Conceited
[SIZE=13.5pt]The End of Circe Savan[/SIZE]
Chapter One: Soulsearching
Outer Rim Territories.
Esstran Sector, Kursid system.
Darth Ayra walked along a winding, rocky passage covered in foliage, puddles and pieces of rock that had fallen from the mountain that loomed above her. The breeze was harsh on her delicate nurtured skin, whipping up strands of blonde hair up from beneath the cowl of her robe. She lifted a hand to brush her hair out of her sulphuric eyes, tucking them behind her hair so that she could see clearly. It was steadily approaching the seventh month since Alicia Drey had disappeared from the face of the galaxy and she couldn’t have timed it any better. Among the billions that had been taken in a matter of moments, it was safe to conclude among the chaos that Akala had caused upon her attack on the galaxy, that the business entrepreneur from Chandrila had been one of them. Not that she had known nor planned her disappearance in conjunction with the entity at the time. No, her venture to Kursid, in a pilgrimage to rediscover her purpose, had been the amalgamation of a series of events that had transpired over the course of the past twenty years since she had met Circe Savan. Coming to a stop on the path, the Sith Lord found herself leaning against the rock face for a moment of respite. Her hand lifted itself on her bulging stomach, her face contorted in pain. In reality, the decision to abandon her life in the Deep Core and venture out into the Esstran Sector, might have come back to haunt her. With no form of civilization on Kursid, other than an assortment of primitive villages led by a collection of barbarians, the nearest hospital that could help her was deep in Primeval space. Whilst she had had contact with the Host Lord during a business venture on Bastion, she was wary of the invaders that had emerged from the Unknown Regions. She wasn’t one to believe in coincidence. Out of the factions in the galaxy that had suffered at the hands of the force entity that had brought all of them to their knees, the Primeval had been one to capitalize the most on the situation. Whilst it reaffirmed her belief that the Jedi Order was a weakness that needed to be destroyed, as set forth by the Sith imperative centuries before her birth, it was also evidence that the Galactic Republic and the rest of the galaxy had to be subjugated and taken into Sith rule. That only the Sith could rule the galaxy, so that nothing like the destruction of Corellia could transpire under her rule, for she would be the Sith that would fulfil the promise of the Sith Order and end the Jedi once and for all. Years of planning, research and hard work on the part of her master had allowed the child that she now carried to be born out of the destruction that had manifested itself through the power of the dark side and it would be a weapon in the war that was to come.
“Through destruction, we breed creation,” Ayra thought, the pain in her stomach subsiding after she rested. Months of meditation had prepared her for the moment. Her pilgrimage was coming to an end. Setting off back down the path, it began to lead down the mountain’s cliff face and into the plains below. At this high up, she could see the settlement in the horizon and knew that she was close. As she climbed down, Ayra thought of the events that had brought her here in the first place. Rave Merrill. Weedkiller. Aynea Savan. The New Order. Coruscant and the One Sith. Throughout her twenty year apprenticeship under Darth Pandeima and for all the corporations, schemes and plans they had put into work, every time they seemed closer to bring the Grand Plan to fruition, someone or something dragged them back to the beginning. From Rave Merrill, prodigy of the famous Dark Lord Velok, who had almost killed her and exposed who she was to a secret cult that existed within the world of business, to Operation: Weedkiller, that had single handily reduced Subach-Innes Corporation to the brink of destruction. To her master’s infatuation with the vixen Aynea Savan, who had also tried to kill her, to their association with Darth Vulcanus and his New Order. The episode on Coruscant, where the Dark Lord of the Sith was usurped by his own apprentice, as the One Sith gathered to stop their enigmatic leader from dying. On that fateful day, Pandeima had been destroyed by her enemies from the Sith Empire that had been destroyed several years prior, at the turn of the decade by the Jedi Order and Mandalorian clans. Her master’s lack of foresight on the situation and the sudden turn of the One Sith on both her and Ayra only served to install a concern that had been growing steadily overtime. The Grand Plan had been put in jeopardy and they had both almost died. What had been nagging at her overtime had become clear. For all her master’s training in the dark side of the Force, she lacked the necessary qualities to carry the Grand Plan forward. This was a weakness that had to be corrected. It was now only a matter of time until Darth Pandeima’s apprentice struck to challenge her place. This was the way of the Sith. Only the strong rule. But she had to find out if she was strong at all before she could continue. The test that was to come would be telling, she sensed.
Climbing off the rocky path and into the grass field and marshes of Kursid’s plains, Darth Ayra came to a stop before the ancient monument that stood before her. Towards the end of Darth Vornskr’s Sith Empire, she and Pandeima had ventured to the Muun homeworld to meet with the InterGalactic Banking Clan, in order to get funding for Chandrila DataTech. This only served as cover for the two Sith to venture to the island of Aborah, in an attempt to discover more about their Sith Order. The island had taught them much, revealing the Sojourn system to Ayra and in particular the long lost world that she now walked upon. Kursid had been a right of passage for her people for a thousand years, culminating in the death of many of the world’s inhabitants over the course of time. If not for the Four Hundred Year Darkness, then Kursid and it’s people might have reached a point in their civilization where they could begin looking up towards the stars, in the hopes of joining the rest of the galaxies inhabitants. Instead, they had suffered the rites of the Sith and the Gulag plague to boot, keeping them in their huts and tribes, with the only hope to survive until the next day and the next. A meagre existence. It was almost like the dark side itself had cast itself across the world, strangling it’s inhabitants of any future, keeping them frozen and abandoned from the rest of the galaxy, as it kept them obscured and hidden. Yet, whenever the call was made, they would send forth their strongest and most savage of warriors, without fail in the Sith’s history. As she stood there, her eyes cast over the settlement below her, Ayra could not help but wonder how it had all gone so wrong for both herself and her master. In the history of the Sith, only nineteen other individuals had stood on the same hill, where she stood and each had served to keep this entire world stuck, with only but their powers of the dark side to aide them. How could twenty years of her life have amounted only to nothing? A rage deep inside her, so powerful that it shook the ground beneath her, took over the Sith Lord. Her eyes glowed malevolent at the thought. Seven months of seclusion and meditation had taught her much. She had no other choice but to do what her predecessors had done, to learn if she was truly worthy of taking up their mantle. She would shed the weakness that Pandeima had cast from her through the blood of the fallen; and cleansed, she would return back to civilization a new woman. If she fell on the battlefield that day, then she was unworthy and the child that she carried would only serve to further stagnate and weaken the cause, for it would be weak like her and unworthy of carrying the Grand Plan into fruition, for only the powerful could rule the galaxy.
Claiming her lightsabre into her hand, Darth Ayra pushed down onto its ignition button and the soft, snap hiss of its crimson beam fell down towards the grass, as day slowly eroded into night. Manifesting her hatred into a deafening, blood curdling roar, her screams echoed across the valley and into the settlement, fulfilling the legend that had surrounded her and her Order for over eight centuries. That whilst the men or women of her kin had not been seen on Kursid for several generations, their legacy was well embedded into the minds, hearts and history of its people, who told stories of two hooded beings that would come out of the darkness once in every generation to summon their best to challenge them to battle. Conflict was their way, and subsequently, Kursid’s barbarians had answered the call each and everytime time, for it was the truest test their warriors could face in their lifetimes. Her mouth shut, chest heaving from two decades of pent up frustration, hatred and rage boiling over, Darth Ayra turned away from the summit and returned to the monument that overlooked the valley. Looming over her smaller, hooded frame stood the statues of two large, overbearing individuals. Each had the cowl of their robes lifted over their heads, concealing their facial features from view. The monument was old, battered and weathered over the centuries from animals, weather and the tribesmen and women that came across it, daring themselves to desecrate the mark of the Sith. The Sith Lord gave them a short nod, more for herself than for them, as she turned to watch the valley ahead, awaiting her test. Hours passed by, the cold embrace of her lightsabre her only company, it’s red light ready to remerge once again, long after it had joined it’s master in the announcement that she had returned to restore an age old tradition. In the distance, horns blew; war cries were chanted in a dialect Ayra could not understand or decipher; and the feet of a hundred warriors steadily came closer to the Sith Lord. She licked her lips in anticipation, the monster inside her salivating at the opportunity to sink its fangs deep into those that dared stand against her. For the first time in months, the child within was still; or perhaps it was her powers in the dark side returning back to the fore, that pacified it and its fidgeting. Even now, on the eve of battle, she could sense the potential her unborn child would have in the Force- one that would be nurtured and raised to serve the dark side and the imperative their Mother followed- and as the valley began to fill with the shouts, roars and cheers of an army, she knew that she could not fall here. For the power of the dark side was now hers to command now that she had rediscovered her soul and the purpose that she now had. It was not the barbarians that roared and charged first, but Darth Ayra, bringing out a scream that was louder and more deafening than the one that had summoned her challengers in the first place. Her lightsabre flourished, its red light destructive and cruel, as she weaved her way through the giants that stood around her. The mud beneath her feet soon became drenched in the assault, as blood washed over what had once been a healthy, green field. The skies cackled as the power of the dark side became manifested by she who was its raw manifestation. Rain assaulted Darth Ayra from the skies as she attacked, mouth frothing in her rage. A battle cry that would do even the deadliest of predators escaped her lips, imposing fear into her barbarian enemies. Her blonde hair electric and alive as the cowl of her robe dropped from her head during the fighting, as the monster inside came to the fore; and as her eyes glowed, her hatred manifesting itself as she called upon her powers in the dark side to destroy her new found foes, the Sith Lord felt the weakness that had been imposed upon suddenly leave her, instead replaced with powers that would be used to destroy her master.
What seemed like days ended in a single night, now turned to day as the attack came to a close. The skies parted, allowing rays of light to shine through their grey clouds, leaving a light drizzle of rain falling against the lightsabre in her hand, with wisps of steam rising up from its red light into the air. Ayra’s hair was dirtied by mud, rain and blood from the fallen warriors at her feet. Her face was bruised and cut from where she had been attacked, as were her arms, legs and the rest of her body. She finally relented, her thumb pushing the ignition button of her weapon to retract the crimson beam back into the hilt. Her arm fell back to her side, as she slowly lifted her bloodshot eyes through her fringe up into the sky. Finally, it came to her. A sudden warmth that encompassed her entire body, reaching down right into her soul, satisfying the monster within. It lowered its snout away from the surface, ready now to return back to the shadows so as to allow the façade to once more takeover her. Darth Ayra had never felt more powerful in her life. If only she had discovered this when she had faced off Rave Merrill. But back then she had been deceived, tricked into believing her masters lies. Her eyes dropped away from the sun to survey the landscape. Bodies littered the plains, reaching all the way back to the path that had carried her across the cliff face of the mountain, where she had called home for the past seven months. Flies danced across the dead, competing to burrow themselves into the many crevices Ayra had created with her lightsabre, in order to prey on the dead. Her gaze averted from the bodies to her stomach. Her free hand lifted itself onto her bulge, rubbing it gently. She and the child would live, in order to return back to the woman that had been responsible for its creation, so that she enact her revenge. “The Dark One,” Ayra said, beneath her breath. “I will endeavour to end her before you are born, so you will not have to put up with what I have had to endure. That I promise.” Absolutes. It was the one thing the Sith dealt in it. Her promise made, she clipped her weapon back onto her utility belt, concealing it beneath her robes. Darth Ayra stepped over the corpses, lifting the cowl of her robe back over her head, to conceal her battered and bloodied features. Her climb back up the pathway was a tedious affair, only made more difficult by the fatigue she felt, now she was no longer encompassed by a rage born out of the dark side or the adrenaline that had fired across her body.
Hours later, as the day slowly came to an end, the Sith Lord returned to the cave where the Niathal-class transport waited. It had served her well, but she decided then and there that when she returned to Sojourn, she would have the Sun Guards scrap it. There were bad memories in that transport. It had been the ship that had first taken her to her confrontation with Rave Merill and she had once taken herself, Pandeima and Aynea Savan to the Almania system, which had only proved to be another worthless venture that hadn’t been worth pursuing. It also held information that would expose where she had been for the past seven months. Something that she could not allow to fall into the hands of Darth Pandeima. As the deaths of the tribesmen had served to cleanse her of her weaknesses, the destruction of the Niathal would be a message to herself that she was no longer that weak, timid girl that had grown up not to be an apprentice, but rather a toy that Pandeima had used for her own sick vices and later a scientific project that had created the life that she now carried. Instructing the shuttle bay doors to open and the landing ramp to lower itself down to the ground, Ayra ventured inside to feast upon her remaining foodstuffs. The meal was unenjoyable- ration packs had little to no taste, and the ones that did were not appealing to her taste buds- but they served their purpose to rejuvenate her tired body. Her hunger satisfied, the Sith collapsed into a stupor at the mouth of the open transport, her fatigue taking over. She required rest. As she dreamed, Ayra was greeted by a self-prophecy of redemption and revenge in the eyes of predecessors, envisioning the moment when Pandemia finally fell to her blade. A day passed, where Ayra finally awoke. Dragging herself up slowly from the cold, hard floor, she stretched and yawned before shutting the shuttle bay doors. In the cockpit, she retracted the landing ramps and opened a canteen of water to quench her thirst, before discarding it to perform a pre-flight check on the Niathal’s systems. Satisfied that everything was in check, she engaged the inertia stabilizers before retracting its landing clamps out of the cave and back into the ship, so that she could take off. Slowly, Ayra carefully edged her way out of the cave, seeking not to have it scrap or bump into the caves stalagmites and pieces of jagged rocks, to avoid damage. When she finally eased the Niathal out of the cave, Ayra engaged the impulse engines and pointed the ships nose upwards towards the skies. Before she took it out of Kursid’s atmosphere, she circled the transport across the plains that she had vacated a day and a half ago, over the settlement. As she understood it, this was the final part of the test, to tell the people in the settlement that their warriors had fallen in battle, and that the Sith had won. That one day the Sith would return to Kursid, to engage them in battle once more. Only then, when Darth Ayra returned, it would be in the company of the child that she was set to give birth too. As the Niathal was lifted up into space, once again Ayra found herself rubbing her stomach at the thought of the person that would become her apprentice. At the moment she had fallen pregnant seven months ago during the Netherworld crisis, she had known then and there that the Dark One was likely to enter her apprenticeship or that of her masters. Her son or daughter was set to join them in carrying the Grand Plan into fruition. Only now, Pandeima had no place in making the Dark One her apprentice. Instead, Darth Ayra would rise him or her as her apprentice; and together, they would destroy the Jedi Order. Breaking out of Kursid’s atmosphere, Ayra programmed the Niathal’s navigational computer to work out a route from the Kursid system to Sojourn. When the coordinates were set, she flew the ship to them and engaged the hyperspace drive, the course set for Sojourn. As the stars began to streamline and dash past the viewing screen ahead of her, Darth Ayra closed her eyes and found herself going back to sleep.
~
Outer Rim TerritoriesCarrion sector, Sojourn system.
The Niathal arrived in the Sojourn system. Darth Ayra flew over the planet below her towards its moon. The world was inhabited, nor habitual by her research, for reasons unknown to her. What mattered was the Hunter’s moon- Sojourn- where her home was waiting for her. The journey from Esstran Sector to the Sojourn system had been a trying affair. A long and tedious journey, she had only been left with the various holo communications that had been left at the Niathal during her time in exile. The majority of them were reports from Emeritus Industries; an update from Chandrila DataTech about recent sales in Hanna City; and a personal message from Taeli Raaf, who had thanked her for help on the Lenoi project. The most interesting ones were from her master, demanding to know where she was, how the baby was doing and why she had suddenly disappeared. That Darth Pandeima hadn’t located her only served to affirm Ayra’s hatred for her incompetence. Restless, the Sith Lord wanted nothing more to be back at Sojourn in an instance, so as to go begin her plan to destroy her master. But the limitations of hyperspace, coupled by several undred lightyears between her and Sojourn proved, to be a temporary stumbling block, which only served to make her angrier. Patience had always been a problem with Ayra, who had always been quick to lose her temper. Her need to kill Darth Pandeima had been satisfied for the moment, at the death of the Kursid barbarians, but that was only a stopgap to the real thing. Her battle on Kursid was still fresh in her mind and she would hold onto the feeling upon her return to civilization. It would serve her well in the battle that was to come between master and apprentice.
Tearing through the atmosphere of Sojourn, the Niathal took Ayra across a wide and lush landscape, which was not much different from the one she had just vacated just a week ago. In her discovery on Aborah, Ayra had learned that there had once been a nuclear explosion on Sojourn that had devastated it. With its landscape ruined and scarred, the archives and histories that had been recovered following the end of the Four Hundred Year Darkness pointed towards a collaboration between the Jedi Order and Yuuzhan Vong, towards the reconstruction and/or terraforming of worlds that had been devastated during the Vong’s invasion of the galaxy and previous wars with the Sith. Worlds such as Aeten II, which been destroyed, were once more pieced back together and so had Sojourn’s surface. In a way, it was amusing that the Jedi had served a small part of the Grand Plan, that would one day become their undoing. That they were partly responsible for the terraforming of Sojourn- if what her research about its destruction and then rebirth were true- was amusement to her ears. It was a source of irony that from the Hunter’s moon, the Sith imperative would be carried forth into fruition to destroy the Jedi Order. With clouds coming into view on her viewing screen, Ayra eased the Niathal out of the stratosphere of Sojourn towards her home. The Fort was based on the design and architecture of the structure that Hego Damask had once lived in, with some minor and more modern changes that suited her needs and requirements. Like a stone castle, it could be perceived as a fortress to some, although lacking the modern defences that citadels such as those on Coruscant or Bastion enjoyed. Save for its walls and the Sun Guards that patrolled it, the surrounding landscape and forests, it was only well suited to defending ground assaults, rather than one from the skies. Jaster Awaud had once protected the Sojourn system for her, as she expected a reprisal from the mysterious organization, who’s existence had been revealed to her during her engagements with Rave Merrill, but had yet to be revealed to her; and the retribution she suspected that would come from her entanglement with the Nightsister had not come. With her disappearance, the Mandalorian had vacated his post, no doubt in the pursuit of other avenues of work. Perhaps one day they could cross paths again. As the Fort came closer on the viewing screen, Ayra’s eyes averted from it towards her dashboard, to read that there was an incoming transmission. She accepted and let it play.
“Unidentified vessel, you have entered a private system. Please turn away or we will be forced to open fire.”
“With what, a couple of blaster rifles, snipers and grenades?” Ayra replied, her voice cracked. Thirst gripped the Sith Lord. “Is that you, commander?”
“This is Commander Damus, yes. Who am I speaking with?”
“You do not recognize my voice, commander?”
Damus silence ensued for a brief moment, before he asked. “Lord Ayra?”
“Yes, commander. It is me. I am relaying my access codes to you, to confirm who I am.” Setting the autopilot, Ayra brought up her access codes on the computer and sent them to Damus, through the transmission that they had established. She waited for the Sun Guard to confirm them. “Yes. Codes received. We will be expecting you in the hangar bay.”
“Very well. Ayra out.” Taking hold of the Niathal’s controls again, Ayra turned the nose of the shuttle down towards the ground. Slowing down the ship, she took it into the mouth of the Fort as its shuttle bay doors opened to receive her. Designed to only hold one vessel of the Niathal’s size and class, Ayra touched down onto the hangar bay’s floor, lowering the landing clamps and turning the engines off, powering down the ships other systems to conserve power. Rising up from the pilot’s chair, Ayra made her way to the back of the vessel and opened the shuttle bay doors. The landing ramp lowered, allowing her to step out of the ship and into the light. Behind her, the hangar bay doors closed, leaving the artificial lights from the ceiling to light up the area. A dozen Sun Guards stood surrounding the Niathal, blasters primed and ready to fire. Ayra sensed their anticipation, knowing that they were waiting for Damus to give the word, unknowing for the moment that their Lord and mistress stood before them. The Sun Guard commander waited at the foot of the ship, hands clasped behind his back. Behind the visor of his helmet, she felt his eyes lock onto hers and felt the other Sun Guards studying the woman that was disembarking the transport. The mud on her robes, hair and cut, coupled with the dried blood of the Kursid barbarians and that of her wounds, which were still in a state of healing, made Ayra look a sorry sight. She had been forced to ration her water during the week journey back to Sojourn, meaning that she could spare none to clean herself. She licked her lips in the anticipation of a meal and something delicious to drink and eat. Pandeima had made her grow use to starvation, so as to teach her an important lesson about the dark side during her training. That the Sith were always hungry to learn more about the Force. Still, her stomach rumbled and her tired eyes made her look around the men that served her. Darth Ayra sensed the dawn of realization came over the Sun Guards, upon their recognition of their master. One by one, they lowered themselves to kneel to her, bowing their heads. She turned her gaze from the legionnaires to their commander. He too went to kneel, but the Sith Lord lifted her hand and whispered. “No. Rise.” Her lips dry, throat sore and voice cracked, Ayra finished her descent, coming to a stop before Damus. As the Sun Guards stood up, she told the commander. “Inform my master that I have returned. Instruct my servants to prepare fresh clothes, food and drink in my quarters. Tell her that I will be with her shortly.” Turning around to look at the Niathal briefly, she said. “As for this transport, I want it sealed and scrapped immediately. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Ayra could sense Damus’s confusion. That he would require answers as to where she had been for the past seven months. She knew that she could not explain to Damus where she had been, as that would reveal her nefarious intentions; and that he and the other Sun Guards served Pandeima, just as they served her. Whilst they were too loyal to betray her intentionally, they were bound by an oath to serve their masters; and any slip up in front of them would surely cost her. No doubt, Damus would have noticed the baby bump that his mistress now carried. The last time she had been on Sojourn, she had not conceived the Dark One. She could have to lie about that as well. Lifting a hand gingerly to the commanders shoulder, Ayra patted it gently in a sign of gesture, but limping past him and up the flight of stairs that led up into the main hallway, where large wooden gates to the main entrance of the Fort stood. To the sides were the dining room and servant quarters. Struggling up the stairs, Darth Ayra made her way to the staircases at the end of the hallway, which stood either side of the closed doors that led in the dining hall. She navigated her way up onto the second landing, where the Sun Guards lived; and then up along another staircase that brought her into the third and last floor, where her quarters, study and vault laid in wait. Upon her ascension to the top of the staircase, she began to disrobe herself as she made her way towards her quarters, knowing that the servant which carried her fresh clothes, food and drink would take them away after they finish their delivery. Entering her quarters, it was the same as she had left it, save for a new fresh pair of sheets on her bed and that it’s curtains had been closed. Closing the door behind her, Ayra made her way through the darkened room into the bathroom and turned on the light, activating the shower to cleanse herself of the dirt and blood that covered her scarred body. It was symbolic, the cleaning. As the mud slid off her body and hair, accompanied by the red strands of blood, Ayra felt clean for the first time in a very long time. Not since she had been a teenager, before she had met Darth Pandeima, had she felt this good. That the massacre she had caused on Kursid had been the death of the old Ayra in place of the new. An hour passed by the Sith Lord as she enjoyed the warm embrace of her shower, before she finally relented and stepped out of the shower to dry herself. Walking back into the bedroom, she found on her bed was food and a jug of juice she had ordered. She gulped half the jug before feasting on the plate of food, quenching her thirst and satisfying her hunger. Her baby remained still, as it had been since she had fought on Kursid. It was concerning, for the child had been a constant state of fidgeting and pain for the majority of her pregnancy, up until this point. She was unsure of whether or not it was normal, now that it had become still. Perhaps it had died during the fighting; or maybe it was because it sensed that its Mother was about to do and consequentially became still, knowing and satisfied by her rebirth. Rubbing her stomach again absently minded, Ayra turned to then dress herself, her thoughts turning to the task at hand. Pandeima would require answers, as would Damus, who would go on to explain to his men what he had been told. Only the Sun Guards of Sojourn and her Sith Master were aware of her true identity, except perhaps for the shadow syndicate they had clashed with during the Merrill incident. The servants were easier to fool. She could simply explain that she had been away in a remote corner of the galaxy in the pursuit of a business venture and they would be none the wiser. As for Damus and the Sun Guards, that would be trickier. But as she planned her lie, it became evident that they too would be deceived. Pandeima was a different matter. For the twenty years they had been master and apprentice, Ayra had never lied to her and that was the honest truth. It was because their apprenticeship was based on the concept of a perfect Rule of Two, one where neither Ayra nor Pandeima planned the betrayal of one or the other. They had even fallen in love with each other in the pursuit of the perfect Rule of Two. At least, that was what she had been led to believe. Ayra now saw past the lies that Pandeima had weaved over her mind. Truly, as she thought about it, love was not a passion the Sith taught, despite what Pandeima had been teaching her during their time together. Darth Ayra gave credit where it was due, however. It was genius, the way Pandeima had controlled her for so long. Manipulating the child that she had been at the time of their meeting into becoming the devoted, ever loving servant that had come out of her training. But suffering and pain had a way of undoing the lies and deceit that had been cast over her. Where Pandeima had constructed the perfect apprentice to do her bidding, she had installed an even larger passion, which was beyond the feelings Ayra had once felt for her. It was the Grand Plan and it’s imperative was much more important than either of them; and it was born out of that passion, that Ayra saw beyond Pandeima’s façade. That their love was a lie. A clever deception to keep her stuck beneath her master’s thumb; and if Pandeima truly did love her, then it was a weakness that had only stagnated themselves and that of the Grand Plan that they pursued. Either way, Ayra had confirmed after long thought on Kursid, that Pandeima had to be killed. In time, the opportunity to murder her master would come and Pandeima would be unsuspecting. But only if Ayra could weave and piece together the perfect story to explain the last seven months. It would have to be good and as equally genius as Pandeima’s lies, so as to eliminate any doubt or confusion on her masters part, about her true loyalties. That Pandeima had to continue thinking that she had the same, ever loving apprentice that would do anything or die for her, without a moment’s hesitation. That had been the type of person Darth Ayra been before her escape. Free, she was set to break her chains. Standing up and moving away from her bed, Darth Ayra crossed the darkened room to approach the strands of light that creeped through the curtains. She opened them up to reveal the land outside. Her eyes fell onto the tree tops, mountain ranges and a nearby river that she knew led into a waterfall, with a spring inside that was safe enough to drink.
Folding her arms across her chest, deep in thought, the Sith Lord went over what she would do. How would she construct the lie? It would be have to be good enough to convince Darth Pandeima that she was still the same woman, as the one that had disappeared seven months ago. But would the lie have to be done, to serve her on a long term basis? Ayra wanted nothing more than to strike down her master, but knew that it would not be as easy as that. That whilst she wanted it to be soon, she was aware that it could take her years. Whilst she perceived Darth Pandeima now as a weakling, she knew that her Sith Master was no paperweight if it came to a battle; and that ultimately, it wasn’t necessarily the way of the Sith to strike another down with their bare hands, however much Darth Ayra craved to now wrap her hands around her master and choke the life out of her. So long as she orchestrated the events that transpired after the lie properly, she stood a chance. But to construct a lie such as this would be difficult. Her objective was to then deceive Pandeima, until the time came to destroy her. Her manipulations would have to position Pandeima into place, where she could not escape, both physically and metaphysically, so that she could then strike her down. Darth Ayra had witnessed her master’s destruction deep within the Sith Citadel on Coruscant, on top it’s highest spire where Junra had betrayed the Dark Lord, so as to take his place. Where she had thought Pandeima had been destroyed at that moment was corrected later on, when her master revealed herself in a new body at the eve of Akala’s attack. That had been the final nail in the coffin, which had made Ayra finally question her role, life and the Rule of Two that she served. Pandeima had unlocked a way to escape death and achieve immortality. That her body had been destroyed on Coruscant, only to be replaced by another made Ayra angry. It was proof that Pandeima had not shared everything she knew about the dark side with her apprentice, as she had promised she would do on that fateful day twenty years ago and consequentially, Ayra had abandoned her master, eventually ending up on Kursid to meditate and think on what she would do. Thinking over what had brought her to this point, the lies that she would craft and the events she would orchestrate, Darth Ayra finally found the answer.
~
Outer Rim TerritoriesChorlian sector, Malachor system
Circe Savan leaned back in her seat, arms resting on the arm rests of her chair, eyes watching the holographic figures as they conversed in front of her. The meeting was a by monthly event hosted by Emeritus Industries, as engineers, scientists and representatives from a host of divisions of the company, such as sales and market research, gathered every month via holo call to share what they had learned; the projects they pursued; developments of future technologies and releases; sales and profit graphs; and research into other corporations, governments, sectors and systems, so as to monitor the competition and to discover where and if they could move into a sector to create revenue for the company. It was a long and boring tedious affair, but as the apparent sole owner of the corporation, she was required as its CEO to see out the meeting. She would much rather leave her office and abandon the conference, in the pursuit of the next archaeological, scientific or otherwise, at the very least, entertaining discovery, that was waiting to be found. Whilst Emeritus Industries did cover the expenses of her various pursuits, Circe found the business side to things boring. She enjoyed the research and development phase of the products that Emeritus would eventually produce and sell, whilst meeting with clients, partners or customers looking to do business with could be enjoyed, depending on who or what she was dealing with. Thinking about partners and a certain someone that she would have had sit in the meeting in her place, Circe’s attention was diverted away from the conference to an incoming transmission. Leaning forward in her seat, she said into her intercom. “I have an incoming call. Please continue without me.” Muting the conference, she turned her attention to the incoming transmission to see where it was coming from. “The Sojourn system,” she thought. “Could it be?” Lifting a hand to accept the transmission, Circe stood up as Commander Damus came to life on the holographic projector. Checking that the conference call was still muted- and she saw that it was- Circe turned her gaze back to the Sun Guard.
“Speak,” said Darth Pandeima.
“My Lord, I bring good news.” Damus lowered himself onto one knee, bowing his head as he spoke with the Sith. “Lord Ayra has returned to Sojourn.”
“Has she now? And why couldn’t she come speak to me herself?”
“She appeared injured and dirty, my Lord. She instructed me to inform you of her return and that she would be with you shortly. I believe she has-“
“Enough.”
Pandeima frowned at the news. Seven months of disappearance, only to show her face on Sojourn, made the Dark Lord angry for a moment. Pandeima had sensed that something had happened to her apprentice seven months ago- she had figured that out after two weeks of searching for her, finding nothing- and for the first time since her youth, she had felt fear at the prospect that Alicia Drey might have died. If not only for the fact that her apprentice carried the child, which was all the amalgamation of her work and research, then for the fact that the person themselves meant something to her. After what had happened with Aynea, Silara and the child that the latter had carried, only to be taken away from her by the hands of Darth Vornskr, Pandeima did not think she could stomach losing another child or lover. Alicia, the Dark One and her research meant so much to her and subsequently, the loss of all three in one, fellow swoop was unbearable. They were everything Pandeima now loved and cared for. Their loss could and would not be tolerated. Relief settled, replacing her anger, as the Dark Lord studied the holographic before her. Alicia was alive, but apparently not well. Her features unreadable in that moment, Pandeima asked. “What of the child she carries?”
“Lord Ayra appears to be with child, my Lord.” Even this far from Sojourn, Pandeima sensed the commander’s discomfort at discussing such matters. Typical. “I saw nothing that suggested she had lost it.”
“I see.” Her relief climaxed. This was good news. Now it was time to discover why her apprentice had disappeared and where had she been for all this time. “Tell her that I will be expecting her in the Malachor system. That I want to meet and talk in person. We have much to discuss. You will also enter her transport and send to me her travel and communication logs, as well as any other data you discover.”
“My Lord, I fear that will be impossible.”
“Why?”
“Lord Ayra commanded her Niathal transport be sealed and scrapped upon her return. One of my men has taken the transport away to see just to that.”
“Make contact with the Niathal, and instruct it’s pilot to instead take it to Malachor V, where I will waiting to receive it.”
“Yes my Lord. It will be done.”
“Do not fail me, commander.”
Pandeima shut the transmission off. Damus flickered and then dissipated from the projector. Turning her gaze down to the conference call, she could not fathom continuing with such a menial task, with the news that she had just received. She felt a disturbance in the Force. That there was imminent danger surrounding her. It had come to her just a week ago and she could not fathom why. It was why she was on Malachor V, rather than in the Mid Rim, pursuing leads and avenues to further her own agenda and that of her company. It was safe here in her lab. But she could not remain here forever. Something had to be done. She sensed that the sudden return of her apprentice correlated with the danger she now felt. Sitting back down briefly on her seat to interact with the Emeritus conference, Circe unmuted her intercom and interrupted a salesman from Kuat, who had been in the middle of reading a report. “I am afraid that I am going to have to post-pone this conference meeting until next week. Something has come up that requires my immediate attention.”
“Is everything okay?” asked one of her scientists. Circe smiled at him in return.
“Of course. I will see all of you in a week.”
Shutting off the holo call, Pandeima stood back up to her feet. She needed to preoccupy her mind with something, whilst she waited for Damus to return with news as to the fate of the Niathal and that her apprentice was on her way to the Malachor system to meet with her. Two hours later, Pandeima received another transmission from Sojourn. Dropping her tools, she went back to her office to receive the transmission. “Speak.”
“My Lord, I have informed Lord Ayra that you have ordered her to meet with you. She is now on her way to Malachor V.”
“And what of the Niathal?”
“I managed to intercept my man before he had the vessel scrapped. It is on its way to the Malachor system as we speak.”
“You will give these codes to my apprentice and the Niathal’s pilot. You will transmit the Niathal’s current location to me.”
“Understood, my Lord.” Transmitting the codes for both Ayra and the Niathal’s pilot, Pandeima waited for Damus to transmit the Niathal’s location. When it was received, she shut the commander’s transmission off and uploaded the coordinates to a computer terminal. Bringing up the region of space the Niathal was in, Pandeima discovered that the shuttle and its Sun Guard pilot were somewhere in the Outer Rim Territories, in the Terminus system. She deduced that the Sojourn system was further away from Malachor V and that the Niathal would arrive before her apprentice. “I will discover where she has been all this time,” Pandeima thought, shutting off the terminal to return back to her newest creation. “Let us see where the Niathal has been for the past seven months.”
