Crossroads (Jinsala)

[Ezra Na'chtion]

"The Shard..."

He began as he crossed the threshold of the chamber, stepping delicately through the space. Some might find the space claustrophobic, but he had never been afraid of tight spaces himself. At the other end of the room he touched one of the many identical durasteel panels that created the domed room. With a wave of his hand the switch was manipulated within and the panel slipped forward away from the wall and then slid aside. Behind the panel was a complicated looking series of tubes and circuits that culminated at the center where stood a large, sand colored gemstone. It was raw, uncut. Imperfect.

"...are a sentient silicone-based species. Living crystals, if you will. Not only do they possess the standard classification for sentience but some can even be force sensitive. I've even heard rumor that a Shard Jedi can be found at the Ossus Temple. Truly marvelous things, in their own right. A testament to the infinite creativity of nature. However, I find their existence lacks purpose with the exception of those who manage through incredible odds to procure the means of leaving their world. A very rare few. Beyond those force capable, the rest of the species lacks direction and just multiplies. I find that... unacceptable. Fear not, I have found a new purpose for them. Come."

Reaching into the alcove he ran a finger along one of the jutting facets of the gemstone. There was a stirring in the air, a dull vibration of emotion that was unmistakable as it reverberated in the force: Fear. A great and hallow fear. Like the feeling in the pit of your stomach when, as a child, you waited in your room for your parent to come to punish you.

"Can you feel it?"

[Jinsala Wayani]

Jinsala had followed her Master as he lead her to their destination. She listened intently as her curiosity once more was piqued by his passion in the explanation. It never ceases to amaze her just how much she didn't even imagine existed. And here she was with a man who not only knew of their existence, but knew so much more about them.

The closed in room didn't bother her. Open spaces were far more daunting to her. Forests, crowded transfer stations, place like that, unsettled her more because there were places for people to hide that she couldn't see.

The exposure of the crystal ended her peripheral thinking and drew her once more back to his voice and the crystal in the wall. "A Jedi Shard... That seems interesting indeed." She was impressed that something someone would consider a mere bauble, was capable of defending itself. And in the case of The Force, that meant the ability to FEEL.

When his finger caressed the crystalline form, Jins raised a hand to her chest and gasped. When he asked if she felt it, she actually shuddered and without thinking, a mental barrier slammed up between her and the nearly audible scream she had sensed. She had practiced the barrier in class a few times, but it had never manifested like this. The deadened emotions were an almost physical weight off her mind.

She had no idea Ezra would feel its hard snap into place. But she took a couple deep breaths to slow her racing heart and nodded. "It's scared..." she looked at him as the pieces fell into place. A soft smile of understanding lighting her face up. "It's scared of *you*!" The appreciation and realization of that was more than evident in her voice.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

"An understandable reaction, considering the circumstances. I had hoped it would understand that, unlike it's pointless existence back on it's homeworld, here it has purpose. They all have purpose."

The panel was secured back into place and Ezra, taking Jinsala's hand, lead her to the center of the room.

"Several of the panels host a shard. Each connected to the circuitry of the room. The Darkside of the force is most accessible through emotional disparity. The heights of joy and love as well as the depths of hate and fear. The more raw the better. It creates a connection, almost like a floodgate opening. Like a beacon in the dark attracting the insects of the night. It has a great effect on the individual, who can use his or her own emotional state to achieve a great degree of power. However, this emotional... bank can be tapped into by others. We can use the extreme emotional states of others to raise our own. Do you recall when we met? That encounter on Tatooine? You taped into a great primal power. Raw and destructive. That is the power of emotion. It is the dark secret that the Jedi try to hide. Kneel."

Finishing with a command, he placed one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her shoulder and pushed her down as she assumed a kneeling position. He stood behind, one hand still on her neck.

"Now... feel."

With a wave of his hand the door to the meditation chamber slammed shut, and the whirl of activating circuitry could be heard warming in the walls. The feedback field was activated and the lights dimmed to a more soothing intensity. Then it happened. The meditation chamber was suddenly filled with the wailing screams of pain as electricity was fed into the crystalline bodies of the Shard. Without the force their cries would go unheard except by their own kind. It was like dark waves of crimson pain were rolling into them, breaking upon them like rocks. It filled him, like water into an empty glass. He could feel himself growing stronger. In this moment the darkside felt like it was a physical tool that he could hold in his hand.

But Ezra could feel his apprentice struggling in the waves that threatened to drown her. He belt down, placing his lips against her ear. His arm moving to wrap around her chest, holding her in place.

"Don't fight it. You only struggle against yourself. Accept it. Lower your barriers. Let it first consume you and then, when you have finally lost yourself in it, take it's power as your own. It's yours. Take it!"

[Jinsala Wayani]

Jinsala listened as her Master spoke of potential and worthiness. His lack of surprise at the Crystal's fear actually didn't surprise her.


When he took her hand he would feel her pulse race. He didn't strike her as a personal type man, despite her desires when she was alone. So when he took her to the middle of the room while speaking of how emotions were used to girl the Force and that 'other's' emotions could be tapped like a well of power, her heart race faster as a million possibilities ran thru her mind.


But then Ezra told her to kneel, and she couldn't hide the curiosity on her features. The hand on the back of her neck and the press of the other one to her shoulder made her shiver a moment. "Yes, Master," came out as a half muttered utterance of obedience when her knees hit the floor.


The feeling of his fingers sliding around her neck as he walked behind her was like a direct line to his power. She could feel his aura as if leaning into a waterfall. There was definitely a pressure there,but nothing solid enough to support weight.


Then,suddenly, several things happened at once. She heard him command her to 'feel' and she had no choice but to obey. The thing she felt, was the flex of his power as he shot the door and set off the cascade of circuitry in the walls. Then it slammed into her like a runaway tauntaun. The pain of the crystals and the fear and rage filled the chamber. Every second building to a crescendo of sensory overload she never dreamed possible.


Her back bowed in a desire to rid herself it the pain. Her hands reaching, out at first, as if she could could use them to block the overload. To her credit, her cry of surprise and agony was brief once she was hit. Squeezing her eyes shut, fists now clenched at her side,she struggled to will her novice shields to be strong enough to block out the screams she heard in her very soul.


Ezra then he leaned down and whispered against her neck. For whatever reason, she didn't care at that moment, she heard him above all the chaos. His command to accept it, to ride it like a wave, and to not fight it, was like a command to cut off her own head and hand it to him. She continued to fight even as his arm reached around her and bound her physical form to his.


But then something happened...


Unable to keep the barrier up, it failed and fell and she was left without shields of any mental or physical manifestation to stop the power roiling around and thru her. That's when it clicked. To ride the power... rise above it... use it. She let herself drown to the point she almost felt her heart burst from the incoming power. Her breathing became labored and shallow as if she were hyperventilating. For a moment, her hands reached up to grasp at his arm as if to tear herself free with the thought he was doing it to kill her. But like any cup, once it's full, there is nothing left to do but drain.


She let loose a breath she had been holding, and went still in his arms.The noise of the screams of release were slowly ignored as layer by layer she peeled back the maelstrom of Force power around her. And instead of it slamming against her, she managed to channel it. It began moving around her as 'she' willed it instead of as like waves slamming on the rocks. Her voice was raw like she had been screaming. She moved the power around her and thru her, then moved it around the two of them. Had she been able to see it, the eye of the storm they sat it was slowing and building as if awaiting a command. “What do you want me to do with it, Master?” The death grip her hands had had on his arm became loose as the desire to not let go was one of choice and instead of the need to be released.


Her control was tenuous, and the Force flared and spun on the leash of hard won control. Ever once in a while her breath would hitch as a scream or blast from the Shard caught her off guard. She was shaking in his arms, but this time it was from exhaustion, not panic.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

"Never forget that this power is fleeting. Like a dying sun it flashes hot, goes supernova, and then the energy is displaced into the cosmos. It will allow you to rise to levels of power the Jedi could never hope to achieve, and when it is gone you will be exhausted. It is a double edged sword to be used wisely and sparingly."

The screams died down to a red hot hum and then faded to nothing. Just whimpers escaping from the walls. The current was gone, but the energy remained like hot coals in his chest. Releasing her chest he reached down and grabbed her arm roughly and lifted her hand in front of her face.

"This power can be used for so much. There is no end to the applications. I use this chamber to empower myself to greater heights of Alchemy. With this power I fuse bones and rend cartilage into new shapes. Life is created at my fingertips as I sew corpses together with the force as my needle. Ugly, undesirable forms are given new purpose. This galaxy is full of imperfection, and I bring order to this chaos."

His other hand snaked up from his side, hidden away until now. There was only a flash of metal to be seen before the knife was dragged across the palm of her hand, cutting deep before pulling away and tossed across the chamber so that he could grab her once again, holding her back from furfiling the basic human need to cup the wound; to staunch the bleeding. Instead he held her hand up for her to see the blood and meat with one hand, and with the other he pinned her other hand to her chest. The darkside gave him a strength that one would not expect from his small form.

"The Darkside has the power to destroy, and the power to heal. It is not the healing of the Jedi. It does not let you wave your hand and wish the pain away. No. The pain is important. We are nothing without pain. Life is suffering. The darkside can mend flesh as much as the light, but it sustains the pain so that we may learn from our mistakes. There is a cost to be paid, and the coin is pain. Observe."

Pressing his fingers into the wound he channeled the force into the wound. There was no numbing the pain as the flesh was stitched painfully back together. He could feel it through her, and her pain served to power him more. It could create an infinite loop, but there were great risks. The pain could drive a person insane, or cause great trauma that they might never recover from. It was hard to stop. It felt so good to inflict so much pain. He did stop, almost immediately. The blood was coagulated and scabbing, but the would was still open. Still a painful wreck.

"Fix your hand, my Apprentice. Focus. Find the pain. Use the force. Reach out with it. Reach deeper. Even deeper. Until you can see the individuals sinews of the muscles, the cells that compose your flesh, and the rigid walls of the bones beneath. Now grab those those severed tendrils of flesh, like tree roots that have been severed from the riverbank. Merge them back together, will them to life. Use that well of power in your chest. Right. Here."

Grabbing the hem of her shirt he pull it down, stretching and tearing her shirt until it gave way enough to reveal the center of her chest, where he tapped against her breastplate. He could feel the power welling up inside her, just waiting for direction.

"Use it to rekindle life into the dead cells. Bring them back to life. Mend them together. It will hurt. A lot. Use that pain. It's not as strong as the pain of others, but it will sustain you. Do it."

Ezra had been here himself once, under the tutelage of Baralai Lotus. He knew she would fail. It was so difficult a task especially without great medical knowledge to aid in the task. He had failed himself, causing improper cell replication that bubbled up and deformed the wound and threatened to lose him the very appendage he had attempted to repair. It was all part of the lesson to be learned.

[Jinsala Wayani]

Jins gasped as the silence came. The power still washed over and around her like being caught in a volcano you couldn't escape from. But at least she stopped her own cries listened to her Master's words. The image of the supernova was one she understood and hey mind clung to it. "Use it before it's gone," she murmured with a nod of understanding.

As Ezra spoke of shifting and molding flesh, and heels up her hand, she thought he was going to ask her to create something. Not thinking, she absently leaned back into him, waiting to feel his guidance.

Jinsala was about to say something when her mind was assaulted one more... this time by her own physical pain. She wasn't quick enough, or strong enough, against his Force skill and strength, to escape as he sliced open her hand. With so much overload already, she screamed out and struggled. But it was like fighting a steel cage, for all the good it did her.

He spoke to her of power and pain. How they were interlocked. The black rage in her mind mingled with her pain till she couldn't tell where one was and the other wasn't. Another scream bounced around the sealed chamber as fingers probed the wound, sealing it in its wake like some crude cauterizing tool. She struggled harder, her own aren't a momentary boost but lost in her lack of control.

When he pulled his hand free and told her to heal herself, her initial reaction was to shake her head. He'd ruined her hand. Sure, it was her left, but it still looked like an arthritically twisted appendage of torn and melted flesh. But then she remembered the creatures in the other room. They hadn't been ravaged or torn or looked like so much rotted flesh.

Taking a couple ragged to stop her near hyperventilating, she concentrated on her palm. Tears clouded her vision, but she couldn't do anything but blink them away. Her cry this time was a deep gutteral growl as she first used the Force to tear the wound open again. She forced her hand open and flat as best she could in hopes of making the bones align properly. She knew nothing of how muscles were twisted and wrapped with tendons and blood vessels, but she closed her eyes a moment to try and remember 'something' that would help.

A second later she stared into her bleeding, head going light from the pain and bloodloss. She images the myriad of blood vessels meeting end up end to make the circulation right. She tried to imagine the muscles righting themselves. But in the end, the best she accomplished was a very clean scar on the surface. That she could Invision. THAT was something she'd seen plenty of and understood. But under that surface, muscles had filled to bone and vessels were mismatched and knotted too nothing could flow properly. Her hand was half cupped as if she had been holding a large call and it was gone but the form of hand still held it. The pain made her heart race faster again and she shook her head recognizing her failure. Sure, it was neater on the outside, but under the surface it was a mass of fused flesh and bone that would never function again.

Her failure realized, she flailed against him once more. But, once more, her lack of concentration in the overload of her pain, his power, and the feedback loop between them kept her from thinking rationally enough to escape. Though her growls and whimpers as she struggled against him, thankfully, were in control enough not to become screams.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

There was so little for him to watch. Instead he felt her choices, honing in on the damage tissue and observing the repairs she attempted. She blundered as he expected and instead of nearly threading each fiber and sinew back together she instead fused it together like a battlefield medic. The bleeding was stopped, which was commendable, but her focus on repairing the surface left him disappointed in the end. Appearance meant nothing. Functionality was everything. What she had now was a hand with the mobility of a rock tied to a stick. A club hand would not suffice. Not for his apprentice anyway.

Grabbing her hand roughly he jabbed his thumb where the wound had been, and it tore open again. The fibers were still freshly repaired and not properly fused. It was like tearing through cast-plast film. Everything she had done was destroyed, her flesh torn asunder once more. At first her fear and shame had been something for him to feed upon, and now the pain was rich and flowing just like the blood from her hand. It was more than enough to keep him fully powered as he ripped the last hasty repair apart and begin to stitch her hand back together.

Ezra did it slowly. Slower than he had any need to. He wanted her to feel the pain, have it dragged out before her. He wanted her to know what failure felt like, and most of all he wanted her to learn from it.

"For thousands of years the Sith thought that power was absolute and the greatest accolade attainable. They fought among themselves, stole and cheated, to become the strongest. Many sought great heights of control of the force, or incredible feats of physical strength. Some knew a deeper truth. Knowledge is power. There is much to be gained through knowledge, from the simple to the most complex. My knowledge of the structure of the human body allows him to stitch your wound together with such perfection that it is almost as if the injury never occurred. Almost."

Pulling his thumb away revealed the wound closed again, the damage repaired, but a white scar sat where the blade had rent her flesh.

"You focused too much on appearances, my Apprentice. Never forget that form and functionality will always be more important than an appealing facade. I could strike your entire hand from your wrist, and create you one better. Not something smooth and soft, but something ugly and powerful. Striving for beauty will only cause additional complications to an already arduous process. Evolution often moves along these lines, using billions of years of selective breeding to achieve what is most desirable. We do not have that luxury. Stand."

Getting back up he offered her his hand and helped her to her feet.

"The human body is a great example. No species is found as plentiful in the galaxy as the human. Across a hundred worlds and yet the form is essentially the same. It defies mammalian evolutionary paths and sheds it's protective fur but adopts no further protection. Think how much greater a human could be say with leathery skin, or scales for additional protection. Additional lids in the eyes for protection from dust and sand. Longer legs, shorter legs, four arms, a tail for counter weight or even tool manipulation, claws..."

Each time he listed a new item he prodded the corresponding point on Jinsala's body. As he ran his hand along her hand from the knuckles to her fingertips, he let her hand drop and reached up and grabbed her breast through the fabric of her shirt, cupping it and squeezing it a look of disappointment tinged with disgust washed over his face and releasing it.

"Breasts serve no purpose without pups to feed. Reducing them to only when needed would give females a greater range of motion; making them more skilled warriors and tool operators. Such a flawed design, in the end. It is disappointing that this is what we have amounted to over so much time. But we have alchemy. These forms are fleeting. We have the power to create new bodies. We are only limited by our imaginations, and our knowledge. Inspiration is found everywhere in nature, just waiting to be adapted and applied.

So tell me, my student. How would you improve my body?"

[Jinsala Wayani]

His disappointment was palpable and evident as her Master jammed his thumb into the palm of her hand and retore the wound like his finger was the edge of a light saber.

She was so deep in pain, and all screamed out that, though her mouth gaped open, it was a voiceless scream that breathed out of her throat.

To his surprise she would get one good jolt of strength trying to escape. Her mind screamed that he was making it worse as a lesson to her to do it again... And better.

"Eezzzrrraaaaaaa......" His name on her lips was both a plea and a curse as she stared at the bleeding hand, feelings of pain flooded her entire body almost as if the Sith Lord was tearing apart more than her hand. As he dragged the lesson on for what seemed like an eternity, she tried to scream but her voice was so hoarse now it was merely a forced breath that was as ragged as the wound. Her struggling, though it never ceased, was useless against his strength... Which was more than enough as it was fed by her struggling.

When he finished the sealing of the tear he had made, twice, the scar was as she would have expected from a shallow knife wound more than a few weeks healed. Her gasp as he ended the healing, and subsequently the drawing out of pain, left her breathless and weak. Her head swimming from the trauma.

When he finished his lecture of functionality over appearance, he let her go and stood up. She collapsed completely to the floor, wincing as she went to all fours and the wounded hand stung a moment from being stretched as she caught herself. She took two deep breaths before managing to pull herself together enough to take Ezra's hand and stand up on shaking, weak feeling legs. "Yes,... Ma... Master..." she managed to get out, but her voice was hoarse and not very loud.

As Ezra continued his lesson on biology and evolution's shortcomings, he poked a part of Jins' body. The first couple times, she visibly cringed as her mind imagined him using his power to warp her into the images he was describing. When he let go of her hand only to grope her breast, her reflex was to slap him away. But again, it was a weak and pointless gesture that ended with her hands at her sides, fists clenched in both pain and shame as he spoke of his disgust for her body.

She had guess he wasn't interested in her as anything other than a student. But even this pained her deeper than she wanted to admit. To not want her was one thing... To be disgusted was something else.

The apprentice reflexively crossed her arms over her chest as he released her. When he was done he asked her a question she hadn't actually considered. The pause was noticably long before she spoke with a raspy voice, arms going to her side as she forced her weary and abused body to stand up straight and minimize the shaking.

"Perhaps another pair of arms. Would help with holding and manipulating your test and creation subjects. Perhaps the ability to close your auditory senses off at will to spare your head the pitiful wails of those same subjects. It's apparent you don't need to hear or see pain to feel it and draw from it." She would have left it at that but a bite of anger rose and she sneered slightly as she blurted out, "And as my breasts are so pointless except for when pups are involved," the word *pup* was almost spat at him, "perhaps your own reproductive organ could retreat inside you like that of a dog when not needed for his bitch. To not be a distraction or bother, of course."

Her references to dogs was to remind him he had done the same to her. If she was repulsive to him, then she'd treat him the same. By now she was pushing back the pain behind a wall of growing anger. Without realizing it, she was more steady on her feet and had stepped up to him as well.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

"That's the ticket. Think broadly and differently. There are many paths that can be taken. Not all are viable but all are worth exploring so long as knowledge and experience is gained through the failure. That is how we grow. Try, fail, try again. I don't think there will ever be success when it comes to Sith Alchemy. Not in a definite form. Only attempts that are more successful than others. It is imperative that we record our knowledge so that we will not forget those failed steps. It is important to know where and what we came from, to better inform us on where we are going.

Speaking of which, I think it would be in your best interest to see where this all truly began. The Sith Temple still stands on Korriban, hidden in the Valley of the Sith Lords. While it now plays the part of tomb rather than temple, it is still a monument for our kind and a testament of what our progenitors achieved. I have taken all the most valuable artifacts lest they be stolen by bandits but there is still great significance to be found within those walls. The remnants of the library, the sealed tombs of great Sith warriors, and the bones of those who died forcing us from our home. When the opportunity presents itself, I will take you there. The next school holiday will give us the time we need for the trip."

Clasping his hands behind his back and completely overlooking her emotional state, Ezra walked around her and toward the door, which slid open in advance of him. "In the meantime, study. Study as much as you can. There is nothing that can replace knowledge. It will be your greatest weapon. Very soon I will need your help with a special project; the next step of the Sithspawn's evolution, and the future of this very planet. So many things to do, my apprentice, and so little time. With your help we will even the field."

[Jinsala Wayani]

"Yes, Master..." she said to his retreating back.

As he disappeared, whatever hold he had on her severed with the closing of the door. It was as if strings that had been holding her together were finally snapped. She fell to her knees and hands with an audible cry of pain and rage. Biting her lip till it bled, she kept repeating to herself to not make a sound. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of screaming for him anymore... if she could help it.

And something told me, she never would be able to 'not' scream... if it was what he truly wanted.

She spent some time, gasping and trying to put herself together. After what seemed like an eternity, she managed to pick herself up and get back to her quarters. She ignored the jeers and stares of a few who taunted her. One student tried to block her path, but her single look was all it took to make the girl back off with a blanched look. Whatever was in Jinsala's pain and rage was evident in her eyes.

Back in her room, she collapsed on her bed and cried herself to sleep with a promise to herself, her Master, and any gods who would listen, that she WOULD grow in power so she would never feel that helpless again. She hoped it was the lesson he had wanted her to learn, cause it was the one that was seered into her brain.