"Kill him, Ashara. Kill him now."
"Please Mistress. Don't make me go against my teachings."
The Republic commander looked back and forth between the two of them, terror on his face. "Please," he begged, "there's no need to kill me. This planet is yours, I'll—Agghh!" He screamed and writhed on the ground as lightning shot from Darth Nox' fingertips and crackled through his body.
Darth Nox laughed. "I'm going to keep torturing him until you kill him." She sent another burst of lightning into the writhing man's body.
"Mistress, please! Why are you doing this?"
"Because you agree you are my apprentice, Ashara, but still you resist learning what I have to teach you. How can you advance," and here, Nox paused to shock the man again, "in your studies if you refuse to learn? Now kill him."
By this point, the man had become an incoherent, blubbering mess. Ashara knelt down and helped him to his feet. Standing behind him, she whispered to him "I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Just remember that there is no death, there is only the Force." At that, the man stood straighter for a moment, regaining some of his dignity. Ashara ignited her lightsaber against his back, and the blade immediately severed his spinal cord and pierced his heart. He was dead before he hit the floor.
"'There is no death, only the Force'?" Nox echoed. "Even now, you cling to your Jedi teachings. Get down on your knees."
Ashara knelt before her mistress, laying both of her lightsabers at her feet. Nox paced back and forth before her.
"You will never be a Sith, Ashara. It is not in you. But you are no Padawan either, and never can be again." Nox ignited one of her double-bladed lightsaber's blades, its red glow giving a lurid cast to Ashara's red and white skin, and to Nox's own deathly pale visage.
Ashara closed her eyes and bowed her head, waiting for the end.
Nox brought her lightsaber down swiftly, and barely grazed Ashara's left shoulder, just enough to singe the fibers in her robe, before repeating the process on her right shoulder.
Nox smiled. "You are a Jedi Knight, Ashara. Rise."
Ashara got to her feet, dumbfounded. Nox, beaming, embraced her.
"I'm so proud of you. Even in the worst extreme, you found a way to remain true to the Jedi code."
Ashara was too relieved and amazed not to laugh. "I don't understand, Mistress. I thought you wanted me to turn to the Dark Side, to become a Sith. You wanted me to become a Jedi?"
Nox smiled. "Do you think I want to destroy the Jedi Order? To end the Jedi so that only the Sith will remain?"
"I thought that's what all Sith wanted?"
"Only the foolish ones. The Jedi make us strong! Without the Jedi, what would we be? The Jedi give us something to oppose, something to push against. It's that competition that makes us better Sith. That's the Sith way: competition makes you stronger. We need the Jedi, and they need us. And you make me a better Sith. It's because I've had you, a Jedi, as my apprentice, that I've been able to rise so fast. I want you to stay a Jedi, to be the best Jedi you can be, so that you will make me the best Sith I can be."
"I think I understand, Mistress. But I do have one question: can a Sith Lord make a Jedi Knight?"
"I've never heard anyone say I can't." Nox smiled again. "And if anyone does question it, I'll torture him until he swears you're a Jedi Knight." Ashara looked stricken, until Nox added "That was a joke. Possibly."
—The End—