Throne of the Apprentice

Posted on Thu Apr 21st, 2022 @ 12:49am by Amare

2,577 words; about a 13 minute read

Chapter: Chapter VI: The Last Bastion
Location: Helios Black Site, Bastion
Timeline: Shortly after Star-CROSSed

ON

“Lady Amare, a few more minutes of your time, please.” Symon Tarses’ request had enough sway to halt the fledgling Sith apprentice’s departure.

Amare turned to the decrepit young human after the reinforced double blast door closed behind Bomoor and Reave as they left for the shuttle hangar. Symon, in her eyes, was both a pitiful sight to behold and a remarkable curio of cybernetic technology. His bald head and arms from shriveled biceps to his wrists were the only portions of visible flesh, and they were nearly white as chalk. The rest of him was encased under EMP-shielded black tinted metal, plasteel, and carbon composite alloys, a roving hover shell with status lights, a biomonitor displaying medical telemetry, and diagnostic connection ports along with one implanted in the back of Symon’s head which plugged his brain into the shell’s systems.

“I could not help but notice your curiosity with the technical aspects of my…condition during our little tour of the place,” Symon remarked with unmoving lips through his synthetic speech vocoder set in his life support shell, his colourless eyes narrowed at his Nautolan guest. “Visual cortex support, bioplastic blood vessels, synth-lungs, tyrosine and kolto injectors were all possible, each stamped with GalactaWerks logos and serial numbers on them. But when they tried to fix my nerves, muscles and bones, all bets were off. With each attempt, my body induced an autoimmune attack triggering rejection of such implants. I’ve died on the operating table a total of four times over the years only to be resuscitated and told I must learn to live with what I have. It became clear to me that the Force does not want me to live as a man my age should.”

“You are convinced that it is the will of the Force?” Amare asked, the curiosity of her inner tech maven piqued. “That it somehow doesn’t want you to move, not even with implants?”

“I am convinced the Force wills everything,” Symon answered with a slow blink of his weary eyes. “But my agents and I have learned a few simple facts of your kind, the Sith. Your Order dares to throw aside submission to the Force, and instead endeavours to make it serve you. I find such audacity…inspiring.”

“If you wish to discuss matters involving the ways of the Sith,” Amare said with a hint of frustration in her tone, anxious to make her exit from the secret facility with her friends post-haste, “you should take it up with my master.” She turned to leave.

“We are both pupils of the Force, my lady, or should I say…Zaracoda Versetto,” Symon said, yet again entrapping his guest’s thoughts and delaying her withdrawal. Upon seeing her turn back to him with a stone-cold killer’s glare, he added, “Oh yes, I’m very much aware of who you are beneath your chosen moniker. The heiress apparent of Jett Versetto’s financial domain standing before me. Did you know your late husband once operated a shell corporation designed to launder and funnel resources to us? It is a company that now languishes in stasis, tied up behind a solid legal firewall that the banks on Corellia have yet been unable to breach. Tell me the Force isn’t behind this. Do you think that any of this is coincidence?”

“How do you—” Amare began to ask, but stopped herself, scoffed and shook her head. “Jett was working for Bastion all along?”

“Not always,” replied Symon. “And not voluntarily. That is the problem with a so-called ‘free society’ built on corporatism; corruption is everywhere, and blackmail is the most valuable currency. We’ve simply learned how to exploit their system and play their games. All of these monitors you see on the walls here, the holo-displays of the Galactic Exchange indices, the intelligence reports, that is my life when the Force has no visions for me, when the CROS suits are switched off. All geared towards our goal of undermining the rot that is the Republic, and opening the way forward…for you. For the Sith.”

“All of this…is for us?” Amare asked in bewilderment. “This entire facility, the CROS project, those clones of you and your team your scientists put in the suits, all of your father’s work…because the Force gave you some visions?”

“Yes,” Symon answered firmly without hesitation. “It is our duty, after all. That uniform you are wearing means so much more than the materials it was crafted from. Bastion, and the legacy of the old Galactic Empire from which it sprang was made possible by a Sith Lord. Does the name Palpatine bear any familiarity with you? Beyond the lies they teach in most Republic schools, that is?”

“It…it does,” Amare answered with some hesitation. She stopped short of revealing her communion with the Telos Holocron and its recordings of Darth Sidious that fascinated Amare, having subtly altered her feelings and perspectives as she was drawn into the mighty dark lord’s wisdom regarding the Force. She recalled Serus’ stern visage masking his feelings of pride as he oversaw her explorations of the holocron, engaging with its Sidious gatekeeper, asking questions that unraveled answers that lead to more questions. They had barely perused the most elementary levels of the holocron’s vast stores of dark knowledge, and yet they both knew their power grew that day and knew there was far more yet to accomplish. “We’ve gone to great lengths to uncover what little remaining of the Sith legacy we could find.”

“No doubt…I am not surprised given how you used your powers to both hinder and help your Ratattaki friend earlier,” Symon recalled his dual with Mentis by proxy through his remote-controlled prototype CROS suit. “I sense, or rather, I know you are capable of so much more. Observe…”

An overhead holo-projector displayed in front of them a deeply personal moment that Amare instantly recognized.

“It’s me…that’s my recording when I…I, um…when I…”

“Changed?” Symon attempted to fill in for her.

“Died,” Amare corrected him grimly, her face marked heavily with anxiety and anticipation.

Symon gave her a blank stare, not having expected such an answer. They saw Amare seated on her knees, meditating, then suddenly snapping up to her feet in frustration. “Why isn’t this working? I must be doing something wrong. Maybe some special ancient words or a ritual I have to perform. Maybe…maybe I just need to remember. I’m Sith. Rage…scorn…revenge! I will not be denied what is mine! The chrysalis is mine to control. It is a part of me. It is my power. It is—aaahhhh!”

The image showed Amare falling to her knees and hands, and lifting a hand to chest, wheezing and panting, getting harder and harder to breathe by the second. Watching the recording of herself made Amare wince in response to the extreme pain she felt that day, reflexively placing a hand to her chest in response to what she saw. Unlike Korriban where the terentetek’s poison was slowly decimating each of her hearts, the azoth within made her entire body feel like it was being shredded with razor sharp knives blasting out of her skin from the inside out all at once. In the recording, Amare saw what she couldn’t see at the time: a chunky dark shell forming out from under her skin from head to toe. She went from a living being lurching back from unbridled agony to a rough bioorganic statue in mere seconds.

“The recording continues to show you like this, trapped in some kind of cocoon for a little while until it auto-shutdown to consider power,” Symon explained.

“I obeyed my master’s will,” Amare said seemingly more to herself than to her host, her voice shaking with emotion at what she saw. “I…I formed the chrysalis as he commanded, but not as I wanted. I…died for him. It killed me.”

“The timestamp shows recorder turned back on several hours later once its motion-sensor spotted movement again,” Symon mentioned as the playback showed a sudden break in the back of shell. Bright glowing thick semi-transparent liquid began to seep out followed by the appearance of Nautolan head tentacles shifting and waving as if restless snakes desperate to spring free and attack. More and more of the liquid began to drain from the statue as Amare herself could be seen lazily and gently being pulled out from it, appearing nude and smaller and less developed than normal, curled up in a fetal position. It was a part of the process Amare couldn’t remember as she watched as the liquid rise up with stretching up towards the ceiling, forming a wide slimy attachment there, and a narrow stem-like connection to the floor with the bulk locked in the middle where Amare floated within.

“I don’t understand,” Amare said in astonishment as walked up close to the holo-image. “I look different there…younger even. My scars are all gone.”

“By the time we found your ship, we found you as you are now,” Symon explained. “If you are so sure you died forming this chrysalis of yours, then the evidence would suggest that you were reborn. I’m not a scientist, but I know enough that this isn’t normal for your species, is it?”

Amare shook her head almost imperceptibly as she reached a hand out towards the projected scene showing her shifting from her fetal position to crossing her arms over chest, hands on her shoulders, head tilted back, legs crossed in an almost seated position, as if subconsciously attempting to preserve her modesty whilst being seated on an imaginary throne. She smiled with delight and pride having achieved the next step in her growth as a Sith…or perhaps something even greater.

“We tested the remains of the cocoon you hatched out of,” Symon revealed. “The DNA was fragmented and eventually disintegrated to useless bits of carbon, but it was you along with the clothing you wore from what initial scan found. There is nothing in our data archives to suggest this as a natural ability among Nautolans, and certainly not what we traditionally know about the Sith or Jedi powers. How did you come upon this ability? Was this something you could always do?”

“I don’t suppose you’ve made copies of this,” Amare said to Symon while holding her gaze on her reborn self with awe, vanity, and pride. She had no intention to elaborate on his questions. A significant Sith secret was now exposed, and it was time to know how widespread the knowledge of her new power was.

“Just one in my father’s possession,” replied Symon. “Now likely sealed and classified to prevent GalactaWerks from getting their hands on it. Only me, father, and a few trusted researchers know about this. All of the evidence gathered is inconclusive. It seems that just as the Force doesn’t want me to live a normal life, so too did it not want the details of your rebirth to come to light.”

“I can sense how eager you are to learn what happened to me,” Amare noted after the recording ended and the image winked out. “I will say only this as your answer: Korriban.”

“Korriban?” Symon’s eyes widened visibly in shock. “You managed to set foot there? How did you get past the Jedi watchpost?”

The dark apprentice sauntered her way closer to Symon, her hips swaying with her casual pace more effeminately than her usual athletic stride. “They’re dead, commander,” she said in a fiendishly seductive tone as she placed a hand on the metal part of Symon’s pod covering his left shoulder. “They’re all dead. Granted, we had a little help, but all that had transpired was in service to the Sith Order, whether any of them knew it or not.” She withdrew her hand and added, “I would like to thank you for believing in us, for trusting in the Force. We owe you our lives. My master took a big risk coming here as we did. I can only guess you’ve brought us here and gave us provisional ranks because you want something from us.”

“You owe us nothing, my lady,” Symon assured her. “The only things we want are two-fold: the end of the Republic, and the rebirth of the Galactic Empire.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Amare wondered with amusement. “And this…Empire you speak of…who shall be seated upon its throne?”

“The Emperor, of course,” Symon answered.

“And this Emperor, has he or she been chosen yet?”

“That is an answer best left to my father. The length and breadth of my visions ended with your arrival. What happens now is entirely in the hands of you and your Order. For now, you have my sworn loyalty and support. I would kneel to you now if my body was able.”

“Your word shall be your bond then,” Amare nodded. “Just know that I do not hand over my trust easily. Jett Versetto betrayed my trust, and he paid the ultimate price. I like you, Commander Tarses. We among the chosen few of the Force. We can help each other accomplish great things. Perhaps, even someday, I may find a way to heal your body. Would you like that?”

“The offer is…very tempting, but my health is and always will be secondary to the mission,” Symon said knowing that Amare could sense his honesty. “I have seen far too often what happens to those who fail to see the bigger picture. This place, this world, all the people who place their trust in us to protect them, whether it’s the Mandalorians, the Republic, or otherwise, that’s what matters most to me.”

Amare nodded respectfully to Symon, touched and satisfied by Symon’s sense of honour and loyalty. It was refreshing to her. “Then we are in agreement. When time permits, please see to it that a secure copy of this footage is shown to my master. I hide no secrets from him.” That was true for the moment, she thought, but if she was to eventually fulfill her role in the Rule of Two, she would one day need to find some very crucial and very powerful secrets if she ever hoped to stand a chance in a duel to the death with Darth Serus.

“Your will be done,” Symon promised. “One last thing: be weary after leaving this facility. Your shuttle flight will be discreet but know that even amidst the safety of Central Command and the other government offices, you will need to tread carefully. Outside of a select few of our classified projects, GalactaWerks has eyes and ears everywhere. Be on guard and ever vigilant when dealing with them. They are not to be trusted and will be none too pleased to learn that my father has powerful new allies, especially if they are revealed to be Sith. I will be establishing a new secure commlink frequency to you and your companions soon. I will be in touch when it is ready. Good luck.”

“May the Force serve us well,” Amare said before turning to leave.

“May it be as you say, my lady.”

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