Hush

[Darth Ophidia]

Click-click-click
click-click-click
click-click-click.

The gold disk rolled from one knuckle, coming and going like the sun and the moon, as the Queen of Shadows observed the Acolytes at play in the courtyard below. She had been at the Sith Academy on Bastion for some time inspecting the future of the Sith. In some she found promise, in others only failure. Her eyes, burning coals in a face of pale ash, peered through thought, feeling, fear and hope.

This, she was none too sure about.

They were playing some sort of game, the rules to which she had not bothered to pick up on yet. By game, she meant it was fierce competition; exercise of body and exercising dominance upon one another through prowess. Some of them knew, some of them did not. There were others on the sideline, some cheering, some watching, some not paying it any mind at all.

The ball went through a hoop, yells and cheers. Palms were slapped in celebration.

Darth Ophidia leaned over to the tray placed by her side, with deft hands she poured boiled leaf juice of the most exquisite kind from a kettle into one of the small metal cups. The cup was warm to the touch as she picked up up and held it under her nose, the fragrance snaking up into her olfactory organs and teasing out the flavour of the drink to come. The coin stopped momentarily as she drank.

It was a warm day, too warm for most, the sun was high in the sky and the wind was shy. The ships in orbit shone like floating marble beacons of their great Empire. Yet, Darth Ophidia chose to peer into the hearts of these young souls.

Something was calling her, luring her in. Something close, but barely out of sight.

Yes, that.

 

[Darth Morrow]

Jane Lilley, the runt of a human in comparison to the many around her listened to the crowds cheering as the ball shot through the hoop. It was a rather calm day compared to many aside from the harsh sun shining down across the cracked ground.

It has been but a few weeks since she arrived, looked down upon metaphorically and literally by many of her compatriots and mentors, and it was growing tiring. The girl had sat back and waited, though it was increasingly more dull as the days passed.

Looking about the court idly, she focused on the faces in the background, the peers she had come to know, some friendly, or rather as friendly as any remaining trainees could be, others dreadfully cruel, giving away all their power with the first meeting of another. Though, Jane was different, everyone thought she was useless.

Whether it was the pressing heat raining down from above or the simple ignorance of her peers that caused her to finally have a small snap, no one could tell, however in the span of half a second, the girl sprinted past another tall individual to slam the ball from his grasp, catch it with her own hands and go sprinting before launching up onto the back of another as a boost and then hurling the ball through at the opposing hoop and earning a point.

The Zabrak she launched over turned around rather furious before Jane would simply glare at them for a moment without a word, the exchange ending in a grumble and the other walking off.

After this the crowd remained rather silent in shock aside from a few claps. This now being when the game was just coming to an end.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[member="Jane Lilley"]

Now that was something worth looking at. Their faces, the utter lack of cheers said it all; this person had completely evaded their attention, and then struck an unsuspected blow to their collective ego.

Darth Ophidia rose from her seat, setting her tea aside.

she threw a glance at the disgruntled Zabrak. If she knew Zabraks well, and she did, she would wager he would be back for vengeance before week's end. Question was, how would that turn out for him? Ophidia stepped out to the edge of the dais, her hands making a slow and steady clap that echoed across the arena. Her eyes fixed on this Acolyte, this most unexpected being, this Jane. She extended a hand, black as ink, and made a simple gesture of come before turning away.

When a Sith Lord called you, it was dangerous to linger behind.

The stunned silence broke into hushed whispers and stolen glances, envy, fear, anger, even amusement. For each acolyte in the pool, there was a new idea of what would happen. Lords of the Sith could be fickle. Perhaps the disgruntled Zabrak was her apprentice and Jane had dishonoured her by defeating her apprentice? Or perhaps she wanted to reward the Acolyte with riches.

Who could tell?

Ophidia filled her cup once more and poured a second one for her guest

 

[Darth Morrow]

The moment she heard the slow and rhythmatic clap she froze in place, searching across the crowd until her eyes locked on Darth Ophelia. In that moment, her stomach dropped to about ground level. This was going to be extremely wonderful, or the death of her.

As the others began filtering out, the girl wiped the small bit of sweat from her brow before fixing her hair and jogging up the stands to the dais where she was expected. Her mind heavily clouded with worry, doubt, perhaps some hope lingered as well, though fear was quite prevalent.

As she passed by another peer shot her a hopeful glance and a nod before she stepped into view of the Sith Lord.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

By the time Jane had come, Ophidia stood leaned on one of the columns separating her from the game-area. She extended one out to the Acolyte in a clear offer, or perhaps an imperative, to take it and drink its contents.

Ophidia kept her eyes on the young woman.

The cup she handed over was metallic, thin, warm to the touch, but not uncomfortable. The liquid inside it was cloudy white and fragrant to the scent, smelling sweet and mild, yet it was slightly bitter to the flavour.

Ophidia herself was tall, slender, her face cut in sharp angles and entirely devoid of hair. The bald dome of her ashen head featured faded tattoos of black tendrils, two arcing horizontally on either side of her head, two lining either cheek, one running down each corner of her mouth and connecting under her chin. The round tops of her ears were blackened as well, and on the lobes she wore triangles of silver, adorned with a pattern of dots and lines. Though what stood out most were the eyes; the irises burned like lively coals, brought out with dark makeup around her eyes.

"What is your name, Acolyte?"

Her voice was dry and husky, as if the air sawed on her vocal cords rather than play them. Her words came out in a distinctly imperial pronunciation, which would make sense for someone of her age and distinction in the Empire.

This close, it was also possible to see that her hands were two distinctly different colours. One was a pale, ashen grey, her seemingly natural skin colour, but the other was black like ink and looked as if it had been burned once upon a time.

[member="Jane Lilley"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

Taking the cup Jane stood before her, wrapping her hands around the warm metal and taking a small sip.

Contrasting her appearance, the young woman stood there, small stature and thin shape. Her hair full and thick, wrapped up into a bun on the back of her head with her own less impressive natural amber eyes that stared back to the bright coals dug into the Sith lords face.

"Jane."

The reply was short, to the point. From observation previously, one could guess she wasn't much of a social butterfly. In fact the girl may have only ever said a total of ten words while at the academy, seven of which were her stating her name. Now eight.

As she stood there her thin, tiny fingers tapped on the edge of the cup in silence, a way to regulate the subconscious fear she was currently experiencing. Specifically in patterns of five.\

tap-tap-tap-tap-tap
tap-tap-tap-tap-tap
tap-tap-tap-tap-tap

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Not a big talker, figures. She had avoided everyone's attention for the longest time after all. For Ophidia, this was like inspecting a block of stone before carving it into a masterpiece; she had to figure out the features, the strengths and weaknesses of this raw shape in front of her. Was this quiet fear? Was she timid in nature, hard to get to excel? Shyness could be a tough thing to work with. And yet, she had thrown that ball rather well.

Ophidia took a sip of her tea.

"Jane."

She observed the tapping, the repeating pattern of five. She smelled the nerves in her.

"Have you ever travelled much, Jane? Have you seen what lies beyond the borders of our great Empire? Or even beyond the security of Bastion?"

She was making something of a gamble - This girl seemed timid, her best bet was to lure her into action by teasing her curiosity and maybe even a sense of adventure. There were things out in there that one could scarcely believe without seeing them first hand. There were secrets waiting to be unearthed, words to be read, truths to be learned and spoken again.

[member="Jane Lilley"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

"I traveled much as a child. Every now and then I help with jobs offered. Mostly I remain here." She said this quietly, though it wasn't of timidness. It was of caution.

She hadn't been a quiet woman for the pupose of hiding her self from others, rather to remain unnoticed. It was her job as a child after all. Get this package from point a to b without anyone seeing you or paying close attention. It was ingrained, a part of her character.

She seemed confident enough in most situations, however it was being before a sith lord that slightly shook her, though as the normal questions began, she slowly stopped tapping on the cup, always in patterns of five.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

As a child, jobs being done. Some kind of child labour? This too rang bells in her mind. She had seen things done and she had been part of operations involving children herself. In some of those operations, she had been the child. In others, she had used the children of others, and even her own adopted daughter. They were useful in so many ways.

"More than many in this galaxy." "We have ships that can span the galaxy, yet there are those who live and die no more than a block away from their place of birth."

She drank the last of her tea and took the two steps to the table, putting the cup down upside down with a metallic clack.

"Acolyte Jane, I would like to take you on a journey."

She was almost surprised by her own words, but it didn't really show on her face. She remained as un-phased as ever, maintaining a look on her face as if she was trying to fit the last puzzle piece into an already complete picture. And at the same time, it was hard to ignore the predatorial glints in her burning eyes as she resembled very much the kind of animal that played with its food before devouring it

"A journey like none you have ever seen before."

[member="Jane Lilley"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

That was the last thing she had expected at the moment.

What type of journey, she wondered, before an idea settled in her head. This wasn't going to be a casual stroll or a little vacation on her ship.

Silencing the bells of panic in her mind, she nodded gently, quietly saying the words "I would be honored" before finishing the tea in her cup.

"Where might this journey lead? If I may question."

The girls curiosity was peaked, always so curious she was. The length, the destination, what might they do during it, however all of that was less important. A sith lord took notice in her, and was taking her away from the academy. Perhaps this was just what she needed, or what would lead her to her doom.

Looking back at those fierce eyes she knew for certain it weren't a journey of fun and games, her own amber eyes staring right back, a way of, what one could call acceptance of the terms. She could sense the desire for something out of this with the predatory glint, whether this was being decided for Ophedia's enjoyment, or rather some primal need, the only thing clear was it was likely going to take awhile.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

"Why, not where, Acolyte Jane, but what."

Darth Ophidia let her hand trace along the barrister before stepping down the stairs from the dais, expecting Jane to follow. She clasped her hands behind her back and made a direct line for a rack of staves for various practices. Her eyes traced along them, judging them by sight.

"And the what is a mystery." "One that spans the entire Galaxy."

She reached out and picked up one of the wooden staves, feeling the weight of it in her hand, then placed it back and picked another. She swung it back and forth, then nodded in satisfaction.

"It surrounds us, flows through us, it gives us power."

The Sith Lord stepped out into the game court, moving the stick in her hand, powering it from the wrist and elbow with playful ease and fluid elegance. She shot a glance at Jane and nodded her head towards the rack.

[member="Jane Lilley"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

Jane followed her down the stairs observing her interest in the staves and the short lesson she was attempting to teach, only to be confused for a moment when a staff made it into the lords hand.

The thought "she could kill me with that" running though her head for but a few seconds before she complied with the very obvious silent order, and picked one herself.

Browsing through the rack for a moment, she grabbed one of the thinner handled staves and swinging it gently in her palm in test.

After she was satisfied, Jane stepped to the court along with Ophedia, taking a deep breath and letting her body relax slightly. She could tell where this was going.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Jane got herself a stick, Ophidia approved of her intuitive choice in following the motion. It showed a basic level of observation and inference that one could too easily, and wrongly, assume all acolytes had.

"I will not kill you."

The thought had been powerful enough for her to sense it, and it was not uncommon.

"I could, no one would bat an eye, but it would be a waste." "However, I must test you, and I will teach you to protect yourself"

She did not hold the stick like a weapon, but rather like a walking staff. One end of it leaned on the ground, her hand cupping the top end. Her body faced almost sideways, keeping the right shoulder facing Jane, legs apart, heels firmly on the ground but weight shifted slightly forward.

"You will need it."

She darted forward with in human speed, closing the gap in mere milliseconds before slowing down. The stick came swinging in from the right, aimed for the acolyte's shoulder. Dust still settled from where her feet had fallen, and a smile crept over her lips.

[member="Jane Lilley"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

Yes, it would be a waste.

Her rare self confidence peaked into her mind as she made close observation of the Lord before her. Weight shifted forward. Everything but that hinted she would remain in place, however, she leaned sightly forward, the staff did not rest hardily on the ground either.

"You will need it"

Within the second she started moving the girl had already brought up the staff to guard her shoulder, quickly stepping even closer and swinging it down across the Lords legs in a forward strike, hoping to catch her off guard while displaying near same speed as Ophedia had moments ago. Though while she was quick, the woman could feel the strength faltering, something that would definitely need work.

As she did so, her stance remained close, light, ready to move and adjust as need be, nearly on her toes.

"I wouldn't say I'm helpless, though the lessons would be appreciated."

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

CLACK went the sticks as they clashed, and Jane had already moved on it would seem. Ophidia noted the acolyte's speed, but also the lack of resistance in her parry. It was just enough to stop her stick from crashing through, but not enough to beat her blade aside. It was something worth looking out for.

As Jane's stick came swinging for Ophidia's feet, the Sith Lord shifted the grip on her weapon and jumped. She did not jump high, mostly she just pulled her knees up to her chest in order to jump over the swipe for her legs. She made no move bigger than needed, not too quick, not too slow, but aimed for the perfect timing. It seemed effortless, like a dance or as natural as a bird's flight.

Then, when her feet came back down on the ground she moved her hand up along the stick so the stick ended up in a reverse grip. While mostly terrible for swordplay, it was quite viable for stickfighting. Using both hands for leverage, she swung that reversed end for Jane's head, seeking to daze her and maybe cause a bloody nose.

"Certainly not helpless, but there is much yet to do."

[member="Jane Lilley"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

As the stick swung towards her head, it was like it happened in slow motion, and while she had begun to move her head out of the way it was too late before it slammed into her nose.

Stepping a bit back Jane threw a hand to her nose as crimson liquid dripped into her cupped fingers, the other hand simply holding the staff at her side. After a second the girl would lean over, sniffle a bit, then stand up, resuming her grip on the staff and trying to hold of the blood with nothing but hope.

Placing her hands at both ends of the grip in a defensive position, she waited for Ophedias next move, her head felt like she was spinning in circles, and Jane thought it best not to try and attack this way.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[member="Jane Lilley"]

Following the strike to Jane's face, Ophidia swung the stick around and let it rest on her shoulder, one hand firmly at the end. She observed how Jane coped with the pain of her injury, and it was not the worst reaction. She had seen large and strong acolytes fall to pieces by a broken nose. Jane was neither large nor strong, yet she rose with the bloody nose still running.

"Work with the distance." "You let me inside your guard."

She shifted her stance, swinging the stick out and grabbing the end with both hands like a lightsabre. The point was diagonally forward, hands low and near the pelvis. She shifted the hands to high, the point turned to down as the stick rotated on its own axis, but it was always pointing hard against Jane.

"On point." "If I step into your point, skewer me."

She took a step back, moving the metaphorical 'point' of her weapon behind her to point diagonally at the ground along with her leg

"Even if the point retreats, your mind, your action is on point."

She lunged, taking a long, but controlled step towards Jane. The stick came swinging in from above, powerful and swift, it drove down with its weight, her strength, and the accumulated momentum of her step, and it demanded a response.

 

[Darth Morrow]

Before Ophedia began the strike, Jane shifted her own grip to mirror her attackers, listening carefully to the words, and then observing the strike.

As the staff was bright down, Jane raised her own to block it, swinging the 'blade' around to try and offset Ophedia's grip on her own. During this the shake in her hold and effort was evident, strength based skills were extremely weak, something in need of work, though if shown enough mercy, she would bat the blade off its path, stepping back and preparing once more.

Keep the gap, wait for the moment to strike, watch the point and be ready to move. One foot shifted slightly further from herself, though she was still on her toes, prepared to leap and stike, or block and dodge, little could be said, though from observation at this moment it seemed like the latter.

The way she held the 'blade' made it clear she was inexperience with a one bladed saber, her own personal resistance residing in a double bladed saber rarely used by many because of its need for balance and caution, fluidity and mastery, something Jane already strided toward.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[member="Jane Lilley"]

CLACK!

-went the wood of the sticks as one clashed with the other. The swing to offset Ophidia's stick made her weapon veer off to the side. She made no effort to stop its momentum, rather, she pulled her arms in over her head and turned the stick around, riding the motion rather than resisting it.

As her arms reached her ear, she brought the hands out again. Her back leg crossed behind the other, pulling her body to the side and powering the next strike from the hip as she brought her stick around in a horizontal sweep.

Now, she was testing how Jane stood up to the pressure of being battered. It was not just a matter of how her muscles would hold or buckle under pressure, but what method she would use to deal with it. For many years, Ophidia too was physically weak; she knew well the pitfalls. Time had strengthened her - the Force bolstered her - her experience enlightened her in ways to conserve her strength and bend the strength of another to her will, even the strength of an enemy.

 

[Darth Morrow]

Not having time or really expecting the side sweep, the stick hit Jane right in the front side of the abdomen. A deep exhale being heard after and a few stumbling steps back.

With a hand to her stomach the girl struggled to breath, holding her staff with her free hand. Her amber eyes looked up in a moment of pain to Ophedia before it was replaced by what could only be seen as determination, maybe even slight anger, the near fist clenched between her folded down body began to glow a dark red for a few seconds before she took a deep inhale and filled her lungs once more.

Moving her two hands back to the middle of the staff, the girl stepped forward and swung it around strongly, attempting to deal the same blow to the woman before her, however just as she came close enough, she pivoted and shifted her other hand forward to swing the staff against the her other side.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]