Ask The Art of Bloody Knuckles

Kadriye Yalaz

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Two ships, two options.

The first one was the freedom to carve out her own path. She could go wherever she wanted, be whatever she wanted, and do whatever she wanted. Perhaps, even, she could go and return to the faraway planet she called home. But for someone who'd spent all of her life having choices made for her, the choice was scarier than it was tempting. How would she find a job? What other skills did she even have? Kadriye could punch and intimidate—and she was good at it!—but what if she wanted to do something else? Who would she fall back on if she got in trouble?

Ironically, the Sith seemed like the safer option despite Vahliri's warnings of challenges and hardships. She would be walking into something foreign, but at least she knew what to expect. ...kind of. And she couldn't deny that the promise of those hardships turning into power wasn't tempting.

"The Sith," she answered shortly after. "I want you to teach me."

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Vahliri offered no additional words of encouragement to Kadriye, nor did she attempt to sway the Orcolan in one direction or the other. Both options had their merits and downsides, and the choice - perhaps the first in a lifetime - was entirely hers to make. The simple truth was that the Sith were plagued with individuals wishy-washy in their convictions, barely worthy of the name. The half-Annfyn had little tolerance for it, and would only opt to train someone with their eyes wide open to the difficulties and challenges ahead of them.

She stood, with arms folded over her chest, until Kadriye gave her answer. Vahliri couldn’t help the small smile that brushed her features just then, the words ringing loud within her sensitive ears. Perhaps the Orcolan knew what she was getting herself into. Perhaps she didn’t. But the first steps had been taken.

“Very well,” She said with a smile, turning on her heel. “Then let's go, Kadriye. We have quite a bit of work ahead of us.” With that, Vahliri turned on a heel and began to ascend the chrome-plated ramp of her ship - vanishing into the interior of the yacht.

Almost at once, Kadriye would be struck by the lavishly-decorated interior of the Starblossom-class - from the Induparan-influenced decorations that adorned shelves and hung from walls, to the expensive materials used for the flooring and cabin walls. It was a vessel meant to be lived out of, rather than as a mere means of transportation. With a jut of her chin, the half-Annfyn began to grant Kadriye a quick tour of the deck - guiding her through each room and cabin.

She would clearly see several of Vahliri’s own belongings scattered around the ship - including a large photograph of Cairo, Altair, Vahliri and Ashla that hung from a wall in the common room. Though the Orcolan wouldn’t recognize the others, she would undoubtedly recognize a slightly younger version of the woman standing before her now. It was easily one of the half-Annfyn's happiest memories, and a photo she always like to keep close.

As they concluded their tour, Vahliri glanced back to Kadriye. “Of course, you have free reign of the ship and everything. You can have your pick of room and are free to use everything." She then glanced over the Orcolan’s shoulder and further down the wall. “You’ll be able to see to your back in the medbay.” There was a droid already stationed in the room, able to assist Kadriye if she needed it.

“Meet me in the gallery when you're done.”

With that, Vahliri turned on a heel. The half-Annfyn began through flight off the planet and into hyperspace before making her way towards the gallery as intended. With a long flight ahead of them, the half-Annfyn opted to start whipping up something to eat. Or more accurately, heating something up - as her own cooking skills left something to be desired.


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Kadriye Yalaz

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Kadriye followed Vahliri up the ramp and onto her ship, her eyes visibly widening more and more as she took in the lavishness of the spaceship. She'd seen finely dressed people before—the rich loved violent sport—but she'd never been in a place that looked just as wealthy.

For the entire tour, Kadriye followed in stunned silence and was extremely careful not to touch anything. She couldn't imagine what might happen if she bumped into something and broke one of the Annfyn's various decorations. Dead meat, she decided.

"Are- are you sure?" It seemed awfully generous of the tiny woman to allow her full access to everything and to allow her to pick whichever free room she wanted. Of course, there were only two rooms for her to choose from, but even such a small choice felt like a lot for the girl. But, seconds later, Kad figured if Vahliri had been forthcoming so far she had no reason to stop now. "Thank you."

Vahliri walked off, so Kadriye looked back and forth between the two available rooms, chose one at random to throw her little bag of belongings in, then headed back to the medbay. There she pretty much ignored the droid in favor of tending to her own wounds. She used a warm, damp rag to gently wash the dried blood off her knuckles and back first. The Orcolan almost called it good after that, but the droid piped up to suggest she apply a healing bacta salve to speed up the process. Kad almost declined it, but ended up allowing the droid to apply it in the end.

"Do you cook?" Kad asked when she rejoined Vahliri, gesturing to her food and the microwave.

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“Don’t mention it,” Vahliri said with a smile, offering Kadriye a small nod in response to her gratitude. Her tone and expression were entirely genuine - devoid of any malicious intent. For everything the Orcolan had suffered, the half-Annfyn wanted Kadriye to have something to call her own. And she wanted the woman to see exactly the heights she could ascend to, should she commit herself fully to the path. The road was bitter, but the payoff could be so, so sweet.

While Kadriye patched herself up, Vahliri popped a container in the microwave and set a timer - proceeding to kick back for a few minutes after that. The half-Annfyn had already charted their course accordingly, knowing full-well the first destination she had in mind for her new apprentice. But there would be hours to burn before they arrived.

By the time Kadriye returned into the gallery, the half-Annfyn was just rising from her seat to addressing a beeping microwave. "Medbay did wonders," She jutted a chin to the Orcolan's patched up injuries. When faced with the question, she couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Not very well,” She glanced back over her shoulder, shrugging a bit. Despite her love of food itself, Vahliri had exceptionally little experience cooking herself. The few things she’d managed to do herself had been by the skin of her teeth and by following a recipe to the letter. “But I can warm something up in the microwave like a pro,”

As if on que, Vahliri pulled out a container of warmed Induparan curry with a side of rice. It wasn’t even a comparison to the stuff she could get back home or that her mother could whip up, but it was better than nothing. She split the portion onto two plates and promptly set one down in front of Kadriye along with a fork.

“Dig in,” She picked up her own fork at that.

A few moments of silence would pass - allowing both of them to eat up a bit before Vahliri finally glanced back up to address Kadriye. She washed down her latest bite with a sip of water before waving her hand a bit. “Tell me what you know of your gift.” It was important to understand Kadriye’s own philosophy and build from there. The half-Annfyn had a basic understanding of Orcolan customs, and knew that - depending on how much exposure the girl had - it would prove to be something of a hiccup.


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Kadriye Yalaz

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Kadriye awkwardly sat down across from Vahliri in a chair that was much too short for her. Her knees were pointed up at a forty-five-degree angle and pressed against the edge of the table, but she couldn't push her chair back any further. The Orcolan girl ate in that position, trying her best to use the tiny fork to shovel food into her mouth. She was absolutely starving, and she all but inhaled the curry in front of her. Whatever hesitant, unsure passenger she'd been before, it had melted away in the presence of food.

"I uh-" Kadriye started to talk, then decided to swallow her food first before continuing. "Just what my parents told me 'bout it, and what I've heard the other fighters say 'bout it," she answered. "I know it can make me punch really...really hard, but I haven't been able to get any of the floaty stuff to work for me."

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Vahliri couldn’t help but flash Kadriye a small smile, watching as the Orcolan girl began to wolf down the food placed before her. It certainly wasn’t the best - and was leagues from the authentic, homemade cuisine that the half-Annfyn was raised on - but it was food all the same. She didn’t wait long to begin digging into her own bowl, happily munching down the curry and rice - alternating small sips from a glass of water and taking bites.

It wasn’t until Kadriye spoke that the half-Annfyn began to slow down, listening carefully to what the girl had to say. It was important to understand what foundation had been laid - if any at all - around the Force, as it would determine her approach.

“What you have,” She began, slowly setting down her fork. The bowl wasn’t quite empty yet, though she planned to return to it. “Is called the Force. It is a power - a living thing, in its own way - that exists all around it. It permeates everything, even if only a select few are capable of tapping into it. You are one of those people.” Vahliri paused for a moment, amber eyes flicking over to the pitch of water beside her. With only the faintest movement of her fingers, the half-Annfyn lifted the pitcher and an empty cup from across the table, levitating it across and pouring for Kadriye.

“And the floaty stuff is only the tip of what you are truly capable of.” The half-Annfyn picked up her fork once again after that, slowly beginning to eat. “There are many who would have to believe that your gifts ought to be limited, in their application. The Jedi, even the Guçlu,” She said with a glance up. Her knowledge of Orcolan culture was limited, though their philosophy of the Force was something she’d studied extensively. “But these are lies. Designed to keep you from what you are truly capable of. Of what the Sith can offer you.”

She tilted her head a bit, “The moment you killed Horo. That feeling in the center of your chest - the anger that drove you, the power behind your blow and the freedom that came afterwards. All of it makes you stronger. Your raw, primal emotions, and the passion behind them. They will allow you to rise above people like Horo and all the others, and grant you the power to do whatever you please.”

“Where we are going now will test you to your very limits. And you will be stronger by the time you leave,”
She paused for a moment, staring right back at Kadriye. “Or you will not leave.”

The pair would only be granted a few more moments within the gallery to finish their meal, before a series of chirps began to emanate from the cockpit. Their destination was close at hand.


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Kadriye Yalaz

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The Force. She'd heard it called that before. It was the Galactic Basic world for güç, and what Vahliri said rang a bell - somewhat. The last time she'd visited her homeworld with her parents, they'd ventured out of the city and gone to visit a shrine. She'd spoken to some Guçlu masters then, too, but only briefly. They had talked about how güç was in everything - and everyone - but only a few could harness its blessing.

Kad watched as the tiny woman brought over the pitcher and poured her a cup, never even touching the container. She felt a pang of jealousy in her chest watching it. Not quite jealous of Vahliri, but jealous of the fact that she was able to do that with such ease. She didn't even have to get up!

Kad nodded as Vahliri spoke, but didn't respond quite yet. She was a bit lost in her own thoughts, wondering what sort of challenges might lie ahead for her.

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laurence-provost-volcanicdesertconcept-fog.jpg

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Over an hour passed before Vahliri and Kadriye arrived at their destination, and the half-Annfyn took that time to further educate her new apprentice on the basics. A number of meditation techniques and drills were gone over, which the half-Orcolan would be expected to conduct on a daily basis. By the time they both made their way to the cockpit, the blueish blur of stars began to slow, as the Pearl Empress slipped out of Hyperspace. In the blink of an eye, the horizon was suddenly dominated by the desolate, volcanic surface of Prakith that stretched out across the viewport window.

Once a bastion of the ancient Sith, Prakith had since been colonized and absorbed into the New Republic - securely positioned within the Deep Core. All the same, it was a world that was seldom thought of or visited, save for the few-hundred-thousand that called it home. Their arrival wasn’t one likely to draw attention, and Vahliri had no intention of making her presence on the world known. It was here that Kadriye would begin - and perhaps end - her training.

The moment the Pearl Empress began its descent into low orbit, Kadriye and Vahliri would both begin to feel a shift deep within the Force. Even to the untrained, the presence of the Dark Side was palpable all across Prakith, its Nexus having long-ago been twisted and corrupted by Andeddu and his successors. It manifested as a weight upon Kadriye’s chest, and the subtle whispers that began to echo in her mind. Barely audible but ever present, they promised of everything Kadriye could become and the true extent of her power. They surfaced flashes of the half-Orcolan’s parents, and spoke with the voice of Horo in the midst of his rage.

It would fill the half-Orcolan with dread and turn her stomach.. And yet there was an allure to it. A power that swam just beneath the surface that just begged the girl to reach out and claim it for herself.

Vahliri began to guide the yacht down to the surface - punching beneath the volcanic clouds and smoke. Her trajectory took them towards the northernmost continent of the planet, there tectonic activity was most pronounced, and where the dark silhouette of Andeddu’s fortress loomed in the distance - five, obsidian spires that stretched up into the sky, like the fingers of a hand attempting to grasp the clouds.

“Welcome to Prakith, apprentice,” Vahliri finally spoke as the yacht touched down with the surface, prompting the half-Annfyn back to her feet. “Once, an ancient world of the Sith. And it is here we will begin.” She jutted her chin back towards the room where the half-Orcolan had taken up residence. “Bring your gloves and that knife. Where we’re going, you will need it.” With that, Vahliri began to make her descent down the ramp of her ship - stepping down onto the volcanic plains.


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