Aria wouldn't try to deny it, and the same was true of the Sith. What had instilled many debates - both for Aria and throughout history - was whether the latter's heavily different approach to such things as fear and pain made them more powerful by nature. Then again, the Jedi arguably didn't require power to achieve their goals, at least not in the brute sense. It was a Jedi's aim to defend the galaxy from evil; to save and improve lives. What exactly the aim of the Sith was, Aria was unclear on the matter, but certainly it was them, always, who attacked, at least in a perfect representation of each brethren: the Sith attacked and the Jedi defended. A shield, in itself, held less power than a sword; but this was irrelevant because each held a different purpose and neither achieved it with less strength for being what they were.

"Sith are supposed to use their emotions as weapons, right? To control them, use them accordingly. The same is true of the Jedi, but our different aims mean that we control them in different ways. My greatness is not repressed, my potential is nurtured no less for being nurtured in a different manner. One day, perhaps, I will be made a Jedi Master, and -" Aria broke off, realising that such a train of thought would have brought the subject back to their duel: that when that day came if the Sith had drawn sabers on her, Aria would have fought, in the knowledge that she stood a chance at survival. Bad way to spin the conversation. "And I won't be less powerful for serving the light, only for having done so for less time. Even those tied to the Dark Side are squabbling Apprentices and learning Knights before they're Masters."

What was she doing? What was the point in inciting argument over both sides of the Force and their respective worth? Aria had submitted without even realising; engaged, let her voice rise even if only by a notch, argued where it would have been safer to nod until she could slink away. Perhaps it was to be expected and she could be held to little blame, but still she had done it wrong where she should have done it right. Stupid twisted Sith lady and her stupid twisted mindgames: she was too far in now to retreat.

[member="Darth Vitium"]
 
It was a pity that Aria was unfamiliar with Silara - with Vitium. It had been almost a lifetime, now, since she had been able to so methodically play with her prey before she lunged in to put down a foe. What had set her aside from the dregs of the hundreds upon thousands of acolytes in the One Sith during her early years was not just her skill with a lightsaber, and it was most certainly not her natural inclination to learn and the ability to comprehend that knowledge - no, it was because of her cunning, her resourcefulness, and her manipulative nature. If the Jedi had the time and was without distraction - if she was removed from the situation and could see what was going on from an outside perspective, or perhaps from Silara's own - then perhaps Aria would have recognized the way that the Sith lord had led her like a horse to water by challenging her learned perspectives of opposing sides of the force - first by associating with the tried-and-true stereotype, and then slowly showing a side that made sense, that resonated with her, and triggered that self-doubt. It was a mind game, plain and simple, with every word carefully chosen based on a reaction the Jedi had prior in order to make her arrive at a decision which she - Silara - wanted her to arrive at.

Of course she couldn't outright trick the Jedi into becoming a Sith, or even falling to the dark side, right on the spot - that would require more force and application of the force itself than subtle manipulation. Even now, as she became conscious of playing into the Sith Lord's hands by arguing a moot point, or by conceding here, or omitting details there, the only path that she followed was a trail that Silara herself had set for her. It tickled her, in a way, to know that even after becoming a mother for the better part of two decades that she was still just as good - or nearly so - at doing what she had once done best so long ago. And, just like almost every other Jedi-turned-Sith, when it finally came time to question the real difference between Jedi and Sith, Aria responded with an explanation that set the two apart only because of some ignorant double-standard. The two utilized their emotions, a path to the dark side, but the Jedi could do so only because they followed a dogmatic belief that, as Silara had pointed out only moments before, was entirely hypocritical and selfish. They were not servants of good will and good intention, they were servants to whatever their leadership thought or said was "right" at the time. And, like with all dogmatic orders, the Jedi suppressed the training and amount of knowledge that the apprentices and knights were given in order to ensure that they - the masters - remained in their positions of power for as long as possible.

Almost entirely like a Sith might, if not for the fact of the matter being that at the very least the Sith made it obvious that such was the intention rather than lying about it and acting like a demagogue. "Yes, we all start at the bottom and arrive at the top, Jedi, but the difference is how we raise our apprentices." She responded, a cheshire grin apparent on her face whilst she continued to circle her. "The Sith train their apprentices with the same approach that any parent has for their child - that they would someday replace them in this galaxy and be better, more knowledgeable, wise, and powerful than they. Someday I will have an apprentice who will learn everything I have ever learned, who will teach an apprentice everything they have ever learned, and so on and so forth - a cycle that only serves to benefit the future generation and make them more fit for survival." Silara explained, though her point was not yet made.

"With every passing generation, every pair of Master and Apprentice, they grow more powerful, they become more wise and knowledgeable, than the last. This means that even though I might be a master of the Dark Side of the force, my apprentice will be even greater than I so long as they live up to their potential." A brief pause followed as she let that sink in. This was generally where others, in the past, had questioned her point - why it mattered - and tried to rub in how that view was wrong. "Unfortunately, the very approach of the Jedi is to stifle growth - to make sure each generation is less capable than they so that their position might be cemented longer than the last. And, as a consequence, each generation of Jedi grows weaker and weaker - they know less, obtain far less wisdom, and simply fail to live up to their predecessors. In a nutshell, they Jedi way is to weaken the galaxy by suppressing information and refusing proper training to their force adepts. At your age I was already being taught the intricacies of Sith magic, something I doubt you can even grasp because of how restricted your access to knowledge is." She said. A sigh and another pause followed, her expression hinting towards another monologue. Truly it appeared that she - the Sith Lord in this role reversal between Jedi and Sith - pitied the younger Jedi. Another manipulative act, certainly, in order to psychologically push the Jedi further towards her school of thought. Already their conversation had made a complete one-eighty from the subject of their identities, and from the status of the original Jedi Order, to a scrutiny of Aria's actual validity as a true Jedi - and, to further pour salt in that wound, whether being a Jedi was actually good or right.

Had the Jedi never brought up her parents, perhaps the conversation might have ended then and resulted in a quick defeat. But such intimate knowledge of her foe could not be so easily passed up, and it opened up an opportunity to push this Jedi to the breaking point - though she would only pull those strings over a comfortable length of time, as to make Aria believe it was her own decision.

"But to defend such a hypocrisy? To willingly submit yourself to such a perverse treatment, to be bent over the proverbial table and allow them to suppress your rights as a living being? I can only applaud your masters for prodding you along until you believed your own captors had your best interests at heart - that they had anyone's best interest at heart except their own. Bravo to the masterminds of a millennia of deceit, for even such a gifted and astute young spark as yourself might have been played like an instrument and fooled into simply falling in line."

Emphasis on false compassion was always necessary, especially when dealing with such ardent supporters of their beliefs, to slowly sway them over not by coaxing them to the dark side, but to push them so far into the light that the moment they realize any semblance of a fallacy in their order they would retreat to the dark for comfort in disillusionment. A game like no other, the "turning" of Padawans and even Jedi Masters was a favorite past-time to her. And then the difficult part came, to inflict a defeat so devastating that their gap in power was obvious but to ensure that it did not create too traumatizing an experience. Her empty hand, the left, gestured to the Jedi as though she were merely making an emphasis that she was speaking of Aria only to release a torrent of lightning from her fingertips that crackled like thunder. There was no way she would allow the Jedi to leave unscathed, to let her escape without having first a taste of the dark side of the force, and though the lightning was withholding lethal force - simply to cause pain, to put the Jedi down to the ground - it was not without purpose. It was common knowledge among Sith, and perhaps among some upper echelons of Jedi, that in order to perform certain dark arts that they must first experience them first-hand. Such, generally, was the case with Sith lightning, with drain essence, and while someone so staunchly in the light - as this Jedi might believe herself to be - to grant them that experience, that knowledge of exactly how to tap into the force that way, was often times too tempting for them to resist in replicating.

It was stated many times by Jedi: exposure to the dark side in any way was ample temptation to seduce one to fall. Exposure via force lightning, or even continued presence with a Sith lord steeped in the dark side, was no different.

[member="Aria Vale"]
 
Trying to guess at Vitium's intentions had Aria twisted up in knots; trying to retain any position of strength - or at least, trying not to succumb so totally and pathetically to the place of weakness she was being cornered into - was wearing her down fast. She was running out of ways to defend the Jedi without insulting her adversary and her people, or losing her temper. It was hard to decide which alternative would fare better for her, but she had a feeling that neither would result favourably. The safest route would, of course, be to shut up and let the Sith monologue away about the faults of the Jedi Order. Aria, on the other hand, had proven several times in this encounter alone that her concern to safety was nowhere near great enough for her own good. Debating, while confusing and supremely difficult, delayed sparring of the more physical type without Aria having to fully sacrifice whatever egotistic sense of power it was that she was trying to preseve. Attacking the Jedi way seemed to come much more easily to Sith than attacking the Sith way did to Jedi, though Aria remained insistent that this had less to do with the logical soundness of their respective principles than with...something else. Simply pleading that the Sith were, practically by law, the bad guys, didn't have the same effect as the declarations of the Jedi's cowardice that the Sith in question went for in such debates.

Fine then, let the Sith assert her state as the predator: Aria would remain the prey until she could offer a more purposeful input. Thus, she stayed silent and let her irritation show only in the slight impatient look on her otherwise serene and impassive expression as Darth Vitium kept at it with a definite air of smugness that irritated her to no end. Keeping the Sith happy was advantageous, perhaps, but she would be waiting until the very end of their encounter to reap its benefits - if she managed to keep it up that far into the foreseeable future, which at the rate she was going was unlikely. And then there remained the potential for Vitium to go ahead and exact whatever it was she planned to exact regardless of what Aria did to make herself less of a target, but it was more helpful to Aria's mentality to try and plan her actions with even a single positive possible outcome in mind as opposed to the much more probable none.

But she was so annoying, Aria argued, what difference did it make if the annoyance was deliberate or not? When it came the right moment, Aria would be ready with some spectacular reply or another - perhaps she could even throw in some cutting but not outright insulting remark simply to make a point. If she played it right, she could help her cause, but the woman had gotten so successfully under her skin that Aria's focus was now totally off leaving Balmorra in one piece. She had been bound to trip up and remind Vitium of why they were facing off at some point. Better she get some satisfaction out of it instead of resigning herself to be irritated for the duration of their chat - she couldn't expect it to be a fun experience on the whole anyway. Maybe the Sith was toying with her, playing games; what did it matter? Aria could play too.

And so Aria gave up trying to conceal her mood, instead adapting a subtly bored stance as she waited for the Sith to leave a gap in her arguments where Aria could attempt to do something about Vitium's superior demeanor. She would have to be careful: if she was going to try and undercut her words, she would do it well. For that reason, she stayed patient. When it was implied that power was lost as it passed through generations of trainee Jedi where it was gained in the Sith's training cycle, she withheld from the weak counter of that's not true. It wasn't, of course, but it wasn't a useful argument either. When Vitium stated that Aria was so oppressed in her Lightsidedness that she could have no comprehension of how Sith magic work, Aria refrained from telling her that she'd done plenty of research into the Sith, not because she hadn't but because it was an excuse to attack the true nature of Aria's alignment.

Finally she saw her opening. "And Sith don't do the same?" she said, in response to the idea that Jedi suppressed those they trained. Her tone made it clear that the statement was rhetorical; she was certain they both knew the answer. "Your -"

Her words stuck in her throat as a crackling wave of lightning came for her. In her determination to pick apart Vitium's words, she had dropped her guard and failed to anticipate attack; but the realisation of her mistake came too late.

One fault of the Jedi that Aria couldn't deny; with all their talk of being broken, of falling to the Dark Side or becoming weaker through attachment, they didn't do an awful lot to prepare their apprentices for physical pain. Aria fancied herself rather able to take a hit, owing to her martial arts training - force-lightning, on the other hand, she had no experience with. And there was no other way to put it: it hurt. A lot. She cried out as the lightning struck her, no longer preoccupied with the possibility that it made her look weak - in fact, most of her brain had decided that it had nothing better to do than to convince her body that the lightning hurt even more than it already did. She lacked both the strength and the focus to think of a way out; she could do little more than sink to her knees as she tried to outlast the Sith.

[member="Darth Vitium"]
 
As the Jedi might have begun to realize, a game of words could only reach so far - sometimes it took experience to push someone to the edge. The odor of ozone permeated the heated air as the lightning which erupted from the tips of her fingers arced into the body of the Jedi. Many Dark Jedi and Sith might consider her strength weak because the electricity that was sent coursing through the veins of the young woman did not immediately rob her of her life, but it was the level of control she held over her own strength that Silara believed set her above the rest, that made her a true master of the force and not simply someone that had accrued great power and knowledge through greed and luck alone. "We do not suppress our acolytes, Jedi." Came the voice of the Sith lord without ever moving her lips. Telepathy was indeed an advantageous skill to have in own's repertoire, especially when engaging with someone who lacked the mental faculties to block out such words.

She watched Aria with unabashed enjoyment plastered on her face while she cried out in pain, falling to her knees like so many before her - though she did silently respect her for not begging for a mercy she would not receive. The woman slowly began to walk towards the fallen Jedi with slow, deliberate, steps. "I was subjected to this pain for three days - morning and night - until I could muster the strength to fight back." Silara hissed, her gaze a glare that emphasized the unspoken insult regarding the way the Jedi raised their youths. "Fourteen years old and subjected to every pain and torture imaginable - and not for the sake of weakening me, Jedi." She elaborated, flexing the muscles in her wrist to let off a slightly more intense stream of lightning to add to the pain she presumed was nearly unbearable. "I can feed from the pain, I can harness my rage, and turn it back against my enemies - all because I was subjected to this until I could bear the pain. And you, Jedi? You fall to your knees at an age where I was killing your kind on the fields of war!" Vitium explained, berating Aria for her weakness.

"If you want to live, Jedi, beg for mercy."

"Or fight back."

Two choices she offered to the Jedi, to submit to Silara's will or to succumb to the pain and the frustration and lash out - to fall to the dark side or willingly subject herself to its control. Not exactly the most subtle method of temptation, but her only other option - a third, unspoken, option - was to reject the Sith's offers and refuse to give in. Judging by the initial pain that Aria seemed to feel, and the immediate buckling of her knees hardly moments later, there was little reason for the Sith to believe her capable of resisting, but it was certainly a possibility that she would relish the chance to experience.

[member="Aria Vale"]
 
Perhaps unsurprisingly, it wasn't enough for Aria to hurt - it wasn't even enough that her pain was as clear to behold as it was. She hadn't really expected that she was being electrocuted simply for pleasure or to sate an urge, but that once Vitium was satisfied she'd hurt Aria enough she'd be left in a corner had more or less been the outcome most beneficial to her, and so she had automatically treated it as the default ending. But then, if not for the fun of it, Aria was being hurt with a purpose in mind: what purpose? Maybe she was being punished simply for being a Jedi, or for being weak, if Vitium saw the two as synonymous. Of course, in this instance, she was both - though in her mind the two were unrelated states of being - and such a fact being made indisputable through her inability to resist against the lightning attack was infuriating to say the least.

A hissing disagreement prodded at her thoughts; Aria gritted her teeth as the Sith's voice reached her mind. Had she been on her feet and had the words come from outside of her head, she would've countered the argument in a heartbeat - she was neither. However, the intrusion into her mind somewhat managed to break her stupor; having the words shoot through her concentration reminded her brain that there were things to focus on besides the pain of the lightning. The pain remained very painful still, but now dominated less of her thoughts.

More words - she wasn't even certain whether they'd come from inside her brain or not by now - belittling Aria because she didn't subject herself to torture as the Sith did. The point had been made; when compared by their resistance to pain, Jedi were weaklings, Aria had been told as much by just about everybody who didn't side with the Light, for as long as she'd been part of the Order. And - oh, ow, the lightning was worse. A lot worse. However purposeful the purpose was, Vitium was doing this far too gleefully.

And finally, she was presented with her options. Beg, fight, or die. The first she was too proud for; the second too weak; and the third she liked even less. Sith and their ultimatums. But if she didn't attempt one or the other, the decision would be made for her - and Aria felt she could safely say that Vitium would shed no tears over her death.

If she got out of here alive, she was so sending the Order after this damned Sith lord.

Again her concentration went to creating a shield. When not being struck with lightning her barriers were adequate at best, but the just do it mantra had been drilled into her for some time now, and so she would do it regardless of her chances of success. At first, the immense pain of the lightning blocked her mind, but after concentrating aggressively for long enough, mind conquered matter and enough of her brain was able to coherently function that if she attempted her defense, she stood at least a slim chance of achieving her goal. From there, she willed the Force to bend into a shield, determined that she succeed no matter the improbability. A single bolt of lightning was stopped in its path as Aria was able to shape a tiny barrier; the remaining torrent of electricity remained unaffected. Alright, good, that was a start. She tried fervently to broaden the shield's range, reasoning that even if she couldn't fully block the lightning she could reduce its effects enough that she could then lead into a different resolve.

But the shield refused to obey, and so far only a hand was safe from the attacking wave of lightning. To do and not to try was much easier in theory than it was in practice, no matter what she was repeatedly told; it was especially easier in theory than it was against a Sith Lord's lightning theatrics. Aria really didn't want to have to resort the alternative, but her pride was not so great as to die for. She was not yet at such a stage however, and so she desperately attempted to command her shield still. It was useless, and soon Vitium would get bored of her attempts to fight back and simply finish the job. That notion angered her - and the shield grew.

Aria could focus better now, but she wasn't safe yet. With the thin layer of energy acting as her shield, the pain had been reduced only a little and as was a recurring flaw of hers, the barrier had gaps. But now survival was unlikely instead of impossible, so Aria kept going. Her breathing was heavy and laboured from trying to support her shield through the lightning, but she was struggling gradually to her feet all the same. She wouldn't die like this. She refused to die like this.

[member="Darth Vitium"]
 
The struggle that the Jedi had immediately been placed in was, indeed, quite satisfying a sight for the Sith Lord. She was a sadist at times, taking pleasure in the sight of and the giving of pain and suffering, even if she didn't seek to inflict pain for the sake of pain. Like a child with a magnifying glass, sunlight burning an ant, Silara watched the Jedi squirm and her pained expression with an ecstasy that could only be matched by the emotions that fueled her connection to the dark side of the force. But just when she thought the Jedi was going to give in, to simply crumple and wait for it all to end, the force - like an ocean - rippled and made the activities of the Jedi known to her. A concentration - or a feeble attempt of such - was made on the girl's part, followed shortly thereafter by a small and meager barrier of the force that saved her hand from further damage before it began to spread like the surface of a bubble to protect herself further.

Truly admirable, to defy her by refusing both the spoken options and to defeat her expectations of silent protest. Though the Sith Lord had no desire to take the girl as her apprentice - the fit simply could not be made, much like two different pieces of a far larger puzzle - there was certainly a spark in her that garnered the Jedi her respect for being a better Jedi than the rest of the lot. That hadn't meant that she'd been a perfect paragon of their order, that she'd held fast and true to the light side of the force like some fastidious monk. She could feel the pride that compelled her, the Jedi, to reject the choice to beg for her life, and she could feel the anger at her belittling. That was good - it was something the Sith could nurture, could foster, and push her further.

"Such futility, struggling to stand and die as a martyr to a broken order." She said, choosing her words carefully - wanting the Jedi to try to prove her wrong, to make her frustration grow as it was now. In fact, the Jedi was nearly standing now, her barrier growing in strength as her anger flourished. Lightning still poured from her left hand, not ceasing simply because her challenge had been met, but that was no longer Vitium's main focus on the Jedi. Although many Sith fed on the dark side, and were fueled by their own emotions - anger, grief, fear, and others - and while others, still, could sometimes latch onto a handful of emotions of others in a similar way, Silara was born with a talent for such consumption that simply could not be placed so plainly with the rest. Like the ancient Vitiate of old, Silara could draw in power on the negative emotions that her foes held. But what she planned to do was different, still, from even that. Rather than seek to consume the essence of the dark side from within the Jedi, Silara instead performed the opposite - pushing her own dark feelings towards the Jedi in what could be aptly described as the opposite of draining the force from her.

She'd experienced this, once, on herself nearly a decade and a half past. An ancient witch had planted a sliver of her own consciousness in the Sith Lord, eventually encroaching on her mind, but Vitium held no need or want for a thrall and instead attempted to force a portion of her own power on the Jedi - she sought to widen the Jedi's anger, to forge a greater connection between her and the dark side of the force, while increasing her power by a noticeable margin so the correlation between the superiority of the dark side of the force and her success in creating a defense against a foe as mighty as a Sith lord, someone whom she doubtlessly felt infinitely superior to, could be made. It was a gamble, perhaps, that the Jedi might not be able to handle the sudden exposure to the dark side of the force in such a manner - or that, perhaps, she might realize what was occurring and vehemently try to fight the Sith Lord's attempt to make her fall.

[member="Aria Vale"]
 
Focus thrown and mentality distorted, Aria might have regained some control over her stance but she felt no closer to a position that felt even close to safety - that even pretended to be safety, as arguing philosophies at saber's length from a Sith Lord had. Minutes ago, she had been mildly uncertain of herself and irritated with the Sith's superiority; now she was frazzled from trying not to crumble beneath the pain as Vitium wanted her to - as she expected her to, no doubt. And she'd be right, in that only a small, indignant part of Aria's brain was forcing her to contradict the assumption whilst every bone in her body was pleading for the easy way out. In a way, it made more sense too. There would be time another day to become powerful enough to be revered - nobody would have any respect for the dead body she was so likely to become if she didn't succeed. But it was too late now to consider the benfits of grovelling: in fighting back, she might've shown that she wasn't the weakling she was supposed to be, but now gaining mercy through pity or contempt was no longer an option. Or maybe it was.

And Vitium seemed so determined that Aria fail. Stand and die as a martyr - what was that even supposed to mean? Was she implying that she'd die regardless of her reaction to the lightning? Was she spouting words for the sake of it? Aria didn't know, though she certainly cared - far too much of her concentration, in fact, was being put towards the possibility that the Sith intended to kill her at the end of the day. Perhaps there were worse fates than death, perhaps there wasn't death but the Force: it didn't change that unless you were Darth Vitium and showed up on Balmorra a decade after your death all of a sudden, dying was pretty permanent, pretty limiting, and to somebody as young and impressionable as Aria, something to very much be afraid of.

Then something odd happened. Aria felt pressure at her skull, just as she had when the Sith had invaded her mind, but there were no words, no pictures, no commands - Vitium was somehow just there. It felt like power, and also like rage, and like violence, but all pushed into her being suddenly, without thought as to how receptive Aria herself would be.

It was all so confusing. Aria felt overloaded, like a weight had been forced onto her shoulders; she felt strong, with power suddenly having been presented gift-wrapped before her; she felt defensive, because the power had come from the Sith and that, of course, made it bad; she felt totally and utterly bewildered. What was she supposed to do now? What did Vitium want her to do, what did Vitium expect her to do? Once Aria had that, she could try, perhaps, to choose how to continue by opposing the expectations and desires of the Sith, provided she still had the strength for such an option, which was becoming more unlikely with every passing moment. If Aria could just fail, if she could curl up into a ball and let the lightning course through her until it subsided or she became numb to it; if she wasn't certain that Vitium wouldn't simply accept the failure any more than Aria herself would, then she might have done it too. Perhaps it made her weak, but nobody cared to kill weaklings.

But she couldn't fail without consequence, and so Aria now had to process the power being forced into her mind and somehow find a favourable route. None were excellent, of course; she couldn't suppose that it would be, with a Sith Lord as her foe. Without even consciously trying, Aria could expand her shield through whatever sorcery it was that was pushing strength into her via Darth Vitium - the subconscious longing for the pain to diminish simply used what was at hand, and though Aria felt even less herself for it, she didn't have it in her to let the pain return simply so she could maintain her sense of self. However, though she hurt less for it, the dark and angry power that she was reluctantly feeding from was overwhelming, and not in the positive sense of the word.

What was one failure? Who, within the Sith or the Jedi or anywhere in the galaxy, truly had much to stake on whether Aria could hold her own against a Sith Lord? Judged her for it, valued or devalued her for it maybe, but life would go on, and with some luck so would her own: at the end of the day, would anybody suffer from her lack of success?

Unable to muster control over the impending sense of Darkness, Aria fell; her shield wavered, the pain returned. Let the Sith have her gloating victory. It didn't matter.

[member="Darth Vitium"]
 
Like an overexcited child with a new toy - or, perhaps more aptly, a new pet - Silara was far too engrossed satiating her curiosity of how much the Jedi could take, how much she could handle, and whether or not she could artificially bring the woman up to at least a comparable level to herself. And, like anyone with a narrow fixation and no care or compassion for the other being or object, Silara had not paid too much mind during her little experiment to see how the Jedi was actively holding up until she collapsed in what she could only assume was something similar to an overload of power. She, herself, had never experienced such a phenomena, but then she'd never been put in a situation like her. Of course she'd also preoccupied what little direct attention she gave to the Jedi's well-being with a rather confusing statement - she'd only said the first thing that came to mind in hopes that she'd push another button or something - which probably didn't help much at all.

The moment that shield fell was, or at least nearly, the moment that the Sith Lord relented her torrent of lightning. After all, a Jedi in their formative years living was better than a dead Jedi. "I had hoped for more - though I expected less." She grumbled, taking a step back as she contemplated her next course of action. She could simply kill the Jedi now, save herself the trouble of an incensed Silver Jedi Order and keep her identity safe for a while longer, or let her live and hope that the young woman would wake with the urge to enact retribution on such a thorough defeat. Letting her live would only cause her concern for when she wandered into areas of Silver Jedi influence - something she had no plan or want to do - whereas killing the girl would ruin her fun and eliminate the chance of perhaps converting a young woman to the way of the Sith. Much like with Connor Harrison, however, she had her doubts that she would ever be swayed to her perspective - but she had less of them than with someone so blinded by the light that he sometimes lashed out with anger and hate because of his lack of perspective.

After a moment's thought, and a second or two of hesitation, however, the Sith Lord decided the potential benefits of the Jedi living outweighed the benefits of her dead - deciding her identity did not matter too much in the long run, especially considering the plans she had for a resurgence of the Sith, while a potential addition to the Order was far more beneficial than something as selfish as keeping her existence a secret. In order to make certain that the Jedi did not wake and assume that the Sith had made some arbitrary decision to spare her, however, she opted to at least send her home as visibly used as possible. With a scowl and a sigh, Silara's left hand - the one that had previously been engaged with the tormenting of Aria - released a telekinetic push aimed at the girl, intending to hurl her a ways away, perhaps into a wall or a dumpster or something. The idea was to inflict a few minor injuries, maybe crack a rib, and not seem too incredibly nice and sparing - it would also help to make any claims of a Sith lord by a young Jedi all the more likely to be believed.

"Next time we meet, Jedi, things will be different."

[member="Aria Vale"]
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom