The Magician's Apprentice

Posted on Tue Oct 15th, 2019 @ 3:17am by Amare & Thane & Kalen "Rex" Vickers

5,708 words; about a 29 minute read

Chapter: Chapter V: Unbound
Location: Medbay, Red Raptor
Timeline: Night, Day 4 (Several hours after departing Korriban), follows "Links to the Past, Parts I & II"

ON:

The gentle whirring and occasional digital buzzing of scientific instruments carrying about either their assigned objectives or the cycling standby modes they entered was nearly the only noise in the Red Raptor's medical bay. With the vessel having left Korriban and the Horuset system some hours before, traveling at hyperspace without halt thus far, the ship's internal systems had entered a 'night mode', in light of its passengers recent hardships, and the primary lighting within the medical bay was inactive.

The faint light of a few active terminals and their associated diodes cast an ethereal glow across the part-time laboratory, sporadic readings sometimes flitting across the monitors with status updates of the instruments and of the two figures currently resting within. One, Amare, was sleeping noiselessly on the main biobed, whilst the other, a Human from Tatooine, was reclined in a chair, his arm in a sling and numerous bacta patches affixed across his face body.

Despite his injuries, Rex Vickers had only accepted treatment sometime after their initial departure from the Sith tombworld, preferring initially to get some rest - and distance himself from some of the alarming characters he now found himself in company with. Unlike the Nautolan, however, he was now no longer asleep, some noise elsewhere in the ship, or perhaps the pain in his arm, startling him awake once more.

For a moment, having just awoken with a start in the darkness, he was certain he saw horns and crimson skin skitter across his field of view, but he quickly dismissed it, courtesy of his delirium brought about by both his exhaustion and injuries, but it did nothing to calm the palpitations threatened to break through his battered rib cage.

He rubbed his eyes with calloused, sore fingers, finding all parts of him dry and weary, especially after his interrupted dozing. Finally, with a bit of adjustment, his vision cleared enough for him to make out his surroundings a little better, and more of the day's memories came back to him - starting with the crash-landing of his own ship.

Rex held back a mournful groan as he recollected the loss - the temporary loss, he reminded himself aggressively - of the Janna, as well as the ridiculous showdown with various lightsaber-toting, magic-wielding wizards some hours later. Not for the first time, his head now cupped in one hand, he wondered at how remarkably his luck had turned on him. What had once been a saving grace, his golden krayt egg, had resulted in him losing his pride and joy, and got both him and Reave shacked up with religious lunatics - people with the power to snap necks with their minds!

"That droyk Mantis," he hiss-whispered to himself, just about managing to slide himself off of his chair without yelping in pain. With a few lumbering, but still quiet, steps, he brought himself over to the main table against the side wall, and squinted in the relative darkness, looking for any stims or patches left lying about that he might use, either to numb his pain or his mind. Given the ship's inhabitants were stuck with using that holodroid of theirs, the less-attentive, non-medically-trained crew were (he hoped, if they were anything like him) prone to leaving kit disorganised.

Just as he was about to give up, his eyes lit up, and joy washed over him as he spotted his quarry on the corner of a surgical tray. His excitement perhaps getting the better of him, he reached out rapidly and clumsily, knocking the tray straight off of the side of the counter and straight into the hard surface of the medbay's floor. The stim and all of the surgical instruments clattered noisily on the floor, the various objects scattering all about the place, making Rex curse as his desired stim rolled under Amare's bed.

There was a slight groan from the young Nautolan woman as she was startled from her sleep, her hand under her bedsheet instinctively grasping her shoto, but loosening as she saw who was fumbling with the medical goods.

"Ugh, watch what you're doing," she said quietly in irritation as she winced from a strong ringing in her auditory canals. "There's only room for one clumsy dolt on this ship, and I've already taken the job." She huffed a breath of discontent and turned her face slightly away from Rex, her mind still sorting out everything she saw and felt from her earlier telepathic link with her mother, Zenarrah.

Rex had initially frozen in fright at the Nautolan's words. Although she had been injured in much the same manner as he during the fight on Korriban's surface, clearly being the junior of the Force-using cabals clashing with one another, he had still seen her wield an energy blade and powers far beyond his scope of understanding or comfort zone.

"Sorry, darlin'!" He wheezed, calming down at the sulky tone of the Sith apprentice, which had quickly tempered his initial panic at Amare's words. "I, uhh... Well, y'know. Same as you, I'm guessin'."

Rex brought himself back to as full of a height as he could manage with his injuries, and aimlessly scratched at an itchy bacta patch around his waist that he dislodged in the process. "Looks to be that we've both had a bit of a hard run of it, huh?" He said, some of his nervousness giving way to a more confident, conversational tone as he tried to bridge the gap with the sad Nautolan. "I'm Rex, by the way. Captain Rex Vickers, at your service, ma'am." He extended a scuffed hand towards Amare, even though she was still mostly facing away from him on her bed, the man clearly not willing to accept Amare's grumpy dismissal just yet. "An' the way I look at it, we dolts gotta stick together, right?" He tried a wide smile. "Safety in numbers, and all that."

He did not make mention of what he had overheard from the other Human man and Nautolan woman earlier in the day back in the cockpit, however. His fear of those two characters, especially after that Thane's less-than-subtle threat, was still pronounced enough to preclude some topics of conversation. If he had his way, misunderstood Nautolan girl or otherwise, he would not be on the Red Raptor for long. And, if Mentis had any sense, he would see it his way, too.

And get me my kriffin' ship back!

After turning to look up the dusky-skinned human, tall and suave and unshaven that he was, she glanced down at his offered hand, and gazed up at his eyes. "Amare," she softly answered as her own hand made no move to accept greeting. It hadn't occurred to her to give her legal name; Zaracoda Wolph no longer had any meaning for her. Who she was, what she used to be before she discovered her new powers all seemed like a fluke, a long string of embarrassing memories that belong to another idiot that was best left forgotten by all. "You were on the surface," she noted in a matter-of-fact tone, turning her face from him again, but keeping him just within the edge of her peripheral vision. "Crashed your ship, yes?" She turned back to him with narrowed, accusatory eyes, the hand closest to her shoto tensing to snap up and attack with the weapon in an instant. "Were you and your friends following us?"

"Uhh... yeah," Rex finally mumbled, his voice becoming more deflated as he looked awkwardly at his ignored proferred hand, which he withdrew uncomfortably late, bringing around to rub the back of his hand in nervous contemplation. "Somethin' like that. Mantis, the bald, pale dude that hitched a ride with me... I owed him, you see, for services rendered. He was runnin' from that crazy-ass band of wiz-" He caught himself as he was about to be dismissive, raising his hand to his mouth as he pretended to cough and clear his throat. "Ahem, sorry. That, uhh... group of murderers that are after you. He had this mad idea that guys could help him!"

Rex scoffed as he said it, and then quickly caught himself once more, realising who his audience was, having now established she was not going to be a weak, friendlier link in the Red Raptor chain. "Or, uhh, help you, y'know. Or somethin'. All I really know right now is that he owes me my ship." He tugged his injured arm up. "And compensation!"

For a moment, Amare's face seemed to relax, as did her shoto hand, and she started to struggle to push herself upright to sit up from the medical bed.

"You...you're afraid, aren't you?" she said with a slight tilt of her head to one side, a delicate slender tendril sliding off her shoulder as she did so. With a muffled grunt, she rotated her legs to dangle off the side of the bed, a small measure of throbbing pain returning to her wounded leg. Seated at the edge, she grinned slightly upon seeing Rex take a nervous, half-step back away from her. "Yes, I can feel it! I've never felt it quite like this before. No one has ever truly been afraid of me, not since that woman I killed on Sheva. I'll never forget the look in her eyes when she expired. Human eyes are so...beautiful at the end. No more cruel intentions or innuendos; just their last truth."

"Uhh... eh... heheh..." Rex began to giggle nervously, taking a few ginger steps back. Innately, his eyes scanned the medical bay for anything with sharp edges, or anything within reach, blunt and heavy enough that he would be able to successfully swing it at the mad-eyed Nautolan he had mistakenly tried to give the benefit of the doubt on this ship of crazies. He cursed both Mentis and Rex within his head as he inched closer to the door, now raising his hands semi-defensively. Mentis he cursed for bringing him here in the first instance, whilst he blamed Reave for taking his blaster, Cindra, off into his new hidey-hole for maintenance.

With his attention not deviating from the murderous witch, her former visage of innocence and self-deprecation having given way to this menacing creature now dissecting him with her twisted aquatic eyes, Rex did not register the medbay hatch opening, Amare's aura of gloom seeming to absorb and dominate his other senses.

In the doorway, much like his arrival earlier in the day when the Raptor had first departed Korriban, now stood Amare's master. Keeping to the shadows for the moment, the night-cycle lighting of the vessel not betraying his arrival too overtly from the corridor, Thane withdrew within the Force to further minimise his presence, electing to observe the peculiar scenario developing before him.

Amare, unaware of Thane's arrival as her focus was completely on Rex, planted her bare feet on the cold floor, but couldn't feel the chill from the metal so much as she could feel a tingling warmth from deep within, building from her chest, and radiating out to her limbs. Rising somewhat awkwardly on her feet, careful to put the weight on her healthy leg, she reached her hand out a few feet from Rex's face, her visual focus on his throat. "How did Nala do it, I wonder? I think she..." her words trailed as she started to slowly curl her fingers towards her palm, trying to reach out to Rex's throat with the Force. "...Ah, I can feel your skin...and a pulse! It's getting faster. Try to hold still, please. I'll try not to hurt you." She started to tighten her partial grip, finding the act much more difficult than she anticipated. As a result, the effect was minimal, creating only small skin dents on the sides of Rex's neck. "Do you have a family?" she asked casually as she continued to gently ply her power on Rex, probing and pressing at random, as if teasing her prey before the final killing strike. "A life-mate? Younglings that call you 'father'? Do you pray to a deity? Do you fear death, Mister Rex?"

Rex's eyes grew wider and more desperate, and his hands, even the one attached to his broken arm, swung up rapidly to clasp his throat, determined to protect himself from another telekinetic assault on his airways. He had only been mere days since he had had any true interactions with Jedi and their various insane sects, and he had already had them magically grasp out at his neck twice. Twice!

He needed to get out of this room. He needed to get off of this ship.

"Y-you don't need to d-d-do this!" Rex stammered, but he was frozen on the spot, panic gripping his body more tightly than Amare was beginning to around his throat. Perspiration was already beading at his hairline and neck, and his limbs were beginning to shudder from fear. The invisible noose grew tighter, pressing more deeply into his trachea. It was not yet enough to restrict his breathing from pressure, but enough to make him wheeze a few light and scratching coughs. "P-pleas-"

"Release him." Thane spoke plainly and without emotion as he now stepped fully into view, planting himself beside the other Human, who now actually looked at him with a feeling that he had never anticipated experiencing: hope.

Rex's pleading eyes flittered back to Amare and he nodded rapidly, encouraging the Nautolan to obey Thane.

It took Amare a few seconds to obey as her grip wasn't loosed instantly, but eased steadily. Her fingers felt sore, the joints on the verge of locking up. She had been pressing with all her might, but she couldn't quite make it work as easily as Nala had displayed. And even if Amare had succeeded, there was the additional work of lifting the subject off the floor.

"My master," Amare humbly greeted Thane...no, this wasn't the gentleman's visage, it was Serus. She felt a cold, yet thrilling comfort to sense her true master had come to visit, her Sith Lord that gave her life meaning and purpose as his apprentice. She bowed her head and promptly lowered her hand in acquiescence to his presence. Fun time was over.

Rex gasped desperately for air. Even if he had only been briefly starved of it, he now sucked in the recirculated air of the Red Raptor greedily, rubbing roughly at his neck with his hands, coughing occasionally. "You... you people," he said between spits, wiping his arm across his mouth to clear away spittle, "are karkin' mad!" His dark panicked eyes spun over to Thane quickly, and although the man had possibly just saved him from a pointless death in the world's smallest medbay, he did not feel as though the pale Human had done him any sort of favour. Whatever bad feeling he got off of Amare, it was almost doubly as bad with her 'master'. Just being in the room with him made him feel colder, and he barely fought off a shiver.

Not wasting any more time or giving anyone else the chance to exploit his lack of magical powers, Rex spun on his heel and almost leapt in fright as he caught Thane's arm. Although the younger man was also shorter than him by a couple of inches, the robed menace glared at him in such a way it managed to make him feel insignificantly small. He was pleased when Thane said nothing to him in response, and continued in his haphazard retreat from the room.

Thane maintained his silence for the moment, his attention now set firmly back on his apprentice. Unlike earlier, he no longer had the appearance of someone who had gone through four days of strife and conflict. He bore no outward signs of his battle with the Kaleesh on the mountainside and his eyes were bright, blue and alert, and his hair was swept across neatly. The Nautolan's Sith master had shed his heavy black greatcoat and travelling equipment in favour of some form fitting grey robes that were designed as under-robes in the Jedi fashion, a holdover from his former career, and he was wearing brightly-polished boots, no scuffs apparent on their fine, sturdy leather.

"What were you seeking to achieve?" Thane asked evenly, the switch for the medbay's lighting being silently activated by his imperceptible use of the Force, unaccompanied by any gesture or glance.

Amare, still on her feet, cradled her sore hand in the palm of her other good hand, and gazed longingly into Thane's eyes. She could have swore she had seen the look of Serus in them seconds ago, but her lord had figuratively donned his princely mask again. Handsome, for a human, as always, but she preferred when his eyes were aflame with molten gold.

"Do you recall the thieves that ambushed us on Sheva?" she asked him as she winced upon mistakenly applying weight to her injured leg. "This Rex reminded me of them. Disingenuous, opportunistic, always working some kind of angle. I've met his kind far too often on Nar Shaddaa. Self-serving krinpaa. And besides," she concluded as she gingerly sat back down on the bed with a whispered "ow" as she settled on the edge again, "he was making a mess of things in here. Boundaries needed to be set, and I wanted to see if I could use the same power the witch used on me. I failed."

Her master nodded slowly, listening carefully and digesting Amare's words. His face did not betray any hint of pleasure or disdain at her description, and he seemed altogether more at ease with both himself and the universe around them than compared to when they had first step foot on Korriban, just days before. It was a subtle shift in his usual demeanour, but one that spoke volumes to those closer to the man. Something on Korriban had resulted in some cosmic reconfiguration within the Human and, in turn, a indistinct, recondite realignment of the Force.

The return of the Sith, perhaps.

"Darth Bane proclaimed, on the killing of innocents," Thane paraphrased the fallen Dark Lord's edict, "that it is not the mission of the Sith to bring death upon those unfit to live, for we serve our own purpose; we strive for the rise and preservation of the Sith. We must work to grow our power with our actions. You brought to bear your dark majesty upon our guest to divine a technique that will bring you power, but be mindful of those you inflict yourself upon."

The Caanan glanced back towards the medbay's hatch, as if looking through the Raptor's walls. "I sense that Captain Vickers may yet have a further part to play in our destiny, as maladroit as he may be. Already, through bringing the Rattataki to us - who saved you - he has proven himself a servant of the dark side, of a manner." He now looked back to his apprentice and took a single step forward. "But be wary of those who would learn the truth of us. Of our lineage."

"I understand, master," Amare replied, gazing up at a man who seemed far more in control of himself than the conflicted ex-Jedi who tossed her about with reckless abandon on Yavin 4. She nevertheless dared not underestimate him. If anything, he seemed just as capable of doing so again with greater force and ease. "His craven nature could be molded to suit us," she added, mentally wishing Thane would sit down beside her. "I shall be more...accommodating with our guests from here out. I would have much preferred to test my powers on that Nala instead. She made it look so easy. I want to humiliate her so bad for what she did, and not just for choking me, but also destroying your lightsaber that I worked so hard to rebuild. That kriffing witch! Zenarrah told me she thinks that Nala is my mirror in the Force. She thinks fate is deciding which of us is worthy of being your apprentice, that it cannot be coincidence that Nala and I are of the same species. We even look the same age. What do you think, master? Is it true? Does the Force do such wicked things to decide the worthy and unworthy?"

Thane considered his apprentice's question, not answering it immediately and pausing to appropriately interrogate his thoughts on the matter. Bería had asked him similar questions during her brief time on the Red Raptor (already dwarfed in both time and enthusiasm by his current, superior and genuine apprentice), querying the nature of the Force in her own infantile way. Indeed, he and Bomoor, and by extension, Masters Sotah and Thurius, had engaged in lengthy debate over the subject, dissecting the lore and understanding of the Jedi and other established - and Reborn Order-approved - Forcely groups.

There had not always been any agreement, and certainly no firm answers. Thane's own view on the Force and means of interpreting it had, of course, developed since his communion with the dark side and newfound devotion to the Sith. Amare would have to find her own path to knowledge and mastery, but he would impart what he could.

"I would be speaking falsely if I claimed to truly understand the whims and currents of the Force, if they can be truly labelled as such," Thane said, his voice become softer still as he brought himself around to actually sit down, although his posture remained forwards and his expression focused. "My own master spoke at length about the Living Force; an outcast among the Jedi, he eventually found a fellow adherent in our friend Bomoor, and they argue for living in the moment, understanding the interweaving web of the Force within all things about us in this exact moment, material and spiritual, rather than fixating upon possible futures at the expense of the moment, of that which is before you now. Master Sotah would say that those that spend too long fixating upon what may happen, you would find yourself lost in what is happening. More often than not, he maintained that that would be horrors of yesteryear. More often than not, he maintained that that is the troubling hypocrisy Master Quellus and the Jedi Council spearhead for my former comrades."

Thane's eyes cast down to the floor of the medbay, quickly examining each of the cluttered utensils Rex had scattered across the formerly-ordered chamber. He imagined Morgo Le'Shaad shuddering in some far off laboratory at the unseen chaos in her former domain, her judgemental eyes cast disparagingly over him and his favoured student.

"It is not a simple concept to grasp, and an even harder one to embroil yourself within," he carried on, picturing the kindly Selkath within his mind's eye. "After almost two decades of Jedi tutelage, I do not find myself adopting a single and certain philosophy of how the Force truly operates. I have faith in how I perceive the Force, through my interactions and my senses, as I understand them. It is, undoubtedly, a 'force' of nature, for lack of a better phrase, that permeates all things at once, in some capacity. It may appear to have a will or seem to pursue some redressing of the galactic balance, but so much is cyclical and beyond mortal comprehension that I would not deign to make any assumption about that. However, it does seem to resist the meddling of aggressive, ravenous spirits, such as mine - something I have become more keenly aware of since I have taken the darkness within me."

Bringing his left hand up before him, ungloved and with its pale, healed flesh exposed to the artificial lighting of Amare's temporary residence, Thane summoned sparks of blue-white lightning to dance across his fingertips - now an effortless display, compared to the great exertion it had once been, not too far in the distant past. "It seems to me that, even if the Force has some will or natural structure that it desires to maintain the form of in our mundane realm, it must be overcome by those with the desire and power to do so. It must be made a beast of burden, forced to answer to one's will. The universe is bent to our design, for we are singularities, not mere placid stars upon an endless void."

With the power still spreading over his digits, the Sith Lord now turned to look directly at Amare, his gaze intense but without aggression or malice, but he did not yet invite a response from the Nautolan. "Do not pay heed to the prophecies or forebodings of witches and heralds," he warned, "for each of these beings believes they have divined a truth within the Force that must be adhered to or combated. There is only one truth you need consider, now, as you rise far above their petty considerations and menial understandings: yourself. Make that truth the truth, for all beings, for you are Amare - you are Sith." He paused for a second, holding her intent gaze. "So, tell me, apprentice: are you unworthy; has the Force dictated that you are as such?"

Amare took a long and heavy breath before she replied, "I want to be worthy more than anything. Zen..." she stopped herself and sighed before resigning to her truth, wondering if Thane was already keenly aware given his power and experience, "...mother revealed much of her past to me."

Amare shared with Thane some of the things she learned from her mind-link with Zen from earlier. She explained to Thane what little she learned about her heritage as a descendant of the noble clan So'Quon, historically known for having taken part in defeating the Anselmi savages on Glee Anselm many thousands of years ago, and were instrumental in advancing Nautolan supremacy on that world. The So'Quon were gifted advisors, inventors, and artists, but never rulers. For unknown reasons lost to history, however, the So'Quon clan fell into disgrace, and later became commoners, the servile Sozo brood.

"She said that I will never be a worthy apprentice to you unless I am worthy of my blood," Amare concluded. "She wouldn't tell me what that meant, only that when the time came, the Force would show me the way, and that I must embrace the truth. To say that that does not frighten me would be a lie, but..." With a muffled grunt of pain, she started to rise up again from the bed to reach for the adjacent computer console that was monitoring her condition. "...that is not all that concerns me, master. Useless finished his tests on me. He found this."

On the monitor for Thane to see were two sets of full spectrum head-to-toe scans displayed side-by-side. One was a scan of Amare following her injuries sustained on Yavin 4, the other was earlier after escaping Korriban. The Yavin scan showed her internal anatomy that was within normal expectations for a Nautolan female of her age, but the other showed a skeleton that was glowing.

"I've changed," she said calmly, the barest hint of a smile showing. "This is the azoth; a gift of alchemy from Korriban. It saved my life. You can see there that my kind have an array of separate hearts; the poison from the terentatek stopped all except one. Trust me, master, don't ever have a heart attack. It's not like getting beat up at all; it's much worse. It's the kind of pain I'll never forget."

Thane raised an eyebrow, the barest hint of amusement playing across his face. From his trauma on Jericho to Amare's suffering on Korriban, he wondered how much pain yet awaited the two young Sith. Such as was the way of the dark side, Bane's gatekeeper avatar had informed him. It was developmental; it was a resource from which to develop and endure and advance.

But it was still a hard truth to accept, and Thane was still not yet ready to surrender his conscience to his furies.

"I should be dead now," Amare continued, "but I fell into that dirty pool in the dungeon, and it gave me back my life. Mother said that the Jedi have a secret list of targets around the galaxy; a list of Sith relics they're searching for. Your holocron... I-I mean the holocron of Bane... is near the top of that list. They call it a 'Tier-1 threat'. Some of the relics, she said, are also not entirely solid objects. Some were discarded experiments, like alchemy, or artificial diseases. Certain substances could be considered relics. She says that if one bonds with such a thing like I did, they themselves are considered a living relic. If it cannot be extracted safely, then the Jedi have orders to kill the bonded person. That means I'm a target for them. I'm their enemy now. That's why I'm so concerned about being worthy. Even if we stop the Cult, the Jedi will never tolerate me; not with this in my body. I don't want them to take it from me, master, nor do I wish to die by their hands. I want to be every bit as powerful as they are, and more. I'll do anything it takes. Please, master. Teach me. If coming back from Lorrd or surviving Korriban wasn't enough, then let me earn my worthiness in your eyes. I will succeed where others failed, or die trying." Amare's dark aquatic eyes flashed with a crimson majesty, glinting with a fury that matched her conviction. "I swear it!"

Thane regarded his apprentice with an even expression, although his mouth threatened to turn upwards at the edges to form an approving smile. The girl that had been Zaracoda Wolph had faced her own mortality several times, forced to rely upon her wits and the power of the Force.

No, Thane corrected himself. The power of the dark side.

And it had transformed her, both physically and figuratively, and made her powerful in a comparatively short space of time. The woman Amare had transformed into a remarkable Force adept in a fraction of the time it took Jedi sages to achieve even the barest similarity in prowess, unleashing powers and talents beyond the usual purview of even some of the most gifted Jedi he had known during his time with the Reborn Order. Not only that, and in addition to this azoth she could call upon, she had an uncanny and natural gift for concealing herself within the Force, but without losing her arcane powers to the profane. More, she was devoted to him - to his purpose and his vision.

"Your powers will far outstretch that of any Jedi or mere cultist of chaos," Thane said, allowing the Force to seep into his voice, its timbre growing huskier and lower. "The Force has taken root deep within you, and 'though you are a neophyte to its ways, you held your own ably against a powerful Dark Jedi who has long studied at the feet of a master fabled for his fantastical and sinister powers. The loss of my old lightsaber and your eventual defeat in that duel are unfortunate, but perhaps necessary, lessons in your path to victory. Had a Jedi youngling with your period of training been put up against such an adversary, I've no doubt they'd have been felled within mere moments, slain and no more. Circumstances have forced our hands innumerable times in your short tenure with us, and you have faced insurmountable odds to be stood before me now, resplendent, even in your supposed defeat."

He now rose and faced Amare directly, standing close before her as he continued to speak. "The Republic is sick, plagued from within by the cancer of Quellus' Jedi Order. For months, years, perhaps, I have dwelt on that fact, ruminating on what my part in curing their disease would be. Since uncovering the truth of the Sith, I realise that it must fall to us, to those of us with the vision and tenacity to rectify the wrongs of our fellow sentients, to make the hard decisions the senatorial sycophants fear to make. We will work both from the shadowed corners that civilised beings fear to glance or tread, but also from the halls of power and wisdom, learning, allying and undermining. And when the Cult of Axion and all of its contemptible slaves are utterly annihilated, we will, through wit and might, supplant our foes and expose the weak; we will ascend upon the torrent of inevitable conflict that has long been foreseen by the Jedi, beneficiaries of the Third Republic's imminent suicide. What took Darth Bane's lineage a millennium to achieve, we will do in a lifetime, so sure is my faith in our power - mine and yours." Thane brought both of his hands up now to rest upon either of the Nautolan's upper arms, and he squeezed gently but firmly. "The apprentice of the Lord of the Sith."

Amare made no move to touch him, yet wanted so deeply to show her instinctive feminine yearning to show impassioned affection to her master, but she now had some of her mother's wisdom in her head to hold those impulses in check. She understood that this apprenticeship wasn't merely for the new Dark Lord's benefit, but primarily for her own. The Rule of Two demanded she meet the level of Serus' power, and then exceed it. Nothing less would suffice. Years of tremendous danger and hard painful work had yet to come. What happened if she survived to make it to the end of the road...she would face that moment when she crossed that bridge.

She bowed her head in deference to his authority. "I am ready to begin, my lord."

END

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