A Song of Steel and Family
Posted on Fri Aug 16th, 2024 @ 11:01am by Bomoor Thort & Amare
Edited on on Fri Aug 16th, 2024 @ 11:42am
2,585 words; about a 13 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter VII: Uprooted
Location: Training Room, Red Raptor, in hyperspace
Timeline: Evening, Week Five (After "Palatial Redux")
All was in place before her where she sat in meditation in the ship's training room. Everything from the heavy duty diatium power core to the magnetic stabilizing ring and all in between which was required for the final test to prove Lady Amare's skills as a true and worthy Sith Apprentice.
Most important to the assortment of parts was the housing made of pure songsteel that was destined to become the hilt of a new and formidable lightsaber.
Among the carefully laid out parts was the most key component of all: the Force crystal. The heirloom that passed to her from her Jedi mother, it became Amare's focus as she willed it to mystically float above the training mat and hover in the air before her closed eyes. She psychically connected with it, pushing all her thoughts and feelings through it, and it cycling it all back to her. It began to reflect its absorption of Amare's inner self when it began to ethereally glow softly while its colour changed ever so slightly from its natural amber hue to a subtle tinge of sanguineous scarlet.
The feedback loop was cathartic, at first, but then it began to inflict tangible pain on her mind and parts of her body. Though she did not make a sound or any overt movements, she winced and clenched her teeth in agony as her mind plunged into an abyss of nightmares that exaggerated her memories of the recent past.
As tears began to stream down her face, Amare aborted the link, and the crystal fell to the mat, its glow faded just as the door to the room slid open.
The unmistakable form of her Ithorian crewmate, Bomoor, eased into the room, pausing slightly as he sensed the Nautolan's deep emotional state, before continuing to walk towards her.
"I wanted to see how you were doing with the construction," his voice echoed, muted slightly by the soft padding of the training room that was not present in any of the other converted cargo holds on the ship, "The materials you are working with are not the easiest to combine so don't let it dishearten you. I know patience is not a Sith virtue, but assembling a lightsaber is not a battle to be won by brute force."
He knelt down, spying the tear drops still dotting the woman's aquatic blue cheeks. He let out a slight sigh from his mouths.
"You know, master Sotah used to say it was like carving a statue: you have to imagine the form within the stone before you put a chisel to it. But, once you can see the form within, you simply have to release it from its stone prison."
He held out a palm and summoned up the crystal to his hand, examining it slowly. The colour had returned to its natural yellow, but there was an energy to it that spoke of the emotion that had been recently funnelled into it. He then inquired:
"Perhaps you are in conflict as to what form your statue will take. You have had many different voices pulling you in different directions throughout your young life and into the present but it is not them that chisel the stone and it is not their hilt to construct."
He held out the crystal before Amare, "What does this crystal mean to you? What function will it serve for you? Protector, avenger or just a reminder of where you came from?"
Bomoor's talk of statues trigger a flash of memory in Amare's mind, taking her for a split second back to that dungeon of horrors on Irrikut, where she saw two figurines of herself - one depicting a timid and foolish Zaracoda, the other...the embodiment of triumph and power.
She raised her gaze at the Ithorian, and furrowed her brows at him with sudden deep antipathy. "How about this?" she said with grating ice in her tone as she used a quick telekinetic pull to snatch the crystal into her hand. "You take your little kriffing statue idea and your pretentious Jedi platitudes and shove them in the engine core!" As residual rage flowed through her from her prior connection to the crystal and its amplification of her emotions, she added, "It's now my turn to teach you!"
Amare used her power to levitate herself up in place, shifting midair from a seated position to standing feet planted on the floor and spread evenly in an almost combat-like stance in one smooth motion.
"I have witnessed and survived more living nightmares for the better part of a year than most would see in their lifetimes," Amare said with her scowl deepening on her face. "I sacrificed Jedi, my brother, my sanity, and my blood for you and him. And yet, through it all, do you know what hurts me the most?"
She released her crystal, willing it to hover before her. She then gradually raised her hands in front of her, palms up, and through doing so, all the parts on the floor rose up in response and began to encircle and orbit the crystal as if it were a like a star in a tiny floating model of a messy solar system.
"The sad confused wayward Jedi who kneels before me!" she answered her own question through grinding teeth with utter contempt as the parts began to methodically and firmly come together, bit by intentional bit. The assembly slowly began as her inner and outward rage grew.
"I can sense it in you right now," she added as she closed her eyes and began to outstretch her arms, as if preparing to cast an ominous fell ritual. "You're at war with yourself! The pain...the loathing...the fear. It's so...delightful..." She opened herself to the Force, allowed her spirit to drink its influence, and began to levitate once more about half a foot from the training mat. She drew in a soft breath of pleasure as her lips curled into a wicked smile and she chuckled with gross insidiousness. "Through the teachings of the Sith, I'm beginning to see through you, Bomoor Thort, and the more I spy, the greater my focus becomes!"
The air became almost electric as the crystal started to set in place in its housing, the songsteel hilt moving to protectively encase it as the focus crystal's placement and emitter lens followed.
Bomoor had been at the brunt of Amare's outbursts in the past and he tried to bury the frustration of having her not only reject his advice but then go on to mock his own values.
He stood up, turning quickly away as he felt the bubbles of resentment rise to the surface. He had the sudden thought that he could turn those feelings towards the lightning he had practiced on Irrikut and he visualised the electric strands coursing from his fingers. He then allowed it to drop away, thinking again about their mission ahead to save his mother, his planet and countless innocents from harm. That meant more than the words of a young woman, acting still like the scared child they had found on Nar Shaddaa, screaming at the darkness as she tried desperately to tame it.
Allowing himself a deep intake of breath, the Ithorian kept his voice flat.
"It is foolish to scoff at any wisdom, even the wisdom of your enemies. Do you think your master carries nothing of his time with the Jedi or even your own mother?" he began to walk away, "I have more important preparations to attend to before we get to the Mayagil sector. When you settle down and remember who your allies are, you can help Rex with the descent into Öetrago."
"There is something you're forgetting," Amare called after him. By the time Bomoor noticed, the assembled lightsaber was in Amare's left hand, and she was carefully aligning her crystal with the Force, just as Rift Jedi Master Dakris taught her after she escaped Lorrd. "You mentioned my mother, and soon you'll be going home to your own family. Before we go there, consider this: Did you know my mother--"
Her statement hung unfinished as she pointed the songsteel hilt in Bomoor's direction, and activated the elegant weapon which ignited to life for the first time with a shrill sound that almost echoed the torment that hung like a perpetual hurricane in her body and soul. The blade's golden hue was a gleaming testament to the legacy of Jedi Sentinels of the past.
"--tried to kill me?" she finished, and took a moment to pridefully brandish her weapon and admire its brilliance and proof that her basic skills in the Sith arts were now complete. "It happened during my escape from the Temple on Coruscant. She saw me fighting with Rusasha Lahan who followed me onto mother's ship, a ship that belonged to my true father."
She deactivated the weapon and added, "Zenarrah is so much like you, always tempted to tap into the dark side, and that day, she did, and used it against me. I felt Sith lightning like you wouldn't believe, and she drained my essence, paralyzing me...her own flesh and blood. And yet, in spite of my prior fight with Rusasha, she stood in the way right before mother struck me down. They locked blades. She fought Zenarrah and used her own power to subdue her. I witnessed the light defeat the darkness, and it was beautiful. She saved both me and my mother that day. I'll never forget it."
She stepped forward closer towards Bomoor, "So when you say I dismiss the Jedi ways, on the contrary, I respect them more than you know. I respect you, but I cannot stand this thing you are becoming. When I first met you, I felt a goodness in you like the Lahan woman who defended me. I admired you, wanted to be like you, but now I see the path you are on, and you are not ready for what I have been prepared for. If you give in to that darkness, pray you do not lose control in front of your family...you may regret it if you do."
Bomoor had paused, no longer heading towards the door. He was silent for a moment before allowing himself a dry chuckle that rolled out of his throats. The anger he had felt filtering away.
"And there is the other Amare again," he shook his head slowly, "There is an adult in there so why does she hide behind that mask of immaturity?"
He partially turned back, allowing his eyes to look at the weapon, now constructed into an elegant hilt of songsteel, dimly glistening in the soft light.
"No," he answered her, "I did not know that your mother tried to kill you. I do believe there is a lot I have yet to understand about your family dynamics. In my culture, the family, the herd, is an almost sacred bond. When I left Öetrago, young though I was, it was hard to understand how some people do not have the same powerful instinct to defend ones own family. In fact, some people do terrible things to the ones closest to them; it can become a pattern passed down from parent to child, almost at strong as the instinct of my people to defend."
He rubbed his eye stalk and echoed a weary groan, "I have been conflicted myself of late, with so much conflict and darkness surrounding us. I was so wrong, allowing the Jedi to convince me to betray my friendship to Thane. He is family to me and I put him in danger so everything I do now, whatever powers I use will not be used to harm. They will be used to protect."
He released his hand and turned one beady eye towards the Nautolan, staring with that intensity of hers back at him, before adding, "Perhaps I should not judge your hostility so quickly. Perhaps you only pass on what your mother taught you and her parents taught her. Just remember, that not every family needs to be like that. Perhaps you will see when you are on Öetrago. Not Sith, not Jedi and perhaps not even the Force. Just family."
Amare grinned long enough to draw in a quick breath, then exhaled with a frown, "Family...I'll pass on to you some of that Jedi wisdom you think I've dismissed: don't get attached. You think I'm chaotic and immature? That's nothing compared to what I see brewing in you."
She moved to stride past him towards the door, stopped, and added, "As a child, I once stood alone in the eye of a hurricane. That's what you are right now, the calm within the eye. But the storm always moves, and the wall around the eye is dark and powerful and ruthless when it catches you."
She leaned a bit closer to him, and her tone became low and grim and foreboding, "So, I beg you one last time as I did on Yavin...stay in the eye. If you walk past the wall as I have, the storm may not leave much of what you are now. Think about that when you say hi to mum and dad."
She turned and left Bomoor alone in the room with her words hanging in his thoughts, and the relative silence with only the mild hum of the Red Raptor's active hyperdrive to feed his auditory sense.
Now alone in the training room, Bomoor allowed himself a small chuckle again at the way Amare managed to turn her emotions right around and ended up having the last word somehow. He wondered if she was genuine in her worry about him or if it was merely a projection of her own concerns on the dark road she trod.
There is no 'eye of the hurricane', he reasoned to himself, What is the point of the Jedi or the Sith but to protect that we care about?
As Luke Skywalker taught as he attempted to create a new order from the ruins of the failed First Republic Era Jedi:
Bomoor wanted to protect his family, estranged though they were. He wanted to protect Thane and the miniature family they were building aboard this ship. He would seek to protect those who were being wronged by the evils of this Galaxy: GalactaWerks, Axion, the corruption within the Jedi. He hoped one day to walk back to a Jedi Order free of fearful, power-hungry megalomaniacs and find many of his former colleagues willing to stand with him in making something new.
Master Thurius, Master Sotah, he sighed, If anyone is in the eye of a hurricane, it is you. Don't let them wear you down before I can see you again.
He took a deep breath in, allowing the worries to settle so he could see the task at hand. There was a battle ahead: a chance to begin whittling down the evils in the world just as they had within Bastion Space, using the powers the Force had granted them. He would speak to Amare again after the battle: she would see that attachment does not cause us to lose ourselves. It grounds us in what is important.
RSS Feed