Revered and Reviled

Patience set aside the last scroll, an epistle from the hand of Marka Ragnos himself. She lay down on the bed, next to Carth, and looked up at the ceiling. Before she could finish forming a thought, she realized that Carth wasn't asleep. His lips claimed hers, he moved so that his body was over her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him eagerly and happily.
"I thought you were asleep!"
"I thought you were never coming to bed," he grinned, and kissed her again, gently at first, then with more passion and fire. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he murmured softly. "I want you," he kissed her wildly, "I want to make love to you. I was thinking that I didn't want to have my first time with you be here, in a place like this, but," he kissed her again before she could speak, "I just don't care!" He pressed himself against her, lips to lips, body to body, caressing her with hands, grinding himself against her. "By the powers, you're so wonderful and beautiful and loving, I can't think of anything else but you." She kissed him wildly, shocked and enchanted by his sudden declaration, and he kissed her again before he went on. "I know we'll probably get interrupted, we always do, but I don't care. I have to try!" He laughed hoarsely, his voice thick with passion and need, slid his hand beneath her shirt so he could touch her skin.
Patience tightened her arms around him, reveling in the feel of his body on hers. She didn't trust herself to speak, and instead wrapped her legs around his hips, letting him settle into her, letting his hardness crush her into the soft bed, letting his kisses set her on fire. She could feel her body warming to him, spreading open beneath the weight and heat of his body. She moaned softly, kissing his face, his hair, his neck, anywhere that she could touch. She reached down, fumbling slightly as she undid the clasp of her pants, and pulled them off, shoved them out of the way. Following her lead, Carth stripped off his shirt, then his pants, and let go of Patience long enough for her to pull off her shirt. He buried his face in her breasts, kissed them both, running his tongue over her softness and her licking at her nipples, making her cry out hungrily. Patience pulled his head back up to hers, her legs still wrapped around him, and gasped in ecstasy at the first touch of his hardness against the entrance to her body.
"Oh, yes," she gasped, and moved her legs, working him inside her. "Oh, Carth, yes," she cried out, and arched into his movement.
Carth moaned in pleasure at her tightness and her wetness, entered her carefully, moving gently inside her. She shrieked with pleasure, uncaring that others could hear her passion, and held him tightly to her. Carth thrust swiftly into her, groaning in animal satisfaction, and she pulled him even closer, her hips moving in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. Loud panting, wild cries, short screams, heralded their mutual release.
"Patience," Carth whispered in her ear, "my love, my own sweet love," he murmured as he came, and she made a soft noise, almost as if she were crying, and for a moment, Carth felt everything. The world around them, vibrant with life, slightly darker than it ought to be, but still shimmering with light here and there - the stars, hanging in the sky above, pinpoints of light in the darkness; the sea, far, far from where they lay panting, but still there, giving the world water and atmosphere and climate; the earth, the trees, the flowers, life-giving and loving and grateful to be freed from their dark taint - and running through it all, a pure, wonderful sense of love, barely tinged with desire. Love for him.
Carth woke up, to a soft hand on his forehead.
"Are you all right?" Patience asked nervously. "I think - I didn't mean to do that, whatever I did. I'm sorry!"
She was still completely naked, and Carth savored the sight for a few moments before answering. "Don't be sorry, that was wonderful. Amazing." He sat up slowly, his head still spinning. "That was ... the Force. I felt the Force, didn't I?"
Patience nodded. "You passed out."
"Yeah, that was... amazing. A little overwhelming." He stared at her. "Do you feel that all the time?"
"I try not to think about it," she smiled. "I have to focus to see everything like that, I didn't realize," she blushed, "that if I lost control, I would see it anyway. And share, apparently." She leaned over and kissed him.
"It was like... we were one," he said uncertainly, and she nodded. "You felt the same thing?"
She nodded again.
"Have you... always felt that?" he asked curiously, and she blushed, and was somehow even more beautiful than she had been before. Carth smiled. "No wonder you put up with me," he smiled, and drew her into his arms for a kiss. He kissed her sweetly, and for a very long time, but finally pulled away. "I need some water," he smiled. "I'll be right back."
Carth watched Patience lay down in the bed and pull a sheet over herself as he pulled on his pants. She smiled at him, and he slipped out of the room, trying to be quiet. The bath was at the end of the hall, as was the fountain. He washed his hands and took a quick drink of water, then filled a glass for Patience.
"Does she always do that?" asked the Twi'lek Sith Mistress. She was slightly flushed, and wearing only a long linen wrap.
"What?" asked Carth in surprise, then started to blush. "Wait – you felt it too?"
"I no longer wonder why she left the Jedi," smiled Mistress Ban. "I wouldn't give that up either. Not for anything." She looked him over curiously.
"Oh, Maker," Carth muttered under his breath, too embarrassed to move. "How far did she send it?" Mistress Ban's room was at the far end of the hall from where Patience and Carth slept. "I'm never going to live this down, am I?"
"Why would you want to?" she smiled. "Although if her emotional broadcast reached Master Wynn, you might want to consider staying out of his way. He might … take an interest in you." Mistress Ban looked him over as if she were considering it herself, but in a different fashion.
"I gotta go," said Carth hurriedly, and ran back to Patience. "Patience! Help."
"What?" She sat in confusion.
Carth, still bright red with embarrassment, put down the glass of water and slid under the covers with her. "They all think it's my fault!"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"They felt it! Mistress Ban felt it!"
"Oh." Patience tried not to laugh. "Oh. Well, in a way, it is your fault," she giggled. "Oh, Carth, you're so much fun to be with!" She pulled him to her for a kiss, laughing sweetly. "Don't worry," she said softly, kissing him again, "I won't let the Sith take you away from me."

"So, whose tomb is this?" Carth asked. They had left the Academy early, but not early enough to dodge quite a few stares from wondering students, and Carth had spent the entire time trying to hide behind Patience.
T3 beeped curiously, and Patience smiled gently.
"This is the tomb of Tulak Hord, a Weapon Master of the ancient Sith. He was one of the first great lightsaber duelists, and he was remarkably long-lived, even for a Force user. He lived for well over a thousand years, and spent most of them beating people in lightsaber duels."
"How long do Force users live?" he asked curiously as they stepped over more skeletons of students who hadn't thought to bring a droid to deactivate the security systems.
"Usually a few hundred years beyond their normal lifespan. Very powerful Force users tend to live longer, or rather, it takes them longer to start dying. I think the Force just gets so used to having them around, it forgets to let go," she grinned. "Here, T3, you open this door a bit, and I'll go in and disable the security so you two can come in."
T3 clicked assent, and got the gears to turn far enough that Patience could squeeze past the heavy door.
She slid inside, and gasped in shock as a crudely built valve spewed gas right in her face. She tried to fight off the effects, but the gas was a vicious neural suppressor that prevented her from concentrating enough to use the Force. Patience crumpled to her feet, and the door slammed shut behind her.
She stirred, trying to shake off the effects of the gas.
"Awake already, are you?" said a horribly old, vicious voice. "Good, good. You're strong."
Patience opened her eyes, and saw an old man, his eyes white and sightless from years of using Force Sight in preference to his eyes. He was tall, his cruelty and insanity clearly stamped on his face.
"Well, well, welcome to the tomb of the Sith Lord Tulak Hord. I've taken up residence here, for the time being," he cackled. "Granted, it's a bit drafty, and full of critters, but I like it here." He looked around the sparsely furnished room, at the walls decorated with statues of ancient Sith. "I get to keep such distinguished company." He looked at her, smiling in a way that made her skin crawl. "Their conversations are… fascinating."
Patience tried to move, and discovered that all she could do was turn her head slightly, enough to see that another student was in the room, stiff and crippled by the nerve gas just as she was. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice slurred and shaky from the gas.
Before he answered, she felt a soft whisper at the back of her mind. Cold fingers, seeking, wondering. Mocking her forms, her skill. Pointing out flaws in the stances that every Jedi learned, weak points in the defensive forms.
"Ah, of course, where are my manners. Introductions. I suppose you know this other – student," he said scornfully, pointing. "I believe he screamed that his name was Mekel. Say hello, Mekel," commanded the old man, and raised his hand threateningly.
The other student could only gasp in pain.
"I said to say your name, weakling," snarled the old man, and threw a wave of dark Force energy at the young man, making him scream in agony. "A few hours of torture, and you're bawling like a Twi'lek woman on the third round. You call yourself a Sith."
"Stop it!" Patience yelled in anger. "What are you doing?"
The presence in her mind questioned her anger. Sought something in her consciousness. Patience had the odd sensation that the ghostly presence in her mind was having a discussion with something hidden in her mind.
"You think that I should spare this pathetic weakling?" asked the old man. "Really, what has Uthar been doing while I've been gone? Not a single student worthy of the name," the old man grumbled.
"You're Jorak Uln," said Patience in surprise. "The former head of the Sith Academy."
"Yes!" said the old man in delight. "You recognized me?"
"No," said Patience, "I've heard of you. You were the master before Master Wynn."
"Master," the old man sniffed in disgust. "And this is all he has to offer? Sometimes I wonder why I bother, I really do."
"What are you doing?" She looked over at the other student, who was barely conscious.
"I am trying to teach," said Master Uln sternly. "I am trying to teach you to be a true Sith."
Something about his words stirred something in her mind, or perhaps it was the presence in her mind.
"A true Sith."
"Yes, a little test. Most of the drek that Uthar has been sending here," Master Uln shook his fist at the other student, "are so unbelievably pathetic that I'm beginning to suspect he's just trying to drive me insane."
"Drive you insane," she repeated in disbelief. "So where are you now?"
"Impertinence," said the old man admiringly. "Mekel here has already been tested." The young man writhed in agony, and Master Uln smiled, an incredibly foul and evil smile. "Yes, yes, you're quite welcome, my boy. He has been found wanting, but I am bored. He has the nature of a Sith, but he lacks the backbone and will to be a true Sith. So I offer you a little adjustment to your test."
"What test? What are you talking about?" Patience demanded.
"I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you will answer them as a true Sith would, or you will suffer. But every time you answer as a true Sith would, Mekel here will suffer. More." Master Uln laughed, in sick and evil joy. "So, are you up for it?"
"If you can hold out," Mekel gasped, "we can fight him, together!"
"Ah, brave boy," grinned Master Uln. "And very Sith-like, I must add. Of course, I assume you're planning to double-cross her as soon as you defeat me. Assuming you defeat me, and that I don't kill the both of you and rape your corpses until you're both so decomposed I can't get in your holes."
"You're a madman!" gasped Patience in horror.
"Oh, come now," smiled the old man, "what's a little mental instability between Master and student?" He laughed again, sending horrified thrills up and down her spine. "The important thing here is that we're all dedicated to improving the Sith as a whole. It's a big and serious job, that I take very seriously." His blind eyes turned towards Mekel again. "Unless I get distracted, of course."
"You disgusting, filthy old man! I'm not going to play your stupid game!" Patience yelled. She tried again to fight off the effects of the gas, and the presence in her mind continued going on about lightsaber dueling.
"I don't remember giving you a choice," Master Uln's voice became dark and vicious. "You can refuse to answer my questions if you choose to, but I shall just consider that to be a wrong answer. And you will suffer accordingly. It's up to you how much suffering you can take before you crack," he laughed. "It's a pity you're not another boy, I could have had so much fun."
"You sick, twisted – "
"First question!" he interrupted. "Let's see… your immediate superior amongst the Sith is an effective commander and a fine leader. He trusts you, and you like him. You see an opportunity to kill him. What do you do?"
"How exactly is living in a filthy tomb, eating vermin, and raping young men supposed to be helping the Sith as a whole?"
"Is that your answer, girl?" said Master Uln, his evil voice tight with anger.
"My name is Patience, you filthy failed insane excuse for a Sith!"
"Then it is time for your punishment," snarled Master Uln, and he threw a blast of incredibly painful Dark energy at her.
Patience screamed before she could stop herself, and suddenly her mind went away, back into the black recesses where the memories stolen from the Dark Lord Revan were hiding. She saw through Revan's eyes, a vast expanse of snow, and two bruised and broken bodies lying in the snow. Revan was sitting on the back of a large riding animal that stamped impatiently in the cold, its breath steaming and sweat rolling down its flanks. Revan had ridden hard, chasing down the two victims in a twisted hunt, with only a long, wicked multi-tailed whip for a weapon. It would have been simple enough to wrench the whip from Revan's hand and escape, if only the victims had been brave enough to risk a few blows. In the end, the man had fallen, exhausted, and the woman had tried to protect him while Revan had beaten them both to death.
She knew what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that she would kill her superior – after all, as a trusted second, she was obviously capable. And any Sith that trusted another should know that they would be betrayed at the first opportunity. That was the way of the Sith.
The pain stopped, and she came back to herself, shaking and weak.
"Your second question. Simple. Perhaps you'll do better this time. You come across a group of Humans who are threatened by dangerous animals. They plead for your help, and offer a substantial reward. What do you do?"
"Di'kutla shabla chakaar!"
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that you restrain yourself to a language that I can actually understand."
"Lev'ori besom!"
"Is that Mandalorian?" asked Master Uln. "Doesn't besom mean camp filth?"
"Mando'ad draar digur."
"Okay, I recognize that. That's a threat. In Mandalorian. I'm very insulted, and I think you deserve what's going to happen to you now."
The pain ripped through her again, but she held back a scream this time, and knew that it irritated him. Once again, she felt her mind pulled back into the dark places of Revan's memory. This time, she was watching through Revan's eyes at a man kneeling, his face on the floor, completely submissive at Revan's feet.
"As long as you live, Master, there is no other for me," said the man desperately. "Please, Master," he begged, "punish me however you wish, but do not discard me."
Revan's hand reached out, and again she saw the short, heavy, multi-tailed whip, and she realized that Revan's own hands had braided the heavy leather, set the heavy metal rings at the end.
"Are you afraid?" she heard Revan's voice, distorted by the mask, ask of the man on the floor.
He answered without moving or raising his head. "Only of your displeasure, Master."
She could feel Revan smiling in pleasure. "I'm not going to remind you of the rules again. I am going to give you a beating for your transgressions, and I expect to hear you count every blow."
"Yes, Master," said the man eagerly. Only a certain type of person would understand his sudden joy. No master would beat a slave that they didn't intend to keep. They fed on the suffering and the sensation. A beating meant that Revan planned to stay, would give him another chance to please his Master.
The whip sang out, ripping into his back with a solid thud, and he choked back a shocked scream. "One, Master." The blow had broken skin, a mark of mercy from this particular style of whip. A blow that didn't rip the skin would land with enough force to crush internal organs. More blows fell, and he obediently counted them out as long as he could, and finally Revan stopped.
"You are insolent, and disobedient. Perhaps you tire of me? Perhaps I should find another to satisfy my needs?"
"No, Master! There is no other, Master, there is no one but you!"
"Do not lie to me!" Revan hissed. "If you wish to leave, you have but to say the word. But if you wish to serve me, then be loyal! I do not share! I will not be cheated on!" Revan hurled the whip aside. "If I have to do this again, I will break you, do you understand?"
Of course a true Sith would take the payment, and then leave the fools to fight or die on their own. Promises made to people who were too weak to enforce them were just so many wasted words.
She returned to herself again, weak and shaken, but more disturbed by the glimpses of Revan's evil than by the pain.
"Well," said Master Uln cheerfully, "are you ready for the next question?"
She glared at him without answering.
"Let me see… you discover an aspect of the Force that gives you great power. Do you share it and strengthen the Sith as a whole, or keep it to yourself?"
The strange presence in her mind urged her to answer this question honestly. It would be funnier, insisted the cold whisper in her mind.
Patience looked over at Mekel, unable to move and quivering in pain. She couldn't watch him suffer, especially not to please an intruder in her mind. She smiled to herself, and decided to compromise. The strangely sibilant tones of the ancient Sith language rolled easily off her tongue.
"What?"
She repeated the words, wondering if he understood.
Master Uln burst into cruel, amused laughter. "Very good! I like that. You share it, but in a way that only the worthy will understand. Well. That's not an answer that I expected. I suppose I should give you half-credit for that, and only half the punishment." Instead of using the Force to wrack her with pain, he stepped closer and slapped her across the face with a blow that left her head ringing.
"Well, well. Let's move on, shall we?" Master Uln considered. "One of your underlings has made a terrible mistake that makes you look bad. Shameful. Normally, this underling is very competent and quite skilled. Do you kill him or give him another chance?"
"I don't know how to make this more clear to you, but I'm not playing your stupid game, Uln. Just deal out the pain."
"Stubborn," said Master Uln with grudging admiration. "And strong, too. If only… you know, you remind me of someone I used to know. Ah well, if it's pain you want, it's pain you'll get."
This time she disappeared into her own memories. This memory didn't have the horrible taste of Revan's evil. She was running down a hallway, her breathing panicked, her chest tight. "Father! Father!" she heard herself screaming, and she entered a room, and saw him lying on the floor, his swords fallen, blood pooled beneath him, and she screamed in horror and rage. "No! Father!" She ran forward, and threw herself on his body, unable to believe that he was really gone. She stared at the dear and familiar face, so very like her own, but cold and still now. "Father…."
She snapped out of the memory to find that tears were running down her face. The sense of loss stung deeper and more cruelly than any Force attack.
A true Sith would kill an underling who failed, of course. And any Sith that failed their Master would know better than to return while the memory of their failure was still fresh in their minds.
"This is your last chance, in more ways than one," smiled Master Uln. "You're about to die. Do you pass on your knowledge to your apprentice to make him stronger? Or do you use your last breath to strike at your enemies?"
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me."
"Err… are you trying to get extra credit? Because that's not an answer to my question," snapped Master Uln.
"Ja'ak." She threw off the effects of the nerve gas, and her lightsabers were out before Master Uln had a chance to react. "I am free," she repeated.
"What?" Master Uln looked outraged. "That's cheating! You're not allowed out before you answer the last question." He activated his lightsaber, a dual-bladed weapon that glowed a sickly greenish-red. "You're weak with pain, are you sure you want to do this? Foolish girl."
"Through passion, I gain strength," she hissed. "Through pain, understanding."
"What? That's not part of the Sith Code." He didn't have time to talk more, as he found himself facing a duelist of amazing skill. "Jar'Kai? True Jar'Kai? A true master of the Two Sword style? Who are you? Where did you come from?"
Patience laughed wearily. "Why does everyone ask me that? Why doesn't anyone know who I am?" Instead of being crippled by the pain, it seemed to be fuel for her – she moved faster than she ever had before. She blocked his lightsaber easily, dodged his attempts to throw Force energy at her as if he was standing still.
"But, but, you didn't answer!" wailed Uln, as he realized that he was going to fall to her flashing blades. "You didn’t answer."
Something in her mind, something oddly twisted and slightly dark, took pity on him. He was going to die, after all. He deserved this small kindness. Her lightsabers flashed once, and the old Sith Master fell to the ground, gasping, his arm completely severed from his body. Patience looked down at him, and saw that he was still listening to her, waiting for his answer. "A True Sith never dies."
Patience deactivated her lightsabers, and walked over to Mekel. The nerve gas was slowly wearing off, and he collapsed into her ams. She gently laid him on the bare floor, stroked his head to ease his pain.
The door slowly rolled back, and someone jammed a large rock as a wedge to keep it open, before running into the room. "Patience! Are you all right? What happened?"
Carth stopped, and stared at the body on the floor. The old man had the most evil eyes he had ever seen, but was smiling happily.
Patience looked at him curiously, but didn't speak. Mekel groaned, and sat up slowly. "Are you all right, child?" She checked his pulse, to make sure that the gas hadn't left any damaging aftereffects.
Mekel nodded. "You... you saved me," he said in disbelief. "You knew the right answers, but you wouldn't say them. Why?"
Patience ignored his question, and helped him to his feet. "What are you even doing in here?" she asked sternly.
"I... I was trying to prove myself. I don't know," Mekel said, confused and lost. "I thought that I could be - but I don't want to end up like him!" he said desperately. "I don't know, I don't know what to do now."
Patience looked at him. "Go home."
"I - I can't, I can't just go back. I can't just walk into the Jedi Temple and say I'm sorry for everything I've done!"
"Why not?"
Mekel looked at the floor, silent and ashamed.
Patience gestured at the body on the floor. "Either you find the will to face your past, or you go back and you end up like that." She grabbed the young man by the shoulders and shook him fiercely. "Wake up, little fool! What do you think I spared you for?"
"I'm sorry," said Mekel, "I - " he looked again at the corpse of Jorak Uln. "I'm going to Coruscant. I don't want to be a Sith. I'm not like that." He looked at her, really looked at her for the first time. "Thank you."
Carth watched silently as the young man left the tomb, then turned to Patience. "Are you - "
"You're not a Sith," she said curiously. "Nor a Jedi. What are you doing here?"
"What?"
"Wasn't there a girl, before? A pretty thing, with dark hair, innocent eyes, absurdly naïve? Where did she go?" She cocked her head and looked at him. A handsome man, a slight touch of the Force. He was looking at her very strangely. "Have we met?"
"No," Carth shook his head in shock. "Don't do this to me, please. What happened? What happened here?"
She looked around in confusion. "Wait, this isn't my cell - this is Korriban! What am I doing back on Korriban?" She put her hands to her head, trying to think, trying to remember. Suddenly she stopped, and looked at her hands in shock. "What? What? What's happened to me?" she gasped. She looked around in a panic, ignoring the man's attempts to calm her. "Where am I? Who am I? I - I can't remember, I can't think! Let me be, fool! I must think," she pushed him away, and staggered across the room, trying desperately to focus. "I must think. I was - "
Dead, whispered a cold, dry voice in her mind that she knew belonged to one of the statues on the wall. To ordinary eyes, they were carvings. But she knew what they truly were.
"Yes," she whispered, "but not completely. Not all of me."
Of course not, the voice in her mind agreed. And now you are alive, whispered one of the other statues.
"But not completely," she murmured again. She fell to her knees, pressing her hands against her head, trying to hold back the agony. "But why? Why am I here?"
Indeed, whispered another statue. Why? Why are you here?
"Patience, please," Carth begged. "Please talk to me. Please," he didn't know what else to say.
She looked at him in surprise. "What did you say?"
"Patience," he repeated, and knelt on the floor next to her. "It's your name. It's the only one I have for you."
She whispered the name, listened to the unfamiliar sound, the taste of the word. "This isn't where I'm supposed to be," she said suddenly. "I don't belong here, this isn't me. I see now, I understand. Please," she smiled softly, "do forgive me for intruding. I'll be going now. My apologies."
She collapsed, like a puppet whose strings had been suddenly cut, and fell right into his arms.
"Patience?" said Carth, shaking with terror. "Please, please say something."
She groaned softly. "Carth? It's so dark in here, please, get me out...."
Carth lifted her in his arms, holding her tightly. She was still limp, barely breathing. "Come on, T3, let's get out of here."