The Dream of All Sith

Posted on Wed Jan 23rd, 2019 @ 9:12pm by Amare & G2-O7
Edited on on Wed Jan 23rd, 2019 @ 9:14pm

4,392 words; about a 22 minute read

Chapter: Chapter V: Unbound
Location: Secret passage, XoXaan's Temple, Korriban
Timeline: 0140 Hours, Day 2, (following "Tempering the Blade")
Tags: Alyndra, azoth, Cult of Evil, Jedi, padawan, shoto, force drain, Amare, Capo

OLD:

"I answered your question," Archonus called out to her, "now you will answer mine."

Amare turned to face the Sith Lord one last time just as heavy stones and mortar started collapsing down from the ceiling behind where Archonus hovered.

"Do you love 'him'?" he asked.

Amare made no move to answer him in any way. She held her harsh gaze at the Sith for but a moment, and turned away from him taking G2's remains on the sled, disappearing into the unlit gloom of the ancient hidden passage.

ON:

Amare was grumbling to herself, dwelling on the intrusive question.

"None of his business," she told herself with G2's broken remains on a pile heaped on a grav sled towed by a gentle tug of the Force as if Amare was leading it with a tractor beam. Her words started to come out in a clipped exotic accent, her angry "islander" voice that hadn't slipped in a long time. It was a throwback to her time growing up with the Wolphs on Glee Anselm. "Dat scumraass. How dare he ask me such a 'ting? What a damn fool 'ting fuh ask." She stopped and pondered it again. Was Archonus truly on to something? Did he know her feelings better than she did? "And...how would he know?" she asked herself.

The late Darth Archonus' secret passage was a narrow, winding tunnel that was barely tall enough for Amare's average humanoid height. There was a chilly airflow that brushed past her bare thighs and arms that gave her reason to shiver slightly, but it was blessedly accompanied with a tidy amount of humidity. She heard faint droplets of water in the gloom ahead indicating that the tunnel was carved near a source of water, possibly an underground reservoir.

All around her, she could feel herself being watched, faint whispers and the long foreboding ebb and flow of ritual chants and flattened wails of pain, echoes of the many dread acts that poisoned and scarred every cubic inch of Korriban, both above and below ground. These dark feeling only grew more intense the further she went, and she could tell that it was only a matter of time before she enter the monolithic halls of XoXaan's temple.

The grav sled gave a slight rattle as it encountered difficulty maintaining stability over the uneven ground, and G2's ball-like dome slid off the edge. Amare gasped and quickly rushed over to retrieve piece that made G2 what it was. She knelt down and picked it up with her hands, using her telekinesis to help lessen the weight as she held it.

"I'm so sorry, G2," she said to the inactive shell regretfully, but not with sadness. She knew there had to be a way to fix it...him. "I would have died more than once back there were it not for you." She wiped some dirt and dust from its ocular sensor, and gently blew off the bits she couldn't get with her hands. She smiled with a satisfied nod and added, "When we put you back together, I'm going to demand they stop wiping your memory. If Thane refuses, I'm going to create a hidden backup archive that saves your experiences before the daily wipe, starting with today. I'll make sure he never finds it. You're the greatest droid in the galaxy, and my friend. You deserve to remember your deeds. I owe you that much." She carefully replaced the dome on the sled, gingerly setting the tough metal part down like it was made of glass, and resumed her journey.

When the darkness became such that even her low-light vision was starting to fail her, she raised her free left hand up, and, much as she did back on Yavin in the Massassi temple ruins, began to draw upon the ambient flow of Force energy around her. She drew in and exhaled a long, satisfying breath as a small faint column of waving red energy coiled seductively into her palm like a tiny spirit in the shape of a snake. Since bonding with the azoth, using the dark side started to feel more and more like the pleasure of consuming a rich dessert after a main course, or the feel of swimming near a warm geothermal vent, or the feel of a man's fingertips caressing her--

"No...stop it. Get a hold of yourself," she shook her head out of its reverie, placing her other unlit hand to her forehead. "Stay focused. Gotta...find the masters. Just a little...unnhh..." She felt a wave of tingling on the skin across her body which thwarted her resolve. There was the smell of something sweet in the air as she started to feel faint. It was like fresh ripened fruit off a palm tree, or natural sugar cane, she wasn't sure which. She started to feel sick to her stomach again, fearing another bout of rejected fluids, but instead of nausea, her mind was bombarding her with flashes of images...violent images that made her feel strangely...euphoric.

Every image was like seeing through someone else's eyes, and in front of her, there was always a crimson red lightsaber either cutting someone down, or clashing with another gleaming energy blade of either blue or green hue. There was even an instance of a pair of red sabers with spiked hilts gripped by large powerful hands covered in thick silvery white hair slashing a deep scorching X-pattern across the robed chest of a Kel Dor. She heard a cacophony of mixed voices all trapped in a horrific scene of mass murder--some in pain, some crying for help; a man laughing with diabolical glee; the sound of a Wookie roaring a spirit-jarring battlecry laced with bloodlust; and fire and smoke everywhere.

"Revel in it," came a distant voice directly in front of Amare pushing reality back into focus. "Do you feel the power they wield? Can you see how helpless those robed idiots are against the true might of the Force? Glorious! The dark side cannot be denied. Judgment shall at last be passed on the Jedi that dare looks down on us. They shall pay for their arrogance."

The foreboding images and sounds halted to such a blindingly fast degree that Amare had almost instantly forgotten what happened, but the intense feelings that conjoined with the experience cemented it in her short-term memory. Ahead, she couldn't make out the sight of who spoke to her, but she knew the voice all-too-well from her recent duel with the terentatek.

"...Alyndra?" Amare called out, advancing further towards the sound of the alluring Sith's voice.

"If I were like my father," she replied with the same refined accent as her father's, her sultry voice a cascading echo through the length and breadth of the tunnel, "I would have corrected you for failing to heed my station as a Lady of the Sith, but like you, I despise all that he was. It should've been me that snapped his neck that day!"

Amare pushed forward, nearly slipping twice on the slick and bumpy cavern floor and stopped when she was close enough to make out the glowing yellow eyes of the late Alyndra, daughter of Darth Archonus. She was, however, not alone, as there was yet another pair of smoldering orbs level with the height of Amare's knees, glowing slightly brighter than the taller female Sith.

Amare held up her Force-powered hand acting as a makeshift torch, and could make out the two that stood before her. Alyndra's outfit was very close to Amare's, but no skin--except for that of her red face with uneven black circles around her eyes--was exposed. Alyndra, whom Amare found to be curiously exotic and gaunt, but otherwise not terribly attractive, had the facial tendrils indicative of the long-missing pureblood Sith species, as did the little Sith girl, perhaps no older than six or seven years old, holding hands next to her.

"Interesting that father chose to make your version of my outfit more...revealing," she noted with harsh judging eyes. "It does suit you, I suppose. Some Sith used to think showing skin was a useful distraction in battle. As for you using Force Drain...to create a torch? Hmm...I don't know whether to laugh or be impressed."

Amare shrugged, "I do as my instincts guide me. Who is this little one?" Then added with a lie and a fake warm smile, "She's very pretty." The child, though somewhat cute for simply being so young, strangely appeared even more repulsive than Alyndra. Amare surmised that it probably wasn't the face so much as the skewed dark aura behind it that surrounded her small form.

"I'm not little!" the little tyke snapped at her with a pushing gesture of one of her hands from under the purple child's robe she wore. The gesture instantly shot forth a small lance of Force lightning from her fingertips intended for Amare's face. The Nautolan almost flinched as the electric assault instead coiled and fizzled harmlessly into Amare's pillar of light.

"Ohhh! More than a torch," Alyndra smirked with approval. "Still, I wouldn't try that trick versus a blaster. Best not to quit your lightsaber training."

"Not fair!" the Sith girl pouted with an angry stomp of a foot. "I hate you! I want to make magic fire too!"

"Someday you shall, my little sister, and so much more," Alyndra promised her, emphasizing "little" on purpose, and released the girl's hand. "Now, go and make amends before she invokes the rite of vengeance upon you."

The child sighed, "Do I have to? She's weird looking. She should be in the slave pens with the rest of the rabble."

Amare scornfully narrowed her eyes on the child whom she now came to despise, a small flare of wrath triggering her dark orbs to makes the swirls in them start to turn a dull yellow again. "I am no one's slave, girl," Amare stated with a scathing hint of ire. If it was anyone but a misguided child who said those words, she likely would have committed violence right then and there. "Come here. Let me see you."

"Do as she says," Alyndra sternly affirmed.

The girl let her shoulders slump forward, and she reluctantly plodded over to Amare and glared up at her. She started to sniff the air and scrunched her face to an expression of disgust, and pinched her tiny nose. "Eww! You smell like fish. Are you a fish?"

Amare crouched down to meet the girl at eye-level and shook her head, doing her best not to lose her patience with the child, reminding herself that she was dealing with a natural born Sith that was clearly spoiled and had no discipline. As for the smell, Amare never lapsed on personal hygiene, except when it couldn't be helped like on Lorrd. She knew Nautolans may have smelled a bit like sea salt to some outsider species, but her kind only smelled like fish when catching them to sell at the market, or preparing fish for a meal. "No, I'm a Nautolan, and a Sith apprentice."

"Hmph! You don't look like a Sith," the girl said arrogantly with her hands on her hips appearing offended. "Father says fish come from Alderaan and that they taste good when cooked. I command you to teach me how to make magic hand fire. You could be my first sacrifice to the Force! I'd make all the dumb boys so jealous. The Academy would make me the youngest Sith Lady ever! I would be soooo popular!"

Amare's anger obliterated her tolerance, and she lashed out against her better judgment. When the fierce slap struck across the girl's face, however, Amare felt it at the exact same instant, and on the same cheek as well. Her head turned the other way from the vicious feminine strike, shocked at the reflected stinging contact, and glanced up at Alyndra who simply stood motionless, narrowing her eyes at the child instead.

Amare lowered her gaze once more to see what was no longer a Sith girl, but rather...herself.

"I'm s-sorry, Capo! Please don't tell mama! I won't do it again." It was Zaracoda Wolph as a frightened seven year-old Nautolan being bullied by her older brother.

"Yuh stupid girl..." Amare said flatly, monotone, as she recited her brother's words from that day without fail or emotion. Her face became streaked with tears just as her old self did when Capalfin "Capo" Wolph hit her for the first time for what she thought was an innocent mistake. "If me nuh been there, you woulda been dead. Yuh here me? Damned little rass. Notin' but trouble since..." Amare paused and shook her head, speaking her own words now. "No...no Zara, don't cry. Don't be afraid. I'm...I'm your friend. I'm...like a sister you never had. I'll never let him hurt you. Never again."

The child Zaracoda, filled with apprehension and sadness in her wide black eyes, saw Amare for the first time, and threw her little arms and all her innocent trust around her as best she could. Amare returned the hug and was overcome with an ominous sense of déjà vu. This tender moment, this encounter...it was from a dream she once had. Surrounded by an endless abyss of darkness, and out of it came a kind and beautiful Nautolan woman saving her from Capo's slaps and verbal abuse for at least one sad night. Amare was astounded knowing that the loving woman in the dream was actually her future--now current--self all along.

"My name is Amare," she whispered to Zara as her glowing hand lost its light. "I will always protect you. Don't ever be afraid of the darkness. It will keep you safe, and you'll grow up and become a smart young lady and have wonderful adventures with a handsome young Lord someday. He will test you, and teach you about the Force, and make you very strong. I promise."

Half of what Amare said to her younger self was spoken purely on faith. Thane had only barely touched upon the basics of the Force with her, and had yet to properly teach her how to use a lightsaber, but she did pass his extreme tests thus far, and she did feel stronger and more confident now than the night she left Nar Shaddaa. Though, much to her chagrin, she recognized that most of those gains came from her own true grit, a lot of help from the Force, and a few sprinkles of extraordinarily dumb luck. She also had to admit that Bomoor had a hand in what little training she had so far, but his teaching style wasn't particularly helpful. The Ithorian had made her feel more like a hopeless failure than a promising student. She knew better about herself now, and she was determined to surpass him through the knowledge of the Sith. She looked forward to the day when the learner would become the master.

And then, just like that, the little Nautolan girl that she held tight became thin as air, and was gone in an instant. Amare was staring at her empty hands, having not realized that the draining flame had winked out from her hand, her compassion having extinguished its fury-driven luminescence. She tried to will the flame back to life, and took deep, yet shaky breath, fighting back her sobs, but the darkness refused to rekindle her light.

"Aww!" Alyndra mocked the tender moment. "Do you need a hankie to wipe the wawa from your pretty little face? Hahahaha! Your power betrays you! As you can see, kindness is weakness."

Amare took a moment to raise her scowling gaze up from the floor to the ancient Sith apprentice. She rose up to her feet and immediately drew and flicked on her primary lightsaber, its golden shine taking the place of her conjured Force torch.

"Oh my! You're taking this a bit too personal..." Alyndra said with a feigned look of concern, and then gestured out with a hand and snatched free Amare's shoto from her belt. When it reached the Sith's undead hand, however, she did not grip it, nor did it ignite. It simply hovered in place an inch above her open palm while she grinned tauntingly at the Nautolan. "...don't you think?"

"Give that back!" Amare shouted at her.

"Hmm, a novel design," Alyndra remarked as she examined the shiny chrome hilt. "The angled finger grooves and textured grip are smart additions. There's no way you could have constructed this. It's far beyond you."

"I said give it back!" Amare repeated through her grinding teeth as she reached out to pull it with the Force. Her pull, however, was deflected and countered with a dismissive wave of a hand from the Sith causing Amare to stumble back with surprise, nearly losing her footing.

"What are you going to do, hm?" Alynda sneered with an amused chuckle. "Kill me? Don't be an idiot. You can't kill what's already dead. I stand here because you wanted me to."

"What? You liar! Why would I--"

"You know, you really should consider replacing or taming the crystal," Alyndra sharply cut in. "It is utterly repulsed by you, and it will betray you if you're not careful. And as for that bratty little girl I called my sister, that was my version of father's Amare, the stillborn baby he told you about. I've had a very long time to imagine what she would have been like had she lived and grown up a little. I made the illusion of her act like that to mock our dear father, and to show you how base and irrational the nobility of my kind was in those times. Father was no doubt going to favour his Amare, shower her with all his care and attention because she was going to be born with far more power than I had. When mother became pregnant, father pushed himself to obsessive extremes to complete the azoth just for the expected child. He used to record in his journals how his Amare was going to become the first true Sith goddess, and that he would make the entire Empire bow down and worship her. What a fool. The babe was not worthy of the name Amare. I wonder if you are."

"Did she die before you?" Amare asked with a bit more calm, but with her weapon still active and ready to strike.

"No," Alyndra replied with quiet revulsion of her father's brutal betrayal. "What was left of me was stewing in that bloody pool for over a year before her short-lived arrival. It pleased me greatly to see that the Force had other plans and robbed father of his newborn future 'deity' by making him watch as she burned in his hands, and stripped mother of her life as well. Then the failure of Darth Archonus was complete when the Force, after thousands of years, produced a new Amare who came all the way to this wretched place to end up stealing father's greatest work of alchemy from him. I helped you fight him because I sensed you were worthy when I saw this."

She held out the shoto hovering above her ghostly palm, offering it to Amare whom promptly took it back.

Amare put both weapons on safe and carefully fastened them at her side with extra attention on the shoto's belt clip. She then felt a stirring from within, and could feel a gentle flow of endorphins tickle up the length of her spine and on to her brain. She bit her lips to muffle the soft embarrassing moan that threatened to escape her lips. The deep feelings she was experiencing since the bonding were good, almost too good, and she wondered with nervous concern what exactly the azoth was doing to her on the inside.

"Amare," Alyndra said with a knowing smile as she said the name, "my family's legacy is upon you now. It felt wonderful when it bound itself to you, did it not?"

The Nautolan couldn't help but nod in agreement. "It was..." she stopped as sje felt a strange but comforting warmth in her abdomen that prompted her to place a guarding hand on it, and then sensed the warmth shift to her thighs and down to her toes, and back up again. "...is the best feeling I've ever had. It's amazing, but...kind of scary to be honest. I'm afraid what it might do to me next."

"Toss away your fears; a father made it as a gift for his daughter. Only good can come of it. Even now, I can feel it dancing through you, realigning your aura, opening you to the Force with greater ease. It cured the terentatek's poison, mended your wounds, and now it is gradually setting in your bones. Interesting how you formed the chrysalis so easily. It nearly killed me each time I made the attempt. I devoted years of my life trying to do what you did in minutes. I envy your accomplishment. You know, father never tested it on anyone except humans and Sith like me. Who knows what it may do to a Nautolan. A pity I won't be around to see it. But before you go, just tell me one thing: how did you do it?"

"Do what? Take the azoth?"

"No. How did you kill a Jedi?"

The answer took Amare aback. "H-how did you--?"

"Murder is murder, but slaying a Jedi marks a person like no other life taken in the galaxy. I can see it on you. I bet I could smell it too were I still alive. You cannot fool me. You took that little lightsaber from a dead Jedi, didn't you?"

After a short pause, Amare sighed and nodded her head, gazing with a guilt-ridden expression at the floor. "A padawan."

"Still a Jedi, nonetheless. Where was its master?"

"Dead."

"How?"

"I lead him into a trap. I played with his feelings by crying and shaming him, and then I ran, pushed a button and watched him die. The padawan saw it happen, but was too late to stop me. She attacked, and almost killed me, but I defeated her by turning something she trusted against her. It's...not the proudest moment of my life. She deserved better...they both did."

"If I could not sense the truth and loathsome regret in your voice, I would have deemed you a liar. Yet here you are, two lightsabers at your side, your hands drenched in Jedi blood, and pride beating in your chest."

"What? Pride? Are you kidding me?!"

"Do these eyes tell you I speak in jest? Don't be a fool like my father. You enjoyed it. Even now, the very thought of what you did is making you feed heavily on the dark side. That is why the azoth gives you pleasure; it responds to the pull of the Dark Force, and it rewards its host for indulging in its power. For an initiate with little training, you did the impossible: killing a Jedi Master, and his padawan, by yourself, with just your mind and your cunning. You are truly a woman after my own heart! In my time, the masters of the Sith Academy would have unleashed violence on each other for the chance to make you their apprentice. You should be proud of what you did. The Jedi are a corruption of the Force. You did the galaxy a favour that day, and brought great honour to your master."

"Thane..." Amare said softly, the name trailing off. She recalled that he was anything but honoured back on Yavin 4 when she told him of the Jedi lives she took. It was only because she found a way to use her weakness and inner goodness to manipulate his feelings for her that Thane spared her life. Yet, even after it happened, she felt no grudge towards him. She, in fact, cared about him even more.

Once again, Archonus' final question came back to the forefront of her thoughts.

"Go to him then," Alyndra stood aside. "I have wasted enough of your time. Still...I've not had conversation like this in...too long. You may leave knowing that you avenged me and the other apprentices. For that, you have our eternal support."

Amare nodded silently to her, and started to walk past with G2's bits on the grav sled in tow.

"Just...one more thing," Alyndra said, almost pleading in tone. "If father's ridiculous ideas of the azoth leading to godhood do somehow come true, which I doubt, then...I would not mind a few more years of life again. Would you do that for me? I would give and do anything in return just to smell, taste, feel...to just be free again."

"To be free..." Amare echoed, staring one last time at the progeny of Archonus. The thought of becoming a magnificent being of supreme power did not discomfort her. However, she also didn't want to dwell on pointless fantasies. She knew the realities of life. No one should ever have that much power, and if they did, she wondered if it was right for them to use that power over others. Amare thought she would only use such power to protect the ones she loved, and even then she wondered if that was right. "...Freedom is the dream of all Sith, is it not?"

She turned away choosing not to wait for an answer, nor expecting one, and silently took her leave. Her subconscious desire to speak with the long-dead Sith woman had come to an end.

Alyndra, her image gradually fading to flecks of burning embers and dust, watched the first Sith apprentice in a millennium reach the end of the passage, and onwards into XoXaan's temple. She wondered how far this new, true Amare would go, or if the Sith could ever rise again in part through a Nautolan of all creatures. Still, there was a chance, and it was better than nothing at all.

"Glory to you...my sister," Alyndra whispered just before oblivion took her away forever.

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