Chapter XXIX - A New Apprentice
The skyway was busy outside the penthouse windows as speeders and freight carriers rushed by in both directions. The hazy, orange-red fog that seemed a permanent fixture on Nar Shaddaa made the buildings on the far side look surreal in the twilight. Nar Shaddaa's day was much longer than the Standard Galactic Day, eighty-seven hours long to be exact, because the moon was tidally locked to Nal Hutta, the planet it orbited. Thus, it was almost noon Galactic Standard Time (GST) but heading into a fourteen-hour evening on Nar Shaddaa. The local time adjustment was often very confusing for travelers, so most stayed on GST to make it simple. Time was on my mind at the moment because Doctor Ragenstaub was due to show up at noon.
I was sitting in the penthouse bedroom across from Ashara's, which I had made my office by stowing the bed vertically against the wall and bringing a couple of chairs from the living room to place in front of the desk. It made sense to be closer to my companions while we were on Nar Shaddaa. Staying on the ship was more comfortable for me, but made me feel disconnected from Andronikos especially, who seemed to be enjoying his time on the smuggler's moon. I never really cared too much about what he did in his private time, but he seemed to be acting more independent lately; something I was not sure I liked. The morning was quiet, and I actually took some time to relax and finish the novel I had started before traveling to Taris weeks ago. I was feeling better, physically and mentally, and that was welcomed after eight days of turmoil since waking up from the bacta tank on Quesh.
Part of my recovery was attributed to Ashara. We had developed a routine over the past few days, and keeping close to her balanced my darker moods. It caused mixed feelings in me to need someone else, as I did not like the vulnerability and dependency, but at the same time, it was nice to have companionship and a distraction from my brooding. She cooked fresh meals for us, giving me a more routine diet, we exercised and meditated together, and I went on her evening walks. I still did not understand why she stayed with me, but as we grew more accustomed to one another, I was glad that she did. Even now, as I sat in a comfy chair against the hallway wall, I could sense her calming Force presence from her bedroom. Was the dark-side, light-side paradigm real? Was I on the wrong side of the Force? Could the Jedi heal me of the darkness eating me from within? Those questions flittered at the edges of my mind, and I batted them away when they got close enough to challenge me, but they were there nonetheless. The door chimed while I was sitting in thought.
Andronikos and Ashara appeared from their rooms as I walked to the entrance. "It's the doctor," I stated, noticing Andronikos' look of concern.
Pez drifted out of Ashara's room chirping at me as his thrusters puffed to catch up. Doctor Ragenstaub was a tall blond woman in a sharp-looking gray business outfit. I showed her down the hall to my office, and she set her large medical case down on my desk as Ashara poked her head in.
"Come in," I urged her. I was feeling a little anxious about the medical treatment and wanted her company. Pez chirped his agreement next to me.
The doctor glanced over her shoulder and did a double-take when Ashara walked up before turning back to her case. The padawan looked at me with a slight grin and sympathetic eyes. We watched the doctor open her case and begin setting up medical equipment that looked complicated and imposing. She had a confident way about her, efficiently connecting parts and cables together, turning consoles on, and inspecting menus and notices as the equipment came online.
Doctor Ragenstaub rechecked everything before turning back toward me, "I was told by Doctor Hursa that you are aware of the treatment that we will be doing," she said in a businesslike voice.
"He said you would need to take some samples," I replied, looking at her equipment nervously.
"Yes, I will need samples, but first I would like to run some diagnostics to see how the arm is doing." She looked down at the ugly glove, and I found myself shifting to try and hide it. "Can we remove the glove? The diagnosis will be more accurate that way."
"It will cause her serious pain if she removes it," Ashara stated. The doctor turned to observe the padawan with interest, especially her curious head features.
"This is Ashara, my apprentice," I stated.
"Of course," the doctor said as she turned back to me quickly. "I can give you anesthesia to reduce the pain."
"I can't handle drugs very well," I mumbled.
"Oh," the doctor hesitated, "I didn't see any allergies listed in your records."
"It's not allergies," I sighed, glancing at Ashara and then back to the doctor, frustrated that I had to explain my past again. "I was forced into addiction when I was younger and can get a rather traumatic response to opioids and derivative drugs."
"I see," she replied with an appraising look. "I'm sorry to hear that." The doctor turned to sort through her case for a moment. "I have the equipment to give you a nerve block at the elbow. It's a little more involved and will include some paralysis of the lower arm, but it is amino amide based and should not cause any adverse effects."
I shrugged my shoulders, "sure, as long as it does what you say."
The doctor had me sit down in a chair and put my gloved hand up on the desk. Then she snapped a device over my elbow. "You might feel a small pinch," she warned while activating the control pad. I did not feel a thing, maybe because of the cybernetic glove, and in a moment the process was done and the doctor removed the device. "It's going to take a few minutes for that to work, so let me go over your treatment while we wait. I've got the first dose with me, but it needs to be programmed and produced. It will take a few days to do that because we need to analyze your blood and tissue samples first."
"A few days?"
"Yes, but don't worry. This appointment will be less than an hour and the next one less than fifteen minutes. I won't bother you more than that."
"Oh," I replied, "for a moment I was wondering if you needed to stay here."
"No," she dismissed the thought lightly, "the institute put me up in a nice hotel not far from here. The Mardomon District is very nice. I've been to Nar Shaddaa before but not in an appealing area like this." She glanced over at Ashara with curious eyes.
"There is a promenade not far from here that has some nice restaurants and shopping," Ashara offered politely as the woman continued to look at her.
"I think my room is right above that area," she replied. "I'm sorry to stare but I've not met a Togruta in person before. You're head appendages are very intriguing."
"Thank you, the ones on top are montrals and the tails are called lekku," Ashara responded, looking a little pleased with the attention.
"They're fascinating . . . well," the doctor turned back to me, "once the first dose is administered, it will take about two weeks to determine its effectiveness. Adjustments will be made to the procedure before a second dose will be administered, and that process will continue until you are healed."
"So, does that mean we will be having appointments every two weeks for months?" The idea sounded burdensome, especially for someone trying to lay low or disappear.
"We should meet for the first several months to ensure that everything is progressing properly. After that, the dose can be administered through a standard hypo-syringe."
"I see."
"It really shouldn't be that much trouble," the doctor added, sensing my hesitation. "The appointments will be brief. All of the technical and time-consuming work is done back at the institute."
"It's fine," I said with a slight wave of my hand, "I'm just being a pain."
"That's all right," she laughed softly. "To be honest you have been more pleasant than I expected." She noticed my aggravated look and realized she needed to explain further. "I've never met a Sith Lord in person either," she admitted as her eyes glanced between me and Ashara.
"Really? That seems odd considering you work on Dromund Kaas."
"I'm originally from Alderaan. That's where I went to university. My House, sort of like a clan or tribe, sided with independence from the Republic, and I met Imperial personnel while they were trying to assist in the negotiations. Those contacts led to an offer of post-graduate studies at the institute, which I accepted. Since I moved to Dromund Kaas, I've been mostly lab bound. Besides, there aren't that many Sith Lords, are there?"
"I suppose not. Did you expect me to be a monster?"
"No," she answered quickly, "I didn't mean to imply . . . sorry, I should have used better words. It's just that I've done some reading about the Empire's history . . . and . . . you hear stories." My aggravated gaze did not change, and she glanced away from me at her equipment. "Anyway, it's probably been long enough, why don't we see if the glove can come off?"
I looked down at my arm, sensing a strange numbness in the elbow. Reluctantly, I lowered the analgesic setting on the glove and was pleasantly surprised that pain did not rush up my arm like before. The glove had not been removed since it was put on, so it took time for me to figure out how to turn it off. Then, I worked a finger under the cybernetic sleeve on my forearm to release the contacts and pushed it down. The pale, bruised, and shrunken appendage that appeared as the glove came free made my heart sink. My hand almost looked alien, like it didn't belong to me.
The doctor seemed to notice my horror and gently took the glove from me to set it on the desk before laying a white cloth over the exposed arm. "That's good," she said in a steady voice, "the nerve block appears to have worked. Are you feeling any pain?"
"No," I answered, still staring down at the now-hidden arm. Panic rushed through me, and I felt like my breath was lost. In a burst of fear and anger, I flicked the cloth off with my left hand. "What's happened!" I choked out.
"Doo-zweep," Pez toned next to me.
"Okay," the doctor replied, her voice tense with worry, "sometimes it can be a bit of a shock when immobile limbs are exposed from a cast or sleeve . . ."
"It's only been three days!" I continued to panic. There were bruised spots all over the forearm and hand, the fingers looked like an old woman's, and dead skin was flaking off, giving it a sick appearance.
"I understand your concern, but stay calm. The immunosuppressants have had several days to reverse your autoimmune response, and the damage to the arm is mostly stopped."
"You can't fix this," I said hopelessly.
"That's what I am here for," the doctor said in a measured voice.
"Don't lie to me!" I hissed at her, my anger boiling up.
"Beep-duooh," Pez sounded softly.
Doctor Ragenstaub flinched back at my words and heated gaze, a moment of panic flashing across her professional demeanor as she likely remembered some of the Sith stories she spoke of. "I wouldn't lie to you, my Lord, and neither would Doctor Hursa. Your medical record was thoroughly analyzed, and though the process will not be easy, we believe that there is a good chance of success."
"How?" I asked, cynical yet desperate for some glimmer of hope.
"It's not as bad as it looks," she said slowly. "Some of the bruising is from the implants, and the muscle is slightly atrophied due to a lack of activity. We can wash the dead skin off and it will look better."
"How are you going to fix this hideous stump?" I asked more harshly. It was not her fault, yet I found myself lashing out. The anger had to go somewhere because there was no more room within me.
"Let me run the diagnostics," she answered, turning to her instruments in a hurry. She worked for about twenty minutes, first cleaning the arm with medical wipes before taking instruments and performing scans. Then she drew several blood and tissue samples from the scar of repaired flesh where Cineratus' hateful blade swept through. With her diagnostics and sampling done, she sat down in the chair next to me and turned on her tablet. As she was looking at the diagnostic results, I had the chance to calm down; feeling Ashara's presence bolstering me. The arm did look a little better cleaned up, and the shock had worn off a bit, but doubts were hard to ignore.
With her assessment complete, the doctor looked back at me. "Your white blood cell count is still elevated around the injury, but it has been significantly reduced. It appears from the scans that the focus of your autoimmune response was the bone matrix used to piece the forearm back together, once that area became inflamed, your immune system started attacking nerves and blood vessels as well, which led to the pain and additional bruising. That's good news because if it's the matrix, we should be able to determine the offending compounds and remove them through chelation, which is a more robust process than the alternatives. I've got the equipment back at the hotel to process your samples and then the team on Dromund Kaas can begin to program the microbots for their task."
We sat and looked at each other for a moment. She seemed to expect a response but I had no words to say. "Do you have any questions?" I shook my head, and she stood up to begin putting her things away.
I glanced behind me at Ashara who was watching the doctor until she sensed my gaze on her. When our eyes met, I could see the same concern in her that I felt myself. She gave me a weak smile and then went back to observing the doctor. I felt that my hand was a lost cause then, that I would be a cripple for the rest of my life. That oppressive weight made me close my eyes and reach out in the Force toward the padawan. She was the only peace I could sense at that moment. When Ashara felt my Force aura reach out to her, she responded the way she had before, surging her aura back to bolster me.
"Would you like help putting the glove back on?" I heard the doctor ask. I opened my eyes and saw that she had activated a small cleaning robot from her case which was moving around inside the glove disinfecting and cleaning with miniature brush and swab arms. Pez drifted over the desk to observe the metallic object move around on small mechanical legs.
"How long do I have before the pain comes back?" I asked.
"The nerve block will last several more hours and the pain will increase slowly, so you will have time to react before it grows uncomfortable."
My eyes focused on the cybernetic glove and the cleaning robot. "I'll wait," I replied, "I hate that thing worse than my withered hand."
"Okay," she replied, looking back at the glove on the desk. "Has the cybernetic enhancement been helpful?"
"It's been useless," I grumbled. "The pain blocker has to be set so high that it cuts off all nerve activity and the implants don't work."
"You know," she added when she started closing up her case, "I might have a way to block the pain without numbing the entire arm."
"How so?" I asked with interest. It was the first glimmer of hope I had heard since the glove came off.
"I did my understudy on neurotoxins. . ."
"Neurotoxins?" I chirped, "how can filling me with poison help?"
"I won't poison you," she replied with a shake of her head. "Actually, much of the drugs that we commonly use were discovered or produced by neurotoxins. It's quite a fascinating field. Botulinium, for example, has been used for centuries in many medical applications. In small doses, neurotoxins can have therapeutic instead of toxic effects."
"So how will pumping my arm full of neurotoxins change things?" I asked skeptically.
"Pain nerves are different from other nerves, they're called nociceptors. There are several neurotoxins that target nociceptors. Some biting insects use them to numb their victim while being bitten. I think we can program the microbots to deliver neuronal blocking to the affected nociceptors without inducing numbing or paralysis. It's not opioid-based, but we should do a test to see if you have an allergic reaction to the neurotoxin. If you don't, the process should be able to block your pain and allow you to begin using the cybernetics."
"How quickly can this be done?" I asked eagerly.
"I can come by later to prick your skin with the neurotoxin, and if you don't have a reaction, we could potentially add it to the first dose of microbots."
"I would like that."
The doctor picked up her case and appeared ready to leave.
"You forgot your robot," I mentioned while pointing at the desk.
"Click-zweep-Bleep," Pez added, not sure about the little crawling thing.
"It's not done cleaning yet, and I think you should keep it. It will help you maintain better glove hygiene."
"Thank you," I replied.
We escorted the doctor to the door. "I don't mean to impose," she said, pausing in the doorway, "but your case means a lot to the institute and Doctor Hursa. He said so himself, and I want to make sure I do my full diligence. I can see that you are dealing with very strong emotions, and scans show high levels of stress and anxiety . . ."
"Is that a surprise to you?" I asked curtly.
"No, and I'm not being critical. It's just that healing is as much mental and emotional as it is physical. Some of the scans indicated unusual brain activity, and you've experienced trauma recently as well as in your past as you mentioned. I have a minor in psychology, and I worked as a counselor for several years while in school. If you wanted, I could help you process some of the emotions you are struggling with."
"Wow," I answered flatly, "a neurobiologist, biochemist, and psychologist. Is there anything you can't do?"
"It's not about me," she replied tersely, sensing my sarcasm, "I was just offering my help."
"No, thank you," I glanced sideways at Ashara, "I've got enough going on in my head already."
"Very well," she nodded. "I'll call you when I'm ready to return for the allergy test."
After saying goodbye to Doctor Ragenstaub, I walked back to my office, and Ashara followed me. My emotions were still roiling inside when I sat down at my desk and looked at the cybernetic glove. The little robot appeared to be done and was sitting idle next to the cuff.
"Maybe you should consider her offer about counseling," Ashara said gently. "You have a lot bottled up inside you."
"That's the last thing I want; some mind-bender fooling around in my already twisted head." I looked down at my sickly arm, thankful that it was not in the glove, but barely. The moment the lightsaber blade severed my hand flashed into my mind, and the horror of that moment now seemed mild compared to the struggle before me. For a brief moment, I wondered if it would be better to just give up on the hand, but I physically shook my head to eradicate that thought.
Ashara noticed me shake. "It's not as bad as it seems," she tried to reassure me, "the doctor had a lot of positive things to say."
"Do you want your hand to look like this?" I asked bitterly as I held up my numb arm.
"I get it," she replied, "but you have to keep your hopes up. You've got some very capable doctors working to help you. I was impressed by Doctor Ragenstaub; she seems very knowledgeable."
"I don't trust her, and I didn't like the way she was eying you; like some new specimen for her to study."
Ashara laughed softly. "I get that sometimes. When you are an uncommon species, you get used to it." There was a quiet moment before she spoke again. "The doctor said something about unusual brain activity. Do you think she was detecting the ghosts?"
"Hell if I know, but that's another reason I don't want anyone poking around inside my head." I got up and paced away from the desk, not wanting to look at my hand or the stupid glove anymore and not wanting to talk about bothersome medical stuff.
"I'm hungry," Ashara said, seeming to sense my agitation, "why don't we go make some lunch?"
I needed the distraction, and my stomach wanted food, so I followed her to the kitchen. We went back to our routine until the moment I realized that the nerve block was wearing off. I went to my office and closed the door, wanting some privacy. Tantalizingly, before the pain grew too strong, I felt sensations in my fingers and even managed to move them a little. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to move my wrinkled, bony-looking pointer finger and saw it curl weakly at my command. Then the pain grew, and I was forced to slip the ugly mechanical glove back on. I fought against the pain for a moment longer to activate the cybernetics and test the settings. Concentrating on moving my fingers, I got the glove to curl my hand into a fist and then open it again, but it was erratic and clumsy. The glove lit up with red lights along the arm and fingers as the mechanics worked to move my hand. Finally, the pain grew too much, and I had to increase the setting beyond the threshold of the glove to function, and my arm went dead once again.
It was hard to deal with the jumble of emotions that came from the medical appointment and my hand being my own for a brief moment. My heart and mind were in turmoil as I went through the routine that afternoon, trying to meditate with Ashara and then eat dinner. Doctor Ragenstaub returned after we ate and gave me the test to determine if I was allergic to the neurotoxin. The test was negative, so she said they would try to work the pain blocking into the first round of treatment. After that, I went on Ashara's evening walk to get away and be distracted. She acted reserved rather than her talkative self, sensing I was lost in thought and not really there.
When we returned to the penthouse, a message came through from Lord Vashcar stating that he would be coming to Nar Shaddaa in three days. The thought of him being here prompted me to go to the Intrepid conference room and assess the artifacts. I had not been there in several days, focused instead on building a rapport with Ashara, and I felt a renewed fascination with the auras given off by the relics. Ashara stood next to me when I picked up the Thanaton holocron and held it up to my eyes. Reaching out in the Force, I focused within the holocron and activated it, making patterns light up on its surface.
"You turned it on," Ashara said as she looked at the intricately lit patterns. She must have sensed my use of the Force.
"Have you activated a holocron before?" I asked, giving her a sideways glance.
"We have training holocrons at the enclave, but they don't look anything like that," she answered.
I stepped over to the far end of the shelf and picked up my apprenticeship holocron, a ceremonial gift from Darth Zash for completing my training on Korriban. It contained a complete list of my accomplishments, some video recordings of my trials, and the basic Sith training code. Turning back to her, I offered it. "Can you activate this?"
She reached out and took it, holding the cube in her palm. "What is it?" She asked while looking past the object and into my eyes nervously.
"It is my promotional holocron, a harmless recording of events."
Ashara focused on the cube in her hand, and I felt a movement in the Force. It took some effort, but then the red triangle patterns on the cube flickered to life and a small hologram appeared above it showing a younger image of me in my acolyte robes.
"Doo-dweep" Pez toned smartly as he drifted close to the holocron in Ashara's hand.
The image started to rotate slowly as my holographic expression changed, and the small figure of me ignited its lightsaber. I grew nervous about her watching my training, not sure I wanted that history observed by her at the moment, but before I could act on my feelings, the hologram faded and the lights on the holocron dimmed.
"Something wrong?" I asked, wondering why Ashara shut it off.
"No," Ashara replied as she handed it back to me. "These artifacts give off a strange energy," she added with a wrinkled nose. "I don't like it."
"They do have an aura about them, but I don't think it's strange."
Ashara paced away, seeming to give herself distance from the relics. "They are different from the Jedi holocrons."
"Evil," I added with a frown.
"Different," she replied. Ashara knew I was frustrated with the good versus evil dichotomy. Though she did not agree verbally, I could see the word 'evil' written in her eyes.
For a while, I tried to break through the barriers inside Thanaton's holocron but got only as far as before. I set the relic down in frustration and left the conference room. Ashara followed me to my room and we began to get ready for bed.
Later, when we were trying to sleep, Ashara rolled over to look at me. "This morning with the doctor, you introduced me as your apprentice," she stated in a curious voice.
"It seemed the most logical thing to say," I replied. "I didn't want to get into a long explanation." Her eyes looked at me suspiciously before she rolled back over and adjusted the covers. "Why do you bring that up?" I asked.
"It just sounded strange," she replied after a thoughtful pause.
I could not sleep after that. Time passed as I lay with my eyes open, observing the small patterns of weave in the Tatooine heavy thread gauze draped across my ceiling, lit softly by the sand-colored glow globes. Tatooine seemed so long ago to me, almost another life when everything looked promising. That was before my masters tried to kill me. I thought bitterly about how I got here and how impotent I felt to change my downward path. Running away still seemed like my only option, despite the efforts of others to help me. Gently I rolled on my side to look at Ashara. In the dim light of the globes, I could see that she was asleep, her body rising and falling gently in steady breaths. Laying on her side away from me, her right lek was out of the covers, twitching and shaking gently to some dream she was having. I did not know her reason for staying with me, but I needed her. The sense that she would change her mind and decide to leave worried me, and though we were getting along better, things still felt awkward between us. I needed something more permanent, which meant things had to change.
Mid-afternoon the next day, I collected my lightsaber, a small saber toolkit, and the case containing my apprentices' things from Quesh. Sitting down at my desk in the penthouse, I laid out the apprentices' and my lightsaber. I hadn't inspected or ignited mine since the duel with Cineratus, and it was a psychological hurdle that I needed to get over. Sitting introspectively in front of the panoramic window looking out over the Nar Shaddaa cityscape, I examined my lightsaber hilt. It looked in order with only a little scuffing on the plexiform hand grip. I held it out in my left hand and ignited the weapon. A clear, sharp beam of pinkish-red light shot forth and steadied, filling the room with a high-pitched hum.
It felt bittersweet to hold the weapon and have it glowing before me. The crystal within channeled energy in a way that harmonized with the wielder, so the power of the blade felt personal and comforting. The Force essence of the crystal was a welcome boost to my mood, but holding the weapon in my left hand was awkward and reminded me of what I had lost. As I took a moment to meditate staring into the reddish beam, Ashara stepped into the room.
"I thought I heard a lightsaber ignite," she stated, her tone flavored with mild surprise.
"Dweep," Pez toned harshly as he drifted past Ashara and came over to me, his red eye watching my weapon warily. "Beep-twerble-zwip-zweep," he added just as harshly.
"Settle down; I'm not going to fight anyone," I sighed.
Turning the blade from vertical to horizontal, I looked past it at the padawan as she walked up to the desk. Hearing the hum of my weapon and sensing its bond to me in the Force made me want to keep it on and meditate for a while. "Do you have your weapon?" I asked.
Yes," she replied, "why?" The question was added when her hand drew her hilt off its belt; eyes growing suspicious.
"Would you like to learn a meditation technique with your lightsaber?"
"Okay," she replied.
"Sit down and ignite your weapon," I instructed.
Ashara did as I asked, and her bright blue blade appeared with a whoosh and lower-pitched hum than mine. Our weapons did not seem to play well together. Their tones were off, as was the frequency of vibrations, even the colors clashed. The contrast irritated me, not simply due to the dissonance but because it hinted at the duality; light versus dark. I could see by the way Ashara was looking at my blade that she was focused on that very thing. I'm not wrong! my mind fumed, or evil.
Pez shifted positions, his red eyes looking from Ashara's blue blade to my red. "Dweep-click-click-beep," he toned keenly.
"Have you practiced honing your blade?" I asked, trying to get past my irritated thoughts.
"Hone my blade?" she asked back.
"By focusing in the Force, you can subtly change the harmonic resonance of the crystal in your weapon. It has the effect of tightening the blade and potentially getting more power out of the crystal."
"Yes," she perked up, "we've done something like that in our sparring. Jedi are trained to focus on their blade and use it to produce a ward against Force powers."
"That is true – your weapon can be used to block Force powers from harming you, but that isn't really what I mean. Using the Force aura that the crystal provides and focusing it around your blade is one thing, concentrating on the crystal itself and how it gathers and harmonizes the Force is a different technique."
"What would be gained by doing that?" Ashara replied, a little resistant to changing her Jedi ways.
"I already stated that the technique can make the blade keener and provide your weapon more power, but there are other advantages as well. The crystal is the element of your weapon that channels the Force. Your crystal is specially made to be in tune with your Force nature, so when you meditate on the crystal, it is a more natural connection. I find that meditation is easier with my lightsaber on. Besides, focused meditation with and on the crystal helps with the forming of stronger wards and makes you more in tune with the flow of the Force. Shall we try it?"
"Okay," she nodded, still a little skeptical.
"Hold your blade vertically and meditate on the crystal within the hilt. Try to feel the Force emanating from it and see if you can alter its flow." We deliberated together for a while, and I tried to bring my lightsaber's pitch down to Ashara's, or at least get it into a compatible chord. After some effort, the hum did change slightly, causing the flickers in the red blade to alter as well.
"How did you do that?" Ashara asked, "I'm focusing but can't seem to change anything."
"It took some practice for me as well," I replied. "Try to concentrate on the Force energy pulsing in the crystal and then try to manipulate it, as you would with Force lift or choke."
She huffed after another moment trying, "I'm not very good at levitation," she complained, "and we weren't taught Force choke. It's a dark side skill."
I looked across at her with a frown. "What about Force crush? Choke is basically a controlled form of crush."
"They didn't want us crushing things either."
"That's absurd; how can the manipulation of the Force be considered evil . . . you know what, never mind." I saw the look of judgment on her face and did not want to get into a philosophical discussion about good versus evil. I looked back at my blade and closed my eyes. "You understand my point; concentrate on the Force within your crystal and then try to manipulate it." I stopped talking and worked to change my lightsaber's sound again. After about five more minutes of meditation, I shut my blade off and set the hilt on the desk.
Ashara shut her blade off as well and went to clip the hilt on her belt.
"Let me see your lightsaber," I said before she returned it to her side. Cautiously, she handed her hilt over the desk to me. I hefted it in my hand for a moment and then set it down on the desk next to mine. Ashara watched me thoughtfully as I sat quietly. Now was the time for change. "We cannot go on like this," I said with a serious tone.
"Duooh," Pez responded first, his red eye looking between us quickly.
"What do you mean?" Ashara asked.
"I mean that you either need to leave or make a commitment to me."
"Dweep-click," the floating droid shook his head sharply.
"Enough!" I snapped at him, "this conversation is not about you."
He puffed back from me, eye narrowed.
"A commitment?" Ashara repeated my words. "I don't know what . . ."
"I can't trust you," I cut in, "or operate on the premise that you could just decide to leave at any time. Especially now that I've grown . . . accustomed to you." I was going to say dependent, but my stubbornness revolted and changed the word.
Her eyes shifted, seemingly expressing her understanding. "I don't want to leave," she replied.
"Why?" I blurted out, the words driven by internal confusion. "Your motivations don't make sense."
"I've told you before . . ." she started.
"I don't believe you," I interrupted.
We stared at each other and I could sense Ashara pondering her words. "I'm doing what I think is right," she answered.
"The Force?" I asked.
She nodded slowly.
"Premonitions can be fickle and misleading," I added.
She nodded again. "I know."
"Well, if you insist on staying this course then we need to formalize our connection."
"What formality do we need?" Her voice sounded slightly nervous.
"You will become my apprentice, and I will complete your training."
"But I don't want to become a Sith," she replied with a nervous grin.
I gave her a stern look. To me this was serious, and I did not want it tainted by our casual relationship. "I will not train you to be a Sith, but a user and controller of the Force. Being Sith is in here," I said as I pointed to my heart, "and up here," I pointed to my head, "same as with being Jedi. I will not try to change your heart or break your mind. That battle will be your personal challenge, as it is for everyone."
Ashara recognized that I was being serious and her mood changed. She got up from her chair and paced away from the desk. Pez puffed after her. "How can you complete my training; you aren't a Jedi?" She asked as she turned back to me.
"Do you think the Sith are foolish of the ways of their adversary?" I let the question hang a moment. "Padawan Ashara Zavros; fourth year in training to Master Ryen, ready to begin the trials." She looked at me in surprise, especially due to the last part. "I know of the five trials a padawan must face, and examples of their successful completion. I can adequately test the limits of your training and provide evidence of your trial completion. What the Jedi will do with that information I cannot say.
"I will not stop there, however, you will be trained to the extent of my skill, and I will make sure you know all you need to defeat me, should you so choose. That is the Sith way."
"Why would I want to defeat you?" she asked in shock.
"I cannot answer that, nor is it my responsibility. When I am done training you, however, you will be competent enough to challenge me."
"I don't want to challenge you," she replied, stepping back to the desk.
Pez looked like he wanted to say something but remained silent, his little orb shifting quickly to focus his eye on me and then the padawan.
"Well, that is what I offer. If you wish to stay with me, then an apprenticeship is the only way."
"I don't even know what an apprenticeship entails." She looked down at the floor, seeming conflicted. "Can't we just be friends?"
"I'm not good with friendships," I answered.
"We seem to be getting along well."
"That's not enough for me. I want a deeper commitment."
"You want control," she stated shrewdly.
"Believe what you want," I countered defensively, "but I will not negotiate."
"What does an apprenticeship require of me?"
"We will continue the routine that we established with meditation and exercise, but with added training and dueling."
"Dueling?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes, you will be trained in the Sith duel and will learn the ways of combat."
"But no dark side skills." She caveated.
"We will discuss your issues with dogma," I muttered. "I do not believe in the bifurcated Force, so I don't share your qualms about skills."
"You won't force me to do anything against my will though, right?"
I leaned forward. "There will be many times you will feel that I've pushed you too far or bossed you around, but I am doing those things for your benefit. That would be my responsibility as your master. If you feel I am harming you through my training, then we will discuss your issues and resolve them."
Her eyes studied me. "That kind of talk makes me nervous," she replied.
"Maybe it should," I added. "I take the duty to train you seriously and would expect that you do the same as my apprentice. What's more, you will defer to me in public."
"What does that mean?" she said with a frown.
"It means that you will walk behind me, not talk unless spoken to, and address me as master. While training and in public, you will do what is asked of you without question or hesitation. If you need my attention, you will address me as master and wait for me to respond before speaking further. During private times together, we may suspend the formalities and speak candidly."
She seemed to bristle at my words. "I don't like the sound of those rules."
"It is the way of the Sith," I replied coolly.
"Are you making this difficult so that I will choose to leave?"
Part of me wanted her to leave, the loner part, but it was growing smaller as we spent time together. "No," I answered, "I have grown accustomed to your presence, and it is helping me."
Ashara seemed to appreciate my words, but her gaze was still tinted with concern. "The commitment seems a little overwhelming," she replied, "can I have some time to think about it?"
"Today," I answered.
She nodded, picked up her lightsaber, and walked out.
"Beep-duooh," Pez warbled before puffing after her.
That evening, while walking together back from the promenade, Ashara made her decision. "I'm nervous about it, but I will become your apprentice."
"Beep-tribble-dweep," Pez toned excitedly, using his thrusters to circle us both at head height.
I shot a glare at the droid before nodding my head at Ashara. "There's no need to be nervous. I will continue to treat you with respect and courtesy, even more so now that I have a duty to you. Being a slave most of my life has taught me the damage that humiliation and domination does to one's spirit. I would not ruin your growth with such treatment."
"Well, that's a relief," she stated lightly, "but the formality seems like a burden. I would prefer to be treated like a friend."
"We will be much more than friends," I countered. "The commitment is very serious and will make us closer than friends, more like sisters with a bond that cannot be broken."
"Except I have to call you master."
"Do you think I am undeserving of the title?"
"It's just that . . ." she began to equivocate.
"The formality will protect you in Empire space, it will remove ambiguity between us, and you will be surprised about how much I can teach you."
"Maybe there are things I can teach you," she added, giving me a confident look.
"Good, then we can help each other. Being the master does not make me better than you. You have seen enough of my soul to know that. I will be your master until you learn everything I can teach you, and then you will exceed me."
"Okay," she agreed. "I'd still rather we become friends, though."
"Fine," I relented, "in private we can be friends."
"Dweep," Pez seemed to add his agreement, even though no one asked for it.
"So, is there anything Sith do to commemorate the commitment?" she asked with a more hopeful expression.
"Commemorate, what do you mean?"
"Do they wear something like a padawan braid, which I can't do because I don't have hair?"
"The Sith have no marking like the padawan braid." I looked over at Ashara's lekku. "What did the Jedi do for species that had no hair?"
"They allowed for an accent that could dangle off the head like a braid. Some wore a chain of beads or a braided cord."
"Why don't you have one?" I asked.
She gave me a funny look. "I have a chord of kazarva grass threads with small akul teeth on the end. The night we met I was getting ready for bed and took it off, but before falling asleep I felt something urging me to go back outside. I changed into my clothes again but forgot to put the chord back on."
"Interesting," I said with a glance her way, pondering what provoked her to return to the ruins.
"It's in the box of things Master Ocera brought me, but after everything that's happened, it didn't feel right to put it on again." We walked along in silence for a while. Ashara seemed deep in thought. "It feels like there should be some outward sign of our commitment; maybe a ring or a necklace?" she wondered out loud.
"Are you angling for another shopping spree?" I complained.
"It would be fun," she responded.
"Sith tradition doesn't have commemoration jewelry for apprenticeships." I looked over at her while answering and saw a little frown touch her lips. "However, I'll think about it," I added, wondering why I should care about her happiness.
Back at the penthouse, I asked Ashara to come to my office and work on her lightsaber with me. I began to take apart my saber hilt, intent on cleaning it and removing the scuffs on the handle. Ashara took hers apart as well, laying out all the pieces in order across the desk. Then we meticulously cleaned each of the parts and inspected them for wear or damage. during our cleaning, I reached over and picked up the blue crystal that was the core of her weapon. I could feel the very faint currents of the Force vibrating in the crystal's lattice. "Tell me about your crystal," I asked.
She proceeded to tell me a story about her trip to Ilum and the gathering ceremony when the younglings graduated. She had to go alone into a cave and select her crystal. Strangely, as she spoke, I began to feel the attunement of the crystal to its owner. The Force vibrations emanating from it echoed the Force aura around Ashara.
"You chose well," I replied after she finished, "I can feel the crystal's affinity to you."
"Thank you," she said with a smile as I handed her back the blue shard.
"Can I see yours?" she asked.
For effect, I concentrated and lifted the red crystal with the Force. Levitation was not my strongest skill, but the bond I had with the crystal made it easier to control. I drifted it gently over to Ashara and let it fall slowly as she cupped a hand out to receive it. She inspected it in the palm of her hand and then took it between her fingers. I could tell by her reaction that she did not like the resonance coming from within.
"It's strange," she sighed as she turned it over in her fingers. "I can feel more energy in it than mine, but it's harsher. That's maybe not the right word."
"I know what you mean," I replied. The synthetic crystals were designed to pack more power in the crystal lattice, but that sacrificed some of the harmonic resonance compared to natural shards. If one wanted to use a synthetic crystal, one needed to fight it into submission through their own will.
"How did you select it?" she asked, handing it back to me.
"I didn't select it, I made it."
"How is a kyber crystal made?" she looked surprised.
I explained to her about my journey to collect the ingredients of my crystal and then the grueling process of meditation and focus while the crystal was being formed in the forge at the base of the Sith Citadel on Dromund Kaas. When I was done explaining how synthetic crystals were made, we began to put out sabers back together. Ashara levitated her blue crystal into her hand seemingly to show me that she could do it too and was getting ready to place it into the hilt.
"Hold on a minute," I said. Reaching over to Kaal's broken hilt, I took a minute to remove his crystal. Then I placed it on the desk next to Ashara's hilt. "Use this one."
"Why?" she asked with a frown.
"Zweep-click," Pez toned, his orb shaking back and forth.
"I didn't ask you, droid." I shot him a glare before turning back to Ashara. "Apprentices are not supposed to question their master," I chastised.
"We're in private," she countered.
"You need to ask for candid communication, even in private." I saw her look of frustration and realized that the transition to master and apprentice was going to be difficult. "I want you to use the red crystal because no self-respecting Sith would carry a blue lightsaber."
She frowned again as she picked Kaal's crystal up and examined it. "It's not attuned to me."
"It will do for now," I replied.
Reluctantly, she placed the crystal into her lightsaber and finished putting the rest of it together. While she was doing so, I took a part off of the top of Kaal's hilt that was not damaged. I stopped her when she was getting ready to put the blade emitter shroud onto the top of the hilt.
"Give me your lightsaber," I requested.
She handed over the hilt. I placed the regulator from Kaal's weapon onto the ring tuning flange and then picked up the emitter shroud and finished constructing her hilt. When it was done, I looked at the part I had inserted and set a small grooved dial on it to the lowest setting.
"Ignite your weapon," I instructed, handing it back to her.
"What did you do to it?" she asked as she inspected the new part unhappily.
"Just do as I say."
She held the weapon out in front of her and clicked it on. A bright ruby-red beam burst forth with a hum a little closer to mine and a slightly wavy blade. "The blade is narrower and it doesn't seem to have as much power," she complained. I could tell by the look on her face that she did not like the color.
Pez huffed his thrusters back and shook his little frame at me to display his disagreement as well.
"Tap your blade on the edge of the desk," I stated.
"What?" her head spun to look at me in shock.
"It won't cause any damage."
She looked at me incredulously.
I stood up, went to her side, took her wrist, and dipped the blade against the desk. The weapon struck with a sputtering, hissing sound and bounced back but the desk was undamaged. "I placed a training regulator in your weapon so that we can duel safely."
She looked at her saber and then the desk, still unsure what she was seeing. I picked up my weapon and showed her that it too had a regulator. I set it to the proper training gauge and struck my weapon before tapping it on the desk the same way.
She seemed awestruck. "The Jedi have special training weapons for sparing. I can't believe you can do that to a real lightsaber."
"Tomorrow we will start your first day as my apprentice. We can test your red crystal and training setting then."
She picked up her Jedi crystal off the desk and held it in her hand. "If I don't like the red crystal, can I change back?"
"No," I replied, "a blue lightsaber will cause unwanted attention and suspicion."
She let it drop, but I could tell she was not happy.
Lying in bed that night, before we were both asleep. A thought edged back to the forefront of my mind. "Do you really trust me?" I asked.
"I'm hopeful," Ashara replied.
"I don't understand how you can be so confident in other people."
She glanced over at me in the dim light, "It's the way I've always been. Why, do you question my loyalty?"
"I question everyone's," I answered sadly.
"That must be difficult. Maybe you don't believe me, but I won't betray you willfully," Ashara answered.
"I want to believe that," I sighed in reply.
The conversation faded, and I tried to calm myself so that sleep would come. I had made a profound decision to make Ashara my apprentice, and I was not wholly convinced that it was the right choice. The ghosts were calm, as was my soul, and that was partially because of her. With Ashara, I would not be alone despite what was to come and where we would end up. She said that she wanted to be my friend, which was very trusting and somewhat reckless of her, but I could use a friend and wanted to believe that I could earn that friendship. It was a big change, becoming part of a team instead of being a loner, and it would cause more changes to come. My path needed to alter before I ended up dead. This was the first step in that direction.