Agony and Sorrow
There was little movement in the darkened interior of the VX-9 Mailoc that Kiekrys (who was named now Apprentice to the Sith Lord Morel) called home.
She had been considering the small blue crystal that was extracted from that Jedi Knight’s saber for some hours, turning over the multifaceted surface of the rock over and over in her fingers. Perhaps glaring at it enough would simply be the ‘meditation’ required to unlock its secrets. She pondered, also, on why she could not merely use it in its current state - after all, those who suspected her would certainly do so less if she ran around with a blue saber, rather than a red one. Then again, they’d likely question how she got it - and try and take it back, too.
So that wouldn’t do. Perhaps the time for deception was over. Maybe a grand announcement of her newfound power should be made, and she could-.
Stop.
Her mind was wandering again, and she found her brow furrowing deeply at her inability to concentrate, especially when concentrating was precisely what needed to be done in this moment.
So, she turned the Kyber crystal over again, and once more, then grasped it tightly in her hand. Squeezing her eyes shut, the young Sith focused on locating the crystal, first. Of course, she knew it was in her hand, but clasped through her fingers, and with her eyes tightly clamped, she couldn’t see it. At least, not with her eyes.
Seeking forth, she sought to locate the crystal itself. It’s aura - belonging to a Jedi Knight before her, the thing practically radiated with the Force. In the dim, utilitarian grey steel hull of the ship that she tentatively had called the Night Chimera (owing to both the black coat of paint and the fact that it had been re-built thrice with different parts already), it was practically the only thing, other than her, that even had a presence. She’d left Viscara entirely, and had her ship drifting only on emergency power to facilitate this meditation.
It wasn’t really helping. Of course, she could feel it, she could sense it, but what else was she meant to do?
She was beginning to get frustrated. Not anger - no, because that’d actually be useful - just slight annoyance at her own failure.
…
“No, not failure,” she thought. “Just a hurdle.”
Failure, as she’d said before, wasn’t something that she was familiar with, and in such an important step on her journey to total personal freedom, she was not going to allow it to seep in.
For now, the crystal had to be placed back in the black-cloth wrapping she’d brought it here in, and placed in her pocket. If she could not drum up the focus herself, then she would have to create it herself. Besides - Sitting around and waiting for things to happen was the Jedi way, and she was long past that by now.
The urbanized, vile sprawl of Nar Shaddaa was visible even from the low orbit that the Night Chimera was resting within. Indeed, even though places like Tatooine or Viscara were certainly not nice, this was a thousand times worse. Filled with the scum of the galaxy.
Perfect ground to temper her fury, then. Nobody that disappeared here was going to be missed.
Coming in to land at an ancient, downtrodden port somewhere on the moon, Kiekrys left the safety of her ship up to the scrappy little droid that usually dwelled within, 3C-8D, affectionately nicknamed ‘Aidey’, though only ever out of earshot of her peers.
Sweeping through into the dark underbelly of the city-moon, Kiekrys ventured, enwrapped in a dark cloak to conceal both her foils and her identity. Usually, when people come here, they do their business and swiftly leave, hoping to avoid trouble. This time, she was actively searching for it.
Not long, then, until she came across said trouble. Or, rather, an easy way to cause it.
The bleak, rusted under-tunnel of the bottom level of an apartment complex was filled with the downtrodden of the galaxy. Either criminals hiding out, or those just barely scraping out an existence. “Pathetic.”, she thought. They had not the will nor the wish to do more for themselves. Were they even really alive? Perhaps not, because a life like this is no life at all.
Then, she found her trouble. A group of armed thugs, banging on the steel of an apartment door. Three humans and a Rodian, equipped in what looked like third-hand armor and sixth-hand blasters. She noted that the Rodian’s weapon didn’t look like it could fire at all - indeed, he was holding it more akin to a club than a blaster.
"Open up, Jex. We know you’re in there." yelled the tallest human, with the shiniest armour (though, that wasn’t saying much.). No sound came from the apartment complex, and Kiekrys watched silently. She’d not been noticed much, hanging back against a curved wall as she was.
"We’ve given you plenty time, you kriffing son of a bantha! Three weeks now, and not a single credit!" More sounds of fist against metal. The main speaker was getting agitated - his cohorts, meanwhile, just looked bored.
Their apparent leader - or perhaps just representative - tried the handle on the door. Nothing. He gave a frustrated yell, and finally seemed to notice Kiekrys.
"What do you think you’re looking at, scum?" he asked her, immediately waltzing up and getting close.
‘Far too close’, she thought, as her eyes wandered up to him. He was a good foot and a half taller than her - A true giant of a man.
He’d been scowling down at her, and when she gave no immediate answer, he grunted. "Hey, you deaf? I’m talking to you, laserbrain. What’re you doin’ standing there like a cr-"
He’d only gotten halfway through his second sentence when he felt a sharp, sudden pain in his gut, alongside the fizzling noise of an igniting lightfoil training blade, the glowing-red end of it poking out through his back, directly through his stomach. His eyes were wide and alight with surprise and terror.
The insults weren’t what was getting to Kiekrys. After all, it was hardly the worst she’d been called, and she was snooping. What had really gotten under her skin was the commanding tone he’d used with her. As if anyone in the galaxy had a right to order her to do anything - at least, without the strength to back up those orders.
The blade was still in his stomach, and blood was oozing. The foil wasn’t as acute a weapon as a real saber, and it wasn’t so good at immediately cauterizing. She twisted it, and his knees gave out.
As he slumped down to the ground, her gaze was brought up to the remaining three gangers. The two with actual weapons had raised them towards her, while the Rodian with the club-blaster was halfway toward her already. Bringing the foil up in a defensive stance, she’d managed to deflect the first shot, and the second went wide - Maybe due to fear, or perhaps simply due to shoddy equipment.
The Rodian reached Kiekrys, swinging the battered rifle overhead at her, with a furious, yelling warning of “Ma Klounkee!”.
He barely managed to reach her before the second foil had ignited, and left itself buried in his chest. He fell to the side, and she let the green-glowing blade fall with him. That left two. With all her anger focused at them daring to stand their ground, she lunged at one of the gunmen, the blade seeking his arm. It sliced through, like a hot knife through butter, leaving the human screaming and disarmed - literally and figuratively, as the blaster toppled to the floor.
This left Kiekrys in prime position for a point-blank shot by the other gunman, but as he went to pull the trigger, he found his blaster crumpling in his hand, immense pressure in the Force turning the weapon into a balled-up pile of scrap. Then, a gently static twinge on his tongue, and a last yelp of fear as lightning coursed from the Sith Apprentice’s fingers into the scum’s body, wracking him with thousands of volts of electricity. By the time she was done, the poor sod was practically unidentifiable, and the acrid scent of burnt meat was heavy in the air.
She turned back to the armless thug. An expression of terror was abound in his features as he held onto his stump arm as if his life depended on it.
Of course, it didn’t. His life was practically already over, but Kiekrys saw an opportunity to hone a skill she had been practicing. On this weakened fool of a criminal, she saw an ideal test subject.
So, there, with the whimpering fool leaning against the wall, rapidly paling from bloodloss, she extended a hand. Curling it through the air to feel at the Force around him, she focused it. It pressed, then pulled, an intense crushing weight that shut off his airways. True fear overtook him, and she stared him straight in the eyes, as she lifted him up slumped halfway in the air as he choked. Their eyes met, completely. His, blue-grey, clouding, and hers, a deep orange with a firey red core, hateful and angry, without remorse.
His hand let go of the stump, and he clawed, desperately, towards her. No use, though. Nobody was coming, and there was little he could do. She held him there for what felt like an age, until there was an eventual crunch.
She let the body slump to the floor, satisfied with her training. Though the door did interest her. Extending a hand, she sent a wave of blasting energy to knock it open.
"Ah.", she said, at the scene before her. That was why he hadn’t been making those payments.
She left the apartment with haste, not bothering to clean up after herself. She returned to the Mailoc, leaving five dead bodies for someone else to find. “Didn’t kill the fifth, at least.” she thought to herself.
As if it mattered.
Returning to her quarters aboard the Night Chimera, in orbit of Tatooine, Kiekrys was once again on the floor, Kyber crystal in hand. She’d had to remind herself of the emotion she was trying to pour into this little rock. What good is meditating for hours on end when you lose track of just what you’re meditating for?
It was working, now. She felt the will of the Force that suffused the Kyber breaking.
"Bow.", she said, under her breath. "You are mine, now. A tool of freedom. Of power."
Emboldened by her progress, her meditation over the rock continued. With the Kyber floating in the air before her, turning and drifting, she poured her thoughts of the Dark Side within it.
All of her fear, the fear that she had felt in the presence of the Lords that could kill her, the fear that she had felt in the attempts on her life by the Jedi. With this, the blue of the stone had begun to change. After a day of this meditation, it had tinted with a gentle magenta.
The next day, she taught the crystal of her hatred. All the hate and rage that she held for Sohma, who had taken the position that she had desired. For Vilnia, whose incessant pestering had nearly driven her to kill. For the Jedi as a whole, who had lied to and scorned her. The tint increased further, the purples mixing in with a dark yellow twinge.
The third, on her final night of meditation, she faltered, slightly. She kept her anger, flowing and furious, but it seemed to do little. Of course, she’d taught it that already. It had been on her person when she killed those thugs on Nar Shadda. So then, what else…?
She thought, for a time, and she settled. Kiekrys would turn to a nearly untapped well of emotion to break what remained of this Crystal.
She thought, and meditated, and reiterated, on her sorrow. On her regret that the Jedi order had not been all, she’d wished for. On her deep, intense sadness at her constant lies toward those she truly cared about - To Markus, to Callista, Mart, Qyli, Ira’dana, all the rest. Her grief on the thought that, eventually, if her wishes were to be made manifest, she would have to kill them. Her friends.
This, took it, and her, over the edge. By the end of this period, the Sith Apprentice’s face was red, her cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes were puffy.
And the Kyber glowed a deep, dark crimson, turning in the air.
Kiekrys sniffed. She wiped her face. "Get a hold of yourself.", she said, aloud. "There’s work to do."
She grabbed the crystal from where she had it floating, stuffing it back into the cloth, and moved to the cockpit. This victory over this Jedi’s crystal was the first in what was sure to be many.
Any sacrifice was worth it for freedom. Anyone in her way must adapt or die. It’s only natural.
…At least, that’s what she told herself.
The Night Chimera made its way back to Viscara, touching down eventually in an open port in the Wildlands. And she informed her Lords of the development.
Warning
