Daughter of Fen
To be a sith, is to be exactly what you want to be….
The slender hull of the LICV-1 Transport glinted in the distorted sunlight, where it rested. The gentle whisper of sand scattering across it echoed through its silent interior as Lina wrapped her head in a black scarf, eyes distant and unfocused as she recalled the words of her mother. Teachings passed down from the Empress Ashin Varanin.
To be a Sith is to find your own objectives and do anything, anything at all, to accomplish them…
R6 let out a low whistle. He was perceptive, for an astromech, understanding Lina's moods better than most. His slender arm extended, the black pyramid clutches in its claw. Her mother's holocron. She eyed it for a heartbeat and then accepted it. R6s arm retracted into the compartment from which it had extended, the door clicking quietly closed and he backed up in a respectful manner.
"Thank you, Six. Keep an eye on the sensors, I'll be a while." And affirmative beep came in response as she tucked the holocron into the folds of her cloak. Taking a breath, she reached for the landing ramp controls, flinching as the winds outside kicked sand into the ship. Adding it to the lost if things to deal with later, she compartmentalised, and disembarked into the Valley of the Dark Lords.
…To be a Sith Master is not to run away from everything that might be used against you, it's to face it and put it in its proper perspective…
It had been fifteen years since she had warned Sarge of her mother's plans to kidnap Mara Merrill and use her as a bargaining chip to get what she wanted from Mara's father… fifteen years since she had felt the presence of her mother's insanity and rage. She could recall the moment she felt her death with unwanted clarity, the rage that had followed and the overwhelming sense of being lost. Lina did not mourn Anaya Fen, she only mourned that the hand that killed her had not been hers. She walked through the Valley seemingly without purpose, reflecting while she opened herself up fully to the force, letting it guide her to the resting place she needed for the holocron.
…to be a Sith is to pursue whatever you want, knowing that you can put it aside if necessary…
Force whispers assaulted her, remnants of long dead Sith Lords seeking to lure or dissuade her. Broken statues glared at her as she passed, creatures shifted in the crevasses at the edge of her perception.
Lina remembered her first time here, she recalled the way her mother had drank in the potency of it, and how she had descended into a manic episode that had extended their simple educational visit, to weeks of agony for Lina. Anger rose in her, buzzing in the force like a kicked wasps nest and the Force Whispers became shouts, encouragement, commands to give in to her anger, to use it. Pathetic spirits, Lina shoved the memory aside but the buzzing anger remained.
…To be a Sith is to value things and people and states of being, exactly as much as you want to value them…
She wasn't sure how long she walked for, all she knew is that she stopped when the whispers did. The Dark Lords were still there, she could feel them watching, waiting. There was no great tomb, no marker, for Anaya Fen deserved none of these. Lina set her feet, extended her hands and began to split the earth in front of her, driving into with every ounce of fury she had. The deep cracks resounded in the valley and the whispers began again, excited, eager…hungry.
… and to be able to put them aside, even sacrifice them, when it is necessary.
When it was deep enough, Lina reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out the holocron. It rose from her hand, mechanisms twisting as it opened, her mothers image appearing. It didn't speak, merely looked at her with the same mix of disappointment and hatred it always had. Lina had held on to her knowledge long enough. A gentle nudge shifted it over the small chasm she had created. Lina let it go, watching it plummet out of sight.
And with it her anger fell away, her shoulders slacked and she drew in a deep shuddering breath as she laid the final remnants of her mother to rot in her own hell. The whispers seemed to chase it, like a pack of hungry wolves over a fresh kill they descended upon it, and her. Hammering her mind with shouts, screams and laughter. Lina brought her hands together, closing the chasm with another resounding snap and smiled.
"Rot in hell, mother."
The sun was beginning to set as she began her slow walk back to the ship.
