Tarahmes swerved to the left barely avoiding the lasers pelting at his sim-fighter. Pulling the throttle to a near stop, Tarahmes banks back towards the right on a slow arcing intercept course with his opponent. As soon as the other fighter was within range he fired off a volley of shots, which the opposing sim-fighter dodged easily. It was absurd how little effort she seemed to put into avoiding the assaults. Tarahmes shook his head to clear it and pushed the throttle back up to half it's max cruising speed; just in time to dodge the return fire which almost ended the match. He circles around the back of Aya's fighter and let loose more blaster fire. She begins to lean towards the left, and Tarahmes mimics her movements sweeping the attack across the back of her engine. However, he realizes all too late that she was feinting, and Aya's ships rises up and does a roll to the right, effectively avoiding all the lasers. Then she turns completely to the right and activates her turbo's shooting off away from him. Tarahmes banks to the right with Aya, who's pulling away from him at an alarming rate. He push the turbo's on and begin to shoot after his younger sister then growling to himself in anger as Aya uses another brilliant maneuver that ends up with him in front of her. As soon as Tarahmes had activated his boosters, Aya cut her's off, and he'd gained on her way too fast. She then dropped her relative altitude so that Tarahmes whipped over the top of her ship, and she pulled level with him again. He hears a rapid beeping on his sensors and nearly curses as he realizes she'd fired off a missile in his moment of weakness. Tarahmes pulls up and to the left while trying to think of some way to get away from the missile. Thinking back to the end of the introductory course, Tarahmes use a right strafe, left bank to move to the side while facing the missile. His blasters begin to fire off and he smirks in satisfaction as the missile is destroyed just far enough to save him from any damage. A split second later, his fighter is destroyed in a flashy explosion that ends with the screen spelling the words out "Aya Idrissa Defeated Tarahmes Idrissa."
"Whoa, that didn't go the way I expected," Tarahmes sounds confused. "What happened?"
"While you were running away from my missile, I came up behind you while you were distracted," Aya smiles.
"That one will definitely be fun for the troopers to watch." Tarahmes rubs his head.
"Return to your room, the time has come for you to begin training," a voice pushes its way into Tarahmes' head.
"I have to go," Tarahmes tells Aya after a moment of silence. "Our father needs me."
"I'll stay here," she says turning back to her simulators screen.
"Have fun," Tarahmes rushes out of the room.
As he comes around the corner he spots Kadiginon sitting at his desk wearing a smirk at the match he'd just watched.
"Download me a copy," Tarahmes commands in a hurried voice while handing Kadiginon his holopad
"Tough match?" he questions my tone.
"You tell me," Tarahmes challenges.
"You handled that exceptionally well," Kadiginon says with a smile. "I don't think anyone keeps track of their opponent when running away from a missile."
"Luckily I found that out in here," Tarahmes comments back taking the holopad. "I'll be back later."
"Not too much later," Kadiginon calls after his newfound friend.
Turning the corner into the short hallway that holds the three rooms of his only family, Tarahmes spots his father waiting calmly, staring straight ahead, with his hands folded behind his back and feet comfortably shoulder-width apart.
"And so your journey begins," Darth Sidriss intones in a deep voice. "Its time for you to learn where your home away from home is."
Taking Tarahmes' uncomfortable silence as an affirmative, Darth Sidriss sets off down the hall, taking a left away from elevator. Ignoring the stares of storm troopers, and unarmored officers, Tarahmes tries adopting his father's calm, slow, steadily pounding footsteps. He doesn't try to clasp his hands behind his back, rather letting them swing in rhythm with his feet. The change of his movement behavior makes him feel invigorated with confidence, and he no longer wonders why his father's subsidiaries fear him.
"Good," Darth Sidriss voices the new feelings he senses from Tarahmes. "Tell me something, why do you seem so much quieter now? Are you nervous?"
"What is there to be nervous about?" Tarahmes questions back.
"Do not answer my questions with one of your own."
"No I'm not nervous. I'm trying to transition from being just your son, to your student also." Tarahmes explains.
"A student does nothing but learn from books and archives. You are my Padawan," Darth Sidriss corrects.
"Yes master," Tarahmes finally speaks to his father as the Padawan he now is.
"And it is wise of you to observe the change in our relationship." Darth Sidriss compliments.
"Thank you, master." Tarahmes speaks again, feeling slightly awkward.
"Do not feel so uncomfortable," Darth Sidriss says in his mind.
"It will become natural to me fairly quickly," Tarahmes assures his father.
"I am still your father," comes the response. "This is an addition to our relationship, not a replacement."
"Yes master father." Tarahmes jokingly thinks back.
The smile on Darth Sidriss' face only flickered, and only Tarahmes was able to catch it because he'd been watching for the reaction. Reaching the large door at the end of the room four storm troopers are waiting armed with the biggest blaster rifles Tarahmes had ever seen in his life. He suspected they either heavily repeated or had a huge single shot; it was possible that both were true of the weaponry.
"Troopers," his father speaks in a commanding voice that snaps them all to attention.
"Yes sir?" the head trooper acknowledges Darth Sidriss.
"All of you are now required to obey Tarahmes Idrissa," he commands indicating his son, who is standing next to him.
"Yes sir," came the ever loyal, if confused, response. "I'll inform the other shift troopers."
"Good," he commends the storm trooper.
The two move through the heavy doors as soon as they finally decided to open for the pair, and Tarahmes finds himself at a 3-way fork. Tarahmes glances at his father, looking for some indication of what to do next.
"You can make no wrong choice," Darth Sidriss says. "But you must make a choice."
"What do you mean?" Tarahmes asks confused about the need for a choice on his part.
"These three hallways will lead you to a different lesson in your training. You eventually will have to go through all of them, but I want to see where you wish to begin," Sidriss explains. "Use your feelings, you do not need to know where each path will take you."
Tarahmes takes a step that places him directly in the middle of the intersecting hallways, and closes his eyes. Turning in a slow circle, he lets his mind wander aimlessly until he finally gets a feeling that makes him want to stop. Opening his eyes, he sees that he is facing towards the left hallway.
"Interesting," Darth Sidriss mumbles before he moves to the door that his son chose.
Entering the room, which is darker than the hallway they came from, Tarahmes finds himself standing on the upper level of a room that seems to be geared towards generating the feel of a pit. The 15-foot high upper level circles completely around the room with only 1 set of stairs to take you down to the lower level without inflicting pain on yourself. Tarahmes descends down the stairs, which are directly in front of the entrance to the room.
"What lesson is this?" Tarahmes questions.
"This is where you will begin and practice your light saber techniques." Darth Sidriss says from the upper level. "But first, you must have a multitude of questions for me. So I will allow you three before each training session."
"When we were together, before the accident, you were a Jedi Master," Tarahmes states rather than asks. He continues slowly, as if carefully wording his question. "You are now a Sith Lord. What has changed? Your abilities seem the same."
"An excellent first question, you are indeed wise for your age." Darth Sidriss continues his purposeful walk around the upper level while Tarahmes stands in the middle of the pit. "The Jedi are single minded, they fear power because they are not strong enough to command it properly. Jedi preach of peace, yet wield the same deadly weapons and abilities a Sith does. The Jedi speak of the light side of the Force, which is their major weakness."
"And a Sith?" Tarahmes presses eagerly.
"The Sith seek power more openly. They do not speak such contradictions and hypocrisies as a Jedi does, but rather embrace all aspects of the Force, the dark and light side." Darth Sidriss explains. "Rather than try to mask their quest for strength, a Sith will do whatever he feels necessary to better himself and rise above those around him. Emperor Palpatine, the Dark Lord of the Sith, has created this Empire by asserting his strength in both the political field, and the battlefield. What else do you wish to know?"
Tarahmes turns his head around, without moving his body, as he tracks his father's movements and contemplates his next question. "What of the Force?"
"The Force is what makes you powerful. That feeling you had when you hunted down your mother's killers was the Force flowing through you. It truly is a field of power that surrounds every sentient being. Some are born with a connection to it, some are completely cut off from it, but the exceptional sentients have a deep connection to the Force. The deeper your connection to the Force, the less of a connection you have to your physical, mental, and bodily limitations. Through meditation you can strengthen your bond to the Force and increase your power exponentially." Darth Sidriss tantalizes Tarahmes with the explanation. "The Force comes much easier when you feel rage or intense purpose, but true mastery comes when you can call upon that power when calm. This will provide you with even more power than you can imagine."
Tarahmes watches his father carefully and notices the light saber at his hip with a smile. "Tell me, master, when will I get my own light saber?"
"For now you will be using an old saber I built a long time ago. But you must build your own light saber at the conclusion of your basic light saber training." Darth Sidriss explains.
"When will that be?" Tarahmes asks, excitement bubbling in his stomach.
"Enough questions," Darth Sidriss cuts his son off. "It's time to begin."
Reaching deeper within his cloak Darth Sidriss pulls out another metallic cylinder that's shorter than the one hanging off of his belt. It has a smooth surface with no distinguishing features except for the contoured grip in the middle of the handle. Darth Sidriss activates it suddenly and the resounding snap and hiss announce the appearance of the crimson blade. He waves it around lazily, letting the hum fill in the silence between the two as Tarahmes watches, entranced.
"This, will be your practice weapon so get a good feel for it," Darth Sidriss finally deactivates the weapon after making a few attacking motions. "Now take it."
Tarahmes closes his eyes and reaches out with his hand aimed at his father on the upper level. He recalls the Force and channels it through his hand, molding it around the light saber handle. Tarahmes slowly reels the Force back to himself pulling the light saber to himself.
"You need work," Darth Sidriss speaks pausing at the top of the stairs, hands behind his back. "You shouldn't have to call upon the Force. Even a Tusken Raider always has his bantha ready at a moments notice."
"Yes master," Tarahmes mildly remembers how unprepared the Tusken's were when his father arrived.
Activating the blade he feels it jump slightly as it comes to life. The snap-hiss slightly startling the young boy as the red blade springs to life just in front of his face. He begins to move his around feeling the light saber effortlessly follow his motions. He takes a step forward and stabs at the air with the blade. He brings he right foot up to his left foot and mimics a block, and spins whipping the blade in a dangerous cyclone around him. As he feels more and more comfortable the boy begins to move more and more trying more intricate moves. Imagining an opponent in his mind, he even begins to block, strike, and counter his opponent's telegraphed attacks.
"Enough," Darth Sidriss commands as he walks down the stairs. "You seem to have a natural talent for using a light saber."
"Like Aya and piloting?" Tarahmes sounds proud of himself.
"Exactly how accomplished is your sister?" Darth Sidriss questions the statement.
"She's a Class A, pilot." Tarahmes tells him.
"And what of your ranking?" Sidriss presses.
"I was ranked at C." Tarahmes sounds slightly deflated.
"Very good," Darth Sidriss compliments. "I will have to visit Aya. Back to training however."
At this, Darth Sidriss finally comes down the stairs onto his son's level. He soon begins to educate his son in the basics of light saber combat. Starting with the most important, defense, until he'd gotten good enough to practice different attacks.
Tarahmes was lying on his bed in his own personal room, after having just gotten out of the shower. He was exhausted, and had been dripping with nothing short of pure sweat. His father had sadistically decided that, because of his natural abilities with a light saber, he would completely learn a different form of light saber combat until he had learned all seven. Tarahmes sat up in bed at this thought, and smiled in self-achievement. It had taken him only about 12 standard hours, but he'd gotten just about all the lessons for Shii-Cho down by heart. Of course the first form was always the easiest and he still had yet to master them to the point of easy recall, but nonetheless, Tarahmes felt confident he could learn them all easily. Lying on his back, eyes closed gently, Tarahmes felt a familiar presence enter his mind.
"Yes father?" He questions before Sidriss can think.
"It seems I have more time than I had originally thought," Sidriss explains.
"How so?" Tarahmes is curious.
"I had hoped to have a report on a group trying to reform the rebellion," Sidriss responded. "He was late, unfortunately."
"When will he have it?" Tarahmes responds, unknowing of the punishment the officer had received.
"You wish to know how much time we will have?" Sidriss interprets.
"Yes, father."
"His successor shall have it in a standard day." Sidriss tell his son. "Enough questions. You may ask me only 3 more. After you have returned to the training sector."
"Yes, master," Tarahmes, notes the subtle change in the relationship's status intelligently.
Tarahmes groans, as he swings his legs off of the edge of the bed and stands. He stretches his arms and yawns widely, then shakes his head to clear it. Then he walks towards the door and stops when it refuses to open.
"A challenge perhaps?" Tarahmes thinks a little harder than he intended.
Opening his palm towards the door, Tarahmes tries to gather his power as quickly as possible, and pushes a wave of Force out at the door. Rather than it simply slide open, the seam where the doors meet are blown outwards, as if by a rancor tackle, and leaves a gap wide enough for him to squeeze out of. Tarahmes shakes his head in an almost joking but self-scolding manner, and thinks about what his father will say upon the discovery.
"He most likely will be disappointed that the hole is so small," Tarahmes thinks to himself, hoping his father wasn't in his mind.
Darth Sidriss felt a pressure in the back of his mind, and realizes his son must have broken out of the room. Wondering if the pressure meant he had used a Force push, rather than a bit of manipulation, he turns from the bridge and steps into the lift. Before the doors close an ensign approaches him in a breathless rush.
"My lord!" he calls out.
"Yes ensign?" Darth Sidriss speaks in a baritone deeper than his children knew of.
"Our intelligence reports the rebels gathering their strength on Bandomeer."
"Wise," Sidriss says to himself softly. "Set course for the system, but do not approach the planet until I give specific instruction to."
The cause for this cautious approach is because of the valuable Ionite in the mines of the planet. Normally this would be insignificant, except for Ionite's tendency to scramble electronic fields. On a star destroyer based almost exclusively on electronics, to land on the planet would be foolish. While it was true that the Ionite is deep under the surface, and a landing and takeoff will not likely be interrupted, nor the orbit they most likely will take, bringing a large amount of Ionite to the surface to sabotage the ships would be so simple that it would be difficult to stop.
"Yes my lord," the ensign bows and leaves with his instructions.
The doors close after Sidriss released his Force-induced hold on it, and let his mind sink into the Force as the lift lowered itself to his destination. Opening his eyes when the doors slide apart, Sidriss notices his son walking towards the doors. Stepping out of the lift, Sidriss waits a moment to see if his son can sense him.
"Why the wait Father?" his son speaks in his mind taking him off-guard. It had always been one way before; his son's only way of contacting him was to call out to him and hope he noticed. Of course he had always answered his son's mental calls, but now, his thoughts were inside his mind.
"Why the rush son?" he replied. "A wise Sith questions very little and investigates as much as possible."
"Yes master," came the shifted reply.
"Go straight ahead when you enter the doors."
"Halt," the two troopers raised their enormous blasters upon the approach of Tarahmes. His small stature didn't suit his confident walk, and look of anger when they stopped him startled the trooper. "State your name and purpose."
"I am Tarahmes Idrissa, and I intend to enter this room," came the quiet reply. Not a timid kind of quiet, but a dangerous tone was in it.
"Yes sir, I apologize." The troopers lowered their weapons in understanding. This boy wasn't worried because he had authorization from the most powerful being on the ship.
"You have one standard week to weed out the apologies. Then punishments will be handed out," Tarahmes explained moving through the doors.
"You handled that well," a deep voice speaks to Tarahmes when he stood outside of the door straight across from the entrance to the training section.
"Thank you, master." Tarahmes answers, his eyes on the door. "My door did this too."
"I should hope you didn't use a Force push." Sidriss says. "A bit of technique would have handled it in a cleaner manner."
"Actually, there's a nice dent in the doors, just wide enough for me to squeeze through it." Tarahmes admits. He was about to apologize when he remembered how much his Father detested mistakes followed by apologies instead of corrections. "I'll be sure to seal it back when I return to my quarters."
"You learn well my Padawan." Darth Sidriss could barely push the pride and excitement, at the prospect of such a wise son as a student, from his voice.
"Thank you, Master,"a pause followed. "So what plans do you have set for me now?"
"You must deepen your bond to the Force. Until it reaches as deep as the oceans of Kamino." Darth Sidriss explains.
"This being my first test?" Tarahmes cocks his head at the door.
"Get to work," Darth Sidriss simply says beginning to pace behind Tarahmes.
Tarahmes closed his eyes and felt for the power inside of him. Connecting to it, he channels it towards the door, feeling around for what he needed to trigger the door locks. Opening his eyes, Tarahmes notices his father still walking back and forth behind him. Suddenly the image of the door opening flashes in Tarahmes' mind and he grabs a hold of the mechanism quickly. A quick twist with his mind and the doors leap to life, sliding open as if activated by a switch.
"Well done, my Padawan." Darth Sidriss commends.
"Thank you, Master."
The enter the room, which is dark inside, having no source of light except a mild blue glow that seemed to emanate from the room itself. The floor was soft like sitting on a firmer version of a bed and very comforting to sit on. Not waiting for the command, Tarahmes moves to the middle of the room and adopts a kneeling meditative posture.
"Relax your mind," Darth Sidriss instructs, circling his son with his hands clasped behind his back. "Find your power and submerge your mind into it."
The familiar feeling of power sweeps over the young boy, filling his small frame.
"I want you to call that power to yourself and let it empower you completely. Draw it out, as a storm trooper draws his blaster, for he never conceals it within his armor. I want you to hold your weapon out in the same manner." Darth Sidriss commands, feeling his son grow stronger. "Good, you will soon find even difficult tasks, such as manipulating a door, will quickly take less than a mere thought to perform."
The more Tarahmes sat in a meditative position, the stronger he actually felt. He soon began to tune his father's general instructions out and let the Force move through him as completely as his own blood. The feeling was incredible, and he soon found himself not wanting to stop. In the 45 standard minutes, he already could feel his mental prowess growing, and could even tell that repairing his door wouldn't be very tricky.
Sensing his father had new information, his mind refocused on the Sith's words.
"Now reach out with your mind, my Padawan." He spoke in a slightly deeper voice than he'd started the exercise with. "On this ship there is a traitor, who would seek to fertilize the seeds of a rebellion."
"Father," Tarahmes interrupts in a serene voice. Sidriss turns his head to his son, "may I have a hooded cloak like yours?"
"If you can accomplish this task," Sidriss speaks after an interested pause. "You will have a cloak, and we will build your light saber."
"In that case," Tarahmes stood. "Let us find this traitor."
