The Bane of Innocence (ATTN: Darth Abyss)

[Alara Slayn]

There was always something interesting about Sith-affiliated worlds. Perhaps it was in the knowledge that only dread of the purest sort could be chanced upon such a deathworld, or maybe it was the primal atmosphere the corrupting, corrosive agents of the Dark Side created. Malachor was such a world, once the site of a great battle where countless fell to glorious deaths, never to rise again.

Traversing the barren landscape, Alara kept her ear close to the ground as she skipped between the large obsidian columns. The noxious odor of ozone and brimstone filled the air. A great and heavy darkness seemed to loom over the horizon, or maybe really just all around. In her light acolyte's armor and black cape (head nevertheless exposed however, as she cared little for the aesthetics) she would occasionally scan the area, both knowing and not quite knowing what to look for. Newer initiates into the Path and Rites of the Dark Side seemed to suffer from this odd contagion - a blind ambition that lacked the direction of the order's more veteran overlords. She'd heard rumors of one of the more insidious and Machiavellian Sith Lords taking up residence on this desolate rock - the work of either a madman or a serially dangerous recluse. She'd thought over coming here for a while, yet even now Alara wasn't quite sure whether to attempt to kill him or seek his guidance as an instructor. At this point she already had a master, but despite the tradition that was the Rule of Two, Alara Slayn was quick to learn that codes, however supposedly sacred or venerable, could always be bent to suit one's ends. Only fools followed dogma to the letter.

I wonder what my master would think of this? Would she approve? Would she revel in the Machiavellianism? Would she punish me? Alara almost seemed to fantasize about the consequences, and perhaps enjoying infidelity a little too much. The Sith were never sticklers for honor, but individual takes on the sacredness of codes varied from person to person, even among the Sith.

Gathering her thoughts once again and pulling the fog of war back from her mind, she once again surveyed the horizon. Oh, where is the old man?, she thought to herself. About half an hour into her search, she was beginning to lose her patience. This little excursion had better be worth the inconvenient waste of time it was turning out to be thus far.

 

[Darth Abyss]

The Free Cities of Malachor had never been planned, it was one of those things that simply happened. Darth Abyss was yet to discover why exactly people felt the pull of world that was dead to the core, but instead of philosophical contemplation of that question he had decided to rather make use of that opportunity. Now the Free Cities all belonged to him in one way or another, they were the foundation of his own, personal empire to rule and build. They represented him perfectly, for two particular reasons: First of he was a man that sought out secrecy above else, and from space it was easy to mistake the cities for nothing but a collection of particular large crash sides. No one ever expected a civilization on Malachor, and that was the strongest shield they had. Secondly he was someone who always believed that breaking the chains was the most important part of the code he followed, that absolut freedom was the last step of the sith's ascension to power. And when he had to pick on word to describe the cities, it would be free. Free from rules, laws and norms that dictated live.

On a speederbike the sith lord traversed the barren wasteland, making his way from the Tainted City to his academy. Until now it had been rather uneventful, but that was about to change when his meet a figure on the edge of his vision. That was fairly odd, as the people of malachor rarely ventured outside of these days cities, not just because it was dangerously easy to get lost in the vast emptiness that the husk of planet offered, but because there was very little to find out there. The scavengers knew the crash sides in an out, so it was unlikely that it was just someone looking for semi functional parts to reuse. It had to be an outsider.

The vehicle closed in on the figure, and Abyss was able to make out the shape of a young girl, wandering through the wastelands. With every meter that passed by he could feel her aura stronger, clearer. There was a certain spark in her, a small hint of darkness, and potential. It was less rare for a initiate on the path of the darkness to end up on a sith world, but he normally expected them to seek what was left of the ancient ruins instead of wandering aimlessly through nowhere.

His speeder came stopped a few steps away from her, and from it descended the dark, cloaked figure of Darth Abyss, with steps that made no sound on the ground. The wooden mask on his face obscured anything but his mouth and eyes, and the only thing that stood out in his rather ghostly appreance was his cybernetic right leg, that marked that he was still alive, despite his porcelain, corpse like skin and his demonic, sulfuric yellow eyes. Silent the shadow of Malachor towered over her, a few heads above her in size, and more than few shades of black above her in the power and darkness that his aura projected.

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Over the deafening silence of Malachor's deathly plains, it didn't take good hearing to hear the distant hum of a speederbike closing in. Although the Force senses of a neophyte could be quite shallow, the signature of a Dark Lord approaching was hard to miss. It was as if a deathly shade of oblivion hovered over her shoulders as she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and a jolt of bio-electricity jolt up the sharp of her back. She didn't bother drawing her weapon - a raider, marauding junker or smuggler about to pounce wouldn't park their speeder at a proximity distance and then close in on foot. Not everyone was a hunter, Alara found, but the rules of stalking, ambushes and engagement tended to differ very little across cultures and species. Her light duraplast armor plates gave off a very dim hue of chrome black as she finally turned around to face the stranger, by now hypothesizing if this was the one she was looking for.

A phantom, Alara internally said to herself as she took a step or two forward to meet it. The deathly apparition seemed to tower over her, and judging by the brevity with which he moved and strode, was of great power - enough to make her shudder, and crave it just a little more. She wanted that kind of bravado and strength for herself, and found little else in life to justify existing at all. She glanced at [member="Darth Abyss"] from the top of his silhouette to his roots and back up as she kept her deadpan stare on her face. Initially she said nothing; probably attempting to size the figure up herself, while at the same time making an effort not to give in to baser passions. Igniting her lightsaber would not be necessary - by her estimates it'd be nothing more than a speedy invitation to unity with oblivion. The darkness drowned her, and she reveled in it. She could almost taste the oblivion approaching her and couldn't help but let off an insidious smirk as the two remained little more than two arms' reach from one another.

What greeted the stranger was a countour of color - fair skin, like a Krayt Dragon pearl's shining, red hair, red as Korriban's sands, green eyes, like the lightsaber glow of a (Jedi) sentinel's, and the dark colors of an acolyte's dress. She looked up at him, and admittedly up to him. Through his wooden mask she saw annihilation, and little other than the craving for all the galaxy's secrets and esoterics. She wanted it too, but a demise her would mean a dog's death. She'd amount to nothing, and die like an anybody.

"Darth?", she managed to blurt out amidst the emotional turbulence. Her hormones were running wild and the adrenalin seared through her veins. His was the unmistakable mark of the Dark Side, and of a magnitude atypical of the common acolyte or rogue knight.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Abyss."

It was uncommon for a sith to pick a name in basic, instead of associating himself with predatory animal, or simply going by name with no meaning at all, only barely derived from a word from some old, forgotten language. For him it never had been a question, he found his when darkness first touched him and introduced him to the all devouring void that called for him. Clean and simple, with a meaning behind it that could be easily comprehend by anyone close to the force. His eyes wandered over her, wary of even her slightest movement. Only because he seemed to be the superior one of two, it was still dangerous, and in many cases lethal, to underestimate a potential enemy. There had been a small attack on Malachor recently, and since then he waited for the enemy to return.

"It is not often that I find strangers walking upon the wastelands of my world."

The Imperial Remnant wasn't really the type to send dark acolytes after him, but misjudging an enemy's ability to change and adapt was almost as dangerous as misjudging an enemy's strength. Maybe she was a diversion, or just a very bad assassin, but it was fully possible that she was far more dangerous than she made herself look like, especially considering the strange, isolated position that he had found her in. Lucky for him there was a very easy to find out.

"Who are you? Who do you work for?"

The movement was almost to fast for human eyes. In one move the sith lord ripped the hilt of his saber from his belt with a telekinetic grup, the small metal device jumping into his already extended right. A second later the crimson red blade would come to live, pointing at her chest. Abyss was well aware that a weapon alone wouldn't force anyone to tell the truth, but the saber was only physical addition to the real threat to her.

While he spoke, his left hand formed a claw, and the yellow of his eyes began to glow with a supernatural light that revealed the fire of passion that burned behind itm At the same time his mind extended, a dark claw that reached for her thoughts. If he would be able to enter them, he would be able to listen not to her words but to her innermost feelings, allowing him to see if her words were truthful, or just lies.

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

The situation was so tense, her adrenaline flowing so hotly, that Alara could barely make out thoughts in her own head. It was a lightsaber, but beyond that, in one word the myths had all been confirmed. Darth Abyss. That name rung again and again in her head, and at once all the bar-talks with scum back on the Smuggler's Moon came back to her. It was quite surreal, and were it not the persisting threat of utter annihilation in the next few seconds, she'd laugh at the absurdity of what she found herself in now. What else could she expect? The Force moved as it willed, an she had yet to develop a will of her own strong enough to hone and focus it. What was transpiring now seemed like poetic justice - the heady acolyte goes about searching for power to crave, finds it, and gets snuffed out.

No, she recomposed her thoughts in her head and repeated to herself with perfect clarity, with a focus even [member="Darth Abyss"] would be able to tune in to - quite easily, actually.

Poetic justice? Absurd. There is no justice. There is only revenge.

"My name is Alara Slayn", she began with deadpan stoicism, now staring back into the hollow yellow eyes behind the Sith Lord's mask. "My story is irrelevant. It's who I've become since then that matters." She was playing a dangerous game at this point, but her burning pride and sense of ambition would not let her be backed into a corner and talked down to like some hound.

"I work for myself. No ties to the groveling lackeys in this sector, or outside of it." And although not quite as swiftly or as cleanly, Alara took a simple but quick sidestep to off-angle herself from the Darth's lightsaber, and ignited her own, also raising it and pointing at his direction - evidently not to strike, but as a gesture to show that this young girl would never submit to circumstance, so long as she had some fighting and fury left in her.

Darth Abyss would have found a conflux of chaos and turbulence in the young girl's mind - memories of an abusive alcoholic of a father, the shades of a mother never-met, the longing for parents' compassion and benevolence, the distant dream of a star-crossed first kiss with a lover, the accumulated knowledge of a galaxy to which order was lost, the thrill of petty crime, the nostalgic taste of exotic foods, the rage against the dissatisfaction with the virtue signaling of contemporary society, lust for power, desire for retribution, the pursuit of order and growth in conflict, and the defiant resistance of a wild animal.

I am tormented by dreams of my death, and by dreams of what is to come. For in my nightmares I have seen my own life vanish to memory; a nobody lost to the stars that will one day fall from the sky along with the heavens they hold up. For in my dreams, I have seen the destruction of life, and its rebirth as pure will.​

 

[Darth Abyss]

Most people, even skilled mentalists became easily overwhelmed by a mind as chaotic as the one she possessed, but Abyss own was even more restless and disorganised, allowing him to comprehend the glimpses of thoughts, memories and emotions. From what he was able to see it felt like her answers checked out, but that could easily be because of them being deliberately vague. Like most that followed the path of the dark side she had been struck by the fate of pain and suffering, the kind of fate that had pushed him over the edge so many years ago.

In most cases he had an open ear for those that had just stumbled into this world, as he saw it as part of duty to keep the order alive in any way he could. But the girl had made a mistake, one that would not go unpunished. In her mind he had felt defiance, and now it was also visible in her drawn blade. It was a mistake the rash and uncontrolled Acolyte he was once was had done many times and the main reason why one of his legs had to be replaced. He could see that she didn't intended to use it to attack him, but no one would pull a weapon on him on his world without learning the extend of his strength and skill.

"The next time you reach for your weapon, make sure that you know how to use it."

Again he moved always to quick to notice, but not with his saber. Instead his left allowed the claw, and the mental grip on her, to fade away, reaching to his back. Just a moment later a knife jumped forward, held tightly in his left in a reverse grip, aiming the short blade directly at her the plasma stream that her weapon emitted. It wasn't just a knife, it was a weapon carefully designed to disarm enemies that carried their lightsabers around without a care in the world. Forged out of Cortosis it wasn't just able to resist the heat and energy of a saber, but to short most of them out on contact. As the knife danced through the air, in the middle of its way to her weapon, his own saber made a quick strike down, aiming for her left knee. Not a deadly strike, and neither meant to dismember her limps. He only wanted to punish her, not to kill her, by taking away her balance and footing which would probably force her to literally look up to him.

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

It all happened to quickly for the young teenager to even hope to put up a fight.

It was over before it even began. In an instant Alara's lightsaber sputtered out, the blade disappearing and being reduced to a few sparks from the emitter. The youngling's eyes seemed to grow wide in horror as the red light that had up until a few seconds ago been illuminating against her fair skin flickered and died. Cortosis was something she'd read about, but accounts of light-saber wielding combatants carrying a secondary weapon for the express purpose of disarming another was not one popularly logged - probably due to its remarkably underhanded but brutally efficient logic.

It would be but a fraction of a second in battle's pausing, as the Sith Lord's lightsaber gracefully found its way down and about Alara's lower extremities, which in her uncoordinated stance, was nowhere as dexterous or agile to evade what was essentially a grazing cut to her lower thigh. Although far from fatal or dismembering, it nonetheless seared a whole through her clothing, and quickly left a shallow gash where there had once been smooth skin. The soft smell of burning flesh filled the already ozone-scented air, and with a groan Alara fell to her knees, dropping her weapon and using her hands to just barely keep herself from faceplanting into the cold, hard, unforgiving surface of Malachor. Argh! As she wallowed and groveled in the dirt, she could see the Dark Lord's feet before her, which almost seemed to mock her as she lay there like a wounded animal. It was deeply humiliating, and equally as frustrating that she'd been apparently done one up so easily. After a few reeling sighs and gasps, she yelled out in exasperation - a few rocks around the immediate area seemed to shiver, only to fall still again after Alara'd finished. It was evident that she lacked training, and all that misdirected passion was going to waste without any guidance on how to channel it into something more.. productive.

She looked up at the Sith Lord, and with both hands holding on to her cut, had little more to give than a hissing, grimacing look at who could be her ultimate doom. Do what you will, her maleficent eyes seemed to beckon at [member="Darth Abyss"], but I'll remember what happened here.

It was the first injury she'd ever sustained from a lightsaber.

 

[Darth Abyss]

The smallest hint of of cruel smile danced over Abyss face, when he looked down on the girl before him. Punishment had been served, and it was less the cut itself and more the humiliation that followed it. Now it was clear to her that it wasn't a good idea to point a weapon at him, and that he had absolutely no problem with attackin a underage, and clearly untrained girl because of some meaningless sense of honor.

"I can feel defiance in you, anger, hate, passion, ambition ... and potential."

She was clearly gifted, but unrefined. Potential was visible already, but that was a statement true to many dark acolytes he had meet during his time wandering the galaxy. He had handpicked those he taught, be it as apprentice or on occasion, for a number of certain traits besides strength of will and body. A mind that was quick to adapt and decipher the lessons taught was on of them, and while she might not noticed in the few moments it took him to make her fall, there had already been a small chunk of wisdom in it. After all violence, humiliation and pain were the tools used by the sith to forge the next generation.

"Tell me girl, what mistake did you make?"

There had already been a hint while he had made his move, he told her that the next time she pulled her weapon on someone she would have to be able to use it effectively. It was a lesson he hadn't learned so easily as her, no he was forced to learn it after his master threw him into an intergalactic war in which he had to fight for survival every day. There he had learned that never picking a fight you couldn't win was more important than being stronger than your enemy. That being smart was way more important than being strong. And now he wanted to see if she already picked up on it already.

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Alara could feel her breathing deepen as a wall of hate seemed to wash over her - looking up at [member="Darth Abyss"] from down where she was, in the dirt, she couldn't help but jump to the conclusion that part of him was enjoying this. As her lips gently and slightly parted in grimace, Alara was gritting her teeth in frustration at it all. Now he's rubbing it in my face. But if she answered it, she thought, he may allow her to leave with at least her person still intact. She'd clearly made a mistake by biting off more than she could chew. Essentially, this was the food biting back.

"What?"

At first she couldn't, or wouldn't, understand. Her pride wouldn't let her concede to be lectured, even by a Sith Lord - not like this, not on these terms. But clearly, she'd been outmatched. What's left, right? Might as well take what I can from this and move on. At first she sighed in exasperation, dropping her head in shameful defeat as her forehead now pressed against the earth beneath her. Her shoulders continued to move up and down in the midst of her heavy breathing. The searing pain from the lightsaber wound was unpleasant business in itself, but it was the shaming and the lingering humiliation that was really boiling her blood over. She may have been acolye, but she was clearly no Sith yet.

"I..", she slowly began to answer in an initial, hesitant stutter as she kept her head pressed to the earth, away from the Darth's yellow, viper-like eyes, "I drew my weapon and didn't cut you down right away. There was no use. I.. I just gave you the opportunity to do what.. what I didn't have the strength to do. Or the will."

And finally her head tilted up. "But it wouldn't have made a difference. You knew that, didn't you? You would have slaughtered me like an animal if I didn't kill you first. I made the mistake of assuming you'd play fair or be benevolent. For that naivety I paid the price."

I didn't play that one smart enough, she thought to herself, and even if I did, given where I am now, I lack the strength to do what is necessary, or follow through even if I wanted to. I'm pathetic.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Good."

So she understood the point he had made, even a bit better than he had anticipated. It was true that he didn't played fair, he never had walked into a fight with the intention of keeping his actions fair or honorable. The code of the sith was about victory, not about honor, and it mattered little how an enemy was beaten as long as victory was claimed in the end. But he still wasn't satisfied, this was just a small glimpse into the way her mind worked and to detriment if she held more potential than strong, dark emotions he had continue to torment her.

"Rise, acolyte."

The sith Lord took a step back, and the saber turned off in his right. Not only that, but he almost casuly dropped the weapon on the ground before him, followed by the knife from his left, seemingly leaving him open for another attack. It was a risky move, at least for anyone not armed with a myriad of weapons hidden everywhere around his body. Again the smile jumped into his expression, this time staying there, to humiliate her even more. A disarmed man that simply stood there, offering her the defiance she had shown him.

"Strike me down."

This moment would be the deciding one. There were two ways she could play it, or at least two that wouldn't force him to simply eliminate her for her weakness. Either she would stay down, in silent understanding that she would never strike him down with her current level of skill, or she would attack him in a way unexpected enough to actually make for a battle. That was what he had done as an acolyte, even standing toe to toe with a master once, by employing tactics and trickery that deceived his enemy enough to land a strike.

Without an outside reaction he got ready for an potential countermeasure he had to take, locking the grip of his mind around the saber hilt that was hidden in the sleeve of his right arm, while his left wandered to his side, ready to pull yet another weapon from his back should she decide to make a move. Now she could show him if she possessed patience or creativity to a degree that would make her useful to the sith, ot if she was just another lost soul stumbling through the blinding darkness, destined to fall and break on a day not to far away. Would that be the case, he would make sure to end her suffering here and now.

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Slowly stumbling back to her feet, Alara still kept a little hunch in her back as she leaned on her one good leg. Her hands broke away from her wound now, allowing her to stand somewhat straight; only maintaining a minor limp on her injured one. Admittedly, she didn't understand initially - What the kark was going on? The madman just gave her a beatdown, then proceeded to lecture her, and now laid down his arms and commanded her to strike him down? Who does he think he is?

After taking a quick glance at his cortosis dagger and his now deactivated lightsaber on the ground between them, and then at hers laying not far from the former two, she turned back up to him - part in that same disgusted grimace, and partly in sneering mockery.

"Shame on me if I fall for that one again, Darth.. Abyss", she began as her crystalline green eyes attempted to look directly into his. "These things", she continued as she gestured with her hands toward the weapons on the ground, "they're a lot like your mask. It's what I see, or what you choose to let me see. But what I don't see is what you hide behind it. The blades aren't your true weapon, as that mask isn't your true face." She then smirked pervertedly as she shamelessly continued. "You'll try to deceive me again and lure me in like a bursa with bait, won't you?" She made no effort to make for any of the weapons on the ground, but kept talking in that same analytical manner of speaking that defined her, except now there seemed to be a more sinister, corrupt attribute to her. "You show me that you've disarmed yourself Darth Abyss, but these trinkets aren't your talons. Your cunning is. Your deception is. Your connection and mastery of the Force is. Compared to these things lightsabers and rare metals seem petty don't they?"

She then raised her hand now that she'd calmed down a little, and with simple telekinesis pulled her lightsaber back into her hand and then holstered it under her belt. "Even if I struck you now and assuming you really were unarmed, Dark Lord, I'm sure you'd be ready to receive me and return the favor - except I'd be the mutt who'd have jumped in with no backup plan. You'd snuff me out because you'd will it. That's the power you embody; the power I need." She then levitated the cortosis dagger and his lightsaber into both her hands and holstered those as well.

"The day I cut you down, Dark Lord, is a day still shrouded by the Dark Side. If I decide to actually do it, it'll be when you're not standing before me and have just ordered me to do it. No, it'll be from an unexpected quarter you won't see, or in an advantageous position you can't outflank." She then grinned. "In your sleep perhaps? Or while you're at study? Maybe it'll be while you're engaged with someone else - but definitely not when you've gotten the best of me."

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"How perceptive. You looked right through me."

Abyss almost spit out the words, the sarcasm in them to obvious to miss. Only a fool would've fallen for his trap. Yet the smile on his face changed ever so slightly, switching from cruel to satisfaction. She was still pretty green, she was rash, her anger lacked direction and her passion lacked restraint. A true master of the dark side didn't just embraced his darker emotions, he was in absolute control over them to the point where he could summon them as quickly as he could make them fade away. Those that lacked this control where not much more than mindless animals, as the power of the dark side rarely came without a price to pay, a price that often involved the degrading of the mind.

"Now, my weapons. I do not take it lightly if people steal from me."

His left extend, holding his opened hand towards her. He could've simply used the force to take them away from her, but it was yet another taunt aimed at her. Beaten and inferior she already felt the need to talk about killing him, her anger so uncontrolled that she made a move for tools that belonged to him, probably hoping to use them against him one day. Normally her threats called for another round of punishment, but he was sure that he had more than enough time to punish her later, for other reasons he would come up with. At least she made threats that held the possibility of becoming true, describing methods that involved deception much like he would've picked. That was the only reason why his blade didn't fell another time, more painful than the strike before.

"There are places on Malachor that offer deeper insights than the barren wastelands. Come."

Without waiting for an answer or reaction, the sith lord turned around, leaving his back open while walking to his speederbike. It was another test. He offered her two things at once. The chance to follow him, and take some of the knowledge and power she desired so deeply, or the chance for a quick revenge, the chance to strike him down in a moment of perceived weakness. In truth he didn't needed his eyes to see, not since he had studied an old nightsister spell which made sounds as vivid as his sight.

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Alara shook her head lightly, and reluctantly returned the Dark Lord's tools anyway. There was a feeling of dissatisfaction within her that she'd taken not of by now - as if a golden opportunity for new acquisitions had been lost. Well, no mind, there are grander things in the galaxy than trinkets - and she had a long way to go, and a lot more to learn. She'd barely finished handing the weapons over as soon as [member="Darth Abyss"] turned his back on her following his not-so-gracious invitation to come with, but with his back now turned she again felt the inner stirrings of her confusion, her rage and her damaged sense of pride.

Do I try again?

The thought danced about her mind as she absent-mindedly followed him in the meantime. It certainly was unnerving to have him so nonchalantly let his guard down with her, but that in itself was a hint of what he was capable of - and potentially, proportionate to the wisdom he'd accumulated himself. It was an interesting set of choices - attempt to kill him again, or bide my time and see what he has to offer.

No, that wouldn't be the most equitable outcome. For a master to die with knowledge and secrets un-imparted would be a waste. They'd die with him, which in learning is never ideal. I'll play my cards right: go along with him, then return to this matter when I've learned all I have to.

Having read little of the Dark Side beyond the biographies of Sith Lords gone before, Alara had yet to grasp the essentials of its methods of instruction. Without saying any more she simply followed, both curious and brooding as she wondered to herself what else the Darth could have kept away - his 'bag of tricks', so to speak. Every master of every art had one, and one this cunning and insidious would definitely have quite the kit prepared. She'd have to learn from him - that was imperative.

She was beginning to understand the manifesting dynamic here.

 

[Darth Abyss]

He could feel it even without the spell, the eyes that pierced through his back, filled with the wish to take revenge for the humiliation they had witnessed. The ambition that pumped through her veins was hard to miss for anyone with even slightly attuned senses to the minds of others, and it reminded him of the time he first meet his master, Darth Ophidia. Back then his master also gave him a choice: Success or death, a choice enforced by a fairly large rock that threatened to crush him. Compared to her he was a rather benevolent Master, but only compared to her.

The sith lord descended down onto his vehicle, which was only offered place for one person to sit on. If she wanted to learn, then she had to walk like any servant before her. He started up the speederbike, and allowed to move forward in a pace that while definitely exhausting, would be possible to walk besides. In this tempo it would take them around half an hour to reach their destination, enough time to make sure that she was what he believed her to be, and not just another worthless piece of meat that sooner or later would end as roadkill anyway.

"Your weapon and aura allows for the conclusion that you already made your steps into the realm of the darkness. Tell me girl, what do you really know about the sith?"

The grin was yet to fade, as he looked at her from the comfortable set of his vehicle, fueling her anger and hate towards him in every way he was capable of. A apprentice that didn't hate his master had no chance of ever truly ascending in the ranks of the sith, and in a very twisted, corrupted way all he did was meant to make her stronger, better so she would stand a chance in the galaxy that was out there.

Their destination were the ruins of the Trayus academy, not very far away from his own academy that he founded on Malachor. She would never be allowed to see it, for a simple reason. He always believed in the rule of two, and he still did, but he also understood that it was dangerous to put all his hopes in one person. But she and Eshtaol could never be allowed to know about each other, to never even give them the chance to ally themselves against him.

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Their casual little stroll was growing more agonizing by the minute. A few minutes in, and as her heart rate picked up again, she'd already learned to compartmentalize her anger and set it aside for later - she wouldn't be needing furious rage for a fast-paced walk. The Dark Lord's speederbike at least moved at a speed manageable for a lifeform on its feet to keep up with for a while, but not without taxing their cardiovascular and nervous systems first.

At this point she wasn't even making eye contact with [member="Darth Abyss"] anymore, but could nevertheless feel that same sneering condescension that he seemed to be wielding against her like a barb-wrapped battering ram to the head. Mind games, the lot of it, but useful mind games nonetheless, particularly given the end goal. She kept her teeth clenched and her tongue cocked back initially, but was lightly panting soon enough.

Deciding not to comment on the former of the master's remarks, Alara decided to jump straight to the latter. "From what I understand, the Dark Side plays off the passions. The Jedi like to think they use reason to temper their self-control, but I'm not sure how sincere that is. There seem to be a lot of Jedi that search their passions a little too deeply for their order's liking." It didn't help either that the purest and most refined of Sith teachings were always kept hidden away, and seldom written down in historical surveys for the general public to consume. She knew nothing of the Sith's ancient secrets, but even Alara knew that much.

"The Sith to me should be the embodiement of the Dark Side. What they are today may be disputable. To me, to be Sith is to be unhindered, unrestricted, unbound, free. Not to be shackled."

She was having a difficult time articulating her thoughts, this youngling, but her train of thought seemed clear enough. Stifle your passions, your primal essence, and you encage yourself by your own machinations. But if you go about it the other way, and instead embrace this primal essence, all the things that drive you and keep you going, you may just find yourself breaking free - which only a few do.

The prerogative of the feral, the strong.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"You evade my question, and yet you recite wisdom paraphrased from our code. If I am to share my secrets, so will you. Voluntarily or not."

It was an attempt to deceive him, but really not a good one. Not giving him an answer already told him a lot more than even the worst lie she could've come up with. However these glimpses of knowledge fell into her hands, it was in a way that she meant to keep hidden from him. That could mean many things, some people even had secrets for no other reason that to have secrets. He would find it out anyway, either because she would tell him herself after understanding that there was no version of this meeting in which he would walk away without it, or by simply ripping it out of her head with force. There was a reason why his enemies had gifted him with the title "Mindeater".

"Your answer is correct, at least to a degree. Yet while you understand the concept, you draw the wrong conclusion."

Teaching and learning the philosophy of the sith had always been something he enjoyed greatly, it was one of the few things that still brought him some sense of true happiness, a emotion almost completely lost in the sea of darkness that was his mind. It was far more than just interested that had pushed him to devour any small piece of information he found about this topic, during his studies of the different sects and groups revolving around the force he discovered that there was a clear connection between philosophy and use of the force. Being a sith or a jedi was not a title, nor something given to those part of their order, it was a state of mind, and that state influenced which side of the force one would draw from, and in which way one could channel it. His thesis was further enforced by observing the groups besides jedi and sith, which had created unique and obscure abilities to apply the force in conjunction to their beliefs.

"No sith was ever truly without chains, and neither will there ever be one. The path of the sith is about adaption, and it is one without a destination. We strive for perfection every day and every night, one small step at the time, but we will never fully reach it, no matter how close we get."

Perfection was not only highly subjective but also in constant flux depending on the circumstances, exactly like the physical, mental and metaphorical chains they all carried with them. On the horizon he was able to make out the entrance of the ruins to which they were heading.

"Your words let me believe that you know our code. Say it out loud, repeat it until it is burned deep into your mind. Make it your mantra, they only one you will need from this day on."

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Alara cussed just under her breath, her head turned the other way as she kept moving at the same, upbeat pace alongside her newfound de facto mentor. She had hoped to circumvent the unpleasant affair of having to explain her tragic backstory, but it didn't look like the Dark Lord was leaving her with much of a choice.

"It was on Korriban", she began reluctantly and with a shortness of breath that betrayed her sub-par conditioning, "I was studying the tomb of Ajunta Pall when I was.. approached by a Sith Lord. Much like yourself. It didn't take long before she took me under her wing. Needless to say, the first year of my training was.. unexpected. I guess it's the same for everyone who comes to the Dark Side of the Force and expects to be able to walk right through the gauntlet, huh?"

A quick sigh before continuing, "A few rotations ago, I ran into someone.. someone special again. He tried to talk me out of my acolyte training and really wouldn't let up until I handed my lightsaber over. When he tried to grab it, I panicked, and it ended up with my lightsaber ignited and him dead on the ground." She shook her head, obviously still grief-stricken over the ordeal. "There was another. I didn't have it in me to go after her right after I'd.. killed him. I panicked. I felt ashamed. So I came here, searching for answers, and an end to the guilt and grief."

Given [member="Darth Abyss"]'s mythic powers of being able to touch the minds of others, it wouldn't take much difficulty for him to discover that the 'he' Alara had been referring to wasn't exactly a lover, but actually her father. A hotshot, headstrong but vice-laden Morellian Enforcer was he, with a spirit just as restless and fiery as his daughter's. One night, after walking on in on her father while knowing yet another lover, the former discovered that the already disgruntled youngling had entered the order of the Sith. And so while trying to wrestle her lightsaber away, her father had accidentally found himself on the receiving end of his own daughter's rage. First it was both his hands, and he was ultimately decapitated while on his knees. The lover escaped, but not before taking a lightsaber and brown cloak of her own. The exact details are foggy to Alara, and most of these memories have since been suppressed and tucked away in the depths of her subconscious mind, but nonetheless the emotional trauma is evident in her apparent madness.

She then turned to the Dark Lord, actually surprised by what he said next. A Sith is never truly free? Then what was the point? She didn't quite understand. "Why?", she blurted out in inquiry. "What makes you say it is unattainable? Isn't that what the code says?" Alara then proceeded to recite it all the same and as instructed, pausing in between each line to catch her breath.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, power.
Through power, victory.
In victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall set me free.

 

[Darth Abyss]

He refrained from commenting on her story, and neither made he use of his power to look into her head while she spoke, instead only making mental notes of things he could use to torment her later on. In his line of work, as a sith and as a career criminal, it was of upmost importance to be able to read people, with or without the force. Her body language, her facial expression, even her voice told about the suppressed pain that lingered in her mind. Everything pieced together painted a dark, beautiful and twisted picture of the trauma she had suffered from, the same kind of mind numbing emptiness that close to all sith had felt at some point of their live, when nothing was left inside but fear, anger, hate and confusion.

"The code only teaches us that we call upon the force in our attempt to break our chains, not that it actually grants us the freedom we desire."

Again there was the cruel smile, as Abyss allowed silence to stand between the two, waiting to see the the glimpse of hope she had due to the sith shatter into little pieces. She was right, what was the point if they would never be truly free? That was the beauty of a code that was open to interpretation, there was so much it could offer, if one looked deep enough. Only because a sith could never truly stop to evolve didn't meant that there wasn't a redeeming quality to the path they followed. After the moment had passed, he broke the silence once more, his tone more alike that of a teacher than that of a lord of the sith.

"Some chains are to heavy to be lifted, be it hunger, thirst or exhaustion. Yet a fully realized sith still holds a degree of freedom far beyond that of any common men or women in this galaxy."

The grin had faded, and in its place was now a completely emotionless, stoic and even slightly cryptic expression thatr revealed absolutely nothing about the things that worked behind it. It was already hard to place his current emotional state due to his mask, but from his master he had learned to keep a poker face so absolutely unreadable that it got him banned from morr than one sabbac table in his live.

"We can push our bodies far beyond the limits of what should be possible, we can break apart the rules of reality itself, we even can trick death for some time, but the dark side does neither grant us immorality nor omnipotence."

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Admittedly, her spirits were crushed somewhat. And yet, she refused to accept it.

No.

"This is true", she contented herself to reply without any more pointless groaning or despairing. She wasn't about to let one particular interpretation derail her anyway, however disheartening at first. She had to be stronger than that. Only her will was real, as well as whatever it could conquer, or whatever could dominate it in turn. As the two continued along, the master on his speederbike and the would-be apprentice still managing along but with incrementally increasing difficulty, Alara found herself deeper in thought as she pondered the master's words. Or was it anxiety? Despair? Truth be told, it was all of those things at once, and another crimson notch to add to the list of scars and traumas that served to fuel her rage and borderline insanity as she struggled to comprehend the freedom that lay just beyond her grasp.

"It's a lot like Pazaak, then?", she continued, attempting to draw an analogy a 16 year old youngling could wrap her head around. "It's the same game with the same end goal, but even though every player'll have a special deck with their own trump cards, whatever winning hand you lay down will always add up to 21..." She wasn't really sure if she was making sense, or if her new master understood the game of Pazaak in the first place, but at last she began to understand after that little exercise of thinking out loud. In that respect then, she thought, the Jedi and the Sith had their least common denominator in the form of the natural limits placed on finite beings. Even the Force, with all its secrets, its power and its potential, couldn't halt the march of mortality - something that was as natural as the Force itself. But what was 'natural'? Ah, there was the question.

"I understand", she followed up as she listened to [member="Darth Abyss"] more, but not without some contempt at feeling like he was toying with her on account of her young age. "So the last line of the code only tells us that in our conflicts we may find what it is we seek. But it is only through passion, strength, power and victory that we actually earn anything? And even that is no guarantee. (?)"

".. So.. It's not the 'worthy' destination then, is it, master?", unconsciously calling him by that title as she pieced it together. "It's the will to act and the strength to contend with conflict?" By that logic then, a Sith's power came from an indominable will - the wisdom to know that death comes for all, but also the iron will to not let that stop her. Somewhere between that, passions, power, ambition, all these things fit in.

 

[Darth Abyss]

The analogy she picked was a bit of a oversimplification, bit it was still fitting enough to prove that she understood the point, at least as well as anyone could that had not yet crawled through the dirt and blood that was part of every siths ascension. He offered her a slight nod as answer to her last question. She was a quick learner, like he had been one in his acolyte years, fast to discard her own thoughts when offered a new perspective, yet also not without a sense for critical thinking. All in all she seemed to be sith material, at least enough for this to not be a complete waste of his valuable time.

The speederbike stopped, the ruins they had been travelling to now only a few steps away from them. It had been long since he had ventured into the ancient academy, because there was very little to find inside besides a slightly stronger connection to the dark side, something a number of less decayed and broken places on the planet offered. From what he remembered about his last trip, he knew that large parts of the Academy had collapsed, including the Trayus Core from where the original sith triumvirate had ruled, which was now nothing but a dark and deep hole in the ground that almost reached to malachors core.

"Come apprentice. The darkness itself can answer many questions if you allow yourself to listen."

Wordless he stepped inside, sure that his new apprentice would follow. Other than her use of the word master, he had deliberately chosen to call her apprentice, giving her some sort of connection to him, a chain to hold her with so to speak. With some time invested in her training she would make a useful addition to the tools he already held for his operations.

If an outsider with knowledge about the sith of old would've watched Abyss walk through the academy, then there would've been fear. Not because of Abyss power, but because of his appearance. In ancient time Darth Nihilus had wandered this place, shrouded in a black robe, and marked by a strange mask. It was no coincidence that "The Mindeater" had picked such a similar attire to the Lord of hunger, it was a choice Abyss had made to show the dead sith lord that fascinated him the most the respect he had earned with his feats.

"Close your eyes, allow this place to whisper to you. Listen to the echoes that resound through the force."

What he was trying to teach her was the art of psychometry, on a base level. It wasn't a art of the darkness but that made not less valuable. With it she would be able to learn from the cold stones, the half faded sith insignias on the walls on her own, simply by allowing the force to tell stories of times long gone by. It was the way he had claimed much of the knowledge he held today.

[member="Alara Slayn"]