Scylla woke from her nap with a languid stretch, enjoying the feeling of the cool jungle air on her skin. Blinking sleep out of her eyes, she reached for her pad and checked the current time-
"Ah crap, I'm late!"
-before jumping up and running across camp.
Adjusting to the local Day/Night cycle was a pain! Or Twilight/Night cycle, as the case may be.
For half the month, while the forest moon was on the Star-side of the Gas Giant, they had a normal day and night. But when it was on the Void-side, they have a sort of red twilight for half the rotation, then a normal night.
The Twilights looked really pretty, but the whole thing meant that it threw off the body-clock of non-natives, so now Scylla was late for her shift in the kitchen.
Jogging across the camp, she wove her way through soldiers doing solider stuff. Some were assembling buildings from purple-barked trees they'd been cutting down. Some were marching or running in formation. She noticed a group leaving the compound gates on jungle patrol.
A few waved to her as she passed and the blue twi'lek waved back.
"Hey Mel, sorry I'm late." She greeted the rotund gamorrean cook as she entered the kitchens and threw on an apron.
The green skinned cook gave a tusky smile in response. "No worries Miss Scylla, the shift's just starting." He brushed off her lateness without complaint.
The twi'lek straightened her back slightly, still a little off centre when the troops and workers called her 'Miss Scylla' like it was a title of respect. It was a good feeling, but not something she was used to.
Of course, they only treat her with respect because they thought she was Master Amon's bedwarmer. Not that she corrected them; the Tower Guard were well behaved for mercs, but they were still mercs. She'd have been pulled into someones bunk by now if they didn't think she was off limits.
The porcine chef bustled about the kitchen, getting things ready. "Done anything interesting today?"
The blue girl thought for a moment. "Er, not really. Just spent half the day directing the worker droids to move stuff, then attended Master Amon in his workshop."
Mel had started loading vegetables into a shredder when he gave an inquisitive hmm."Get to see any magic?" The gamorrean asked with clear interest; the rumours about his workshop were rampant in the camp.
The grunts would always speculate and talk shit about .. pretty much everything really. But the restricted workshop of an actual Sorcerer?
The stories people were passing around grew more crazy and far-fetched every day.
Scylla just shrugged while pouring blue milk into a big tub. "No magic today. He's just giving .. Jacen his lessons. Lots of meditation and talks on Force stuff." The twi'lek had to pause for a moment to remind herself Maul's assumed name.
Apparently he was wanted by someone. Someone scary enough that an ex-Sith now serving Master Amon wanted to avoid them.
Which was a terrifying thought.
So Maul continued to wear his helmet when in public and used an assumed name.
Since Scylla did not want to break his cover and draw attention from someone even Maul was avoiding, she religiously used the fake name he gave her.
Mel was silent for a while, as the shredder filled the kitchen with a whirr of dicing vegetables. "So, the rumours that one of the guys got insubordinate and Mister Amon turned him into a monkey. They true?"
Scylla paused for a moment to process the question, before bursting into giggles. "Wha- no. Who said that?"
"Reaaaly?" Mel regarded her with suspicious eyes. "I normally wouldn't believe one like that, but all of 3A troop said they saw it."
"No, that's silly-" Scylla made an 'ah' of understanding as she remembered something. "I know what that was. He didn't turn someone into a monkey. He just caught a monkey."
"He caught a monkey?"
"Yeah, one of those colourful ones with the pompom tails."
Mel nodded in understanding. "Oh yeah, the troops hate those things. They keep throwing stuff at the guys on the wall and the patrols." He took boxes of cut meat out of a storage locker. "They brought a few back to see if they could be cooked up, but the meat wasn't edible for most species. So now the troops just leave the ones they shoot."
"Hmm," Scylla nodded. "Yeah, so one must of strayed close to camp, so Master Amon grabbed it. Suppose the troops saw him carrying it or something."
"Yeah, probably." Mel agreed. "So, what did he want it for?"
The twi'lek just shrugged. "He's been testing a lot of the local animals and plants. I don't know if he's actually looking for something, or just .. I dunno, checking to see if all the Sith magic from the temple did something to the local animals?"
Mel shuddered. "Uh, yeah. That's probably a good idea. The zombies crawling out of the lake was ..." The gamorrean just trailed off, not sure how to finish.
"... yeah, that was freaky, even for me." She actually thought she was getting used to the weird magic stuff. Hell, she'd been living with a ghost for months now. But sudden zombie attack was still weird. She'd spent the attack in the cockpit, making sure the ship was prepped for emergency takeoff, just as ordered, so she was basically safe from the zombies, but it was still freaky.
That line of conversation died and the two lapsed into awkward silence for a few minutes, while preparing food for a hundred troops.
"So, anyway!" Scylla decided to change the subject. "I've been thinking about getting a pet, but I've never had one before. If I do, I'll probably buy one when we get back to Nar Shaddaa. What kind of pets do they have there?"
Mel 'oink'd' in thought. "Don't you already have the snake?"
"Well, sort of, I guess. He can't really do much, but he's still an intelligent being. More like a friend I take care of than a real pet." She thought for a moment. "Plus, I kind of want something cute and furry. Something I can cuddle."
"Something to cuddle?" Mel thought for a moment. "Well, lot of people on Nar Shaddaa have narglatch. Mostly as attack-animals, but they're really cure when they're young. Still vicious though, so they take a lot of work to train. And if you don't train them right, they'll kill you when they get big enough."
"Maybe not." Scylla thought about a dream she's been having, that put the thought of a pet in her mind. "Definitely something small. Small enough for me to pick up. And not kill me."
"Err, nuna are small. They're livestock, but I know some people keep them as pets. Well, in the blocks most people keep them as emergency food that can be kept on scraps. But they make okay pets until then."
Scylla turned around and looked at a box labelled 'Nuna Sausage.' "Nope, couldn't keep something I've cooked and eaten." She thought about that reoccurring dream again. "Plus, I definitely want fluffiness."
"Well, not many people in the blocks keep pets outside of attack-animals and emergency food, but I'm sure you can find something when we get back. You'd probably have to visit one of the nicer districts to find what you want."
Scylla nodded as she watched the fryer warm up. "Yeah. Hmm, I should probably ask Master Amon before I actually get one." At least, she thought she should ask. She wasn't a slave anymore, but he was still her boss, and the Captain of their ship and stuff. You were supposed to ask before bringing animals onto the ship, right?
--o-O-o--
Maul knelt in a meditative position, with his hands cupped in front, the Blue crystal levitating above his palms. He was ... not enthusiastic about bonding to the Jedi crystal, but Amon was firm in his instruction.
Amon held his hand above the Blue crystal. "Through Victory my chains are broken. The Force shall set me free." The crystal pulsated and lightning arced from it to Amon's hand. "The foundation of Sith philosophy, upon which all else is built. Freedom."
Maul felt the surge of power as the crystal resonated with Amon's incantation of the Sith Code. He felt the aspect of the Force attuned to it. Free as the sky. The wind will not be caged.
"There is a reason millions of Sith across history have possessed an inclination towards lightning." It took the Space Marine a while to figure it out after feeling the affinity of the Red crystals. But after looting the tower of that idiot Rur and claiming the Kyber Crystals within, he'd began to put the pieces together.
Maul could feel the essence within the crystal. Now that he was looking, he could feel the part of it that called to him. The desire to be free. Unchained and unbound.
"I can see why the Jedi are so fond of this aspect of the Force." Amon spoke in a lecturing tone. "The wind is a powerful force that can shape the landscape, at the same time, it will flow around obstacles and follow the path of least resistance. A powerful force that will eventually erode the mountains, but still gentle and yielding."
Yes, Maul could appreciate the choice now. The Jedi sought the less aggressive and destructive aspects of the Force, that would not consume them in its passions. But while a gentle breeze was hardly a force to be reckoned with, in the right conditions, the wind can become a raging storm that scours all before it.
The Blue crystal could be such a storm, if he drew upon it hard enough.
Maul looked upwards to the Astartes. "I can feel the draw of the crystal and I believe I could bond with it. But why move away from the aspect of the Force I know? Rage and passion are as fundamental to the Sith as freedom. And it gives us strength."
"If you could use that aspect responsibly, I'd allow you, but you constantly drown yourself in it. The Sith habit of surrendering your will to the Warp is disturbing. And more dangerous than you know."
Maul shook his head. "Surrendering? The Sith take the power of the Force and bend it to our will-"
"Ha!" Amon gave a single derisive laugh. "You throw yourself into the tide and allow it to carry you away, then call yourselves Lords of the Ocean. I've heard the teachings of Xeft and Kell. They advocate to throw open your connection to the Warp and greedily draw in as much power as you can."
Maul wanted to disagree, but remained silent for now.
"Why do you think so many Sith are deformed by corruption? Despite the lies they tell themselves, precious few could actually control the power they greedily drew in." Amon fixed the zabrak with a firm look. "You will learn control, or your teaching will go no further."
He'd seen the images of hundreds of Sith Lords held in the records looted from Xeft's Academy. The Astartes knew well the signs of corruption and knew the causes.
"To that end, you will learn to draw upon different aspects of the Force, starting with the Blue crystal. Now, recite the Sith Code and feel the resonance."
--o-O-o--
After dinner was served and devoured by the mercenaries, Scylla happily handed off the cleaning to a couple of troops who were on light punishment duty. Leaving the soldiers to scrub everything clean with tiny tiny brushes, the twi'lek made her way across camp to the landed Star Serpent.
Scylla paused when entering the ship. She could go to the common room and relax with a holovid, or she could go to the workshop and watch Master Amon. He was spending most of his time in there either teaching Maul, or studying all the stuff looted from the temple and she was feeling curious about all that Force stuff.
Deciding to satisfy her curiosity, she set off for the workshop.
"Hi Master Amon." The blue girl greeted as she entered the room. "Er, Master Amon?" She asked again in confusion when she couldn't see the Space Marine.
Instead, the centre of the workshop was swallowed up by a hemisphere of inky darkness. Like a dome of three dimensional shadows.
"Greetings child." Ghostly lights flicked in Xeft's eye sockets, from his resting place on a shelf.
"Hi Xeft. So, what's...?" She trailed off, gesturing to the area of darkness.
The undead Sith gave a hollow rattle. "Something looted from Rur's tower. A darkness generator of some kind. Amon seems to have plans for it, so has been tinkering with the object for several hours now."
The twi'lek gave an oh of understanding. "Did he step out for a bit, or is he in there?" She pointed to the dome of shadow again.
"Yes, he's in there right now. The darkness will probably fade in a moment and he'll be visible again. He's activated it several times in his tinkering so far."
"Oh, okay than." Scylla looked towards Xeft and noticed a second skull on the shelf for the first time. The new skull also had will-o'-the-wisp lights flickering within its sockets. "Hey, you must be the new ghost. Hi, I'm Scylla." She greeted second the undead Sith.
"Afraid Lord Kun will not be answering you child." Xeft told her in a maliciously amused tone. "He simply refused to cooperate, so Amon was far less gentle than he was with me."
She looked at the two skulls on the shelf. "What does that mean?"
"I suppose it's only natural that he would refuse to cooperate or compromise," Xeft answered her. "Exar Kun was a legend in his own lifetime. He shook the galaxy, waged wars that devastated worlds, had legions of slaves who worshipped him as a god. He even snuffed out the stars in his war against the Jedi."
The twi'lek was looking at the new skull with fascination now, clearly drawn in by the story.
"Naturally, he was full of pride and rage and just would not stop screaming threats and abuse." The old ghost gave a rattling laugh. "So our Sorcerous friend applied some rather harsh bindings. I'm not sure he's even capable of independent thought any more. He'll respond to direct questions from Amon, but otherwise seems like nothing but a paperweight."
"Huh, that seems like a shame. Bet he had some great stories."
"Indeed child. I'm sure Amon will have him tell all his stories in due time." The skull let out another rattling chuckle, while the twi'lek nodded.
While Scylla lacked the Force sensitivity to feel it, Xeft most definitely could. Within his bindings, the spirit of Exar Kun was in agony. While not a Sorcerer by any means, despite the months spent observing Amon, he could say with confidence the binding ritual used was the most elaborate working he'd seen Amon preform yet.
The layers of spiritual chains draped over the ghost seemed excessive to Xeft, and the Sith strongly suspected such a ritual was not designed for anything so minor as a Force Ghost.
Will-o'-the-wisp eyes flicked towards the dome of shadow, and the unseen Space Marine within, and wondered yet again, just what sort of environment and background did such a man come from?
--o-O-o--
Completely blind and working by touch, Amon pulled the control crystal from its housing and shut down the darkness generator once again.
"Scylla?" He immediately noticed the twi'lek in his workshop. "Does something need my attention?"
"Oh, no Master." She shook her head, sending her lekku swaying. "I've finished my duties for now and was just curious. Is it okay if I watch you work a bit?"
The Sorcerer gave a dismissive shrug. "If you wish." She knew not to touch things or get in the way, so he didn't mind her watching while he worked, even if he suspected she'd soon get bored. He wasn't currently working on anything visually impressive.
"So, you're working on stuff from Rur's tower; does that mean you finished with all the stuff from the Sith temple?" Scylla asked in curiosity.
The Astartes gave a bass laugh in reply. "Hardly. Exar Kun is easily one of the most skilled Enchanters and Artificers I've ever encountered. I have years of work in front of me, just from the single temple."
"Huh, that's good. I know you enjoy having new Force magic to study." She looked at the three foot tall pyramid-shaped object he'd been tinkering with. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you working on that if you have so much from the temple?"
"The supernatural darkness is essentially a stealth-field if used right. It will be useful for my plans, so gets priority for now."
"Like, stealth ships with magical darkness? Cool..."
"Indeed Scylla." The Space Marine turned back to his tinkering, quietly amused by his naive servant.
--o-O-o--
Amon sat upon a throne of black stone taken from the Sith Temple, carved by his own hand. While the Space Marine would hardly consider himself a mason, decades of carving intricate ritual circles, combined with an impeccable sense of spacial awareness and a steady hand granted him a craftsman's skill.
Across from him, Maul sat on a less impressive throne carved of the same stone. Crudely shaped and non-symmetrical.
The zabrak was not a craftsman. Which is why Amon had instructed him to learn and practice. A Sorcerer who was sloppy or unskilled with the ritual carvings would have a short career.
"Would you like to play a game Maul?"
The ex-Sith narrowed his eyes at his opponent, his competitive side flaring. "Very well, even if we both know I can't win." He was less bitter about the fact than he could have been. Amon was intentionally using a Force technique that would grant him an insurmountable advantage here, so Maul's pride was soothed by the inevitable nature of his loss.
A pair of astromech-piloted shuttles, with the best sensor suites they had, remained stationary high above, providing a real-time tactical overview of the 'battlefield' the duo would be commanding.
Each had several screens and consoles surrounding their command-thrones, with a large holo-map of the 'battlefield' projected between them.
Amon closed his eyes to focus inwards, preparing the Force technique learned from his study of the Sith. Slowly, carefully, he extended his awareness across the local currents, feeling for the pinpricks of Life and Emotion that resonated with him.
His troops.
The men, women and hermaphroditic individuals under his command. Those who had made the conscious choice to serve and obey.
That alone was not the strongest of connections. It was a connection likely to break if placed under too great a strain. He could not control or dominate his troops via this method, but he could influence them. A subtle nudge here and there. Subconscious guidance to direct them towards an objective. He could grease the gears of this small military machine, allowing it to operate as a more cohesive whole.
Used correctly, the art of Battle Meditation could be a deciding factor for entire wars.
--o-O-o--
When the boss had told them he planned to run war games, Sojen had been fine with the idea.
It was important to keep the troops sharp, while also preventing armed grunts from growing bored and restless. That only led to trouble.
Plus, a war game could be good fun.
Then, Amon had told them he and his apprentice Jacen would be running C . Each squad leader was issued with a helmet-cam and a dedicated radio frequency that connected directly to Amon or Jacen. Plus, a couple shuttles were flying around above, serving as surveillance drones, giving the two Force Sensitives a birds-eye-view of the battlefield.
Honestly, Sojen had thought the whole thing was a bad idea. You just don't have that kind of command and control in real battles and couldn't micromanage squad leaders like that. It just didn't work.
And using stuff like that in training could breed in bad habits. If a squad got used to hand-holding like that, being fed real time intel and detailed instructions ... well, they'd be right fucked on a real battlefield. When blaster bolts started flying and the mayhem cut loose, Sargents needed to think for themselves and make decisions with the limited information they had available.
Well, that's what Sojen had thought in the beginning. Now, he wasn't so sure.
His squad moved near-silently through a gully, ready to spring out and ambush an 'enemy' unit. Now, this unit outnumbered his own by more than he would normally consider acceptable-
"Take cover! Where's the fire coming from!?"
-except they'd arranged a diversion. The sound of a heavy blaster unleashing hell on the treeline filled the jungle. They'd left two men back at the far end of the gully with the heavy weapon and orders to lay down suppression fire on the trees.
They weren't actually close to the 'enemy' unit and in no position to hit them, but it didn't matter. A heavy blaster engaging in deforestation was LOUD. The screeching groan of falling trees was even louder than the fire and fury of the blaster itself.
Meaning their target thought they were in danger, and it would take them a minute to figure out they weren't actually coming under fire.
A minute they wouldn't get.
With group precision that made Sojen proud, the unit crested the edge of the gully and silently moved through the twilight jungle. Although, they could have brought a marching band with them and would have still gone unnoticed over the sound of the diversion.
In the low light, with the distraction doing its job so well, the 'enemy' unit didn't see them coming until it was too late. They were practically on top of them and just sprayed the immediate area with stun shots, sending soldiers to the ground, twitching as highly-conductive ions surged through their bodies.
Yeah, Sojen was beginning to change his mind about these war games. Amon was a sneaky bastard. He'd led them to a hilariously one sided victory over Jacen's troops, with all kinds of formations, combat manoeuvres and ambush tactics.
Now, the Tower Guard were pretty good by mercenary standards, but its not like any of them attended one of the respected Core Military Academies.
Sill, if they used this level of command and control all the time, it really would breed in bad habits. But as a teaching tool, to learn from an, apparently, experienced and veteran General?
Sojen wondered again, just who the fuck was Amon? A warrior that could beat entire merc companies into the ground with his bare hands. A fucking Sorcerer that could smite the battlefield with fire and lightening. And apparently a veteran general that knew tactics and strategy better than his Father.
Shrugging off the questions for now, they set about making sure the 'enemy' were okay and none of them got maimed by falling into something when they were stunned.
The war games were almost over now, so they'd be returning to camp soon. Where they'd debrief, see what they could learn from the experience. And most importantly, money would change hands based on the result of bets placed.
Damn, being the apprentice, Jacen was seen as the underdog, so the odds were weighted against him. Which made a few people take the risk for the higher potential pay-out. They just lost hard.
Oh well, sucks to be them. Sojen smirked slightly thinking about his own winnings.
--o-O-o--
As Maul regarded Amon, his respect and wariness for the Space Marine climbed another notch.
He thought the Astartes would practice the Battle Meditation technique by using it to win the war game. But he didn't.
Observing the Sorcerer through the Force, Maul witnessed something far more subtle and insidious. He slowly, carefully, used the technique to stoke their loyalty. When he issued orders via the radio, he gently influenced them to see the rightness of it. He guided the mercenaries to see how they should follow his commands. How it was right and proper to obey.
It was a small thing, but the zabrak could see how easily it could be built upon.
Of course, the ex-Sith also seethed in competitive frustration. The Astartes had led his troops to a crushing victory without use of Battle Meditation, purely through tactical experience.
Granted, Maul had absolutely no experience in commanding large troop formations, while the Space Marine clearly did, but his pride stung none the less.
Amon simply smirked in satisfaction. "A fine match Maul. Learn from this and do better in the next one."
The zabrak just grumbled in response.