I. Trials | Glowfic Constellation

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Apr 19, 2024 3:55 AM

a fateful meeting; Yvette and Ellie

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A young woman sits on a seat thats synthetic cushioning is only nominally cushioning, wondering if it means anything in particular that the shuttle has no windows. She'd hoped there would be windows. Windows meant that she could edge her way to one to look out of it to try and get an overhead view of the Sith academy, try to commit its layout to memory. Saving time not getting lost seems like it'd be a minor thing, but she's pretty sure that really, she doesn't have much going for her in the Sith murder competition. Every scrap of an advantage she can get at she has to go for, so she can maybe not die.

But realistically? She's probably going to die. In fact, most people here were going to die, and they all know it. Or were deluding themselves by trying to pretend that it was all going to be okay, that the Sith will be nice. The ones that didn't fall to delusion were afraid, including her. But she had to say that she was handling it better than some. One in the corner had burst into tears twice already, and looked ready for round three, bonus snot edition. Another two were posturing, saying how they were going to be the best Sith, how the rest of them were going to die. Regaining some scraps of resolve stolen by fear by terrorizing the people around them. What a very Sith thing to do. They must be so proud.

Nariveth, for her part, sits quietly. She doesn't dare close her eyes and try to snatch a few moments of sleep, even though she hadn't had enough. She's far too nervous, far too surrounded by strangers that might want to kill her, far too afraid to show weakness when sometimes her neck still tingled like a shock collar sat on it and she had to behave or she'd be shocked until she couldn't think from the pain. And the terror. The terror came with the pain. But, sad as it might be, terror was just a fact of her life now. What if her master is upset with her, what if her master thinks she's pretty, what happens if she ostracizes herself from her peers and they start finding ways to make her suffer, what if Imperial Intelligence decides that she's on the wrong side of the statistics the next time they deem losses acceptable, what if, what if -

Well, she doesn't have a master now. And no matter the what if, it'll be more difficult to handle if she's running mindlessly in circles like a gizka that's lost its head. She can keep her composure, and then she can deal with it. Whatever happens.

The engine's hum quiets, and the entire shuttle shakes as it meets ground, and Nariveth steadies herself with a deep breath and stands. The landing ramp lowers, and a breath of hot, dry air rushes in.

Time to go.

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Lord Occlus

whatever-you-call-it

Diaeresis

Occlus bows very slightly.

"Thank you, Darth Marr."

No less than she expected. The question is, which part comes next?

Aestrix

"Now. Onto more important business," says Darth Ravage.

"Indeed!" agrees Vowrawn, smiling. "Occlus? Your seat."

He motions to the seat for the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge.

Darth Occlus

meaner-than-my-demons

Diaeresis

Ah. This part. Good. It would have been inconvenient to kill all of them. She nods at Vowrawn as she passes him.

Darth Occlus ascends to her seat.

"Yes. On to business."

Nariveth

Aestrix

Her apprentice didn't need to accompany her to the Dark Council chambers - it was quite all right for Nariveth to just remain on the ship. She would like some time to rest, and then maybe figure out her own head, so this is fine by her.

She gets the news soon enough, anyway - her master is now a Darth, and also the newest member of the Dark Council. That's that. The easy escape route option is quite gone. But in return, she's no longer in a warzone. She's no longer at immediate risk of dying. She's apprenticed to a member of the Dark Council, which is about the third best spot in the Empire for 'no one will try to put a shock collar on you again,' which is - well, it's not nothing. It's not quite what she would have picked if anyone had asked her for her opinion of where she would like her life to go, but all in all, not a bad lot. Except for the sith, of course. Ugh. The worst part of being a sith is having to deal with other sith. She doesn't look forward to it.

... For some reason, she recalls the sith code that she read in that book, her first day at the academy. How did it go? Thanaton had said part of it, hadn't he.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion, went the first line, and isn't that the fucking truth. Has she had peace, ever? Has she ever been happy with her life situation? Please, she's been trapped by circumstance her entire life, watching unspoken atrocities unfold in front of her. With nothing she can fix, nothing she can touch, nothing she can change. Helpless, or - something close to it. And how can she be at peace with things as they are? With having no ability to change any of it?

Through passion I gain strength, went the next line. What would have happened, she wonders, if she wasn't passionate? If she hadn't looked at the state of things and said, No, actually, I don't accept this as it is, and clawed her way to - not dying? To getting the lovers out alive instead of just accepting things as they were? It - has been her strength, hasn't it? It's driven her to do more than hide under the covers when thrown hopelessly out of her depth, to go, I do not have the resources to solve this, but I’m damn well going to get them.

Through strength, I gain power. Again, true. If she hadn’t of had the strength to stand against the world and demand things of it – she never would have gained the power she has. Never would have become Occlus’s apprentice, never would have trained her Force abilities so well so quickly. Never would have been able to brave a warzone or think quickly enough to bark orders at imperial officers to get them to win a battle. She doesn’t have very much power, yet, but – she has time. If she’s smart enough to not get herself killed.

Through power I gain victory. Isn’t that what she wants? Ultimately? The moments where she can save people she wasn’t meant to save, the moments when she wins. When the person that threatened her is splattered all over the ground in front of her and won’t trouble her, or anyone else, ever again. When she successfully gets people to listen to her, successfully argues for something she wants and then gets it.

Thanaton didn’t finish the sith code, did he, she recalls there's more to it than what he said. But the last two lines were particularly resonant to her, anyway, so she doesn’t have trouble recalling them.

Through victory, my chains are broken. She doesn’t forget who put those chains on her in the first place, but – well. This line has become remarkably literal and also very close to home. She would like so dearly for her chains to be broken. Some of them have – she hardly has a shock collar around her neck, but she isn’t shortsighted enough to say she’s free.

The Force shall free me. Not yet. But one day.

... It's surprising how much it resonates with her, now. She recalls writing it off as propaganda, before. But now -

Nariveth can't deny it, not anymore. She is a sith. Maybe a different kind than the others; smarter, less cruel. Less prone to wanton acts of idiocy and murder. But the lust for power is there, the passion. The merciless way she crushes someone who stands in her way. The way she sees what she wants and says I am getting it.

It’s not so terrible a fate, after all.

After taking a moment to let this sink in, to understand the gravity of the statement, she stands, and goes to hunt down a datapad. There’s a questionnaire that she has to write for herself. She won’t stand for being one of the crazy ones.