[center]~| The Jedi Temple, Day 1 12:02 GST (thirty minutes after the Sacking started)|~
~|Lord Jewel Namore and Ven’ren Dijktra|~[/center]

Lord Jewel Namore cut an imposing figure in her battle armor, silhouetted against the blazing orange Coruscanti sky. Currently, she was gracing a landing pad in the Jedi temple with that figure. This was the pad where all the Jedi were being brought. The ones that were captured for Darth Nyiss. Jewel’s task was to keep the shuttles and the pad secure. Though hardly the most glamorous of tasks for a Sith Lord, it was, nonetheless, very important. With the Jedi penchant for misguided heroics, she was fairly sure she would have the chance to kill or capture at least one Jedi personally, all without having to spend a second hunting them down. Ven’ren, one of her Apprentices, was there to assist her, though she had more brought him along to expose him to victory than actually fight. After all, she was quite capable on her own.

Ven'ren was pacing, clearly distraught. His boots made a clicking on the metal floors. Other people's feelings reached into his mind, and he shook his head to get rid of them. The battle was near enough for him to notice, or at least its effect was strong enough for him to notice. There were no specifics, only the sense like a sound you can barely hear, but still clearly enough there make it impossible to ignore it. It had been like that for nearly half an hour, and Ven had spent most of that time pacing around, first on the ship and then on the landing pad. He shakes his head again and turns to his master. 

“Do you think they will be quiet soon?” He asks in a conversational manner, not sounding nearly as restless as he clearly was. 

Jewel looked at her Apprentice. He was an odd one, she knew, and he had his uses, but that didn’t stop him being annoying. Especially when he forgot to address her appropriately. Anger rose in her breast at that little slip of his, but she suppressed it. In this environment, unleashing her rage might not only go to far, but risk her safety. If she was spent and a Jedi arrived trying to play hero, it would be decidedly embarrassing. That kind of embarrassment was much worse than enduring a minor slight from Ven’ren.

“It won't be long now.” She said, vicious eagerness in her voice. “The Jedi, for all their bluster, are not as strong as they believe. Our victory is at hand. Then there will be quiet.” She was only half addressing Ven’ren at that point. This was just too good a victory, and she couldn’t help but be swept up in it.

“Yes, my Lord.” the apprentice answered, even though his master only partly spoke to him, and even bowed, as if to make up for his previous mistake. He had felt the flicker of her anger, after all, in the midst of everything else. He rose slowly and stood for a moment, listening to something apparently only heard in his own brain. Then shook his head again and continued pacing. Since they had landed, the emotions were only getting stronger. Now, he could pick out the specifics. The fear and the death and certain force auras flickering and disappearing. His state of mind was getting worse, not knowing if he should make sense of what he was feeling through the force, or try to block it out entirely.

“My Lord, can you hear it? Can you hear the death?” He asked again, mostly curious. It was so loud to him now, and he wondered if not Jewel felt is as he did, but simply didn’t let it bother her. He made a quiet humming noise, as if to mimic the ‘sound’ of picking up deaths through the force. 

“Its glorious, is it not.” Jewel stated, knowing full well that Ven’ren probably didn’t think so. “I can feel so many of our hated foes flickering out of existence.” Of course there were Sith dying too, and Jewel could feel their passing, but they were not [i]her[/i] Sith, and so she did not really care about them. “But do not revel in it too much.” She said, suddenly whipping around towards her apprentice, a teaching tone in her voice. “It is the reward of victory, to feel the passing of your foe. But it is an end to conflict, and conflict strengthens a Sith. Be angry that your chance to improve yourself is being taken from you. Rage at your foe for his final spiteful act. Use that rage to overcome your next enemy. If you must, use it to create a new enemy. It is no use to proclaim yourself superior without proving it, and defeating your enemy is the only way to prove your superiority.” Just because this was a war zone didn’t mean it wasn’t a good place to teach. If anything, it was the best place to teach.

Ven’ren stopped when his master addressed him directly, and listened with his head slightly tilted. Responding with another “Yes, my Lord.” and bow when she was finished. 

“I have so far only had the opportunity to measure my strength against other Sith. I will remember.”  He would not have anything against listening to more of his master’s teachings, mostly because listening to actual words distracted him from the constant flow of other people's emotions. He did once go to the edge of the landing pad and looked down into the city, but was faced with a surprisingly strong desire to jump down there. He had instead started walking in small circles in the middle. He welcomed the chance to speak to his master instead. “I see why this victory is not mine to revel in, since I am not part of the battle and victory is not mine. But should we, even as Sith, grieve the end of conflict even when we are victorious?” He has drawn himself together as he speaks, tilting his head in a way that allows him to look up at her when asking.

“Yes.” Jewel stated simply, before elaborating. She was not bothered by her Apprentices strange path across the landing pad. It left him in a poor position to defend himself should a Jedi burst in and charge them, but if he was struck down by a Jedi here, he probably wasn’t worth saving anyway. “When not actively engaged in conflict, or preparing for conflict, you will stagnate. Like the Jedi.” Her fingers tightened their grip on her Lightsaber then, both at the thought of the Jedi and their ridiculous peace loving ways and at the lack of something in front of her to kill. “You may think the safety at the end of a conflict is a good thing. It is not. When you are safe, you are lazy. You will never acquire power unless you reach out and take it yourself… Tell me Ven’ren. When we force the Republic to capitulate, what will be your conflict?”

“For me, there will always be conflict.” He said before stopping to think of a more proper answer. “This is the first I have been directly involved in this war. Its end will not mean safety. There is no safety for Sith. I will still seek revenge for Tereth. That will give me enemies. It will always continue.” He tried to concentrate on that thought. On Tereth’s face when they had first met on Kaas. On the place itself, trying to push out the remnants of memories telling him he was currently standing on his home planet. “We are never safe, we always fight, to rise or to survive.” He trailed off on the last bit as he started to shake his head again, but this time it seemed to have helped, and when he continued he seemed perfectly calm, showing no further sign of restlessness. “I will not be lazy, master, for even when no threat faces me immediately, one will soon and one must be prepared. Being careless is death. Feeling safe is death.” He he had given an acceptable answer and looked across the city, grateful that the memories and emotions had, for the moment, tired of pulling at him.