Learning stealth

[Bubák]

A young Mon Calamari Crusader knelt on a metal floor of a training room he chose for this class. While he had no experience at teaching others, maybe except his own apprentice, he had attended many classes for assassins in his life to have a clear image of what one should look like. The round, dim lit training chamber presented a great place for the Acolytes to listen to the teacher and learn, and then test their skill at hiding in shadows and using the powers Avreet would try to teach them. Particularly when learning Force cloak, the dim light would help the Acolytes to become invisible and test their new power. Before that though, they'd have to learn how to disappear without the help of the Force, using shadows and darkness. Good assassins had to know how to do that, and to Avreet's surprise, not many Sith who aspired to learn the art of stealth even considered that.

Avreet took a deep breath, focusing on perfectly masking his Force presence and signature, so he couldn't be felt through the Force. Another thing he was going to teach the ones who wanted to go down the same path as him. The Mon Calamari did not, however, use Force cloak to be completely invisible, as he didn't share Xanthus' joy in playing with minds of others. An amused smile crept to the Mon Cal's face, remembering the class with the powerful Sith assassin, how he created several clones of himself and pretended to die, only to create a Force projection of himself, then a Sith lord came to see the class while disguised as a student,... Good times.

Feeling several presences, the Crusader opened his large orange eyes and started at the door, expecting it to open at any second. His gaze briefly fell upon a red carpet that lied in front of him, and while it looked like something for the Acolytes so they would not have to sit on the cold floor, it was actually a tool that was going to help him demonstrate a few things. Avreet only hoped the class was not going to prove to be too boring for the ones who wanted to learn from him, but on the other hand, a good assassin had to learn patience. One last look around to see if the medpacs still lied behind him in case the Acolytes got hurt, and Avreet stood up, his webbed hands clasped behind his back, the big fish-like eyes staring intently at the opening door.

 

[Rector_Ras]

Raslekx had Taken a couple of other classes working to gain power that would be useful in combat. All of his other classes where on basics that every Sith needed and every sith knew. This class he knew would be different. Here could learn to conceal himself from other whether they use the force or not. Though none of the powers he had learned so far would help him much here he wanted to be good with the skill. It was something that could make him different from some other sith.

Walking into the room where the Calamari Crusader was he noticed the sith kneeling. Unsure why as none of his previous teachers had done so he knelt in front of the sith Crusader.Bowing his head and greeting the Sith he said " My Lord I am here to attend the class you are teaching about stealth." Giving the room a quick look he noticed the med kits and thinking that the class might be hands on rather then being given an explanation and trying something out by themselves. Now Hoping that the other students didnt take long to come Raslekx was anxious to get started.

 

[Galisdoren]

There was a breathtaking magnificence to the great room, glittering ivory dazzling the eyes, struck with the silvery starlight that streamed through the occasional crags of the glacial cavern, where sharp, sparkling teeth of ice hung to point jagged points at the floor below and those who lurked upon it. Great pillars of frozen crystal supported the high ceiling. About the room, scattered across the cold walls, were crude gargoyles, carved from the glacier, and below, steel walkways and balconies stretched through the cavern, and crates were scattered about in some makeshift fashion. A half dozen people wandered the room below, armed and dangerous, but unsuspecting of the assassin that stood vigilant upon a slippery ledge above their heads. The man was clad in a simple cloak of light grey, to match the shadows of the cave, and in his hand he clasped a large baton, crackling quietly as thin tendrils of electricity crawled about it's end. The assassin was also armed with an assortment of other things that would come in handy for clearing out the room. His blue eyes surveyed the scene for a few minutes more, watching every movement of the calm men below, studying their actions. When he had noticed a pattern, he pulled an object from the belt hidden behind his cloak, and studied it for a brief moment before shuffling closer to the edge and setting his cold gaze upon a gargoyle just across the room. Pointing the object, a small and dull cylinder, his thumb moved to press a button, deploying a silent, firm weaved line tipped with a steel claw. It shot across the room to dig into the gargoyle with the muffled sound of metal dragging against ice. A few curious mutters arose from below, but it died quickly. Thamis slid onto the rope, testing his balance as it slightly dipped under his weight. It was thin, but he had trained to walk along it with relative ease, and, though he crouched, inched along it's length with a decent, not unbalancing swiftness.

As he moved, his pupils darted to the positioning of the men, observing them carefully. He caught sight of one passing beneath him, oblivious to the predator that lurked just above his head. With his ankles clasping the rope firmly, his feet tensed around the line, Thamis lowered himself head first, careful to keep silent. Just a few inches above the man's head, now, he reached down with his hand, wrapping one firmly around his mouth while the other slid to his neck. A quick press to the nerves there and the man sank, unconscious, to the floor. He had to give himself a swing to reach the rope and haul himself back onto it, panting slightly with the effort before continuing on his way to his chosen perch. When he finally reached it, a shout rang out, as one of the men discovered the body. Thamis dropped, knowing he'd be able to reach the gargoyle again by climbing the ice wall, which was littered with small nooks and crannies, secure enough for a firm hold. He drew up without a sound behind a pile of crates, lying in wait as the men spread out to find the culprit. One made the mistake of rounding the corner, hardly comprehending the beast that jumped out at him from the edge of his sight before he fell just as his ally had. There was a brief smirk of satisfaction before Thamis drew another item from his belt, a small dart. Climbing back to his perch in an expert display of acrobatics, he awaited another to stray near, before inserting the dart and putting the pipe to his lips. His cheeks expanded as he blew, and the projectile flew towards it's destination, striking the man in the neck. He gave a shout before falling to the paralyzing toxins within.

The remaining three men hurried toward the shout of their distressed comrade, and one passed beneath him. Thamis fell, his feet slamming into his shoulders, smashing him into the ground. He was about to deliver a powerful hit with his baton when the clear order rang out, echoing powerfully through the cave. "Stop!" Thamis immediately recognized the voice of his instructor, analyzing the scene from his own ledge above the room. Now he leapt down, approaching Thamis with a firm eye, which he returned carefully. "You're such a brute." The man acknowledged disapprovingly. "And that is not how one would normally refer to an assassin! You must be silent and quick, you must strike your enemy without a sound and alert no one to your presence. You must be a shadow, and shadows do not make noise!" He shook his head, turning his back. "We'll try again when the others have recovered. In the mean time, think upon your actions very carefully. Assassination does not only take great physical skill, but a high mental ability, as well. For now, you are dismissed." With a slight frown, Thamis nodded and departed. I'll do better next time, he thought.

"I'll do better next time."

The thought rang in his ears as his eyes opened, the memory fading. It had taken him years to master the art of stealth, and many times he had failed. He was determined never to fail again. Today, he'd learn what his old master could not have even dreamed of teaching him. Stealth, and how to use it with the force. The acolyte stood from his sitting position in the small room. It was time he got to his class, and with a sigh of acknowledgement, Thamis moved to the door to pass into the hall. The room he had been told to go for the class wasn't too far away from where he was currently positioned, and a few minutes later, he stood at the door with an emotionless scowl. He quickly wrapped his cloak around his armored form, another sigh passing through his lips. His hand rose to push the door aside to reveal the chamber where the light faded just inches inside. It took a brief moment for his eyes to adjust, though the discomfort was not visible behind the horned cowl he wore. Stepping into the room, Thamis turned his head to view it's inhabitants. There was a brief grunt of recognition before Thamis ventured deeper into the confines of the chamber, a mute cloud seeming to surround him as not a sound rose from his movements. In the next moments, he stood before the man that was to teach him, and blinked with acknowledgment, but uttered not a word as he studied the Crusader. Thamis noticed he couldn't sense his presence, and realized it must have been masked. Then his hard, calculating gaze flickered to Raslekx, of whom he analyzed curiously. Thamis had heard him speaking as he had entered, but he did not follow the other acolyte's example. Rather, he drew his cloak tighter around his muscled frame, the flawless white orbs of his goggles glaring out at them, and shining menacingly in the darkness. Every detail, even the smallest, was taken in and torn apart by Thamis's voracious mind, and his cold gaze was unrelenting, eerie, as the goggles of the Sith's mask gave off the appearance of large, round, and lifeless eyes, devoid of emotion, or anything else, portals to some empty oblivion. And as the dim light caressed his armored form, the mold of a devil took shape.

 

[Omnis]

A short figure wearing a heavy cloak walked into the austere training room, hood up and masking its facial features. The figure was very grey, right down to the combat boots, his heavy gloves hiding his dark blue skin. He was an Ulrh'adak, no longer young in years. It had been many years since he had been young in mind too, having been a soldier in his first war at the age of ten. He observed those present in the room without moving his head, standing just out of the way of the door. Though he seemed unarmed, his cloak undoubtedly concealed at least one weapon. However, as a new Acolyte, Nox had not yet earned his lightsaber. That had yet to be an issue, so he didn't mention it.

He considered the interesting divergence in the room. Two presences, easily seen by sight and mind. A third, only by the former method. Well, it matched his expectation. Learning to conceal his presence in the Force was exactly what he had signed on for. It held no significance, in his mind, that he had skipped the conventional path of learning more basic training before attempting this class. In his clan, hard work earned reward. Being here meant he was dedicated, nothing less.

The man known as Death's Figment stepped forward, avoiding the carpet casually, and gave a moderate bow to Avreet. Though he undoubtedly saw the other two Acolytes, Raslekx and Thamis, he made no motion to acknowledge them. Though he was not a casual person by nature anyways, Nox maintained his silence and stillness out of respect for his teacher. An Ulrh'adak assassin knew respect, place, and patience.

 

[Indigo]

A much shorter figure soon followed in, their pale yellow eyes glancing malevolently at the other various students. Nirulve subconsciously immediately hid his presence in the force; between that and his plain, beige clothing he wore on his back there was little indication he was a Sith. Indeed, if not for his large, drooping ears and sword across his back, there was little to suggest he was little more than a child. Nirulve's eyes swiftly searched their surroundings, paying particular attention to the Sith. He knew none of them, and had never seen any other than the Mon Calamari before. It was unfortunate; he had hoped that there would be comparatively few people interested in assassination. The medpacs lying in a corner did nothing to alleviate his already high stress; the chance of injury began to set his heart racing. While he had proven himself a reasonably skilled infiltrator over his time with the Sith he had never trained in any sort of combat; the only killing he had ever done had been completely one sided. He recalled with a dim agony how painful a process the previous Sith to teach him how to hide his presence had been, and silently prayed to unknown gods that these Sith be more merciful, and less inclined to assault his students. He silently walked to an uninhabited part of the room, a decent distance away from the rest of the people there. He didn't know which of them was the teacher, and bowing to students would most likely end in ridicule and pain.

 

[Bubák]

Acknowledging the first Acolyte's presence with a simple nod, Avreet thought whether to correct the mistake he had made or not, then decided to do it. The sooner the Acolyte learns how to adress his superiors properly, the better. "I am a Crusader, not a Lord, Acolyte." Avreet silently said to the white haired humanoid. The next one to come was an armoured man, who didn't bother to greet the teacher or even to introduce himself, just staring at the Mon Calamari. Avreet stared back with a visible frown into the guy's goggles, not breaking the gaze until the Acolyte turned his sight to the white haired student. The Mon Cal's large fishy eyes swiveled in the direction of the door, as he felt yet another presence approaching. This time, he could tell the newcomer was a Noghri. Quite an interesting species, but Avreet did not judge people by their race. This new Acolyte had been taught enough manners to at least simply bow to the teacher, which was more than enough to Avreet. The Noghri's respect could be literally felt, surprisingly. Not many Acolytes really respected their teachers.

The last student, a Lannik, hid his Force presence shortly after appearing in the class. Not very effective, as everyone else already knew about him, thus making it harder for him to hide his presence. Avreet did not even have to focus to feel him. Indeed, the Lannik's stress betrayed him and gave his position away. He'd have to learn how to control himself better if he wanted to become a true Sith. The amphibious Crusader looked at everyone once again before extending both of his hands and carefully levitating the Lannik closer to the others. It did not end there, though. Twelve streams of sparks flew out of Avreet's fingers, the blue energy of the Dark Side hitting Galisdoren and Nirulve into various places on their bodies, incredible pain overwhelming their senses. After several seconds passed, Avreet stopped and tossed a couple of medpacs towards them. "Has nobody taught you of respect, Acolytes?" he asked casually, referring to the fact neither of them bothered to greet him in any way. Now, he was ready to start the class.

"Welcome to the class, students. You have come here to learn about stealth, and I will do my best to help you with that. Let's start, shall we?" the Mon Cal asked calmly, but had no intention of waiting for their answer.

"I assume you already know you should stay in the dark and stay out of your enemies' sights. What many assassins forget though, is that you should not be heard just as much as you should not be seen. You may have noticed when walking into the room that the floor is made from metal, which means unless you go slow and properly distribute your weight, your steps will be heard and give away your position. Always watch what you walk upon!" Avreet motioned towards the carpet, "Soft surface, such as this carpet here, won't make much noise if you walk over it, so you can go faster and close the distance between you and your target."

"Naturally, if you can avoid direct confrontation, choose that over eliminating your opponents! There are situations when you will be forced to eliminate a patrol or take out guards standing in your way. Lightsabers make such a loud hum and produce plenty of light! Either use the ability we are going to learn later, or use a knife or a silenced blaster. These weapons still leave blood though, so if possible, use your hands and knock your enemies out. Don't forget to hide bodies, please." Avreet paused for a while and started pacing back and forth, about to talk about something he knew well, infiltration. His tone remained neutral, calm, almost soothing.

"If your race allows it, you should consider using a disguise. From a simple technician to a military officer, the possibilities are endless. You have to carefully plan your objectives and avoid being detected, know where you're allowed to be. It's not hard, really," Avreet definitely had an easier job since his species belonged to the most staunch rebellion supporters, "Try to look natural, have a good explanation for everything you do. Remember, the Force is on your side, never panic and always keep your guard up." The Mon Cal paused again and stopped pacing, facing the students. "Any questions so far?"

 

[Omnis]

Nox watched passively as Thamis and Nirulve were punished with the tangible fury of the dark Crusader. He marked their suffering with a shifting of his head to watch carefully, then returned his attention to Avreet. When it was over and the medpacs were lying on the floor next to two of his fellow Acolytes, Nox listened carefully as the Mon Calamari spoke. The display had been interesting, but not surprising. The discipline was similar to that of his own clan.

The dark Crusader's words were nothing new to Nox. Whereas some Acolytes were recruited into the Sith early in age and career on the basis of showing promise, Nox was already a seasoned veteran of multiple wars and a proficient assassin. However, his respect for his superiors had been ingrained in him early on by his original masters and family. It never hurt to be reminded of the basics. Fools often met death too soon due to an insufficient memory, forgetting themselves in crucial moments.

"Not so far, Crusader." Nox answered Avreet. Though a simple nod or even silence might have sufficed, and Nox was ever disposed towards reticence, he had learned long ago that masters and teachers asked questions for a reason. At least, the right kinds did. An intelligent person rarely enjoyed hearing themselves speak, especially when it felt wasted on the walls or the air. The courtesy was the least Nox could provide, but not the most he would in this instance. He could not define why yet, but he had a feeling he would like this Crusader.

From beneath his hood, The Adolescent Death eyed Thamis and Nirulve again without letting on. The curiosity struck him regarding how well they would handle the situation and the pain.

 

[Galisdoren]

The floor was not of cold ice and snow, or even iron, as it usually was, or if it was iron, he could not tell. Upon the floor's surface, a pit had been carved, and within it, small flames flickered along hot coals. He eyed it warily. It was just another one of the tortures he was made to suffer through each day, though this one seemed a bit more milder than the other punishments he had faced. His instructor gestured at the red hot coals, smiling somewhat cruelly at Thamis, but wisdom shone in his eyes. "As you've undoubtedly been told many times before, if you are to continue on your quest, you must overcome great agony, both physically and mentally. Pain is only an illusion, but do not fight it. Let it consume you. Let it fuel your struggles, not break you. Let it become not a weapon for your enemies, but a tool for your own survival. Become one with the pain. Understand it. Bond with it. And when you feel that you have mastered it, release it, let it dissipate from your mind, fade from existence itself, and, if you must, set it forth on a path toward your own power." Thamis nodded knowingly at his instructors words. Pain was an illusion. It deserved to be acknowledged only for that, and then ignored, thrown from his mind like trash. He had faced great agony before, though he was yet to master it. But he knew this wasn't the last he'd face the pain that his instructor will surely thrust upon him. By the time he'd leave Hoth, it would not longer bare any significance to him. Thamis looked down at his bare feet for a moment, before stepping forth, placing a single foot upon the burning coals. "Remain focused." His instructor's voice echoed through his mind. He set his thoughts upon a single goal, and onto the flames his second foot went. The coals sizzled for a moment, orange tongues licking at his flesh. Thamis grimaced, the pain rushing up his feet, but pressed on. He would not give in. Though the pain was enough to make him tremble and pant, the apprentice would move no quicker. He had to be careful, and step slow and lightly, for a misstep could lead to severe burns upon his feet, if they had not already been scarred. It seemed that minutes had passed, and strained breath slithered between clenched teeth, but he had finally made it, and his foot pressed thankfully against the cool snow on the other side. His burning feet gave a hiss before the pain was flooded with an uncomfortable numbness. He had done it. He had reached his goal despite the pain. From that moment on, no pain would hinder him. No pain would stop him. No agony would break him.

"Pain is an illusion."

He saw the sparks dance along the crusader's fingertips, and, for a brief time, did not expect them to be for him. He had not shown any sort of disrespect, quite the opposite, in fact. For in his mind, he had felt all the respect that he believed would sate the man. Was it surely required that he speak? Avreet was making his own self out to be a real fool with this one, and Thamis didn't tolerate fools lightly, though this one was beyond his power, he knew. Thamis was no fool. He wasn't cocky, and thought no more of himself than a lowly acolyte would. He had always been taught that silence was the most valuable ally of an assassin. He was not to speak unless spoken too, unless it was of absolute need. Yet this assassin, or so he called himself, seemed to fancy noise over the muteness that a true assassin would be expected to possess. Why? Perhaps he was no master assassin at all. In fact, the impression that the crusader was terribly full of himself was an immediate one when the hungry tendrils began to reach for the acolyte. Thamis, himself, was hardly full of himself. He understood his position and limits quite well. Thamis tensed, bracing for the impact, before remembering his teachings. A moment before, and he relaxed comfortably, and as the lightning crawled over him, he did little more then stagger a few small steps, cutting off a gasp with clenched teeth. It consumed him for a brief moment, shooting fire through his veins, but he shoved it out of his mind with forceful disregard, sneering at it through his thoughts. Where it endeavored to master him, he instead mastered it, just as he had been taught through the heinous tortures he had been forced to endure in his years of training. What had been meant as punishment became little more than a slight inconvenience.

"Has nobody taught you of respect, Acolytes?" Avreet spoke.

Thamis let a slight smile creep across him lips, as the strangest sound was uttered from them, a smooth growl, somewhat of a hum, perhaps even a chuckle, as one might describe it, though it was quiet, nearly inaudible. Has no one taught him how to sense? Or does this one simply assume? I acted as an assassin should. My respect and acknowledgement was silent, as it should be. I will not voice what does not need to be voiced. Unless Sith assassins are imperious brutes, he had no right to challenge my attitude, for it was is expected from someone like myself. Perhaps if I had actually shown some disrespect, I'd accept the punishment. But for now, I will only accept the opinion that he is a fool, though perhaps it was a simple misunderstanding, though he will prove that later in the session, I hope. Shaking it off as somewhat as an amusement, he'd retain the memory for later use, of course. The sith acolyte listened to the teacher then, ignoring the medpac with a scowl, which had replaced the grim smile just as quickly as it had come. Thamis was certain that it wasn't likely anyone would have spotted the change in his expression, for it was now just as dark and menacing as ever. For now, there was little knowledge he cared for. Most of what Avreet described he was already well trained and prepared in. Given his current skill, it hardly mattered the surface he'd be walking upon. He knew to distribute his weight accordingly, having walked without a sound into the room in an obvious display of skill. He was also skilled in hand to hand combat, and knew just where to target so as to attack a body's nerves and leave an enemy paralyzed or unconscious in one silent instant. Since there was nothing to gain from what was currently being said, the sith, having regained his tall and powerful composure, stood just as quietly as before, still staring out at the group to study their behavior as he always did.

 

[Rector_Ras]

Being surprised by the fact that this sith corrected him on addressing him as a higher rank then what he was Raslekx raised an eyebrow thinking that this was a sith not so full of himself as some could be. He knew that he shouldn't have said Lord to someone that was not a Lord but every sith that had taught him had been a lord or at least a master in which he would call them a lord anyway. It was for that reason he couldn't help but wonder how this sith would hold up as a teacher compared to Lord wiess and Master Xanthus. Both of the others had been fairly patient with the acolytes and both had used the force on them as examples of what to do even showed off a bit Also noticing that two of the acolyte hadn't even shown any respect or introduced themselves he thought they would most likely be the kind of sith who thought better of themselves then was really there. They where the sith he would probably have more problems with.

When the sith lord started his opening statement of the class he thought that this sith would do as well as the others as a teacher. He seemed to have the same attitude. When he got to the part about the floor being metal Raslekx started to wonder. " If the metal makes noise when you walk on it could you just levitate over it?" Never having levitated and moved at the same time it was only an idea. He could levitate in a still place how much harder could moving around be?

As the sith finished and asked for questions he decided that asking about the levitation couldn't hurt. It was a way to not make noise if it worked wasn't it? So looking towards the sith Raslekx asked " You said the metal would make more noise then say the carpet. I can agree with that and I know it wouldn't always be an option. But could you not levitate over the metal making no noise at all or even any noisy material for that mater?"

 

[Indigo]

The tiny Lannik had no idea what was happening; in mere seconds after arriving he felt the sudden flow of force around him; he was being levitated. He panicked, but did not react; the sentient using the power was the Mon Calamari; with a rush Nirulve realized that they must have been the teacher that was to train them. Before he could greet or bow to today's teacher, they sent a shock of lightning at him. Nirulve let out a howling screech, his body flailing wildly in an effort to get the sparks away. Why? Why? Nirulve had done nothing wrong! Was walking into class such a crime? His mind screamed at the cruelty of it all; what was the point of this punishment? Finally, the pain ended, and the little creature lied on the floor, small tufts of smoke simmering from him. The Mon Calamari spoke again, and it took Nirulve a minute to realize what he had said. Respect?! He hadn't even known who amongst the bunch was the teacher; it was not like the Sith had particular dress codes that allowed for easy identification of leaders. Any one of them could have been the teacher, he didn't know. He hadn't been on Korriban, or amongst the Sith in general, for years. It seemed absurd.

Bitterly he thought to himself, as he rose unsteadily to his feet, that only the Sith punished people for having made a small social faux pas. It was absurd. He glanced briefly at the other acolyte, noting that they were ignoring the medpac at their feet. Sighing inwardly, Nirulve knew it would be a sign of weakness to these other acolytes to use such a thing. Nirulve had quite forgotten how much he hated being among his own kind, but the old fear and hate was returning to him now.

The Mon Calamari began speaking, droning on about the basics of stealth. Interesting things to keep in mind certainly, although Nirulve had to admit that most of what Avreet said was Nirulve's bread and butter for the past several years. It was very easy for Nirulve to distribute his weight, given how little he weighed. The point on the lightsabers was entirely wasted; Nirulve had literally never used one in his life. His sword had been responsible for every life he had ever taken. The recommendation of using hands and feet was also lost on Nirulve; he very much lacked the leverage for any sort of efficient fisticuffs. The concept of a disguise was interesting; Nirulve had never attempted one given how skilled at hiding he was. His appearance, which was antonymous with threatening, was a reasonably large help. The Mon Cal finally paused to ask for questions, but Nirulve had nothing to say. He sorely wished he could just leave. The lesson thus far had not been even slightly worth the pain he had endured to get it.

 

[RedRaine]

Trinaty was late for the class she had wanted to take it was a class on stealth and since she was already late she wasn't really hurrying to get there. So as she walked along slowly moving toward where the class would be held she yawned softly she had just woken up which was in fact the reason she was late. She was nearing the classroom and decided to hurry running the last to feet as her feet hit the ground it echoed in the empty hallway she stopped running and walked into the classroom's doorway she quickly assessed those in the room. The one that automatically stood out was the one who was most likely the instructor a Mon Calamari standing in front of everyone then the big armored man who had a med pack at his feet, next the white haired acolyte he didn't seem to stand out much besides this she turned her gaze to the heavily cloaked figure then lastly the small Lannik with the sword who as well had a med pack at his feet and then looked strangely at the red carpet in front of the Mon Calamari. She turned back to the Mon Calamari and entered the room sure that all of them new she was hear as she couldn't yet mask her presence in the force. She stepped forward standing next to the heavily cloaked figure and bowed to the Mon Calamari "Sorry for my lateness" was all she said before standing back up straight and smoothing out her black tunic which was covered mostly by her equally black cloak its hood on her back and around her waist was her utility belt her double-bladed lightsaber strapped on the left side and below this was her black pants and boots.

 

[Bubák]

Nox did not have any questions, and he let Avreet know, unlike the two Acolytes who just stared at him. They did not apologize for anything they had done, they did not communicate, they just stood there as statues. Softly sighing, Avreet decided to answer Raslekx's question instead of bothering with the two. His gaze shifting towards the white haired humanoid, the Mon Calamari nodded, "Yes, if you know how to levitate yourself, you can do it. It would actually be the preferrable option, as it makes no sound at all, but then again, there are not many who know how to levitate themselves. If you go in a team though, you can ask your fellow Sith to levitate you somewhere, then you levitate them to your position." Avreet hoped the answer was enough for Raslekx, but the Crusader had no practical experience with such a thing. It might be worth a try during the next mission.

Before the amphibian started talking about Force stealth, another Acolyte entered the class. The girl was polite enough to apologize for being late and bowed to him, so Avreet chose not to punish her in any way. A simple motion with his hand signalled her to join the others and listen, the main part of this lesson was coming. "As you probably know, Sith assassins value two powers above all others. Those powers are Force stealth and Force cloak. They are not hard to learn, but difficult to master. If you want to become an assassin, you have to constantly practice them in order to be completely invisible. We'll start with Force stealth, which is the easier one of the two powers. It hides your presence and signature in the Force, just as it allows you to alter your signature." Avreet paused for a while to allow the Acolytes absorb the information before continuing.

"Please remember that if you hide your presence, you cannot be felt at all. That is useful when your Force sensitive enemy cannot see you and you don't want them to feel you. If they see you though, and cannot feel you, they naturally realize you are hiding your Force presence. Every creature can be felt in the Force. To appear as an average sentient being, hide. To appear as a Jedi, alter it. Now Acolytes, I want you to meditate and focus on yourself. Let my voice guide you." Avreet knelt down and waited for everyone to assume their own favourite meditating position.

"Feel the Force all around you. It is like a sea. It is flowing through you in a river. Each of you has their own river, but others can feel it thanks to the sea that connects us all. You want to block the others from feeling your river. Imagine it like building a barrier, a big dam between your river and the sea. Throw pebbles into the water, then rocks, boulders. Don't let the sea have any contact with your river!" To demonstrate a little bit, Avreet stopped using Force stealth, revealing his presence to everyone in the room, then hid it, repeating it all a few times so the Acolytes could literally feel how he did it. The power really wasn't hard to learn once they understood how exactly to do it. Avreet did not use the comparison to water just because he was a Mon Calamari, but because both Master Volitu and Master Xanthus also compared it like that when they taught him.

 

[Rector_Ras]

Being the only one that asked a question Raslekx was a bit paranoid until the answers was that he was correct. He knew now that learning to levitate was more useful then it had appeared when he was learning it but now he had to master how to do so as it could potentially be part of what would make him unnoticeable. After he got his paranoia control he noticed that the two acolytes that had been shocked still didn't speak. They didn't acknowledge the fact that the master had asked for questions Not so much as a shake of the head where as the only other acolyte had said no he didn't have any.

With another Acolyte joining the class she looked young. She even had the right mind to bow and say sorry already showing more respect then two of the now five acolytes. This was now by far the biggest class he had been in. His others had only one or two other acolytes now there where four more.

The sith Crusader started speaking to them again. After explaining that they would learn to conceal there force presence first he had them them meditate and so Raslekx sat down with crossed legs with his hand casually in front of him. Listening to the Crusader he did as he was told. He opened himself to the force around him. Feeling everything he possibly could. He took himself and the other acolytes and even the crusader as rivers coming off of a big ocean. When the crusader said to make a barrier and throw rocks into the river he could see why he used them as an example. With rocks you could decide how many to put in allowing only so much to come threw or to block it all. Raslekx did as he was told and had imagined that rocks of all sizes came down into the river blocking its way from the ocean making sure no water could get by what so ever. He sat there when he thought he was done concentrated on maeing sure they staid there

 

[Galisdoren]

His cold gaze strayed to the Lannik, which clearly had little tolerance of pain, or at least in such an excruciating form. For a brief moment, Thamis studied him, urging him to take the medpac with his thoughts, though they could not be heard by any other but himself. It seemed the little creature would need it. As he was sure an acolyte might think, taking help could be considered a sign of weakness. He held no such belief. Taking help when it was offered was exactly that. It was obviously being given for a reason. While Thamis was not keen on accepting any sort of help himself, that was a trait of his loner personality, though he had little against the help itself. The acolyte took a few more moments to study the small Sith before returning his attention to the crusader at the front of the class, who was now moving into a more interesting topic. Something Thamis was yet to have learned and mastered. While he now held little respect for the Mon Calamari that had so unjustly punished him and the Lannik, he would listen for the power that was to be granted to him. When Thamis had entered the class, he had, of course, felt great respect toward his teacher, but that had faded. But not so much for the fact that he had been punished for simply acting as he had been trained to act, but because the Lannik hadn't even made it into the room to introduce himself yet before he had felt the Crusader's wrath. Targeting the small Sith as he had, as if in a purposeful and sadistic display of power, had earned the Mon Calamari a future enemy. It would take some time for that relationship to abate into a more accepting one, and that was only if the amphibian managed to redeem himself.

Thamis lifted his head as another acolyte hurried in. He gave a disapproving look, but offered a nod in acknowledgement. The disapproval would not have been spotted through his cowl, though it may have been felt. However, the mistake was not a costly one, and Thamis was hardly the type to hate a person for a simple mistake, though if it became a habit, he'd have little respect for the girl. His disapproval faded a bit, however, at her apology. He would have done the same, as would be expected. If he was in the wrong, Thamis knew well enough to accept that, and since the girl offered no excuse, the acolyte gave a second, more slight nod than the first, this one of some slight respect, though he doubted anyone would notice. It was simply a small action in response to his own thoughts. When all had settled again, Avreet resumed his lesson, explaining what they were to do, and how they were to achieve force stealth. By the way he described it, it didn't seem all that difficult to learn, or imagine, for that matter. Picturing a river in your head? He had quite the vivid mind, and that hardly seemed as if it would require any sort of effort. Moving toward the poor Lannik, Thamis uttered a small, quiet greeting and the briefest flash of a friendly smile before settling down on the floor beside him, crossing his legs and balancing his elbows upon his knees.

His eyes closed, though the ones of his goggles remained eternally open, giving the man an eerie appearance. Silently, he imagined what he had been instructed to, but instantly realized that mastering the stealth power would not be nearly as easy as he had originally thought it would be. The first time, he blocked the water off with a simple thought, but that had been little more than a colorful conjuration in his mind. The next few times began to build a frustration within the acolyte, as he forcefully slammed the boulders into place, demanding the river stop it's flow, but to no avail, the more force he applied, the less power he had over the image, and the water slipped through the cracks, taunting him. Thamis growled, ready to give up, when his former teacher's voice echoed through his mind. "Relax. Think. If you stress yourself, you will fail. Now, be calm, and try again, and this time, take your time. Do not allow yourself to be irritated. Work with it, not against it." The wisdom had been granted to him in one of the many training sessions he had undergone, and now he took the words to heart. With a deep breath, Thamis calmed himself and relaxed. Instead of throwing the rocks into place, he carefully placed them, one by one, making sure the wall was sturdy, and filled the cracks with the sand of the riverbed. With no way for the water to escape into the sea that stretched beyond his firm and well constructed barrier, Thamis's presence began to fade. But then a problem arose, one Thamis had not expected. As the water had no way to escape, it began to rise, higher and higher until it flooded over the barrier, and cascaded back toward the sea. Desperately, the acolyte attempted to build back the barrier, higher than before, but a few moments more, and the wall toppled, the boulders spilling into the water with mocking splashes. A curse fell from his lips, but it was not loud enough to understand, though the annoyed tone was obvious enough. Glancing upward, the young Sith observed the other acolytes studiously, curious as to how they were getting along. Better than him, perhaps?

 

[Omnis]

Nox did not waste any time, closing his eyes and relaxing his body slightly. He remained standing, instead of sitting or kneeling. Meditation could be achieved in any position.

Entering a dark and cold mind scape, the veteran assassin focused on the Force and what he could sense. He started by paying attention to the signatures around him first, instead of centering on himself. He felt the changes being wrought, sought out what was being done right and what had been done wrong. Then, he began work on his own wall.

Nox was meticulous, patient. He started as the Crusader said, with "pebbles," then worked his way up to supposed boulders. The Death like figure focused on the flow anywhere it was still getting through or coming down, then built up his barrier again so that his presence would be hidden in an "eddy" created by his barrier. He didn't need a giant barrier or to shut himself off from the flow completely, he just needed to seem like a more natural part of the overall current. Not everything was a complete fight. Give and take, give and take.

When he had successfully put up his stealth for the first time, Nox broke it down quickly. Still in his meditative state, the hooded Noghri then tried to put it all together at once, faster. A soldier fought as they trained, so it would do no good to practice too many times at half speed or half measure. He repeated the process a few times, strobing in and out of the flow of the Force more smoothly and less noticeably each time as he worked out kinks in the process.

When he finally felt comfortable with the technique, he waited for the Crusader's input and filled his time by probing for the others that had been successful. Might as well. More effort into knowing how to use and counter the technique couldn't hurt.

 

[Indigo]

Nirulve was mildly interested in the concept of levitation as a thought exercise, but it seemed unlikely that he would ever do it; years of not using his basic telekinentic powers had caused them to atrophy to uselessness. Another person, a female, entered. Nirulve was moderately surprised that she was not tortured for her late entry; truly he had no comprehension of what their teacher was thinking. The speech on which force powers were prized for assassins was familiar; he had already learned the basics of force stealth and was greatly looking forward to force cloak. At the teacher's pause, he almost asked if it was possible to make it look as though one was much bigger and more powerful in the force, if such displays of intimidation could be used, but fear held his tongue firmly in check, not willing to risk being tortured for any other reason. When told to meditate, Nirulve had no idea what to do. He had never learned such a concept, the closest he had ever come to meditation was on a rainy, jungle world of the ancient Sith, where a Crusador named Drakus had taught him the basics of shielding his mind. Quietly, he missed that teacher; they had been calm, measured, and in some respects understandable.

He was startled out of his thoughts at the approach of the strange, armored acolyte who had also been tortured. He had looked at the tiny creature and made some sort of noise. Nirulve intially thought it might have been friendly, but was far too scared to return any sort of answer, instead throwing his eyes to a particularly dull patch of the ground below him, downcast and miserable. If this was a friend, he didn't know them and he didn't want to incur any more wrath or judgement. Silence then seemed best, not to cause any disturbance or distraction. He dared not respond to this mysterious man.

Returning to the task at hand, he sat down noiselessly, and drew his knees close to his chest, burying his head in them, hiding himself from the world. He painfully recalled the last time he had been instructed on the process of hiding ones signature in the force. His instructor that day, a more volatile and angry being than the Mon Calamari in front of him today, had given him very little to work with, other than 'Bury your presence'. At the time he had managed to do so out of sheer fear, his terror allowing his mind to turn inward. This... building process, the imagery of the ocean, was very alien to him. He imagined himself as a river easily enough, and imagined he was surrounded by an ocean. Then he imagined quarantining himself off, but after a few seconds of this mental exercise he knew that he had achieved absolutely nothing in terms of the force. His signature was as much there as it always was. How then, could he approach this? He was dimly aware of how the teacher was doing it, feeling his presence and then a connection severed. After a few seconds of feeling it, he began to panic wildly. It wasn't working, what was he doing wrong, oh god-

Within his mind he left out a howl of frustration, and murdered his own presence in the force, instinctively. It took very little effort; he worked on hiding himself in it on an extremely regular basis after all, convinced that it helped him evade even those who were not force sensitive. A flash of insight suddenly provided the little Lannik with what he needed to understand the metaphor. The river was just his thread, his connection to the force. The ocean was just the entangling of those threads. He had to cut his. Focusing on the flow between him and all those in the room, he began to see exactly how excellent the river analogy was; cutting it was impossible, instead to hide oneself required constant effort. With a moment of terror he realized what sort of mistake he had been making within in his own application of this for years; he cut himself off but did not continue the work after the fact, meaning in minutes to hours he would be back to visible. How foolish he had been, how ridiculous he felt. With this flash of understanding came a new challenge to Nirulve; how to best barricade this hypothetical river? He tried at first using small pebbles, but they were washed away instantly, his mind unable to maintain them.

How then could he manage this? It suddenly floated across his mind, back ten years ago, in his only battle against the Jedi. The training room. The amorphous floor, the solid that molded itself so easily, so efficiently. It had been challenging to manipulate, but he remembered how, and that ability suddenly served him well, the strange floor now devouring his entire river and hiding it beneath the ocean, cutting off all angles. His shoulder began to ache in protest, as he had collapsed into the fetal position without noticing. He didn't care though, he was unusually thrilled with his progress with stealth, his fear only a dull ache in the back of his mind now.

 

[RedRaine]

(Sorry forgot to post)

She watched the Mon Calamari interested force stealth would probably be one of the most important skills for an assassin at least in her opinion force wise. She got down on her knees and began to imagine the river and the ocean to which it was connected as the teacher instructed the next part sounded simple enough, she just had to place rocks inside the river to cut off the flow. She began to place the rocks many large ones then tiny ones for cracks. She hoped that her presence in the force was gone as she had stopped the flow from the river to thr ocean she hoped she hadn't taken to long and opened her eyes to look around.

 

[Bubák]

Avreet's presence reached out to the Acolytes, trying to feel how they have managed to hide their presences. Raslekx seemed to understand what the Mon Cal said, his presence becoming less and less sensible. Thamis, however, seemed to be having difficulties with the technique, so Avreet rose from his meditating stance and slowly walked towards the armoured humanoid. "You need to control the Force in your body better. It seems the Force flows through you like a raging river, you need to slow it down before trying to block it from the ocean. Take a deep breath and calm down, which will calm the raging waters of the Force." The Crusader calmly said with a hint of smirk, realizing how he compared the Force to water, which might look weird to the students. He did not care though, as it looked like majority of the class understood his words and allowed his guidance to help them with hiding their presences.

Nox seemed to be the most successful learner. Not only he hid his Force presence, the Noghri did it several times. Avreet was pleased with the Acolyte's initiative, but there was no need for him to waste his energy more than necessary. Pacing to the student, the Mon Calamari stopped as he stood in front of the standing Noghri. "You did very good, Acolyte. Do you feel comfortable when standing, though? Your body needs to feel relaxed so you could open your mind to the Force properly." With a smile, he looked over the other students, the human and the Lannik. While Trinaty had succeeded in her task, or so it seemed, Nirulve visibly struggled. The Mon Cal was about to go to him and offer help, but then he felt the Lannik also managed to hide his Force presence. Four students out of five succeeded without his help, and that was a sign Avreet's explanantion could be understood.

"Very well, Acolytes," said the amphibian as he returned to his original place and knelt down, "Now it's time to learn how to alter your Force signature. Again, focus on the Force flowing through you. It is polluted by the Dark Side. which makes you all instantly recognizable as Force sensitives versed in the dark arts. If a Jedi feels your signature as it is, it gives them a reason to attack you. In order to appear as a non-Force sensitive, hide your siganture. To give off a signature of a Jedi, alter it. How? By cleaning up the polluted river of your Force flow. To do that, you have to think positively and feel inner peace. Let your positive emotions and peace purge all the darkness from your rivers, slowly making it clean as a signature of a neutral Force user. If you go further, you will give a signature of a Jedi."

Once again, Avreet paused and demonstrated. The Acolytes would be able to feel the Crusader's signature, somewhat dark grey, as it changed to grey and untimately to white with all the darkness lifted from it, the signature shining with purity. "The river will not return to it's original state until you start using your passion to give you power, or allow your emotions to break the fragile illusion of peace. Remember though, Master level opponents or higher might be able to see through your disguise if they tried. If you just walk past them, they shouldn't notice you. You may consider hiding your siganture, which is done by, how to say it, getting rid of your river. The ocean of the Force fills you with another flow, but any being has that. You can be felt through the Force, but you give off no signature at all."

The bulbous orange eyes swiveled around, staring at the students, "Any questions? If not, you can start altering and hiding your signatures."

 

[Omnis]

"Thank you, Crusader." Nox replied to Avreet. He bowed his head once. "My clan taught me precise control of the physical body. The Ulrh'adak teach such discipline that the soldiers of the clan may overcome the greatest of discomforts when centering themselves. We often found reason to meditate when crouched in a foxhole during wartime or whilst waiting for a target to appear as we lay upon a thin support beam overhead. Standing is as natural to me now as breathing." He did not know if Avreet knew of the Ulrh'adak. They were a secret clan of Noghri, directly in service to the Sith of the Empire. They were the soldiers, assassins, and mercenaries used as extreme shock troops and game changers of any engagement. Their dukha was a ship, not a building on the homeworld. But very few people really knew of their existence. The Ulrh'adak almost always assumed new identities with each assignment, usually donning the colors of another existing faction in the Empire to protect their true affiliation. Avreet was just a Crusader, so Nox knew it wasn't likely, but it was still possible Avreet knew of his clan. If he did, it would probably be by having taken part in a mission with one of his clan mates once.

He exhaled slowly as he began to meditate again, reflecting on Avreet's latest lesson. In this, the soldier needed no direction from the other students. He dwelt inwards from the start, knowing exactly where to look for the means to clean his signature of the darkness. Nox knew his better qualities, as defined by the Jedi and virtuous people of the universe. His devotion to his family, his pride in his heritage, and his loyalty to those that mattered to him. He was proud of these things. He lingered there, imagining that these emotions were trailing new water into his river of the Force until it had replaced all else. He stayed away from the darkness, the killer instinct, the ruthlessness, the coldness. Thoughts of his clan warmed his river, making it flow easier than before. Physically, his breathing slowed even more. The cloaked shoulders slumped further, more relaxed than before.

For the first time in a very long time, the hooded figure did not look like an omen of death. The set of his shoulders did not betray a frightening potential of reflex, ready to send forth strong arms in the purpose of delivering death. The bent of his neck was less than hostile. His hands were not slightly curled, prepared to close into a fist or wrap around the hilt of a weapon. Though his outfit spoke of a career killer, his posture argued peace.

There was a chance that Avreet was seeing a window into a different life for Nox. One where he had walked a different path and found different masters. No doubt the Crusader would be capable of seeing the potential there. As it stood, they were probably all lucky that Death's Figment had found his way to the Sith. Including Nox. Such extreme potential in the death dealing arts belonged with the destiny of a Sith, not a Jedi.

Once again, upon finishing the technique, Nox spiraled outwards slowly with his senses in order to see how the others were coming along. He took special interest in Thamis, who had struggled before.

 

[Rector_Ras]

Raslekx got to thinking as soon as the crusader had said to use emotion to do it. Raslekx had made a habbit of only letting any emotion come out if it was in dire need. If he could do something without them he would. So again he asked a quistion. " Is there a way to do this without useing emotions? I tend to try and preserve them for important situations." He could feel one student already started and he cursed in his head for asking something and not just letting a small amount out to get the job done.

(sorry for shortness)