The new Lady Andirrul sensed a familiar presence in the Force.
Wrath. You were always my most dedicated of servants, your loyalty never wavering and your passion never fading away! You and I shall obliterate the Jedi Order as one.
As you and I know well, that is the way of the Sith--in ancient times, the Rule of Two.
Against the Jedi, I will again need your warrior's strength and assassin's eye.
The Jedi. The part of Andirrul that was still Andorra Evenstar, adopted daughter of the governor of Avalon, felt an emptiness inside her chest, as if her heart had been ripped out of it with someone else's bare hands. In the cramped and scorching narrowness of her escape pod, she remembered:
"Kalla!" Her wail was palpable, saturated with pain, making her threaten to collapse into deep, wracking sobs. Like the death of a Jedi or Sith, it rang and echoed through the Force. Andorra permitted herself a moment's agony. The woman she loved was lost to her forever, and all because of...of...
Andirrul gritted her teeth. No. I am Sith. I will never be weak again.
Wrath took her aboard his ship. As soon as Andirrul had finished straightening out her sweaty robes, stained with just a touch of acrid urine during the exact, convulsive moment of possession by Virul, the Dark Lady of the Sith turned to her most loyal warrior. Humbly, even for a Sith, he knelt down.
"I am the same Master you've known, and have always known. The part of me that is the girl will soon die, and only I shall remain intact. Simply wait. I know that patience is not a firm trait in the Sith, but..."
"You may call me Dark Lady Andirrul. Rise, you whose power shall increase ten-thousandfold! I shall reward you for your loyalty and refusal to show weakness in the face of battle. Put your hands on my lightsabers' hilts."
He did so. The Force hit him like two bolts of lightning, coursing through the veins of his hands. The metal glowed golden, and Wrath exulted in the pain.
"You have touched the sacred metal of Chetyrnadtsat', Blade of Fourteen Slayings. Its victims were strong in the Force, stronger than anyone before or since--at least those who have died instead of lived, as they should have. From now on, you shall feel no agony, no injury, when your flesh is riven. Rather, the more you are cut, the more you will heal. It is my gift to you."
Andirrul put a pale hand on Wrath's shoulder. "Come. We have much work to do. The Jedi shall know what folly it is to serve Light when there is TRULY nothing in space--and in life itself--but the Dark Side!"
She set coordinates for the nearest star system to recuperate, hide out and find soldiers to train, whether mercenaries or Force users.
I can turn Kalla. I love her still. The Sith celebrate passion, after all!
If she'll not be turned, I am loathe to kill her. The honor shall be Wrath's.
No one, not even the Jedi, would be able to face Lady Andirrul and conquer...
FINIS (THE END)