Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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One Ring To Hear Them All

It had been so long since the forge had called to her.

Now, aboard the Judgement once again, she could not help but venture down to the workshop she had created in another life. It was as though the bellows breathed life into her as well as the furnace, and for a moment she stood there with her eyes closed.

The smallest of smiles twitched at her lips, this was what home felt like, what it smelt like, to the small Umbaran woman. With a heavy clunk the blast door shut her in, locking behind the Lady in White. As she approached the forge her eyes opened and she cast her gaze about the untouched tools of her trade.

Even in her death, it seemed as though the Phoenix had respected his Queen and her few possessions. Clearly he understood better than most how much she cherished her time at the forge. Everything was as she had left it, and even some of her more precious materials remained in their storage crates - unused, untampered with.

Reaching into her robes the woman pulled out a thin vial of blood, which she had extracted from the Phoenix -- Thyrian, he had corrected -- after his fist fight with an Officer. The blood would still be good for a little while now, but she didn't want to risk it losing its potency. No, she had to act fast if she wanted this experiment to work.
 
First and foremost was the need to find her ring size. She hadn't really had need for any form of adornment before, not that anyone - except perhaps Thyrian - would have ever taken the time to study her fingers and realise as much. They were not particularly large, and her knuckles were just as small as the rest, which made taking the measurements relatively easy.

Making a note on a scrap of wood she turned around and began to gather further supplies. Oh, it had been so long... And yet she fell into the motions effortlessly. The actual ring itself would not be too fancy, perhaps a word or two might be etched into the side she had decided. But the focal point would be difficult on so small a trinket. No doubt she would be doing this for several hours.

Realising that the blood might not last so long, Kära halted in place and frowned. Perhaps it was best she made the counter now? She had already created a tiny sequin-sized mold in preparation, back aboard the Ysmir, she just had to quickly cast and cool it.
 
Making her way over to the forge Kära removed the small mold and set it aside, allowing it to heat up. In the same moment she removed some of the refined Electrum stored in the workshop and set it to melt within the crucible; the heat had it in molten form around the same time as the mold reached peak temperature.

Carefully Kära poured the molten Electrum into the mold and as it blended into the crevices she added first the small drop of Thyrian's blood and then finally she cut the tip of her finger and allowed a drop to fall - mixing with the electrum and the life essence of her most loyal follower.

For a moment she felt a pain like no other, and no doubt [member='Thyrian Ashborn'] felt the same, however the moment ended as quickly as it came about. In the same instance she allowed the Force to flow through her and the glowing liquid, combining everything together and alchemically strengthening their bonds as they entwined.

Anxious to see if it had worked, yet knowing better than to rush the process, Kära set the mold aside to cool. She still had a very long way to go before this experiment of hers would be finished.
 
She could feel perspiration settling upon her brow, the strain caused by a lengthy absence taking its toll on her. Feeling weary, and knowing that there was now no urgency of time as the binding process had already begun, she slumped down into a chair and closed her eyes. It was like the construction of Tsawak all over again, it was always far more draining when life essence was added to the mix! Still, a drop was nothing compared to what went into her Sith Blade.

Glancing down at her cut finger she wiped away the blood on the side of her robe and dabbed a tiny bit of bacta-salve over the minor laceration. She didn't really care for patching herself up as well as she had Thyrian, she had the immune system of a God with many thanks to one Daxton Bane, if poisons intent on killing her had very little effect then stray infection didn't really stand a chance. Or so she told herself, at least.

Reaching into her pocket the dainty Sith Lord removed a small smooth white pebble and exhaled softly in exasperation. If only she were able to get ahold of the blood of the boy who had given this to her, so many years ago. A potential voice of reason for her chaotic life. Even now she missed [member='Thurion Heavenshield'], the only friend she had ever known. But she would not put him through the pain of a Sith's experiments just to be able to converse with him over a distance. That would be wrong of her.
 
After a brief respite the woman rose and shrugged out of her robes. Beneath was a simple tunic and trousers the likes of which she used to wear during such physically taxing sessions. The heat was borderline unbearable for the woman who had spent much of her life traversing planets made cold by the presence of the Darkside. Neatly folding her more formal attire, and setting it down to the chair, Kära took a healthy helping of water and turned back toward the forge.

Creating a basic ring mold was easy now that she had the measurements. Opting to sit down for this also she pulled a chair up to the workbench and hunched over - something she would usually never permit anyone to see her do.

Taking up a thick block of wood which had been used for similar means before, separate from that which she had wrote upon earlier, Kära began to tightly pack in clay to the circle at its center. Ensuring that it was level and dense, Kära began to carve in the basic shape of the ring, ensuring it was a closed band, with the aid of the Force for precision purposes.

With a slight grumble of concentration Kära mentally scanned the mold for imperfections before setting it aside to allow it to begin to set.
 
Midway through the setting process Kära returned to the mold. She etched the words "Nin", "Jen" and "Chwayatyun" around the band, leaving ample space for the focal point, all in the ancient Sith runes. Finally she added another piece of clay to the area set aside for the focal point, bridging the gap while ensuring there was still a band along the top and bottom edge. She ensured that the addition, which would end up a broad rectangle of air within the band, was precise and then set it aside once again.

She did not return until the mold was fully set and ready for use. Moving over to the crucible she once again threw in some electrum and began the process of heating the metal until it reached its molten stage. With the mold heated and the liquid metal ready she carefully poured the latter into the former, shielding her eyes with her spare hand. The fierce glow was something she had once adjusted to, but her eyes felt tender and delicate at this point. Sometimes the vision of her people was a great hindrance.

Focusing on the molten liquid Kära began to flow the Force through it, focusing intently on every last molecule as she quickened the substance in the self same manner as the counter and strengthened the bonds. After all, Electrum wasn't the strongest metal in the Galaxy though it was arguably one of the most decadent.
 
The band had set.

She removed it from the mold carefully as she could and tried it on for size. Of course it felt rough and unrefined, and was far from completed, however the size was appropriate and she was quite happy with the thickness of the band itself. It wasn't all that likely to warp, especially not since it had been moderately infused with the Force. No doubt it was heavier than it ought to be, Alchemy had that effect on things, but it was a small price to pay to ensure that it was fully operational and wearable on an every day basis.

Before she could begin to finish the band Kära had the far more delicate task of creating what could only be described as an abacus. For this the thin rungs had to be made and attached, with a clear method of removal for when counters needed to be added. Plus thirty sequin-size counters had to be individually made and given time to cool. Such a grueling process. She could, of course, have made numerous molds but that would have been quite the waste in her eyes.

Opting to construct the whole thing separately, and then have it inset and melded to the slot in the ring, Kära took measurements of the rectangle of air - first smoothing down the interior to a fine finish to ensure that it was as precise as could be. The rest of the ring would not be finished until the point of assembly. So much could happen between now and then after all.
 
The abacus was such a frustrating ordeal in terms of creation. It was so small that Kära feared it might snap if she applied too much pressure. Of course her worry was folly. Each thick sequin was cast and set over painstaking hours, which left the Sith Lord with little more to do than twiddle her thumbs, take brief naps, and drink an unhealthy amount of water.

But it was the locking system that proved the most difficult. Unless she wanted to have just the one communication counter for the rest of her life she had to make it work in a way that meant it wouldn't fling open and scatter the counters at every chance it got. Using the Force was, of course, her first consideration. After all, it would already be a necessary ally with regards to activating the counters. Still, she did not like the thought of it emitting too strong a Force signature. The other option was a physical lock, perhaps a pin which could be retracted down into the band with the right amount of pressure.

Instead she considered the best of both worlds. Making a very small lock on the edge of each of the five rungs, at the space where they met the bands, she ensured that they were too small to reach by hand, or even with the likes of a needle. Instead a very slight maneuver through the Force would coax down the pin just long enough to release the relevant rung. It would have to do, she decided, unless she wanted to spend the rest of her life deliberating over such a small detail.
 
For all Kära knew an entire day might have passed within the oppressive heat of the furnace. But with all of the individual parts constructed, and the special communication counter set to one side, all that was left was to smooth the band into a wearable finish and attach the abacus. Sliding on each of the minuscule sequin-like counters to their relevant rungs, Kära carefully hid upon the first row that which held the life essence of she and Thyrian. Taking special note of its exact location among the other six on its rung she finally clicked the pins into place and set aside the abacus.

Then she worked on smoothing the ring, ensuring that there were no rough edges which would tear her skin or cause the abacus and the band to reject their inevitable bonding. Kära was quite pleased with the way in which the runic markings had come out, the impression just clear enough to make out if one knew to look for them. Finally she slid the abacus into place and fused both electrum pieces together until there was no longer any indication of where one ended and the other began. Once it had cooled she tested the pin release through the Force, and was happy to find that all five rungs could be accessed on her slightest whim.
 
Now came the pinnacle moment.

Kära placed the ring upon her left index finger and proceeded to run her thumb along the abacus, ensuring that each of the counters could be touched. So far so good. Settling her thumb carefully so that it touched the communication counter, Kära focused into the Force and sought the presence entwined with the metal.

There, at the back of her mind, she could feel the consciousness of [member='Thyrian Ashborn']; while she could not tear memories or thoughts from his mind, she was in that instance able to transmit a very clear and concise thought. Though it would take a moment for her to find out if the recipient was truly able to hear her or not within his mind.

"Phoenix" she began, "meet me in the Forge..." Now only time would tell.
 
There was a ringing in his ears followed by searing pain crippling his body, but it passed in mere moments. He knew Kära had entered the alchemical forge deep in the bowels of the ship, and thus headed there. Ruling out that the man just had a stroke of some kind, he figured she was up to something. She always was, after all. Suddenly her voice echoed inside his head, as if she'd stood and spoken right next to him. Now he was sure of her being the cause of it, and as he neared the locked door of the furnace, he raised a fist to give it a knock.

"Kära? You alright in there?"

[member="Snowflake"]
 
She heard the knocking on the blast door, and without so much as a glance in its direction the hulking chunk of metal lifted with a groan to permit him entrance. The ring remained upon her finger, and as she turned a very small smile graced her lips. Oh, it had worked! She did so love it when a solo project came into fruition. There had been no Daxton Bane hovering over her shoulder, no Darth Shadow instructing her as they went along. No, this had been all her own work, like nothing else she had created before... And it worked!

"Set a course for Umbara; I have no doubts that this is no longer my ship..." The last sentiment stung a little, as this had been a gift from her Father. What other treasures remained onboard from her other life? Kära wouldn't have minded finding out. The little pebble had been replaced to her pocket, and in that instance she threw the robes back over her person and walked to him. She leaned up, trying to touch his cheek... But she was quite the bit smaller than the Ashborn. Hopefully he would understand the gesture.

[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]
 
The sight of his [member="Snowflake"] all sweaty and laboured caught him somewhat off-guard. She was always so composed and... rigid, for lack of better word. Now her skin was glistening, her white hair somewhat unkempt, and even a hint of joy on her face. Upon noticing her attempt to reach for his cheek, Thyrian lowered his head enough for them to make contact. No-one could ever make him feel truly at peace as she could with but a simple touch of her hand. Despite the tender moment, he frowned.

"Are you going to leave m-- us?" he voiced his concern and greatest fear.
 
She shook her head once again as her hand settled upon his cheek. "No, my Phoenix. I do not plan on ever leaving you again, at least not in the way I have in the past. But I need to reclaim my name, and in order to do so I must go back to the very beginning." While he was leaning down she lifted up further and settled her lips to his cheek. "Trust in me, I will not lead you astray. Return to my service, Ashborn, and it will be as it was only greater."

[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]
 
The small kiss on his cheek caused him to tense up if only for the briefest moment. So strange was the sensation of anyone showing him affection. He was undeserving. "I swore on the day we first met that I would serve and protect you, my little one. It is all I live for, and I would die for you time and again." He raised a hand to very gently brush a few stray strands of hair from her face, followed by his fingertips brushing her skin as he traced the outline of her jaw down to her chin.

"I will follow you to Umbara and beyond, until East becomes West and time ceases to exist."

[member="Snowflake"]
 

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