One of Thousands
Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: Kirkwall/The Free Marches
Current Game: Dragon Age II
Tysy awoke with a sharp jolt. Not a painful one, but startling nonetheless.
Resting gently on her pillow was a glowing red pyramid--a Sith holocron.
Darth Traya. I knew that the Force would send you, but not so soon.
Silently and with a gentle smile, the Padawan cradled the artifact in her hands.
Chaos. Mind-bending, unyielding chaos overwhelmed her. Frightened
and confused, Tysy dropped the holocron, shivering. "What?" she
cried, her thoughts a jumble of various questions beginning with "why".
Lowering her voice to a whisper, she asked, "Why? Why kill the Force?"
This made no sense. It was even more maddening than when the
Presence (with a capital P in Tysy's mind) had questioned her in
the Meditation Garden. This archon, Darth Traya, her cold and
manipulative presence imbued in the holocron, had wanted to
destroy the very essence that made a Jedi a Jedi and a Sith
a Sith. The Force, the source of any true power, light or dark.
"It is said that the Force has a will. It has a destiny for us all.
It would seek to control us in order to achieve some measure
of balance. I wield it, but it uses us all, and that is abhorrent
to me." This was the voice of the betrayer, aged yet crisp.
"I see," shuddered Tysy, "but would you have me give it up?"
"The Exile did," hissed the holocron in the voice of the Master
once known as Kreia, "so you would not have to. Channel the
Force through your mind, your body, and your soul. Use it as
you would a source of nourishment or of drink. I used it as I
would a poison, but now I see that without the Force I so
despise, the galaxy would not exist in large part. Endure it."
"I will," the Padawan replied, still keeping her voice low. "What
of the Presence who sent you to me? What of the Jedi? Grand
Master Skywalker? Has Jacen Solo turned to the Dark Side, and
will I as well? Seeking your guidance may be a dire mistake, but
I'll make it!" Tysy's face glowed softly red in the holocron's light.
The holocron was silent for a moment. "A fool. Jacen is like a man
I once knew, a former Sith who remained as short-sighted as he
was before he came to know the Force. Young Solo believes that
through the ways of the Sith, he can bring order to the galaxy.
However, he has not learned that one cannot impose order unto
any situation unless he has first found order within himself.
"That will bring about Solo's downfall, but not yours. You are different."
"How?" asked Tysy. "I have not found order within myself, Mistress."
"Ask for help. Beg for it. Plead. Someone shall come to your side
out of strength and power, and someone else out of crude selfish ambition.
The ambition that destroyed my former apprentice, Darth Sion. You serve,
not conquer. You obey, and not lead. This is good, for it is your destiny."
"Aye?" asked Tysy. "Then I'll beg for help, but perhaps for yours above all!"
If she could have seen Traya's face at that moment, the Dark Lady would
have been smiling. The errors of four millennia shall at last be corrected.
As for the Padawan still in her Jedi-issue night garment, her hair sweaty,
she sent four staccato syllables through the Force, a plea for assistance:
Pozhaluysta. Pozhaluysta. Pozhaluysta. Pozhaluysta.
Not "Help", as would be more fitting in this situation, but rather: "Please!"