'My Apprentice'
The words reverberated through Jasea's core, a seismic jolt that set her nerves ablaze with a primal thrill. The Force surged in her veins, her heartbeat a staccato rhythm against the swamp's sickly drone.
Words tore from Jasea's lips, raw and fervent, a cascade of excitement that crackled like lightning in the Force. "Where do we start, Master?" Her voice trembled with a hunger she could no longer leash.
Her new Master let out a rueful chuckle that cut through the swamp's oppressive buzz, a sound laced with both amusement. His sharp eyes softened momentarily, their molten glow dimming as his crimson features took on a contemplative cast.
"I believe an apt metaphor for your journey within the dark side would be a kin to building a house," he said, his voice a low, resonant hum that vibrated through the Force, carrying the authority of one who had carved his own path through its shadows. "Over the last few months, the landscape has been cleared. The trees and their roots—your ties to the Jedi, your past, your weaknesses—have been torn out. The terrain has been flattened, the chaos of your former life leveled. The building materials—your pain, your will, a teacher—have been acquired. Now, we must lay the foundation."
His words painted a vivid image in Jasea's mind: a barren expanse where the Lady Gesselle's manor lay in ruin and the shadow of the burnt out husk of the Jedi temple stood beyond it, The Sith Lord's gaze sharpened, as if he could see the vision taking shape within her, his presence a dark beacon that pulsed with the promise of power. The swamp's noxious air seemed to thicken, the Force coiling around them like a stranglehold, its dark currents urging her to embrace the truth of his metaphor.
The Sith Lord rose from his kneel with a predator's grace, his black and purple robes flowing like liquid shadow, untouched by Hutta's rancid mire. Jasea's sodden Jedi robes, caked with filth, clung heavily to her frame, a stark symbol of the past she teetered on abandoning. He began to circled her, his steps silent in the squelching muck, his burning eyes fixed on her form, the Force humming with dark intent. Each circuit tightened the air, a coiled energy tugging at her resolve, daring her to rise from the swamp's grasp and claim the power he offered.
"The foundation of a true Sith is not built on fleeting emotions or reckless rage," he continued, his tone a blend of mentor's guidance and predator's challenge. "It is built on the truth of who you are, stripped bare of lies and illusions. Your passion will be the cornerstone, your will the mortar."
The Sith Lord's voice deepened, each word a spark igniting the air as he recited, "Peace is a Lie, there is only Passion. Through Passion, I gain Strength. Through Strength, I gain Power. Through Power, I gain Victory. Through Victory, my Chains are broken. The Force shall Free me."
Each line of what she assumed was the Sith Code sent a current of liquid power coursing through Jasea's veins, a searing energy that ignited her core in a way the Jedi Code never had. Those rigid tenets of peace and restraint had always felt like chains, stifling her spirit, but this—this dark hymn resonated deep within her, its cadence a spark that kindled the hunger she'd began to truly feel. The Force pulsed in rhythm with the red-skinned Sith's words, each syllable a molten thread weaving into her soul, urging her to embrace the fire within.
He paused his circling, standing before her, his crimson visage framed by the swamp's sickly glow. His voice deepened, resonant with conviction. "This code will be the duracrete that the framework of your power will be built upon. Unlike the Jedi Code, which binds and blinds, this is a code that echoes through the very souls of those in the galaxy who have the courage to become the best they can be." His eyes gleamed, reflecting the unyielding truth of his words, the Force swirling around him like a storm held in check, daring Jasea to step into its embrace and forge her destiny atop this unshakable foundation.
The Sith Lord sank back into a kneeling position across from Jasea, his black and purple robes pooling around him like spilled ink. The Force's intensity ebbed slightly, its dark current softening as if a great flame had settled into a steady dance within the swamp's oppressive darkness, casting flickering shadows that seemed to pulse. His burning orbs for eyes held her gaze, their molten glow a beacon of unrelenting purpose.
The Sith Lord's voice, a low, deliberate cadence, carried the weight of destiny, each word forged with intent. "We will approach each line in the code separately," he said, his tone sharp with the promise of power, "to ensure your understanding is complete." The Force pulsed subtly, a dark current underscoring his words, poised for Jasea to grasp its truths.
She nodded, her focus honed to a razor's edge, free of the doubts that once restrained her through her time a Jedi. The Code's fire burned in her veins, urging her to embrace the path her Master was shaping—a future where she would stand as Sith.
"Peace is a lie, there is only Passion. This line speaks to the bedrock of progress and growth. To acknowledge that peace is false is to ensure you will continue to evolve." His yellow eyes bored into Jasea. "The Jedi claim peace is beautiful, a state all beings should strive for." He paused, a shadow of disdain crossing his crimson features, his voice brimming with unrestrained certainty as he continued.
"We of the dark side know this is a lie. Peace is stagnation. Entropy. Peace is the slow death of the living." His amber-gold eyes, glowing like twin embers of a smoldering forge, locked onto Jasea, their fierce radiance cutting through her doubts. The Force pulsed darkly with his conviction, a restless current that seemed to coil around her heart. "The Jedi preach their hollow serenity, claiming it brings balance, but it is a shackle on the spirit. It strangles ambition, dulls the fire of purpose, and leaves the galaxy to wither in apathy. Passion—raw, untamed passion—is the spark that drives progress, ignites creation, and forges empires. Do you understand?"
Jasea nodded, a spark of clarity igniting within her. Yes, she could understand—more than that, she felt the truth of his words resonate in her core. The Jedi's obsession with peace, their endless calls for patience and inaction, had always rung hollow to her. How many Jedi had she witnessed preaching serenity as if waiting for the universe to shift on its own was a virtue to be celebrated? Their teachings had felt like a slow surrender, a refusal to confront the galaxy's chaos head-on. Even her old master, Noman Karr, had unwittingly echoed the Sith's philosophy in his defiance of that stagnation. He hadn't sat idly by, waiting for the Empire's spies to burrow deeper into the Republic; he had demanded action, his will a blade against complacency. The realization struck Jasea like a current through the Force—the Sith Code's call to passion wasn't just rebellion; it was the courage to shape destiny, a truth Karr had glimpsed but never fully embraced.
A question stirred at the edge of Jasea's thoughts, sharp and insistent. She hesitated, her lips parting slightly before she found her voice. "Master, could I ask a question?" The words carried a tentative edge, born from years of Jedi restraint, yet laced with a growing boldness that mirrored the fire kindling within her.
The Sith Lord's lips curved into a subtle smile, his ember-like eyes glinting with a mix of approval and anticipation. "Of course, Apprentice," he replied, his voice smooth and inviting, yet edged with the weight of a teacher poised to guide—or challenge.
Jasea's voice was steady as she spoke. "Many of the Jedi who taught me claimed the dark side was unnatural, an aberration in the Force. Why do they think that? I assume they are wrong in their belief?"
The Sith Lord nodded, as if Jasea's question was a thread he'd long anticipated. The sharp, red, spike-like tendrils extending from his brow ridges swayed subtly with the motion, catching the dim light of Hutta's twilight and glinting like polished obsidian. "I have heard this belief before," he said, his voice a measured cadence, rich with the weight of experience. "It depends on your perspective."
Jasea tilted her head, her brow furrowing in curiosity, caught off guard by the nuance in his response. She had expected a blunt dismissal of the Jedi's claims, a flat rejection of their teachings. "What does that mean, Master?" she asked.
He let out a low, contemplative hum, the sound resonating like a distant rumble of thunder in the Force. "If you believe the universe should exist in a state where sentient life does not—where there is only cold, unfeeling order—then the Jedi would be correct," he began, his tone steady but edged with disdain.
"They see the Force as a static, pristine thing, untouched by the mess of living will. But if you recognize that the dark side thrives when the living wield it, that it is fueled by the emotions and intentions of those bold enough to embrace it, you begin to see their error. The dark side is not unnatural—it is simply younger than the light side of the Force, born from the passion and ambition of sentient beings who dared to shape the galaxy rather than bow to it." His words carried a quiet fire, the Force pulsing in rhythm, as if affirming the truth that the dark side was no aberration but a vital, living force, intertwined with the will of those who wielded it.
Jasea nodded, her acceptance of his words settling like a cornerstone in her mind, far clearer and more resonant than the Jedi's rigid teachings. The Sith Lord's explanation had sliced through the fog of her former masters' dogma, revealing a truth that pulsed in sync with the Force within her. "Thank you, Master," she said, her voice steady with newfound conviction. "Please, continue with the code."
He inclined his head, the red, spike-like tendrils above his brows shifting faintly and his ember-like eyes gleamed with approval. "We have established why peace is a lie," he began, his voice a smooth, commanding current. "The next line is clear in its truth: There is only passion. Passion is the driving force behind all things. It is fundamental not only to the dark side but to life itself." A low, humorous chuckle escaped his lips, laced with a sharp edge of irony. "The Jedi proclaim themselves protectors of life, yet they seek to curtail our greatest strength. Passion, in its purest form, is growth. It is the raw, unfiltered emotional surge that pushes us to become better, to grow stronger, to carve our will into the galaxy."
His words stirred the Force around them, a vibrant pulse that seemed to echo the vitality of passion itself, urging Jasea to embrace the fire within her—not as a flaw to be suppressed, but as the spark that would forge her into something greater. The Jedi's fear of emotion, their insistence on severing it or suppressing it, seemed like a denial of life's essence, and she felt the Code's truth deepen its roots, igniting her resolve to wield her passion as a weapon of transformation.
The Sith Lord's voice carried a steady, resonant certainty as he continued, his ember-like eyes glinting with the fire of conviction. "The next line I have already touched upon: Through passion, I gain strength. As I said, passion is the purest form of emotion, the unyielding drive that fuels a Sith's will." His red, spike-like brow tendrils twitched faintly as he leaned forward, the Force humming with the weight of his words. "If a Sith always strives to gain strength through the lens of their passions, they will not only grow strong but will grow in a strength that holds deep personal weight. Passion is not a fleeting whim—it is the fire that shapes your purpose, forging strength that is uniquely yours, unbreakable because it is rooted in what you value most."
His words struck Jasea like a spark igniting dry tinder, the Code's truth weaving deeper into her core. The Jedi had taught her to suppress overly intense emotions such as passion, to view it as a weakness, but her Master's words revealed passion as the crucible for strength, a path to power that was hers to define. The Force pulsed in rhythm under her skin, urging her to embrace the desires that burned within, to let them fuel her ascent as a Sith who would carve her own destiny in any way she saw fit.
The Sith Lord's voice grew heavier, each syllable a precise blow, tempering Jasea's understanding like durasteel in a forge. "Through strength, I gain power. This, too, ties to what has already been said," he intoned, his amber-gold eyes flaring with a fierce intensity, as if the Force itself coiled tighter around them, drawn by his conviction. "To become strong does not immediately make one powerful. Strength is the foundation, the raw material honed by passion. Power is strength made manifest—wielded with purpose, shaped by will, and unleashed to bend the galaxy to your intent." He paused, his lips twitched upwards faintly, a subtle underscore to his words. "The expression of power is yours to choose, Apprentice. It may blaze as raw Force energies, tearing through the ether like a storm. It may weave through the subtle threads of politics, bending minds and empires. Or it may take form in wealth and status, commanding respect and fear. Power is not a single path—it is the culmination of your will, shaped by the strength you forge."
His words continued to strike Jasea like a spark in a dry forest, igniting a deeper understanding of the Sith Code's promise. The Jedi had condemned power as a corruptive force, but the Code revealed it as the natural evolution of strength, a tool as varied as the will that wielded it. The dark side whispered all around her, a dark rhythm urging her to envision the power she could claim—whether through the raw might of the Force, the cunning of influence, or the weight of authority—and to mold it into a weapon that would carve her name into the galaxy's heart.
Jasea's curiosity sharpened, her voice steady but edged with intrigue. "During our duel, you only used your lightsaber and telekinesis. Is that the path you took, Master?"
Her Master let out a low chuckle, the sound rich with amusement, his ember-like eyes glinting with a knowing spark. "No, those are skills I've cultivated, but they are not where my true interest lies," he said, his tone smooth yet carrying a weight that drew the Force tighter around them. "I am much like you, Apprentice, in that I possess an innate ability that has both aided and complicated my path to power. It is called Shatterpoint." He paused for a moment before continuing. "It is both similar and dissimilar to your own gift. Where your sight pierces the heart of a person, cutting through the haze of their deceptions to reveal their true nature, my Shatterpoint allows me to see the fault lines in all things—objects, people, even events. A single fracture point, when struck, can shatter a blade, break a mind, or unravel the course of fate itself."
Jasea's eyes widened as the realization struck her like a bolt of Force lightning. "That was how you were able to crack through Master Karr's mask so easily," she said, her voice a mix of awe and revelation, the pieces of her former master's defeat falling into place.
Her Master's lips curved into a faint, approving smile, his amber-gold eyes glinting with a predatory satisfaction. "Precisely, Apprentice," he replied, his tone smooth and deliberate, carrying the weight of one who had wielded his gift with devastating precision. "Shatterpoint revealed the fault lines in Karr's facade—his pride, his hidden rage, the cracks in his so-called serenity. One strike, and his mask crumbled, exposing the weakness he buried beneath Jedi platitudes." She nodded her head in understanding. Her own ability to see through deception mirrored his, but his Shatterpoint was a blade, honed to break whatever stood in his path, and it stirred in her a hunger to wield her own power with such unrelenting clarity.
Before Jasea could press further, her Master raised a hand, his crimson fingers cutting through the air with quiet authority, silencing her questions. His amber-gold eyes, sharp as molten embers, held her in place. "There will be plenty of time to hone your talents," he said, his voice a low, commanding hum that carried the weight of a teacher redirecting a pupil's focus. "For now, we will continue with the Code." The Force pulsed subtly, a dark current underscoring his intent, urging Jasea to set aside her curiosity and anchor herself in the present, in learning the Sith Code.
The Sith Lord paused to ensure she was giving him her sole focus before his voice rang with unyielding conviction. "Through power, I gain victory. This is the natural culmination of power," he declared, his amber-gold eyes flaring with fierce certainty, their ember-like glow holding her in a relentless gaze. "Victory is the declaration of success, the vindication that your path is right. It is the moment when your will, forged through passion and strength, triumphs over all—enemies, doubts, or the galaxy's vast indifference." His words carried a sharp clarity, further fanning the flame of ambition within Jasea.
The Sith Lord's voice took on a sharp, resonant edge as he continued, his crimson features illuminated by the faint glow of Hutta's twilight. "Through Power, my chains are Broken." A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, laced with amusement, his ember-like eyes glinting as they fixed on Jasea. "Chains. They bind the galaxy at every turn—chains of command, chaining you to another's will; chains of social expectations, dictating how you must act; chains of responsibility, weighing you down with burdens not your own. From the lowliest slave to the Emperor himself, no one escapes them."
His red, spike-like brow tendrils twitched slightly as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "But power—true power—shatters them all. It is the key that unlocks your freedom, the fire that burns away the fetters others impose. Through power, you rise above the galaxy's endless constraints, answerable only to your own will."You may always have a chain that binds you," he continued, his words slicing through the air with deliberate precision, "but you will always have the opportunity to shatter those chains." He paused a moment to allow her to digest his word before finishing. "Power grants you that choice, Apprentice. Every chain—be it duty, fear, or the expectations of others—is a challenge, a test of your will. Through the strength you forge and the power you wield, you can break them all, claiming true freedom as a Sith."
Jasea couldn't suppress the shiver that raced down her spine, a tingling surge coursing through her veins as her Master's words struck a deep chord. Chains—she knew them intimately, their weight a constant in her life, binding her in ways both seen and unseen. Her parents had forged her first chain, their ambition to climb Alderaan's political ladder chaining her to a future of their design—a marriage to some noble, her will sacrificed for their status. Gesselle, too, had been a chain, her noble facade initially gleaming with sincerity, only to reveal itself as another gilded shackle. Over time, Jasea had seen through the noblewoman's warmth to the cold truth: Gesselle viewed those beneath her as lesser, mere tools for her own ends. But the thickest, most unyielding chain of all had been the Jedi Order. Their rigid doctrines, their sanctimonious calls for peace and restraint, had wrapped around her spirit, stifling her desires, her potential, her very self, under the guise of righteousness. Each chain had left its mark, but her Master's words—through Power, my Chains are Broken—pulled down the facade that the chains disappear by chance.
The words slipped from Jasea's lips, unbidden yet fervent, as if drawn forth by the Sith Code's relentless pull. "The Force shall free me." Her voice, though soft, carried a raw conviction that echoed in the charged air between them.
A gleam of pride flickered across her Master's crimson face, his amber-gold eyes flaring with approval. "Yes, you understand," he said, his voice a low, resonant hum, rich with the satisfaction of a teacher witnessing a pupil's awakening. "I can feel it." The Force seemed to ripple in affirmation, a subtle current weaving through his words, as if acknowledging Jasea's growing resolve. The weight of her past chains—her parents' ambitions, Gesselle's deceit, the Jedi's suffocating dogma—felt lighter in that moment, as if finally understanding a fundamental aspect of the dark side had allowed her to shed the last remnants of those chains.
Her Master rose to his full height, his form towering over Jasea as she remained kneeling in Hutta's mire. The sight struck her with a sudden clarity—how swiftly the galaxy could shift in mere hours. Earlier that day, his imposing presence, cloaked in black and purple robes, would have sent fear coiling through her, a Jedi's instinctive dread of the dark side's menace. Now, gazing up at the man she called Master, a surge of joyful pleasure bloomed within her, uncontainable, like a star igniting in the void. His burning yellow eyes, glowing with fierce purpose, no longer threatened but beckoned, promising a path to freedom she had only begun to grasp.
The Sith extended a hand, his blood-red fingers steady and commanding, the Force humming faintly around them. "Come, my Apprentice," he said, his voice a smooth, resolute cadence that carried the weight of destiny. "This planet could be considered the womb in which your true self has been born. It is time to leave and live." His words stirred the air, the Sith Code's promise resonating within her, urging her to rise from the muck of her past—her parents' schemes, Gesselle's betrayal, the Jedi's chains—and step into the galaxy as a Sith, reborn and unbound,
Jasea seized her Master's outstretched hand, his grip firm and unyielding, and pulled herself up from Hutta's clinging mire. The motion felt like breaking free from molasses, the swamp's viscous grasp releasing her as if a tangible weight slid from her shoulders—her past, her doubts, the Jedi's chains dissolving in the wake of her resolve. Standing face-to-face with her Master, a smirk curled across her lips, sharp and unapologetic, mirroring the predatory confidence she'd glimpsed in her vision of her future self. The Force hummed softly between them, a quiet affirmation of her rebirth, as she stood ready to step into the galaxy as his Apprentice, her true path unfolding before her.
"Ready when you are, my Master."