The doors to the bridge slid open after a second of delay, accompanied by a mechanized whine that rose in pitch. Viscera walked with a slight limp, in through the entry and onto the catwalk which was flanked on either side by sleeping consoles. They blinked with tiny squares of pale blue light, the only illumination within the entire bridge save for the soft glow of the large viewport, in front of which stood the dark, motionless shape of Darth Tyraal. She continued toward the elevation upon which he stood and exactly when she reached her usual spot on the floor Darth Tyraal spoke. Despite her injuries, she hurried to kneel.

''You're missing one,'' the Sith Lord spoke. His scorn echoed in the dark.

''I had to leave it, master.'' Viscera's voice rasped from the sting of her wounds. ''Commandos, they surprised me."

''They did more than that.'' Her master knew she had been wounded during the mission without even looking. Through the Force he saw and understood many things typically beyond normal perception, something Viscera had not yet learned. ''Join me, apprentice.'' He called to her and she hesitated, looking up to see his back before standing to do as he said.

She stumbled on the stairs, having been previously shot, burned and blown up on the mission. Her reflection faded in once she reached the raised area and took a place behind her master and off to the side. Darth Tyraal turned around slowly, the swirls of his robe making him appear to glide instead of step. The slave looked at her master, her reddish eyes becoming lost in his blue depths. Viscera felt her consciousness slipping out of her and into the shimmering vortex of his eyes.

''Hold my gaze.'' Tyraal voiced audible darkness. She already was unable to do anything else. It was not love. It was the Force. Suddenly, his eyes flickered and Viscera felt her injuries tingle lightly. The light burns on her face and body prickled then cleared. Then the sensation grew and her blaster wounds began to itch and burn. Her brow tightened and her flesh began to return, burns clearing away and dirt disappearing from her skin.

"Aahh!'' Viscera cried out with tears in her eyes, the stinging in her body making it hard to keep eye contact with her master. Darth Tyraal stared into his slave and she squirmed under his gaze while the Force purged the harm from her body. Just when she felt overwhelmed, the ethereal burn stopped all at once. Viscera clutched her chest, hunching over and gasping while the Sith Lord's eyes lingered on her. There was a long silence where Darth Tyraal allowed Viscera to catch her breath.

''Describe them,'' Tyraal ordered.

''Clone troopers, four of them with the strongest weapons and armor I've ever seen on an individual.'' Viscera did as she was told and elaborated on the people that cost Tyraal his fourth frigate.

''They are stronger than you?'' The question came with a hint of expectation in his voice.

''Together, yes.'' She couldn't admit to weakness without a qualifier.

''Then you will strive to be their end.'' The tone he took made Viscera curious.

''Yes, master.'' There was oddness in speaking to her master while both standing and facing him. It was rare enough to warrant a mental double-take; however, her thoughts were interrupted by her master's voice.

''Now…'' His eyes sharpened and the Force rushed into the space between them, casting Viscera backward into the air, ''…defend yourself.'' Darth Tyraal issued the command to his apprentice just as she landed on the catwalk. Two Automated Combatant Units activated on either side of her while she got to her feet and drew her arcsaber. They fired on her, four in total, and she twisted to avoid red bolts. She spun and flipped, the bridge flashing erratic with laserlight and shots pelting randomly along the wall. Viscera angled the vibroblade and blocked incoming fire to the best of her ability. Yet even with her skill, energy grazed her occasionally. The multi-directional onslaught was relentless and Viscera could only dodge and block while waiting for further instruction from her master.

The ACUs did not tire, aiming, reloading and tracking her endlessly, while Viscera eventually did. After about an hour, her reactions slowed and fatigue crept in. Shots grazed her more often or even hit her squarely, causing Viscera to cry in pain. Her face screwed with frustration. There were angles she couldn't see and bolts she couldn't dodge. She was melee fighter and she was good at it, but sessions like these made her limits painfully apparent. Finally, she heard the word she was waiting for.

''Attack,'' Tyraal ordered. With her master's permission, she launched into the nearest droid and stabbed into it angrily, gears stripping and valves failing. Sparks burst from the hole in the ACU as it crumbled to the floor. A second droid was severed from shoulder to hip and Viscera spun to take the head of a third. Machinery clattered around her as she dipped low to cleave the waist of the remaining robotic opponent. Wiring spilled from the separation and crackling electricity buzzed from the split ends. Viscera grimaced and gingerly touched the blaster wound in her shoulder with her free hand, one of a dozen grazes and hits.

''Your physicality is exceptional, but it is not your only weapon.'' Darth Tyraal had already turned to face the window.

''Master?'' the Chiss woman asked while she walked a few steps from the droids, sheathed her arcsaber, and took a silent guess at what he was getting at.

''Range, Viscera. Foresight and perception; these will supplement your blade. '' He confirmed her guess by expressing the abilities she was lacking.

''I have called on the Force master; it does not respond.'' Her eyes lowered and she leered at the polished floor.

"You allow it to elude you,'' the Sith Lord spoke, knowing exactly what the problem was. ''Do not 'call' on the Force; do not wait on its power. '' Tyraal stripped the Force of its mysticism, his teachings emphasizing raw will and control. ''Demand that it obey you.''

''How?'' She looked at her master, hoping to gather the answer by scanning him from across the bridge.

''Your will. It flares when you tense, when you anger, when you submit to me.'' A tone of knowing rose and died down within the same second. Darth Tyraal could see Viscera's potential more than she could. ''You seize the Force often. Now, you must focus it.''

''I can't.'' Viscera shifted her weight and she had to look away from her master once again.

''You do not struggle to draw your weapon. You take it in your hand, you wield it surely.'' The Sith Lord employed an angle familiar his apprentice.

''But it is physical, master.'' She tried to understand and the working of her mind sapped the volume from her voice. Viscera was unsure and unconvinced.

''The Force is all around you.'' Tyraal was calm and steady. ''Grasp it; wield it. There is no difference.''

Viscera exhaled, letting the pain of training and the mental ache of the lecture pour out of her. There was a reason she had given up on the Force. She searched the floor and confusion melted her thoughts. He made it sound so simple, likened it to the arcsaber held fast on her belt, which she could see and feel.

''Retire to your chamber, Viscera.'' She thought she heard a sigh come from her master. ''Claim the Force,'' Tyraal instructed, concluding the session and dismissing his apprentice.

Viscera turned around slowly and winced from the new wounds of her training with the droids. The sharp odor of lingering smoke stung her senses and she readily stepped over the scattered alloy limbs on her way out. There was a hint of stagger as she walked down the bridge and through sliding slate doors which glided open when she approached and returned closed once she was gone.