Private Lessons (Mara; invite only)

[Karl the Unfettered]

They had returned from Tatooine, two new soldiers for the Dominion in tow. Diminutive soldiers, to be sure, but soldiers all the same; a rogue utility droid, T3-M6, and a crazy little Jawa engineer, Hsi Asmae. They had both been left in the care of the Dominion's second-in-command, Visari Netellus, for a more thorough examination (or whatever the old businessman wanted to do with them). That left the principle dictator of the Dominion and its namesake, the Miraluka Shard, to lead his apprentice to the Temple medbay for a long-overdue private lesson.

During the walk there he had been silent, striding along with his young student in tow, occasionally nodding or saying a few polite words to passersby whom he knew. "Do you recall what I told you when we first met, Miss Looma?" he began as they entered the medbay, and the doors whooshed shut behind them. "Of the Jedi, and how their ways have good beneath the hypocrisy? Have you, by chance, been considering these questions since then?

"It is important you do so," he went on gently, waving aside the servile medical droids as he ambled about the bay. "As I have explained before, lust without guide is impotent; vengeance without purpose is wasteful; fury without meaning is, well, meaningless." He paused before an empty kolto tank, regarding its sterile confines.

"The Jedi... they seek to help the galaxy. To heal it, remake it in their vision of perfection. We Sith also seek to remake, but we lose focus of the healing and the help, and in that loss of focus we lose everything." One hand came up and traced lightly across the glass before him, creating a faint squeaking noise. "You remember your history lessons here, of how the Sith as we are now came from outcast Jedi who let their hatred consume them. That hatred has defined them, defined us, for thousands upon thousands of years. And in so doing we forgot the reasons for the hate, and recall only the hate itself.

"No one truly thinks about why they hate," and he faced Looma again, his eyeless gaze heated and intense; in this isolate, lonely area, the heat of that gaze might lead her to certain misconceptions. Enjoyable misconceptions, true, but nevertheless fallacious ones at the moment. "To hate the Jedi is to hate their purpose, their creed. They advocate pacifism in times of war, belligerence in times of peace; knowledge in search of the Force, yet ignorance in regard to themselves.

"They would stifle, Miss Looma. They would see the galaxy stagnate to death around them, as apathy and atrophy, the twin confidants of peace, run rampant and leave everyone little better than death itself. That is their goal; ultimate Order, ultimate Peace, ultimate Security. For everyone.

"Can you understand why that is so repugnant? It is conflict which shapes us, strengthens us; it is chaos against which we test ourselves and grow mighty. The Jedi have strength, never doubt that, but it is only because of the conflict they face, both in themselves and without. And make no mistake, the Jedi are conflicted; their Code goes against the very core of Life itself, of growth and the pursuit of personal strength and power.

"And that is what we must keep in mind, the reason why we fight the Jedi. If you allow hatred and vengeance to blind you, you have already lost; there is just as much to lose in considering a galaxy of Chaos, of Anarchy and bloodshed without end. In essence you must find a balance between them, and thus within yourself."

He turned to face another kolto tank, this one occupied by a young male who had been too confident around the tuk'ata. "Anyway, show me what you remember of the Jedi, Miss Looma. They must have taught you at least the basics of Healing, yes?" He stepped aside and indicated the Rodian youth with a wave of hand. "Here you are, then. Show me the Light Side, Miss Looma. Heal."

[Mara]

[...from The Dwarf and the Droid]


The mission that she had gone on to Tatooine with her master and others of the Dominion had gone well. Or, at least, Shard had seemed pleased with the addition of the pesky droid and the insane little Jawa. Looma wasn't sure how they would be helping with the Dominion's goals, but that wasn't for her to decide. She had merely gone along to follow her master and observe. Observation-- the yellow Twi'lek had been doing a lot of that lately. Yes, she had gotten a little training on the trip over to the desert planet, but Looma always felt like those lessons were oversights on the part of her master. Almost as if he had nothing better to do, so why not try to impart something to his student.

She had been feeling just a little frustrated with the whole situation. Looma knew she should just feel grateful that she had gotten a master, someone to train her, finally, in the dark arts, but she also couldn't help but feeling a bit empty about it. A little lecture here and there, and some brief lightsaber instruction wouldn't go far in the scheme of things.

And so the young Twi'lek was a little surprised that, upon their return to the Temple on Korriban, Shard departed his new recruits and started leading her off in a different direction away from the hangar. She had been almost certain in her thoughts that her master would want to personally oversee the Jawa and droid's immersion into his fledgling organization. Looma had felt, in the short time she had known him, that Shard was a bit controlling in that manner.

But here they were, walking through the halls of the Temple, mostly in silence. Looma had no idea where they were going. Hoping that whatever her master had planned, it would be short. Not really a vain being, but still the Twi'lek wanted to clean off after the stay on Tatooine. The facilities in the Balestra while good, weren't exactly as private as she liked. Again she regretted not taking a cloak with her to guard against the sand. It was entirely possible that she had sand stuck in places that she didn't know could fit sand.

Finally she could see their destination and was a bit confused by what she saw. Looma didn't have any time to dwell on why her master had brought her to the medical area, for he had decided to break silence and address her. As she stepped inside and paused, she looked at her master with a nod. She knew her long-time memory wasn't exactly something she excelled at, but her first encounter with Shard wasn't really something she would forget. Nor her meeting Caleb for the first time.

Looma couldn't recall exactly what he had spoken about, but she did know he had went on about their purpose as Sith and something about the Jedi and their feeble ways. But what had stuck out was that she remembered him explaining that though they were inferior, some of the Jedi's philosophies weren't all bad. And that there was more than one way to skin a bantha, as it were. She had come up with the analogy herself later, while thinking about what he had said about being different views of the Force.

Feeling her nod had been sufficient and not entirely sure that her master wanted an answer--he kept on talking--Looma stood by in silence as he wandered the medbay. She had learned early on that it was best to let Shard speak himself out; interrupting him would only make him talk longer. And so she listened, trying to decipher what the importance was, why he was bringing this topic up again now and in this locale.

She did recall her history lessons about the Sith, but something else her master said afterwards struck her even further. The hatred, hatred without knowledge. Looma knew firsthand what such could do to someone, to herself. She had hated her parents for selling her sister into slavery, without knowing any of the reasons behind it. The Twi'lek was only a toddler and didn't understand the complications. She had only her anger, something that the Jedi later tried to suppress and erase away. But it only exceeded in creating a new outlet for her anger. It became the Jedi's inability to recognize her skills. To know that she was above average in telekinetics. The knowledge that they didn't care and wanted her to learn other skills increased her ire against them. Eventually to the point that she just hated the Jedi and no longer knew exactly, or cared, why.

Those thoughts brought up unbidden feelings, and she tried to hide them away, clutching the Force to aid her in a calmness as her master turned to her again. He was speaking about the very thing that had brought her to the Sith, and yet, she didn't think that he was in whole agreement with the matter of hate without the knowledge of why. And so she remained silent, wondering what this all was leading to.

Suddenly it all became clear to her. There was more to the Sith's battle with the Jedi than just mere disagreement. What earlier she hadn't understood when Shard spoke to her during the Temple construction, she now did. The Jedi were abominable because of their errant foresight of peace in the galaxy. Because their code was so contradictory. They did become careless in times of peace; she had been at the Temple just years before, before this war started breaking out. The Jedi only seemed to really care when they heard of the possibility of the reemergent Sith, their sword enemies. A bit of irony for the declared pacifists.

Again, she nodded at her master, now understanding. While her anger against the Jedi could aid her somewhat, she must not let it completely control her. Looma could see now that if she let her anger lead her, it would only lead to further destruction. If her anger was in control, then it meant she no longer was. She needed something to balance it all, to keep her head above the water, as it were. Not exactly to be like the Jedi but to keep aware of the other features of the Force. Make them all serve her, instead of just a select few.

Her eyes widened then, just thinking that the medbay had been a mere object lesson in getting her to understand the differences and similiarities between the Jedi and Sith. She didn't think that... But then again, she had wanted some real hands-on training with her master. Something like this, though... this would be difficult. All the younglings had received basic medical training, of course, but Looma had focused almost all of her time playing with her telekinesis and not on her other studies. Her healing talents were almost nil. Whatever skill she had would be very rusty after misuse. She hadn't even been able to help heal Caleb when he was injured on Bakura, the first time she had met him.

But she had to obey her master. She had to try. So Looma took a deep breath and walked towards the tank. Closing her eyes, she laid a hand on its surface, trying to feel the young Rodian through the Force. Fear, mostly... fear that she might hurt him even farther, so the yellow Twi'lek tried her best to flow goodwill towards him. Encouraging him that she meant no harm. She wanted to help. And bringing the Force closer to her body, she racked her brain for her lessons on healing years and years before, at another Temple, another place and time. But her static-filled memory failed her. She could remember nothing of what to do. So Looma merely stood there, hand on tank, eyes closed, Force locked on the Rodian, sending him calming pulses.

She had no idea how to heal him. And no idea how to tell her master, or what he might do to her because she couldn't.




((If I totally just contradicted you, let me know.
I'm a bit tired. ))

[Karl the Unfettered]

Shard stood behind Looma as she attempted to channel the Light into the injured Rodian, without much success. It seemed she barely knew even the minimal basics, enough to calm someone down and slow their heart rate; great if they were at risk of bleeding out, but not much good if one was safely in a kolto tank. At least she wasn't actually harming the fellow.

"It helps to speak, if you're a beginner," he said quietly, stepping closer. One hand lightly gripped her wrist against the glass, and the other rested upon her opposite shoulder; the smell of dust swirled around her, though beneath it lurked the scent of his cologne. Expensive, slightly musky stuff from the Core Worlds, he wore it often; even to Tatooine, it seemed. "Focus upon the area of the body most in need of help; in this case, the torso." Indeed, several deep and half-healed slashes marred the Rodian's chest, and were it not for the kolto they would have yet been gaping and raw.

"Stretch out with your senses, and feel for the boy's injuries," the Miraluka went on, in a surprisingly soft and gentle voice compared to what Looma might have heard from him before. His hand guided hers to rest over the worst of the cuts, and he leaned forward with his head as if to see closer; her lekku would brush against his shoulder, and perhaps feel the armor plating beneath his dusty robes.

"Can you feel it? The blood beating through his veins, the firing of his nervous synapses as they come across the slashes, uncertain where to go?" She might not have been able to, by herself, but with Shard's influence she would, now. It was almost as if he were imprinting some small portion of his own vast perceptions upon hers, for just this moment, allowing her to grasp his lesson more easily.

"Before you can heal, you have to know what, exactly, you are healing," he went on, still in that calm, reassuring tone. "You cannot blindly unleash your power across the whole body; that is a waste, an inefficiency, and we can't have that." A trace of humor graced his voice, and he smirked slightly, but his next words were sober again. "Always, Miss Looma, always take the time to focus, find your center and his, and... heal."

As he said the last word, there came from his hand a definite sense of wholesomeness, passing through hers and onto the Rodian's body. It produced no immediate effect, but a close inspection would reveal that the cuts were reparing themselves at a slightly faster rate.

"You see? Simple, really, but not without its difficulties." Now his voice, while still gentle, began acquiring the businesslike tones Looma would perhaps find more familiar; at the same time, that sense of expanded awareness began to fade. Although, he did not step away. "I do not expect you to try and learn Healing, not in this place. It would be to your credit if you did, however; on the battlefield, should you come across an injured ally and have the means to at least ease his pain, if not speed him on to recovery, you will have prevented our enemies from taking at least that one life, that one set of skills, away from us.

"The Dark Side has its own ways of healing," and he turned his head to look down at his student, "but they are largely self-centered, as are most of the powers and abilities associated with it, and too advanced for one such as you." He seemed unaware of their closeness, and it was difficult to ascribe any ulterior motives, but that sense of uneasy heat that always seemed to surrounded him was there still; his hands had not moved from her hand or shoulder, but nor did they show any inclination to move either. "You should at least learn to heal yourself, if not others, and keep this small flame of the Light within yourself; in so doing you will never lose sight of where you came from, and thus avoid that pointless shattering deathtrap so many adherents of the Dark Side fall or dive headlong into. That is an empty and painful road, Miss Looma, and you are meant for much better things."

He fell silent, and for a further second was quite still. Then with a slow chuckle he removed his hands and stepped away, clasping them before him. "I once made the mistake of falling into that trap," he explained musingly, "and spent years clawing my way back out. Sometimes I wonder if I ever made it back intact, or if I've even started." His face became pensive, then he shook his head and chuckled again. "Anyway," and he leaned back, as if regarding Looma and waiting for something from her. "You are entirely too silent, Miss Looma, you know there is an open invitation to speak your mind at all times." Again that trace of humor, but his manner was still gentle even now.

[Mara]

Looma had been waiting, standing there quietly, for the moment her master would speak to her. Waiting for him to scold her for not doing something right. So she was surprised when he was actually gentle with her, coming closer and giving her more advice to help her. The Twi'lek couldn't remember ever anyone in her life ever trying to help her. Yes, the Jedi on Coruscant had said they were helping, but Looma had not felt that they had meant it. No, Shard, her new master... he seemed to care about teaching her. And that was an entirely new concept for her.

Despite this realization, though, she had to stop herself from startling when he touched her. So focused she was on trying to heal the Rodian in the tank that she hadn't noticed the Miraluka coming towards her. Another mistake, she thought. Besides being surprised by the closeness of her master, she couldn't help but think of another. The only other being who had touched her like that. Looma blinked hard with her eyes, squeezing out the memories of Cal. This was no time to get distracted, and she forced herself to focus on what her master was telling her. Forced out any feelings besides respectfulness for her teacher. Anything else would just be... confusing.

She remained quiet, though, not knowing what to say to the Rodian at the moment, nor wanting to interrupt what Master Shard was saying to her. Looma knew it was important and dared not interject, knowing she probably would just stutter anyway. Doing as he said, she focused her attention in the Force on the injured area of the Rodian, seeing it now through the Force as her eyes were still closed in concentration. The Force was indeed reacting differently to her touch in that area of the wound. Almost as if the Force itself was hurting and not just the being in the tank. Looma was glad for something to take her mind off her master standing so close behind her, both hands touching her.

Generally she only was this minutely tuned to the Force when practicing her telekinesis. Looma would focus on every particle and molecule in an object, enabling her to utilize whatever it was more easily. It was this technique that had helped her with the construction of the Temple she was now standing within, months earlier. Now she used that detail-oriented focus to hone in deeply to really feel the injury of the Rodian, not just notice a slight Force disturbance. There... it did seem like she was feeling the movements within the Rodian's body. Or perhaps it was just her own heart beat pounding in her skull. She bit down on her tongue, needing to keep herself completely on the task at hand, no need for wandering thoughts. That was something for later, alone in her quarters.

Taking a deep breath, she washed out everything that wasn't important, only keeping hold of her master's words and the task at hand. A part of her insides smarted, as he reminded her about her inefficiencies earlier on when she had tried to heal the Rodian. Her incompetence to obey her master. If anything else, today she would learn that she was more lacking in knowledge than she thought. Definitely a big ego check for the yellow Twi'lek, who had thought herself one of the most powerful of those taken from Bakura. Now she knew she was no better than any of them. Perhaps worse off.

At the word "heal" from her master, she had to open her eyes in amazement. The purple orbs looked into the tank, trying to look for the healing process. It was very faint, and she mostly felt the change through the Force. It knew something was happening, something that was almost entirely invisible to the naked eye. But it was there. She could... feel it. And she knew she had not done it herself, and so a small sigh escaped her lips. Another failure.

Feeling his unseeing eyes on her as he kept speaking, Looma almost didn't want to tear her own from the tank, in fear that he would notice the disappointment in them. But it was senseless; he would probably feel it through the Force, though she tried to hide it. So she turned and looked into those masked no-eyes and listened to her master. Still nothing to say, she bobbed a nod; yes, she would have to at least learning healing skills in terms to herself. It wouldn't do to always have to call for Shard to help her if she ever injured herself. There would be times, she knew, that she might be off by herself. And with no way to help herself... Looma vowed them to spend her free time prying out the little bit of light side power she had and work on healing, instead of playing around with her telekinesis as was her wont before.

Her master stepped back from her then, releasing his hands, and Looma involuntarily wrapped her arms around herself before she turned from the tank to face him once again. She was curious about the trap he mentioned falling into, but knew that she would get nothing from him at the moment and so tucked it away for later. Along with his mention that he thought she was meant for great things. Another thing to meditate on later in her quarters; it would be weak for her to shed a tear in front of her master now. Not because of her failure with the healing arts, but because no one had ever told her that she had potential before. Never.

Violet eyes blinking at her master, she was at a loss for words still. Earlier she hadn't wanted to interrupt him, wanting to hear all he had to say. Now, she had the opportunity to speak, but had nothing to utter to him. Looma looked away, unable to keep looking at his glasses for the moment and turned to look at an empty tank behind him. What was there to say? Apologizing for her weakness would be, well... weak. Instead she just nodded and said, still not looking him in the face, "I know."

[Karl the Unfettered]

There was such conflict within his young student... any other young woman, Shard would have moved in, taken full advantage of it, and left her behind much the worse for wear. But this was Miss Looma, and he could not allow himself such luxuries; he knew about her friend Caleb, after all, it was impossible to miss the bonds between the two of them. Any other Sith would have perhaps turned them against each other, since relationships could be a weakness, but Shard knew otherwise; it could be a strength of sorts, one of the greatest any rational being could possess. He had never held such strength, but had observed it extensively in others, and knew what to look for.

But this wasn't the time for Miss Looma's romantic life; this was the time for instruction. "Miss Looma," he began again, his gentle voice becoming very slightly stern, "I am beginning to think the Jedi broke you somehow." He stepped forward once, reached out and lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at his face. "Where is your confidence, girl? Have I not tried to teach you the ways of command, of projection and influence? You suffer insecurity, you lack any sense of your own worth; this will cripple you, in the future.

"Perhaps it was the Jedi who did this," he went on, his hand still gripping her chin. "They deny the self in every youngling who passes through their halls, instead teaching them to find value in the group, seek their worth as part of a vast whole. You will not, you cannot progress with the Sith until you can stand up straight and say 'I am a person, I have my own goals and I know what I am worth!'

"What are you worth, right now? What are your goals? I'll answer for you: right now you are my apprentice, and your goals are to absorb what I have to teach you and earn my favor and respect. But beyond that: you are Looma Isana. You seek to become great within the Empire, you seek vengeance upon the Jedi for breaking you, you seek the favor of your young friend Caleb Malkav." He gave a short chuckle, though it was not in the least malicious.

"I said before, there is the potential for greatness within you, and that was not a lie." His hand lifted from her chin and rested itself gently on her forehead; her vision went dark, and a Sight came before her. It was herself, though with more years than she currently had. This Looma radiated power; it was in every facet of her, from the fearless gaze of her whirling violet eyes to the sensual sway as she strode along, even to the violent scars that mutilated her face, her shoulder. A fell red lightsaber was gripped confidently in one hand, lighting the area around her; it seemed to be a vast hall of some sort, ancient stone beneath her feet and distant torches flickering far off.

"That could very well be you, my dear, in another ten or even five years." The sternness had left his voice, and as the vision faded he pulled his hand away and stepped back. "There are many obstacles in your path, however. Training, growth, expansion... most of all you have to overcome yourself. Do you understand?"

Abruptly he turned and took a few steps away from her, then turned and was still. "We start now. Forget all other instruction, all my fancy words save this." His hands were limp at his side; he seemed inert. "Strike me, Miss Looma. Just once. Do whatever you feel you must, use whatever tool or implement fits best: your lightsaber, your bare hands, some other object, whatever. Do not try, either; if you're trying, you're not. Confidence, self worth, certainty in yourself; these are your goals, from here until you acquire them. Now... hit me."

In the medbay around them were trays of all sorts of implements. Empty syringes, scalpels, forceps and scissors... even spare parts for the droids. If the Twi'lek chose Telekinesis there certainly was no lack of small sharp pointy objects, but that didn't seem to be what Shard wanted. He insisted this was about self-confidence, the projection of herself and the realization that she was, in fact, worthwhile, beautiful in her own right even without power and training. She had to ignore the fact that in simple combat he could wave aside any effort of hers without so much as a twitch; in such thoughts, she would defeat herself before she even began the effort.

He was not asking for the obvious, the simple approach, but what did he want then? What was the point of all this?

[Mara]

She continued to stand there, keeping her gaze away from her master's face, not knowing what else to say in response. Her master had given her free rein to speak her mind, and all she could do was agree with him, nothing else. Looma was confused; she had had no problem in the past with speaking her mind. That was one of the reasons she had gotten kicked out of the Temple on Coruscant, her free will and sharp tongue and actions. But now when it really mattered... she was at a loss. Whether it was due to all the nice things he had said about her potential or whether it was just the stress of the situation he had put her in and her failure at it, she didn't know. All she knew was, she wouldn't put it past her master to rebuke her right now.

When he finally spoke, she gulped in a deep breath, but showed no other sign that what he had said hurt her. It took the greatest hold of the Force she had not to show any emotion or shed a tear when he came up to her and forced her violet eyes on his lifeless ones. She wrapped her arms even tighter around herself. What Shard said was completely true, but that didn't mean it hurt her any less.

Looma couldn't understand what had happened. She had been confident in her own abilities, almost to the point of cocky, at times. But when faced with a task that she believed she could not complete, she had floundered. Knowing inside that the Jedi had told her she had no aptitude for healing, and then never even trying to practice in those arts, she had begun to be satisfied with that fact. With the knowledge that she couldn't be good at everything. As long as she had her telekinetics, it would be enough.

Now, though, she was beginning to wonder about all that. Maybe if she had just believed in herself a little bit more, had the same faith in herself that she had had in Caleb with his own abilities when they had met on Bakura, perhaps she would have been more successful at this simple lesson from Shard. Maybe he wouldn't had had to help her. Maybe shes could have healed the Rodian on her own.

A thought flickered through her mind that this was it. All her dreams and aspirations were ending now. Her master would be abandoning her as a lost cause. And Looma, thought, she wouldn't be surprised if he did. Despite all he'd been teaching her up till now, for her to forget the most basic thing of all, that had to be complete failure. She just hoped that all he did was sever their relationship, and didn't strike her down on the spot to a point that none of the kolto tanks could help her.

Thankfully for her that didn't seem to be what her master had on his mind. This was simply a harsh lecture, for now. And he was going on about the same things she had come to terms with herself: that she needed to have faith in herself, needed to know who she was at her core in order to be confident and succeed. Somehow she had lost all that when they had entered this room. And Looma didn't know how to get it back.

She had to suppress a reaction at the mention of Caleb. Immediately she clamped down on the rise of emotion she felt at hearing that name, staunching it with the Force. How her master even know Cal existed, let alone that she was... involved with him, she couldn't even begin to know. But what was done, was done. Shard didn't seem to want to do anything to the boy, so Looma focused again on what he was saying.

Then he did something completely surprising. At first she thought he was releasing her chin in order to pace around the room to further discuss her situation. Or perhaps to strike her a blow. But what he did was something entirely different: he laid his hand on her forehead and... it was like she was having a dream, though she knew she was awake. What was her master doing to her?

The vision in front of her was a little hazy, but then she could see something, a figure of some sort, a feminine form. She... Looma's heart pounded a little faster. It was her! But not her, in a way. Looma didn't know how she knew it was both her and not her, but she just did. This future Looma appeared super confident and powerful, everything the current one aspired to be but yet wasn't. She only had a vague sense of what the other Looma looked like, so in tune was she in the feeling she was getting through the Force. And it both intimidated her and made her sad. A lone tear streaked down her yellowed cheek.

Opening her eyes, she nodded at her master at his question. She cleared her throat and spoke finally, her voice clear, "Yes, master. I understand." Looma really did understand now. Everything would change for her right at this moment. She had to shake off this small failure and forge ahead, with her master's help. With his training, she could very well become the future Looma she had seen.

Her eyes widened at his next words. Yes, she was a little surprised to hear him tell her to forget all the lessons he had imparted on her thus far since taking her on as his apprentice. Though she understood that they had to take a new path for her training, to wash away everything seemed... silly. No, what surprised her the most was her master's request for her to hit him. She froze for a moment, not knowing whether this was another test for her, or if he really did want to try to attack him.

But in the next moment, she came to a conclusion. And then she opened herself up to the Force, her eyes closing involuntarily, as she drew the power to herself. A few calming breaths, along with the Force, helped her find an inner peace, her center, and hopefully her confidence that she was Sith, and she had the power to wield the Force in ways the Jedi never thought of.

Her arms rose up away from her body, resting at 45-degree angles to the floor. Using the Force, Looma scanned the room. Knowing that she was not adept enough with her lightsaber, she had discarded that weapon almost right away. And that left her with the Force, and with her body. There were plenty of items in the room she could use, pick up with the Force, and simply shove towards her master. Instead, she drew on her anger, a feeling that had been festering inside ever since she had failed at the tank. Looma hadn't realized she was anger at herself or at Shard at the time, merely disappointed. But with the earlier mention of the Jedi abandoning her, she had enough fuel.

Looma imagined in her mind's eye a globe, and she brought her hands around in front of her as if she were holding it. She pulled on the Force, stuffing it into this sphere, compacting it together. This was something she had never done before, and how she even thought of it, she couldn't rightly pinpoint. Looma had only thrown regular objects before with telekinesis. All she knew was her master asked her to attack him, and she was doing it, with what touched her mind as being a Force ball.

And then, with a groan, with all the frustration and anger she had built up, she hurled the ball of Force energy at her master's midsection.

[Jenno]

Life in the Sith Order could be quite brutal. People were always trying to test themselves against the other students, to be stronger, to stand out, to appear worthy to one of the few Sith Lords. Within the minds of those masters held the knowledge that made this order unique. Whilst the initiates had been grouped into classes based on similar ability and experience they had still only really learned some of the basic principles of the Sith. It was to be expected with their numbers so few.

It was odd that amongst this setting, with these struggling students, he would be able to acquire a master. With his blatantly lacking abilities across the board, Caleb only possessed a few positive aspects, his ability to communicate with plants and animals with some ease, which was rendered useless on this lifeless rock, his intelligence which allowed him to fair quite well in a competitive knowledge-base environment and his belief in the Order itself. He was becoming a true follower; his hate against the Jedi could be utilized here and made into something useful. Darth Novus, by some great grace of the Force, had chosen to take him on as an apprentice. Whilst he was surprised and confused by this fact the young student was very much pleased that he had been given the opportunity to grown in strength.

However, that would have to wait for a short time as almost as soon as she had started his training she had been called away to a mission on some planet called Felucia and the apprentice wasn’t sure when his master would return to continue his practices. Until then he would continue with some of the things he already knew how to do. The plant he had acquired and now kept in his room was his only real source of practice for that particular skill and whilst the excavated catacombs were filled with dangerous creatures, Caleb wasn’t quite used to dealing with animals that had been influenced so strongly by the dark side. If it were a single beast then he would likely be able to overcome the situation but down there the creatures typically travelled in swarms. So he sat meditating for a time, absorbing all he could from previous lessons and fitting in what minor practice he could on his basic skills.

Such things quickly bored the Sith however as it didn’t seem much like practice and more like a simple reminder of how the Jedi had failed in teaching him. So there was another ability he would practice with, one he occasionally revisited at the temple. Healing was the only thing he could really do in comparison to the other things the Jedi had taught him and it seemed like the majority of the Sith weren’t too great with the skill. He wasn’t fantastic at all but he had the ability to help out somewhat. With the harshness and brutality that came with the fights and challenges in the temple, there were a few particular areas for medical attention. This came in the standard form of kolto but there were also those who would do what they could with the Force, and Caleb liked to volunteer himself every once in a while. Usually it was just cuts, bruises and the occasional burn marks that he dealt with, things within his range.

But as he walked into the medbay he was surprised by the sight. There was Looma, who he had started to see more frequently after they had made up for lost time, and then another figure he could only assume was her master, Shard she had said his name was. Caleb managed to enter just as Looma was hurling a ball of telekinetic energy at the man and for a few moments he was unsure of what was going on. But if this was Shard then he was probably simply instructing her and he had nothing to worry about. Apart from the fact they were starting to spar in the medbay of all places. The boy held his hands up to guard his face from the gust that flew towards him, rebound from the ball of telekinesis he guessed.

Waiting for a brief pause in events he stepped forward and spoke. “Looma,” he said with a curt nod and then turned to the man, “no disrespect but is the medbay really the best place to be practicing such things?” He looked around at the few Sith initiates who were currently in need of seeing to and Caleb was ready to start his own practice in a bit. But he didn’t really want to start doing so with Looma present and with her master also in the area teaching her, especially if they were going to practice throwing telekinetic balls of energy around the room. Not exactly a peaceful working environment.

[Karl the Unfettered]

It seemed she had taken his words to heart, standing still and merely gathering the Force to herself, fueling it with her anger. Anger at what, precisely? He looked closer, before she launched it; anger at herself, anger at him, anger at the Jedi. So much anger. For such a young thing, she sure has a lot of repressed emotions, he thought to himself, still standing inert. He hadn't been quite so mussed up at her age, then again he'd still been with the Jedi at her age so they really couldn't compare with each other.

"Good, yes," he murmured quietly, as Looma continued charging up the ball. "Let it all go... let it fill you, and release it into the outside..." From another direction he felt someone else approach, and stifled the sense of him before he came within Looma's range; she did not need distractions, not now. Especially if he was who Shard thought he was.

And then she fired; the ball of energy, so bright with malice in Shard's vision, appeared a swirling motley of red and purple. It streaked toward him, and he leaned back very slightly but took no other action. It struck his chest, and he took a step back in response; she didn't have to know he had let her attack strike, as creative as it may have been. "Very good, well done," he said warmly. "Next time you may want to be a little faster, though. But for now, we have a visitor." He turned, releasing the block on Looma's awareness, letting her see Caleb.

"Are you really in a position to question my methods, Mister Malkav?" he replied sharply to Caleb's question, before Looma could react. "Novus' student you may be, that does not give you the right to wander randomly about questioning others' teaching methods." He took a step toward the young man, the room growing noticeably warmer as he did so. "You talk the talk, but can you walk the walk? Tell me, young man, what has the Lady Novus taught you up until now?"

Silently, to Looma, he said, "Your boyfriend is an amusing one. He'll be a good influence on you, but don't get too comfortable."

[Mara]

Looma still felt a a little surprise at the sharpness and violence of her attack on her master. Not that she would ever let that emotion show through her stony countenance or break her concentration. But after a moment's hesitation, she had immediately gone for the strike, without more than a second's thought of using her lightsaber or a telekinetic throw. It was strangely eerie how the idea to use the Force itself as her weapon had come into her mind. It both emboldened her and frightened her at the same time.

After the release, she finally opened her eyes, but still kept her arms primed in front of her in case Shard went on the attack. He had just said to strike at him, but didn't bother telling her whether it was a one-time thing or whether he planned on turning this into a duel in the medbay, the stupidity of which didn't really enter her mind. Looma was so focused on what her master wanted to do, so focused on the Force and the multifaceted anger that was fueling it.

She stood still and waited, waited to see if he would dodge the Force ball or just take it. A bit of disappointment flooded her mind as she saw that the hit hadn't effected her master much. It had just pushed him back a step or two. Looma didn't know why, but for a moment there she was hoping it would slam him into the opposite wall, perhaps breaking a rib or two, or even a kolto tank. And she wasn't sure if this was still her conflict of emotions from his earlier reprimands, or that perhaps she was finally embracing the way of the Sith. The Twi'lek suppressed those thoughts almost right away, though, scared of where they might lead her. When she really thought about things, she didn't want to harm her master. She would need a lot more rage and reason for that. A momentary weakness was what she attributed it to.

Which wasn't to say she still wasn't disappointed her attack hadn't been as successful as she had hoped. Not to injure Shard, but so that she knew her own strength. If she couldn't even fell an opponent, even one as powerful as her master, how could she do so in a real fight? Looma decided she needed to evaluate all her options later, and perhaps do some more solo practicing.

A smile crossed her face as Shard praised her for the attack, though disguising in it a bit of a reprimand again. But this was one she could take. It was more like constructive criticism anyway, and she welcomed it. She would think about it later when she practiced, how to quicken her moves, and her thought processes. Looma knew if she wanted to succeed with the same move, she needed to gather the energy more quickly and not hesitate in going to that particular weapon. She was feeling better; not so much anger was boiling inside of her. Her master had put her at ease from his lecture, in a most unorthodox way. Perhaps this idea of starting anew wasn't so bad anymore. Looma was looking forward to some more real training with her master.

But then her calm demeanor shattered. All of a sudden Caleb was there, and she hadn't noticed him come in. She couldn't believe that she had been so focused on attacking her master that she hadn't felt the young man through the Force. There were very few people she could recognize as quickly as he, and over far greater distance than where he stood now. How-- her master. Yes, her master must have masked Cal's presence. Why, she would never know. Just as she would never know how he was aware of them... together.

He spoke her name, and though it was a bit harsh, as he was obviously focused on Shard, she could barely reply, due to her surprise at his arrival. She barely croaked out a raspy "Caleb" and couldn't go on. For once she was glad that he was focused on someone else, though that other prescence happened to be her master. Another reason why her feet seemed to be glued to the ground, and she felt frozen. Almost always before, since their arrival to Korriban, they had always seen each other in private. There had been the night after Iniquitous's big ceremony, and again later they had met to share in the joy of receiving their masters, of whom Cal's she had met that moonlit night. And other brief meetings in the Temple; her master kept her busy traveling, and they hadn't had much time to spend together.

Always so confident when she was with him, now she was unusually bashful in the presence of who she thought of as the two most important men in her life, the Dark Lord not included. She thought perhaps it was just the fact that they were meeting for the first time, a silly notion, she knew, but yet it was there. As if she wanted her master to approve of Cal or something. Even though she knew Shard's opinion wouldn't change her feelings for the human. Looma could only stand there, still, arms folded around her and hope this meeting would go smoothly. And quickly, since now she and Cal were back on the same planet again.

She turned back then to their conversation; apparently Cal had questioned her master's teaching methods, by way of his answer. Looma's purple eyes widened, surprised by the harshness of Shard's words. Words that had just come to her own mind after she had finished with her ball of Force energy, herself thinking that perhaps it wasn't the best place for a master-student duel. But she smartly remained quiet, knowing that this was something the two of them had to hash out. And allowing her a chance to calm her emotions back to a more normal and not chart-topping level.

Until she felt her master's touch in her mind, something to the gist that she shouldn't bother getting too close to Caleb, though he might be good for her. And then her eyes narrowed. Looma didn't need her master to tell her the merits of Cal, or to how long she should let the relationship last. She stayed still, however, the only mark that she had caught his unspoken words the darkening of her eyes and the slight pour of anger back into the Force. Otherwise she was still an example of calmness, waiting to see how Cal would respond to her master.