Xid let his shock gradually fade from his expression. His jawline closed his mouth tightly and head twisted back around, his eyes returned to the fight. This was the worse place to have the fight continue as by the end of it, the medical bay would likely be shattered and in ruins after Sish was beaten or Shiri was taken. Xid visibly shuddered at the latter thought. He couldn’t think like that at all, his mind pushed the negativity from his focus before it had a chance to consider that it could happen. Tolun Fi and Lea might not be happy with him over this whole affair, but his anxiety over the upcoming argument was quickly smashed down when he considered the alternative. If he hadn’t, Shiri would’ve been given to a machine whose basic designed was to maim, cripple or worse to his victim. At least if Sish’s combat with Xid during Coruscant was any hint to his sadistic programming.

The younger knight shuddered under Andri’s arms still wrapped about his shoulders. Her grip keeping him in place thanks to aid from his aching side, the pain burning up his side and revealed his low pain threshold. His teeth gritted to prevent a hiss in the other Sith’s presence, not willing to show weakness, while his eyes refused to look away. Please, Alat, keep Sish from taking her. He feel the other Sith, her voice gravelly and smooth, as she pulled closer. The sensation of her eyes slipped past him and observed the sight, announcing her patience while she lingered near the doorway. After a moment or two, her voice hissed out again toward Sish this time. She made clear her impatience and requested he not drag his ‘play’ out too long.

At the disgusting phrasing of how Sish’s actions, Xid’s gaze broke from the scene. His blonde hair ruffled in his actions as he whipped it about to glare briefly at the speaker and seeing her for the first time. For some reason he wasn’t surprised to discover the owner was a Sluissi, another reptile like creature, watching the fight play out like a sporting event she was disinterested in. Unable to keep eye contact, Xid returned his focus to the fight.

His face paled slightly at seeing Shiri had moved past Sish and was in the lift, openly replacing the panel again. Shiri, no! His mind cried but his voice held in silence, unable to speak out loud. He knew what she did and right in front of the Sith as well. That meant there was little stopping them from targeting her, her skill too much of a risk to the Jedi escaping, causing her life to become that much more miserable. And there was nothing he could do to stop it because the damage had already been done.

So stressed by his situation, Xid barely acknowledge the force attack Andri sent Sish’s way while Shiri openly taunted him. Xid’s heart sank when Sish revealed Shiri had spliced the lift and his face paled at the consequences to come, the Sith Lord’s position backed into a wall. Sish worsened it when he replied in a low threat to Alat, hinting to severing limbs and likely putting Shiri through serious pain if they kept her away from him. Xid’s body tried to wiggle loose, ignoring the pain in his side, as he was kept out of the fight. Helplessness washed over him and Xid couldn’t handle it well, his hatred budding thanks to his stress. Another presence arrived on the scene and it was one he knew well. Koren. The older knight had stepped into the room and nudged Sish, just when the Trandoshan went for a force choke on Shiri. Another taunt was issued though Xid felt it would affect him as much as the last few.

“Thank you Koren, but I don’t think the taunts are working. We need to do something more. Someone needs to distract him while another goes in and tries to cripple a tendon, or something. Limiting his mobility physically might cause him to fall back without Shiri.” Xid stated quietly, his eyes looked from Koren to Andri for a moment. Inside, for a second, he had considered elbowing Andri in the gut and darting forward if neither one came up a plan and quick.

Zanna was only slightly aware of Jayda's troubles, given the Zabrak's pause before finally following her. She was too unnerved by the feeling of the Darkside in that room to care much, however, and simply kept walking. Her mind went over and over what could have left such a mark in the Force, without anyone noticing their arrival and exit. The answers she kept coming up with were...less than pleasant. There's an unknown on this ship. I hate dealing with unknowns. She thought, fists clenching slightly in frustration. She needed access to a lab. Then at least, she could start working with her alchemy to help protect herself, and start forcing the prisoners to acknowledge their emotions. Whether they wanted too or not. The only lab on the ship belongs to Darth Nyiss. Which means I have to talk to her and ask her if I can use her lab. That was...an interesting proposition. Certainly not as unnerving as staying in that room and potentially meeting whatever had killed the last owner of her newest lightsaber, but she would have to be very careful. Darth's weren't known for their generosity.

Zanna was drawn from her musing by the newest Jedi prisoner making another remark. Zanna merely gave a cold smile. Jokes like that would only last so long.

Alat turned to the side and caught Shiri in mid flight on his right side and sent a wave of force roiling from his skin to disrupt the choke. The cold metal eyes looked down at Shiri as a dead whisper came through the mask. “Tell Xid I’m sorry. So Sorry.” There was almost regret in his voice. But could it really be regret? With that he set Shiri on her feet again.

There was no warning. A sickening wave of pure malice rolled off of Alat, a side effect of what he was about to do. A barrage of force pushes rained on Sish. The force leap carried Alat through a full ariel over Sish his right hand fast as a snake as Alat poured on force speed of his own and tapped the back of Sish’s head. It was light and would not do any harm but the moment of contact was an eternity for Sish and Alat. A ripple went through the force as Alat used something that had been forbidden to him for years and for good reason. The second ripple wasn’t an emotion but it was a feeling of the dark side that rippled off of Alat..and it was strong.

Alat knew exactly what he was looking for. A weakness and he found it as the tendrils of his ice cold mind drilled through Sish’s subconsciousness. Hello? Who are you beautiful? It was only a moment in air that Alat drug through Sish’s mind but it was enough as he scooped out the knowledge he wanted and landed in a tight roll that carried him well out of lightsaber range, however it left Shiri vulnerable. Although Alat doubted Sish would be doing too much too soon after Alat’s Knowledge Drain. The dark side still hung like a cloak around Alat as he knelt with breathing heavily as he faced the wall of the med bay a ways off from the fight. Trying to bring himself back into balance. A calculated risk to be sure. It was unfortunate that it had been in front of another sith, but it would draw all eyes off of Xid and the others. Such a potent display of Dark Side powers was not going to go unnoticed. Alat wouldn’t be surprised if others felt the use either. It had been years since he’d tapped into that part of his force talents. It had been like breaking a dam.

The leader felt his hand gripped by an invisible force, the sensation tightened and held it in place. His fingers balled up rightly while he gritted his teeth. His arm trying to wretch his fist out of whatever held it and into Karlie’s thin, weak middle. He had expected to feel the soft underbelly before the man crumbled, not his movement being stopped. A voice, calm and mellow, spoke within his head. It tried to coax him to giving in as his fist loosened slightly, only acknowledge the source. The man’s head whipped about to the Jedi with a deep scrowl and for the first time, one of them could spot the faded folds on the eyelids revealing he wasn’t affected by the little mind trick. After all he was part Epicanthix.

“Jedi, you better release me or things get complicated.” He sneered, knowing fully well that Janglor wasn’t going to be happy. His emotions stirring in his core while he glared at the Herglic getting into his way before the human Jedi, a cloaked figure, waved him hand and said something odd. Again, the leader’s tightened in suspicion over the Jedi’s words, not understanding the hidden message, as he noted his companion’s reaction to the persuasion.

The other two had little defense against the Jedi’s mind tricks. Their hands already releasing their blasters and fastening them back into place while a sort of glossed over expression entered their eyes. They looked content with disobeying Janglor which he knew they would later regret. The boss didn’t like being disobeyed as the man’s hand relaxed, knowing it was pointless to continue this fight. Not when it was several on one.

“Janglor doesn’t like his business being interfered with, even by Jedi.” The man stated before waiting until the Herglic’s force released him then gestured to his own companions to follow him away from the workplace.

Karlie had been holding his breath this whole time while the scene played out in silence. When the bastard aimed to punch him on departure, Karlie expecting to feel it ripple through his body and braced himself. His body half bend before the Jedi stopped it much to his inner horror. When the group had gone, Karlie broke out of Kennith's reach and looked past to where the thugs retreated then turned his anger on the Jedi. "You fools! Now Janglor will be expecting his payment again and this time, if I don't pay then consequences will result in my shop being burnt down! Just wonderful."

His hand wring tightly over each other in front of him as he twitched in place, his feet once more stepping back in front of his saviors to face them. His earlier fury ebbed finally as he noted the individuals. "I suppose it was lucky you came around either way. Come into my shop and I'll at least see if there's a way I can repay you. As well as learn what brings you to my neck of desert."

With that, he lead them in where he proceeded to play the good host while he listened.



Jayda had expected the dread to fade by now, her presence no longer lingering near the crime scene. Instead, it had merely gotten worse. It disturbed her greatly not to know the reason why it hadn't stopped as she hoped her worse assumptions hadn't occurred. She thought it was, at first, it was because of the killer onboard. It had made her unnerved and rattled at first, assuming something terrible was about to happen. Slowly, she started to realize it wasn’t likely stress over the mysterious killer onboard but something much worse. A premonition that Sish was in danger and it seemed for a while now, the sensation weak in her mind. Deep down it disgusted her to have an attachment, even being as weak as she had. Why did she concern the shit eating lizard would be behave himself with Jedi prisoners? At this rate he was going to get himself killed before she could exact her revenge. Abruptly she cursed softly in Ul’Zabrak, her unease got the better of her. She turned on heel, eyes darkened in fury, while she made her way towards the prisoner complex. The danger was likely over but she had to see for herself.

Spotting Zanna’s seem to follow, Jayda's head whipped back to snap at the Sith. “Keep the prisoners here for now. Something’s wrong and I suspect it's been happening in the prison complex. If my guess is correct, then the less Jedi the better.”

With that, she left Zanna behind hoping the Red Sith wouldn't follow.

Khan Sainen behaved as a Jedi and a Warrior should considering the circumstances he faced. Well, at least that's what the young Echani told himself, despite the fact that he'd failed in avoiding capture, despite the fact that he felt like a coward for abandoning his Master, even if he had been told to run. Though truth be told the thing that was making it most difficult of all to act as a prisoner of war should was that he wasn't being treated like he assumed a prisoner or war would be treated at all. He had yet to be beaten or tortured, although he assumed that would change shortly. In his childhood days the soldiers in his mother's retinue and those he hung around during inspections had loved to thrill and horrify the commander's son with endless and myriad stories of the tortures a captured soldier could expect when the enemies they faced were as ruthless as the Sith.

Well, those stories didn't seem nearly as amusing now.

To pass the time and keep himself occupied after he was lead off the transport ship he memorized how many steps he took and exactly which turns he and his guards made as they lead him away towards his unknown destination, nurturing the tiny hope in the back of his mind that he might sneak his way through if another transport arrived, hijack it and escape with other captives. It was a vain hope most likely, since the boy had no idea how to fly a ship and doubted he could fight through an entire prison's staff plus whatever Sith and other evils lurked within by himself. But it made him feel better and kept him occupied nonetheless, after all no matter the battlefield information was power. He occasionally looked around to examine the ship, its' size, make and model fairly new to him and therefore at least passingly interesting, but to his admittedly rather nonsensical disappointment there wasn't much of anything to really see. Khan didn't bother with interacting with or examining his guards. Their body language was smooth and businesslike, as blank and dull as the ship's hallways to his Echani mind. Out of the pair flanking him he could likely have knocked both out before they even thought to shoot him, but as his Master often said violence would make more problems than it solved. He would still be stuck in the same situation, only then his captors would be angry. So Khan kept quiet, observed, and walked onward.

Finally the situation changed for the better, or at least the less boring. They came upon another group of guards and two of what he presumed to be Sith, escorting an older man who was by his appearance and circumstances a Jedi Knight.

The most notable by her stance was the Zabrak. She carried herself...cautiously, warily, like a duelist circling an opponent in the ring. Khan could tell she was good, too. Light on her feet, movements reserved, economical and precise even out of combat like this. Khan found his fists itching slightly with the near-instinctive drive to test her in combat, get a full read of her abilities for himself and learn more about his captors at the same time. But...no. Now was not the time, his Master and his mother both would council patience, restraint. Still, another time he would have to see about it.

What he presumed to be an actual Sith came next in his awareness. It might have been that he was too inexperienced at reading such a creature, but without the exchange of combat to reveal it to him he couldn't get a read on her, which bothered him more than he'd like to admit. Instead he switched his attention to the final newcomer of note.

The Knight was...a strange one. His body was bruised, beaten and worse, Khan could tell by the way he carried himself slightly tenderly, his body subconsciously trying to avoid triggering inevitable physical pains. But the sagging crush of true despair was missing from his stance, he held himself brightly, not like someone who was suffering from obvious effects of prolonged torture. He recognized Khan for what he was as well, and acknowledged him with his face as well as his stance.

"You know what they call five Sith piled on top of a lightsaber?" Denso suddenly asked the Echani, breaking their silence with a joke. "A Sith-Kabob."

"S-snrk!~"

The joke was so unexpected, so out of place that despite years of discipline and their grim surroundings that the young Echani couldn't help but laugh. It started out as a choked off sort of thing but then bubbled up into hysterical giggling of the sort he'd normally have considered himself a little too old for if he could control himself. But before he knew it it had gripped him in full on paroxysms of laughter to the point where even when one of his guards smacked him across the back of the head he could still barely choke them back down.

It had felt good to laugh, better than he would've thought possible. If they both escaped alive, or at least got clear of these guards, Khan would have to thank the older man for that.

Before he could do anything much else, the Zabrak stopped for a moment, body quivering with an odd sort of tension before rushing to check on something Khan didn't quite get and insisting the Sith stay here with himself and the old man much to his disappointment.

With that odd bit of strangeness done Khan addressed both the older Jedi and the Sith, deferring to his seniors even in these bizarre and trying circumstances:

"So, what happens now? I expect we're going to be tortured?"

Andri watched the scene in concern, her brow furrowed as the Kel Dor fought against the Trandoshan Sith. She wasn’t a fighter, to be honest – her offensive skills were lacking and what she did know was more suited to be used against multiple opponents or in a battle of attrition. The Epicanthix was a much better talker than she was a fighter; that was why she had spent the last fifteen years on diplomatic missions as an ambassador for peaceful negotiations. Certainly, the black haired woman had seen conflict and combat - they were in a time of war, it was kind of hard to avoid fighting at some point - but she had been lucky enough to avoid actually aggressive conflict beyond protection detail for politicians and the like. Her lack of combat skills had never truly been an issue before now.

Andri knew how to be honest with herself; she was sorely underpowered to help in a fight against a Sith of this calibre. The only ‘offensive’ ability she knew, beyond the basics that all younglings and padawans are trained in, was Force Stun. The last time she tried that, the Sith barely even flinched.

When Xid spoke, his voice low enough to avoid the notice of the two Sith in the room, Andri’s mind whirled. But what could she do? The Epicanthix had literally just admitted to herself that she was not a fighter; she was support at best. The black haired woman chewed on her lip slightly, still frowning slightly as she studied the scene. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what was going on beyond the Trandoshan had tried to take the Twi’lek, and the others had tried to stop him. It had been an automatic reaction for her to jump in and help the other Jedi - one that seemed to be turning into a lot of trouble.

The lizard-man certainly didn’t seem like he was going to stop trying to take the girl, just because the Jedi protested. Is that not what the Sith brought them here? To test and torture?

Andri glanced down at Xid again, and released him. It wasn’t her place to restrain him from helping whichever way he could, even if the conversation the pair had before weighed in her mind. If he died, what were they to do? But the anxiety on his face was obvious to her, as she was so close to him, and she couldn’t begrudge him the chance to help save his friend however he could.

“I’m not sure how I can help, to be honest.” She murmured to him. “I’ve not exactly trained as a fighter.”

Any response he may have given her was washed away by the sudden wave of the Dark Side emanating from the Kel Dor as he leapt over the Trandoshan. Andri’s mind reeled back, her jaw dropping slightly as he attacked, before some instinct had her hand rising as the Sith made to react in kind.

A Force Stun left her, focusing on the Trandoshan as she weighed whatever strength in the Force she had behind it. Hopefully it would be enough to stop him from slicing the Kel Dor in two, and the others could take advantage of any distraction she caused. At this point, the Epicanthix would be happy if he left without killing or permanently maiming somebody - let the Sith take the Twi’lek if he really desired, as long as he brought her back.

She could think about the Kel Dor’s Dark Side use later.

Fa-Val-Kuul was aboard a civilian freighter currently filled above the recommended capacity with refugees, mostly from Balmorra. Technically, she was on leave, but thanks to her squad leader, Vebra, she was not expecting much R&R this time around. Of course, she did not have to join him, but the case he had made was just a bit too strong to refuse. She hoped he was correct, because this whole trip aboard an overcrowded rustbucket of a ship had really begun to cause her patience to wear thin.

Suddenly, Fa heard a soft beep from one of the pouches on her belt. She and her squad leader were trying to remain low-profile, so her armor was safely locked away with most of her weapons, apart from her sonic blaster. She wore only a tool belt, from which she pulled her datapad and checked the message from Vebra. He needed to meet her in private, which could actually be somewhat difficult aboard this ship. Luckily, most of the refugees congregated in either their rooms, or the common area, where she was currently waiting. He wanted her to go one of the maintenance corridors, so she calmly put away the datapad and headed towards her bunk before cutting left down a different hall, taking the long way around to Vebra.

Vebra glanced back and forth across the small bare bone corridor that ran adjecent to one of the other hallways that lead to the mess hall. Confident that no one else was in the corridor with him he grabbed a hold of a metal panel on the the wall and lifted up and two the side. There was a little bit of force required to make the panel actually slide away as the steam in the tunnels that was given off by the oxygen recyclers on the ship which he assumed were ancient at this point. The panel revealed a red cylinder with multiple ports on it which went from the somewhere below the floor to somewhere much higher above him. This communication antennae should be able to squawk to the other ships in orbit, he just needed Fa to get here, she was better with these things than he was. Though he was beginning to wonder if his message got through.

He pulled back his white guantlets and let his dark brown robes fall back over his armor. While it was quite a bit hotter in these matinence corridors than the rest of the grimey ship his modified trooper armor was doing a rather good job of keeping him cool. Not that it bothered him much anyways, he was a zabrak after all. He pulled his robes hood down from his head being careful not to rip them on his horns and reached back into the small opening with one arm. He quickly found the lever he was looking for and pulled it towards him. There was a noise that sounded as if the antennae was priming. When he pulled his arm back out he heard the light footsteps of Fa on the thin metal walkway. He turned down the corridor and saw his lizard companion. He nodded slightly and said in a voice barely audible over the loud machinery that filled the ship "Think you can get me a secure line out?" Pointing towards the opening.

Fa did not immediately answer Vebra, instead walking up to the panel and looking inside just to see what he was actually talking about. She pulled out her datapad, then looked between it and the components inside the opening, which she assumed to be part of the communications array based on what he was asking. "Well, I'm not a slicer, sir. I doubt I can do much better than you." She began, trailing off as she leaned in to get a closer look at the array. Despite her words, she did have at least a moderate familiarity with technology, thanks to her experience in tracking targets on more urban worlds. Hacking a secure system was beyond her reach, but thankfully, security did not seem to be a major focus on this freighter.

"Let's see...well, this thing doesn't exactly have military grade security. Or much security at all, really. I can't plug into any of these ports directly, but I might be able to splice right into the wiring behind them. I can probably get you a line, but I don't think secure should be anywhere in your vocabulary." Fa answered. She had already began trying to loosen one of the ports to get at the wiring behind it; if the security was as outdated as she expected, then she already had a program on her datapad from a previous assignment that could help give them what they needed.

As Fa got to work on the comms situation Vebra leaned his back against the wall blocking Fa from sight atleast on one side, smiling at the humbleness of his subordinate. He reached down and lightly grasped his beshkab which was hanging at his hip. He then hoped that the refugees hadn't broken into his locker and stolen his rifle and helmet. He would be rather angry if such a thing were to occur. But he supposed he couldn't blame them. Most of them were refugees from the now war torn imperial controlled world of Balmorra. Having just come from there after killing yet another sith apprentiace before the war ran out he understood their situation far too well.

Even with the official end to the war and the planet being given up in concessions to the Empire the Republic the fighting never stopped. Even the commanders on the world refused to stop fighting and were now organizing resistance forces against a juggernaut of an enemy. Officially his squad was being pulled off world by command to begin training new recruits. Though when he heard Lyric's message he hopped on the first boat to Tatooine, telling his superiors he was going for some R&R there. While being reluctant to agree they knew he hadn't been rotated for close to 18 months and if he was a regular trooper he would be well past his average burn out time. Fa was luckily in a similar position, being that she was the only trooper he had that wasn't either killed or bumped up to leader of another squad he did make his case to her. After all, if they were going on a suicide mission it was best to bring atleast someone he could order around. While he trusted the Jedi he had found out the hard way that disagreeing with them could be complicated.

To be honest this was atleast up until now mostly relaxing. Granted a food riot had broken out at one point but it was quickly put to a stop when the captain of the ship threatened to vent the ships atmoshpere. He had managed to catch the first full night of sleep in weeks this previous night considering he wasn't in constant danger for once. Though this rickety freighter seemed like it was older than his grandfather but one would struggle to find much better when fleeing a planet that has been at war for so long. Now though he was just concerned that the captured Jedi would be able to last until they got there. It had been three days after all, knowing what he knew about Sith torture tactics....Vebra cleared his mind of the thought quickly with the soothing calm of the force.

"Hopefully Lyric still uses the old frequency from Balmorra the sentimental old nerf herder." Vebra pulled back his robe and opened up the small data pad on the underside of his fore arm, almost opening the old message containing the frequency. Deciding against it he brought his arm back into his large robes and looked around once again waiting for Fa to give him the all clear.

Fa came close to getting the port loose with her claws, though she did have to grab one tool from her belt to finish it off. Claws could be surprisingly good multitools, but her actual multitool gave more immediate results. Once that was finished, she was able to splice the wiring directly to a specialized slot on her datapad, bypassing the need for an adapter. From there, she had to get her datapad to be recognized at a maintenance device. Luckily, there was only light, outdated security, so one of the scripts she had used to perform a similar task in the past worked for this purpose as well.

"Hmm, I don't know if I would call him sentimental as much as too lazy to actually bother changing it." Fa commented with a light chuckle. Her datapad had the access it needed, so she navigated through to the screen where Vebra could select the frequency to attempt to hail, then looked up to him and offered him the device. "Here, just enter the frequency, and hit broadcast. It will take a few seconds for the array to fire up, but if there is anyone in range on that frequency, they'll hear it."

Once he took the datapad, Fa stood up and gave him a quick, serious look. "Though, I'll remind you that this is not a secure channel, so...keep it quick, and preferably vague." She warned, taking over his role as lookout. Honestly, she did not particularly like how they were going about this, being that they were acting outside of official Republic authority. But, this business with the treaty was not something that sat well with her in the slightest. She did not care how much the Republic's hand had been forced, she could not stand to let the Sith end the war on their terms. "So, Lyric...I know we've fought with him more than a few times, but how much do you think we can trust him with this? It's pretty serious, what he wants to do."

Vebra contorted his lips to the left slightly for a moment at Fa handed him the data pad. "It'll do." he began going through his head searching through which frequency he would have most likely used. He wondered if he still remembered the comm channel from the river they got bogged down in once, that was a fun fight. Then again so was the 12 hour long fire fight after it. These memories brought a small smile to Vebra's face, the imps had been good warriors on occasion.

"I trust Lyric with my life, excellent fighter and firm in his beliefs. Even if they conflict with me. Back before this squad is even offical I fought with the man, never before have I met a lazier Jedi. Adore the man even though he smokes the worst cigarra brand I've ever tasted." Vebra gave out a slight chuckle and had the taste of those cigarras invade his mouth once again. "Though knowing what the Sith do to Jedi I couldn't rightly sit knowing what they will do to them. There are things worse than death. We have a chance to do something about it, besides the treaty didn't collapse when they refused to give up Balmorra. I'm sure it will survive "hostage negotiations". If you have doubts about this you can stay on this frieghter or ditch me at the space port. We're off duty anyways I'll understand. But I would like to have someone watching my back." Vebra said with a bit of a light hearted attitude to help dampen the heavy topic.

Fa lightly shook her head. "You would be surprised how much harm someone can do just trying to do the right thing." She commented, gazing off down the empty corridor. She could not really pretend to know what the best course of action was in this situation. All around, nothing was close to ideal. From the moment she had joined up with the Republic, and even from her parents before that, she had been taught to follow orders, but now it seemed like the Republic was intent on giving up. No enemy, not even the Sith, was unbeatable, but there was no chance of coming out of the war victorious if they stopped trying to fight back. Fa knew she could hardly hope to turn the tide on her own, but Jedi were perhaps the best force multipliers in the galaxy. If she could help rescue even a few of them, that could have a pretty sizable impact.

Letting out an extended sigh, Fa gave Vebra a pat on the back. "But, I wouldn't be here if I didn't agree with you...that you need someone to watch your back, that is. I don't know how you ever managed to keep yourself alive without me." She joked. "Besides, I'll easily take an off-the-books suicide mission over leave on Tatooine of all places. The latter is probably more deadly, from boredom, if nothing else."

Vebra smirked "If nearly three decades of war have taught me anything, it's that sometimes the best thing to do is the right thing. Besides even if all we rescue are a bunch of padawans the galaxy is going to be needing them a lot more soon then they'll need an old man like me." Vebra capped that off with a gruff chuckle. Who would have though he would get old? A washed out Jedi who was stupid enough to join up and fight the best organized group of soldiers left in the galaxy. He wasn't even the fastest or smartest or strongest in his training platoon. But he lived, very few of the crinking troopers did. Come to think of it there couldn't be more than 20 of them left in the galaxy. Funny how things fell the way they did.

"Though I do hear you on not wanting to stay on Tatooine. Only ever met one vaping sod who actually wanted to come here for leave. She ended up switching out to be a bomber pilot but man, weird kid."

Fa shrugged her shoulders. "Bomber pilot? Maybe the place gave her a fascination with wastelands, and she decided to go make more of them? Regardless, I'm not keen on staying here any longer than we have to. Though, I'm at least glad it's not a frozen wasteland. I will appreciate the heat."

Vebra laughed, "You're telling a Zabrak that!"After going through several of the old channels he and Lyric used during their rotations he found one that wasn't pure static. The anteneas were unfortunately older than the force and would take a minute to line up. "Now we just gotta hope we arn't too late for the party." As the arrays creaked into place the signal cleaned up and Vebra simply used the microphone on the data pad to put out a quick blast over the comms "Vebra to Lyric, please tell me you use this channel still you lazy nerf herder." Vebra made sure to repeat this message two more times after a few seconds in between just to make sure it went through. Though he did change out the insult on the end every time.

Darth Nyiss led her two Jedi guests, Tolun Fi and Nazca, through the opulent reception area of her quarters towards a side door near the back. She had little doubt that to the young Jedi girl this area would seem appealing, it was after all the most comfortably furnished area on the ship. She did not expect Tolun to be impressed by such creature comforts though. She knew better than to think a man so dedicated to science would care for such things.

When she reached the door, she punched a code onto the keypad lock, while simultaneously manipulating the interior of the lock with her telekinesis. Only with the combination of both would it open the door - and open it did.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, though the contents could still easily be seen. A great variety of objects, some looking scientific, others looking far more like they belonged at an archaeological dig site decorated the benches running around the edges of the room. In the center was a vaguely person shaped table held up by an arm that could feasibly rotate it to any angle. A few buttons were on the side of the table, their purpose unclear but most likely for manipulating the tables position. Clearly visible on one of the benches near the table was what appeared to be a dismembered hand, skin matching Nazca's - though on closer inspection, it could be seen that it was, in fact, mechanical.

Nyiss stood back and ushered the two Jedi inside. It wasn't a large room but there was still plenty of room for the three of them to stand without being crowded. There was only the slightest hint of anticipation visible on her face as she spoke "If the young Jedi could please lay down on the table? Then we will begin."

The whole ordeal had thus far been something that Tolun Fi was reluctant to admit was of great curious interest. The Kaminoan consular largely ignored the lavish trappings, and really, he had expected the Darth to enjoy no small amount of opulence and instead focused on the technology she had arrayed in her quarters. He took note of the keypad, not able to see the combination when Darth Nyiss entered the code. It seemed far too rudimentary of a security option for someone of her obvious power and capability, so Tolun Fi suspected the Force was also involved, to some capacity, if not some sort of biometric system.

Once the room's access was granted, Tolun Fi took note of the artifacts, immediately cursing himself for not having any form of historical background. He couldn't begin to describe what was arrayed around the room, but they were captivating. The table, however, seemed to clash with the general aesthetic and looked like an interrogation table. Not seeing any obvious machines for discerning what would happen, he had to admit he was somewhat disappointed, as well as mildly disgusted, wanting no part in whatever was going to happen to Nazca. He said nothing, standing silent like a sentinel appointed to some grim duty. What could he hope to learn here?

Nazca's eyes scanned the impressive room. Her jaw, as was expected of her, dropping slightly. However a slight scan of her emotions would reveal her disinterest. It was a show of wealth, second only to a few of the Hutt kung mansions she had broken into, nothing more. She was more interested the locked doors to either side of them, one of which they began approaching. If people kept their doors in their rooms locked, that meant there was something valuable to them behind it.

She doubted that anything she saw in here would be useful, to her at least, but one never knew and it was better to be prepared rather than sorry. She watched Nyiss putting in the code, edging around quickly so she could see the numbers, mouthing them to herself to commit them to memory. Past experience told her they'd doubtlessly need something else, if Nyiss didn't rely on button pressing to activate her lightsaber she certainly wasn't going to rely on a simple passcode to lock her doors. Still, having one half of the key to the lock was better than having no key at all.

All the technology and artifacts in the room were meaningless to her. She was a thief from Nar Shadda, not a scientist. With the door closed behind her, a very powerful Sith next to her, and Tolun trapped with her, Nazca had no choice but to force herself to walk towards the interrogation/operation table. It didn't take force powers to the see that she was scared, bravado long gone in the face of unknown horrors. It was only when she had laid down on the table that she noted the hand. The hand that looked disturbingly close to her own, now removed, one. Curious, and eager to distract herself from wondering what Nyiss was about to do to her, Nazca spoke. "Why do you have a hand that's..." She trailed off, eyes going to her own stump. "Oh. Oh fuck no. You're not putting some Nek Taken robot Sith hand on me. I'll just take the ring removal and deal with my stump as is. Sound good to you?"

Nyiss was surprised by the reaction of the Jedi girl. Her surprise flashed briefly across her face before being replaced by a glare. "Is this always how you repay generosity?" She snapped at Nazca. "Just how often do you think I provide free boons? If you choose to scorn this one now, I will not allow anyone to replace your hand in any way. Even should Tolun or your mechanically minded friend cobble something together I will have it torn off. Either accept this gift now or remain with one hand forever more. That is your choice, and the only choice you will have while you remain here."

With that, she turned her back on the girl and looked at Tolun. "First we will remove the rings. They could cause unnecessary damage later if they remain. There are surgical tools in the draws below the benches. They will open for you, take what you need. Then we will install the new hand... Assuming she chooses not to continue defying me. Perhaps you can talk some sense into her? While you are doing these things, I will be taking detailed scans of her bio-metrics... I must tailor several chemicals to suit her body precisely. If you need to restrain her while you operate, the blue button on the tables control panel will activate restraints." With that she turned to one of the walls and at the touch of a button brought up a number of large screens displaying a wide variety of scientific data, though all the writing was in the Sith script.

Tolun checked the drawers as suggested, finding a surprising assortment of surgical tools in the small compartment, kept nicely sorted by dividers. While the manufactures and designs were clearly from Imperial worlds, it was impossible to hide the function and design of the tools any more than an Imperial blaster differed in basic form from a Republic one. Conspicuously absent was any form of anesthetic or injector. Pain was evidently a desired effect from any procedure caused in this room, which was hardly a surprise, given the rather unpleasant decor of the room. He found a portable x-ray machine that came coupled with a drone projector that would move to keep in his line of sight as he was working, some sutures, and a surgical cutter. Also present was a mostly-used bottle of kolto gel, which would be useful in promoting healing in the open wound. A small mercy is still a mercy.

He stood to his full height, meeting Nazca's fearful gaze with his own impassive one. Now, more than most situations, required a detached emotional state. Fortunately for Tolun Fi, he was well practiced. "Nazca, I do not know what Darth Nyiss has planned for this... operation, but I am certain the results will not be fatal or offer lasting harm. We both are at the mercy of the Sith, if you could call it that, and it is worth considering that there are worse things than pain and death. I will do what I can to keep you comfortable during the procedure and see to your care afterwards. You are not a Jedi yet, you regrettably were taken before you could truly understand the Order's virtues, but do not give into anger, fear, or hate for they will betray you. I will show you the way, if you allow me to." he looked over to Darth Nyiss, as if bored. He was feeling anything but. "I am ready to begin the procedure." he said, moving to Nazca's hand, studying the rings in detail. He activated the x-ray drone and studied where he would have to make the incisions without damaging the bones. Sensing the need for precaution, he reached over and activated the restraints for Nazca's arm. This would not be a pleasant task, and he rather did not enjoy the sound of screaming.

Nazca glared back at Nyiss, distrust mingling with fear. It was only the knowledge she wouldn't get far that kept her from leaping up from the table and trying to make a break for it. "Since when do Sith give free boons? What does this give you. You're all just like the Hutts. Anything 'free' always either benefits you or is a lie." Nazca knew Nyiss was doing this because she was feeling generous. Sith just didn't act that way. But, she also knew that she didn't really have a choice in the matter. Xid wouldn't let her go around long without a hand, and she shuddered to think about the punishment the Sith would enact upon him, once they saw that she didn't care how much pain they put her through. Sullenly, she spoke a final time to the Darth. "Fine. I'll take your hand." Don't expect me to trust it, though. She added silently, eyes going to watch as Tolun approached.

She gave a wane smile, growing pale as she saw the various surgical implements Tolun looked through the drawer. "Show me as much of the way as you'd like, Tolun." She began to shake as she felt the restraints activate to hold her in place. Unwillingly, flashes of the procedure to put the rings on entered her mind and her fear increased. Nazca barely bit back on panic, resisting the urge to start pulling and thrashing against the bonds. She didn't want that pain again. She didn't want to physically remember it. "Give me something to bite down on." She asked, softly and in a pleading tone as she looked at Tolun. "Please."

The kaminoan nodded, finding a roll of bandages, which he wrapped around the handle a flashlight. "Of course." he said, gently guiding the bundle to the young girl's mouth. "You will get through this. You will heal. And you will rise again, stronger than before." he said, hoping his words had weight.

Nazca smiled gratefully at Tolun, taking the makeshift bundle in her mouth and biting down experimentally on it. It should help. Hopefully it would. As Tolun spoke, she nodded and took a deep breath. It didn't help the fear writhing in her, but it did make her relax, if only slightly. This was going to hurt, she knew, but she had dealt with pain before. She could deal with pain again, even if it came at the hands of a crazy Sith bitch who practically radiated power.

“Wise words. You should listen to Tolun, the pain will make you stronger.” Nyiss said conversationally, before turning to look at Tolun. “I’m surprised you would try to train her in the Jedi ways in this environment. It is a remarkably cruel thing to do. In the end she will be a stronger Sith for it though, and so I shall allow you to try.” She turned to Nazca then. “And yes I intend to make you, and all of your fellows, Sith. Weak, crippled Sith are of no use to me.”

She then turned back to the screen and tapped in a few commands, at which point some equipment nearby began whirring as it mixed chemicals. “You may begin when ready Tolun.” She said turning once more. “I am eager to watch you work.”

"Cruel? No. Simply proper etiquette." Tolun Fi remarked, picking up the surgical cutter and igniting it, a brilliant blue light emitting from the projector. When the trigger was depressed, it would work similarly to a cutting laser in the guise of something not unlike a tattoo gun. Increasing the intensity, as he had to cut through a metal alloy, he took Nazca's hand in his off hand to both reassure her and hold her still in the event she squirmed, as even restrains could only do so much. The drone positioned itself on the opposite side of the rings so he would be able to see when he was about to cut through.

The process was slow, deliberate work that required an immense amount of concentration and one by one, the outermost metal fell free from her fingers, leaving the sub-dermal portions. This is where it would become difficult. "You may wish to bite down now." Tolun Fi said to Nazca, beginning to carve between the metal and her flesh and the light burning of flesh mingled with burning steel. The muffled screams from the girl were ignored best he could, and his hand belied an unexpected strength, preventing Nazca's hand from moving. The work continued, and eventually Nazca's body reacted to the trauma by exhibiting signs of shock. Tolun Fi inwardly cursed Darth Nyiss for forbidding anesthetic, as it was simply a cruel mockery of a medical practice. There were a dozen ways he could have done this differently, and all of them parsecs more compassionate and better for the patient than this butchery.

After what must have been close to a couple hours, the last of the metal fell away and after a quick inspection to determine if her bones were damaged, Tolun Fi applied a thin layer of kolto in the open wounds as he began to apply the sutures, closing them off before wrapping them with bandages, including a final couple of layers over the hand at large to prevent Nazca from moving her hand. The deed complete, Tolun Fi neatly put the tools away and leaned back with a sigh. "You understand that her body needs time to heal, otherwise this entire procedure was pointless." he remarked.

“Thank you for your superb work Tolun, but I’m afraid I don't have time for that.” Nyiss stepped forward then and took Nazca’s injured hand in her own. Lightly closing her eyes, she willed the Force to speed the healing process of the girls damaged fingers. This lasted several minutes, but once it was done, days were shaved off the girl's recovery time. Upon opening her eyes, Nyiss looked at Tolun once more.

“For your continued assistance, I will allow you several hours each night in the lab to carry out your research. I will assist you directly if I am not otherwise engaged at the time.”

She then crossed to the other side of the table picked up the cybernetic hand and offered it to Tolun. “Shall we continue? I will assist you with this.”

"Uncharacteristic of a Sith to master healing arts." Tolun Fi observed, no small amount of respect in his voice. Nyiss was still largely a reprehensible woman, but damned if she wasn't fascinating. He was curious why she was giving him reign of her lab equipment, and anything he would do would doubtless be monitored, but this was the best opportunity to find the breakthrough he was looking for. "The gesture is appreciated. Perhaps your insight will help me with more... problematic issues in my research." He stepped forward, taking the robotic hand and he turned it over in his hands, surprised by the quality of craftsmanship. It was light, had a fair deal of moving joints, and would have more or less the same functionality of a real hand, although he wasn't sure if this was one that would simulate nerve endings. He moved to Nazca's arm, making eye contact with the young woman. "I apologize for the pain and distress, but this will be over soon." He promised beginning to slot the arm into position. "I am ready to proceed."

Nazca would have loved to say she remained stoic. That she managed to control her emotions as she felt and saw the cutter go through the outer layer of her rings. That would have been her most blatant lie to date, however. The truth was her shaking got only worse as he cut through, fear increasing. She barely managed to keep herself from crying, and couldn't keep herself from attempting to thrash away from Tolun as he lowered the blade to cut into her skin. It was futile, of course. The last thing she felt before the 'surgery' began was hate. She hated the Hutts for putting the rings on her, and killing her friends. She hated the Sith for being exactly like them. Most of all, she hated Darth Nyiss for her cruel sense of 'strength' and putting her through this.

She was only aware of a few things during the operation. All consuming pain. The bandages being clenched tightly in her teeth. Screaming. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and by the time the surgery was complete, Nazca barely noticed her hand being taken care of. Her skin was covered in sweat, her lips and fingernails tinted blue, and her breathing was shallow. So much so that she spat the, soaked with saliva, bandage roll out. She looked at Nyiss, an undeniable spark of hatred resting in her gaze. Just like the Hutts. She's just like the slugs.

Her eyes shifted to Tolun as he spoke, the shaking began again as the fake hand was slotted into place. She slipped into Mando'a, voice shaky and hoarse from so much screaming. ^*"Jorso'ran kando a tome. Mhi mav cuyir par'jila. Do it."

“As you may already be noting, I am full of surprises.” Nyiss said to Tolun, genuine happiness in her voice. Then she looked down at Nazca, a knowing smile on her face. “It’s quite rude to try to hide what you are saying from me. You also really shouldn’t assume I only speak basic just because I am a Sith. The Mandalorians are our allies you know.” Her eyes took on a dreamy unfocused quality then, and she was suddenly not looking at Nazca, but past her... “As for triumph… We will all be triumphant in time. Even you.”

Just as soon as her mind had left the present, she had snapped back to reality, her tone business-like. “First, we connect the damaged nerves of her arm with the artificial nerves of the hand.” She said, picking up a tool to begin.

Nazca's surprise showed for longer than she would have liked, the shock slowing down her reactions. After a brief moment she gave a wane smile in Nyiss' direction before replying in Mando'a still. ^**"Kote lo'shebs'ul narit." Her smile grew slightly wider and her eyes more interested, albeit in a dull fashion. ^***"Sharee tul'tze jen shur geti, jendoslu." She half expected the Darth to reply in kind, much like Jayda had. Despite her growing hatred, she couldn't help but respect Nyiss' intelligence. Even if the bitch was getting ready to experiment on her.

63 minutes later

“There, the procedure is complete.” Nyiss said with some small satisfaction. “Unfortunately,” she began in a way that suggested she was anything but disappointed. “She is still unconscious from the pain. Tolun, you will have to carry out the tests and help her adapt to the hand later, but i’m quite sure the operation was successful.” With that, she turned to face the screens on which her research was displayed.

A few button presses later and a pair of visual displays of genetic structure showed up. One of them was Nazca’s. The other bore some similarities, but was clearly not the same. Nyiss wasted no time. “Tolun… Do you think this will be accepted by Nazca’s system?” She said pointing to the different structure.

The Kaminoan approached, observing the two strains with an observant, toned-out stare as he studied the differences between both Nazca's genetic structure and this proposed one. The scientist was fascinated, the Jedi was apprehensive at whatever Nyiss wanted to accomplish. Whatever the result, it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Impossible to say, but given how sensitive genetic codes are, what you're proposing may simply be too different for her body to adapt to. Take for instance the common Hill Slug of Nal Hutta. Genetically, it's about 95% the same as the DNA of the Hutt species. One is a brilliant, if disgusting sentient race that achieved space faring status, the other is a mindless invertebrate that eats insects and fungus." He waved his fingers between two sequences, an immediately notable difference between Nazca's genetics and Nyiss' experiment. "Look here, this isn't even similar to what you'd find in primates closely related to humans. If you tried to 'zip' this into pace of the host strain, it may end up with a total rejection and body failure. You must keep in mind that even near-human isn't near enough in a lot of cases. With modification, something not so extensive... maybe you can accomplish what you wish, but right now I do not unreasonably believe this would cause grand organ failure." Tolun Fi said, his voice level. He turned to look at Nyiss. "It would help if I knew exactly what you were trying to accomplish. I'd prefer to keep the patient alive, and I cannot do that in ignorance."

“You’re quite right.” Nyiss replied conversationally. “Initial tests, using a purely scientific approach, proved quite disastrous, as expected. I’ve determined that in order to bring about success, the process must be… helped along with the Force.” A few more taps of the controls and several images of the horrifically disfigured remains of previous subjects appeared. “I’ve yet to perfect the process and unfortunately my supply of suitable test subjects in the Empire has been quite limited thus far.” She turned to Tolun for a moment then and said “Don’t worry. They weren’t Jedi.”

Turning back, she continued. “And I truly do not wish this fate on this poor girl. That is why I want your help. I know a great deal of Sith Alchemy, but when it comes to altering the nature of a living thing, Alchemy can be rather… brutal. I was hoping you may know some Jedi lore or scientific approach that would allow a significantly higher success rate. Along with my revised Alchemy treatments I expect this one will at least survive.”

“As for what I am trying to achieve? You are familiar with the idea that a being can be naturally attuned to one side of the Force, yes? I wish to control that. That is, in part, what I am trying to do. Perhaps the most important part. The rest you will have to wait for I’m afraid. It is difficult for a Sith to trust, I’m sure you understand.”

The Darth then turned and picked up a large syringe and filled it from an arcane, disturbing looking drum on one of the benches. The device was hooked up to a number of tubes that went into the walls. The liquid that was then filling the syringe was thick and black. Without sparing a breath she spoke. “I will now be injecting this into the girl. She will act as the control, to observe the effects of my Alchemical approach, without any adjustments that may be able to provide.”

Surely Darth Nyiss had to have known that finding genetic predispositions to the Light or Dark side was something Tolun Fi had spent a considerable amount of time and resources researching. It would have seemed inconceivable that she would have sought him out if his own work couldn't have benefited her; after all, they were like-minds working towards a common goal with likely different desires.

It was both fortunate and unfortunate that what she was offering happened to coincide with what Tolun Fi needed to do. She may be using him, but there was no reason he couldn't potentially do the same to her. He would just have to tread carefully, speak the right amount of descent to not draw suspicion, and see how much of the data she presented that would be beneficial to his own aims.

"Jedi doctrine does not specify anything that would be particularly advantageous in this particular situation, but fortunately, I was never one to care for sticking to doctrine if there's a better way to do things." Tolun Fi said. "I am familiar with the theory that there's certain predispositions to the Light or Dark side that might be innate to an individual, so it would seem we both have a similar interest in discovering it. Now, let's see what this concoction you've created does. I will monitor vitals... and try to react if there's a potentially fatal reaction. You may proceed when ready."

“Very well.” Nyiss said in a neutral tone. Though a little annoyed that Tolun had no Jedi lore to share, she had been expecting that outcome. The Jedi were not known for arcane and esoteric knowledge of any usefulness. They tended to try to destroy or hide such information.

Nyiss’ focus returned to the task at hand swiftly though. With a quick, sharp motion, she plunged the syringe into Nazca’s chest. The injection of the liquid would appear painfully slow to those unused to such things.

When the last of the thick liquid had drained from the syringe, Darth looked up at Tolun and smiled.

^*'We shall bear this weight together. We will be triumphant.'

^**'You can keep your glory.'

^*** 'You can't understand me now, bitch.'

As the Lord Sith, Vivithe Lansha, sat within her chair and watched the chaos unfold inside the Jedi prisoner complex, her senses would likely suddenly become aware the force around her had changed. It was darker, thicker and seemed to shroud the whole room within pure dark energy. There was brief scratching and scraping as something crawled out of the vents then landed with a thump in a corner. It was hidden by darkness. Its shape undefined as it stood upright, straightening its figure which resembled something close to humanoid. Bright, red eyes flickered in hunger while it observed the Sith Lord still musing over the video feed.

A reddened tongue darted out to lick its chops before stepping out of the shadows it was hidden in. Dark side Force swirled about Lady Lansha immediately to gain her attention while it drew nearer.

The Lady of the Sith sensed something in the Force, something odd, which made her skin shiver just through feeling it through her Force sensitivity. Then she thought she heard something, a thump, like an object dropped from the ceiling. Could someone have possibly crawled through the vents to try and get the jump on her? She wasn’t certain.

Then she popped out of her chair, one arm drawing her lightsaber to her hand with the Force. She did not yet it ignite it, it could have been nothing, her mind playing tricks on her, or just her intense paranoia. She then stepped away from the chair and turned, but saw nothing, her eyes showed her nothing, just the dimly lit rest of the room. As well as a strange stench that hit her nostrils, causing her to scrunch her face in disgust for a moment.

“Whatever you are, I know you are in here with me. I am no fool.” Vivithe suddenly muttered in a cold tone, her words quiet but loud enough for anyone near her to hear it.

A dark chuckle answered the Sith woman as the loud sound of footsteps, like something invisible, darted past her, the chair she had been sitting on suddenly tossed to the side. It made a loud clang when it smacked the floor. When Vivithe turned to it, she would feel a brush of something cold and gently brush her cheek. If she reacted to it, she would find nothing but air as the steps quickly retreated into the nearest corner.

Vivithe nearly sighed in anger and frustration, in the back of her mind she felt a tingle of fear, a genuine tingle, something the stubborn woman hadn’t actually felt in years. She glanced around her, yet saw nothing. A spirit of some kind? Maybe a trick pulled by the other Sith to play a joke on the Lord.

“You are not a Jedi, and you aren’t one of the Sith.” Vivithe said, she knew for sure those possibilities were ruled out. She had thoroughly checked on every one of the Sith and Jedi on the ship before, the only one capable of possibly pulling this trick would be the Darth, but she would be too busy to bother with something like this.

“Show yourself, no more games.” She added.

Another chuckle filled the room, this time rather close to Vivithe’s ear as it spoke in a deep, gravely voice. “Why? Don’t like feeling helpless, or weak?”

The thing still refused to show itself while it moved about the room, the darkness growing while the lights seemed to become dimmer. Even the screens on the monitor flickered and started to die, their light fading. Whatever this thing was, it was rather amused to feel her fear tingling within her. Through it was slightly disappointed. Her fear, it wasn’t near enough or high in quality to feed it as it started to materialize into a dark, misshapen thing right before her eyes. It turned its red, glowing eyes upon her with a leering smirk at her small drop of fear. It wanted more.

“As I thought, an abomination. Are you the Darth’s toy that is trying to unsettle me?” Vivithe replied, blinking in surprise at the thing’s sudden appearance.

“Darkness doesn’t scare me, I can still sense your twisted presence through the Force.” She added. Her fingers clenched her lightsaber but still did not ignite the blade, she stood there in thought for another second. If she were still a child then she would have been crying for her mother, but in her current state she just felt disturbed by it, the tingle of fear in her growing slightly. She didn’t know what to make of it but it threw off all of the wrong feelings within her.

Then she tried a different tactic beside attacking it, which it may have been trying to goad her into doing, she smiled a wide, pretty smile. Trying to kill off any negative emotions that were brought upon her by the abomination.

Its eyes tightened on her pretty little smile. Then almost in a blurry speed, its claw jerked up and snagged her white neck. Its other hand immediately gripped about her wrist to hold her lightsaber at bay, pushing her down over the console. Another wicked grin crossed its lips. The eyes glowed hotter and nose dipped down to inhale her emotion, testing his action to see if it gain the proper one he sought. His hungry gnawed at it when it spotted the growing hint of fear in her eyes. However her face and body remained composed and calm. It was a lie naturally.

“You realize you can’t fight me. You’re weak...helpless.” It let the words linger in the air, its grip tightening until it was notably painful. “Admit it. You can’t fight me.”

Its figure was now lingering over her and had pinned Vivithe to the console, making sure she knew it was impossible to struggle. Letting the sensation of helpless come to her mind while it held her lightsaber away from it, mindful by instinct of its whereabouts, and prevent it from being able to cut it.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, abomination. You’re nothing but a mockery of a man.” Vivithe managed to spout despite the grip on her throat. The thing was strong, she couldn’t move her lightsaber, her other hand was free but there was nothing she could do with it. If she were one of those Sith that fought with two lightsabers then that wouldn’t have been a problem, but she wasn’t. Then she smiled at it once more, as she tried to contain herself emotionally despite her predicament. But inside she could feel her fear rising, but she was too proud to let it show.

“You can hide it all you want, but I can smell your fear. It’s nature, pure and completely correct. You’re already beaten because you can’t beat me.” Its claw loosed about her throat and scratched it, drawing a bit of blood to swell upon her flawless complexion. “Accept it.”

It pulled her upright then shoved her away, tossing her to the other side of the room and away from the door’s reach.

The drawn blood angered Vivithe, that would leave a scar. Before she knew it she was let loose by it, thrown to the side like a toy. It was strong, too strong. She needed help from someone, if those damned guards were worth anything then they would have already stormed in at the sounds of chaos. She was scared, honestly and truly.

She quickly rose her free hand towards the side of the room with the door, then used the Force to try to yank the door wide open, as powerfully as she could so that it would stay open. Then within another second she picked up a chair in the room and flung it towards the door with as much speed as she could put behind it. A chair bouncing out of the doorway would alert the guards, and if her aim was off then the noise of it smacking against the wall would do the trick regardless.

The thing raised an arm then stepped toward the door, smacking the chair away before it could reach through the door. The door was wide open yet… no one seemed to be there. Instead of the guards Viv had placed there, the hallways were empty and seemed voided of any life besides the pair within the room. It turned its red eyes twinkled in enjoyment to finally feel its prey reach her peak and started to walk toward her, casually taking its time while it speak the deep, dark truth.

“You have no one to save you now. No one to fight for you or defend you, not even watch you die.”

The fear within Vivithe rose, as did the frustration, her eyes opened wide as the abomination spoke its words, the blood trickling from the new scar on her beautiful neck. She ignited her lightsaber and clenched it in her hand, her back was against the wall, she hated having to jump head on into her problems like a foolish Jedi but she didn’t have much other choice.

“I’m not dead, yet.” She added, then started running towards it, her weapon at the ready as she lunged forward.

Just about react, the thing started to move when its red glowing eyes flickered and something sounded behind it. The door, which shouldn’t been opened, was still closed when a young woman walked in. Her head bent down over her report only to hear the buzz of the light saber and jerk her head up to see Vivithe lounge at her. Impulsively her hands jerk up her clipboard to shield herself from the coming blow through she knew it was pointless. Her body trembling at her confusion about how she angered the Sith, her mouth let out a scream in alarm as the men who were left outside rushed in.

When Vivithe looked around, she would realize her target was nowhere in sight. The woman’s screams blocking out the creature’s hasty retreat back up the vents while its signature faded, its path taken far from the room in hopes of new prey. The chairs that been tossed about had been instantly uprighted and in their proper places, making it seem like the whole event was nothing more than an illusion. However, the blood still warm and dripping from Lady Lansha’s neck would cry otherwise.

Vivthe stopped herself mid lunge as she saw the abomination disappear, in her place some shrieking woman who walked into the room at a bad time. She turned off her lightsaber and landed off to the side, the horror evident on her face for a moment before she wiped it away as cool, composed Vivithe returned.

“What is it?” She asked the woman, glaring at her and acting like nothing had happened. The woman simply handed Vivithe the report then quickly turned and left the room, leaving Vivithe to glare at the guards who arrived a little too late right as the strange thing disappeared into thin air it seemed. Strangely as Vivithe was no longer alone in the room.

When the Jedi left, Lyric had left the bridge hours ago and departed for his quarters. He needed to center his mind before things became too knotted to focus as his boots causally clicked within the metal hallways. The master’s pace was calm and graceful, with a hint of laziness in it while he cut corners to reach the Jedi quarters. His door opened immediately on sensing him stand in front, the middle parted with a sound hiss allowing him to step in. It closed quickly behind him while he discarded his top layer then casted it aside onto his modest bunk. Scars, old and faded, were seen across his arms etched by close encounters with combative Sith lightsabers through his history.

The war, as much as it hurt him to admit it, was a much simpler affair. He merely followed orders and killed when needed, lowering the Sith number. Lyric bitterly realized it wasn’t enough. Despite how many lives he ended, the numbers seemed to grow instead of declined leaving the Jedi at a disadvantage while their ground was slowly lost. It was a fact he hated though he had long ago came to peace with it.

Inhaling slowly, Lyric’s legs curled up underneath him and he lowered himself onto the hard floor. His arms settled on his thighs while he continued to inhale, bring his energy to the surface. It warmed and tingled with the pure light of the force, his flesh becoming alive thanks to the energy coursing through it. It filtered outward to spread into the air like a gentle flame igniting the room’s inside in a light feeling that brought tranquility and calmness. It caused Lyric to smirk at the sensation playing on his core, completely enjoying it, until the comm buzzed on. His teeth tightened about his cigarra end as the skin crinkled, his canines nearly biting it off, when the woman informed him of an answer to the distress beacon. Lyric’s eye popped open with a raised eyebrow to study the words in silence for a few moments longer.

Finally, he spoke. “Alright, I’ll be there shortly.”

Vebra and Fa were right when he never changed the channel, mostly out of pure laziness but also because he knew many of his old combat allies still used it in times of distress and emergency aid. Part of him had been counting on hearing from a few that were empathizers to his cause. He lifted to his feet then made his way to the bridge, a quickness to his step and the assumption that Vebra likely went through half a dozen insults by the time he reached it. A few Jedi Service Corp staff turned their heads at sensing him enter, their bodies raised to saluted then once more sat down. It annoyed him to see them acting so formal toward him yet he sealed his lips, adjusting his attention to the holoview nearest him.

Lyric chuckled at the latest insult. Schutta. His cigarra smoldered at the end and nearly died, his hand reached upward and aimed to toss it into a tray disposal. The other hand went for his robes, expecting to feel the hard case. He stopped when he quickly discover he had left it back in his room. He gave a slight groan, his teeth pushing past the cheap papering., while the man stopped his motion. Instead he didn’t take out his smoke and merely flipped on the monitor.

“So… How long did it take your thick skull to come up with Schutta or did a Twi’lek have to help you?”

While Miasa did have patience, she saw no benefit to continue watching the fight. It was obvious that the Jedi most likely would not win, seeing how they were unarmed, and she had no wish to explain to Darth Nyiss why she did not interfere if they did somehow manage to beat Lord Sish. Sure, it would have been his foolishness, but even brutes like him had their uses and he must have done something right to rise to the rank of Sith Lord.

She looked at the volunteer, a narrow-eyed human who appeared to be older than most of the other prisoners. It would be interesting to see what she had to say, to see how skilled she was. “It is time, prisoner. Time to go.”

The words took a second to register in Andri’s mind, and she whipped her head around to look at the Sluissi Sith. She had been waiting patiently before; why interrupt now? But, Andri supposed, the fight was doing no more than delaying and possibly prolonging someones time under the hands of the Trandoshan, who was also getting angrier as the conflict dragged on. Perhaps...though the Epicanthix didn’t want to just abandon her fellow Jedi, she hadn’t exactly helped them any by jumping into the fight as she did. Now that she had thought about it a bit as the scene dragged on between the Sith and the Jedi, Andri had to admit that her fellow prisoners weren’t doing themselves any favours.

Glancing between the scene in front of her and the Sluissi off to one side once more, Andri sighed softly and fell out of her ready stance. The black haired woman took a step back from Xid and the others, and reluctantly answered the snake-like woman. “Very well. I’m sorry, Xid, that I can’t help any further.”

Miasa smiled at the Jedi being obedient and wise enough not to object. While she would have preferred not to ignite her lightsaber, she would have had no problems doing so. Just as she would not have had any problems aiding Lord Sish. She led the way to the turbolift in the prisoners’ sanitary facilities, coiling herself up inside while waiting for the Jedi to enter as well, who did so with one last look at the scene between the Trandoshan and the other prisoners. Just as the doors shut on the turbolift, she could sense in the distance that the ship was exiting hyperspace and entering orbit above a sparsely populated planet. She had no idea what planet it was, but did not care overmuch. She would learn eventually.

She led the way around the arena, taking the prisoner not to one of the small rooms along the sides, but through the Sith common room and into one of the rooms dedicated to Sith Quarters. She had claimed one of those shortly after arriving, knowing it was empty. Eventually, when some of the Jedi turned as she knew they would, she might let some move in there too. The doors opened up at her approach, having been keyed to an object she carried. There was a small control panel beside it, but she did not need that now.

It was sparsely furnished, having no chairs, but a few large pillows piled in practical places around the various crates she had had moved over from her personal shuttle. The crates were all still shut, of course. She had not needed any of the gear within as of yet. The way the crates were stacked could look haphazard, but she knew exactly what was where. A suitable level of seeming chaos ensured that she alone knew what was where.

Andri glanced around the room as she followed the Sluissi woman into it, noting that there was no need for a security code or anything to open the door. It was possible that the woman hadn’t set any sort of security, but the Epicanthix doubted it. It was far more likely for her...current captor to have used a device or the force, which meant the likelihood of Andri being able to do anything with the knowledge was slim.

Noticing that there were no chairs in the room, though it was understandable as a Sluissi wouldn’t have any need for one, Andri settled into a stance that was comfortable when it came to standing for long periods of time. “By the lack of torture equipment readily available, I’m going to assume you have more subtle methods in mind.”

“Yes… Torture, while it breeds anger, is unrefined. Tell me about yourself. How do you see yourself serving the Empire?”

“To be honest, I don’t. The Empire has shown me nothing that appeals to me; what little I have seen of it is, as you said, unrefined anger and brutality, and betrayals around every corner.” Andri clasped her hands behind her back as she spoke. “At least in the Jedi Order, I have friends, I have been treated with respect and never have to fear that the person I help today could stab me in the back tomorrow. I am free to help people however I can; which I do by trying to negotiate peace between worlds. I aim for peace, and nothing the Empire has ever said or done has come close to convincing me even in the smallest amount that their aims are the same.”

“Peace is a Lie. No matter how many prepare for peace, others will prepare for war. In the Empire, if you are strong, you will be respected. I once was a fool, thinking only to gain more power. Darth Nyiss taught me a lesson. She was the stronger. I serve her willingly, for she is worthy. I help those who deserve it. Under the Empire, no worlds go to war with each other. Criminals are punished as they deserve. Can you say that there is no crime in the republic, that the laws are obeyed by all, or even by the vast majority? My apprentices serve loyally, and they are as friends to me.”

“The only lie I have seen is the belief that peace is impossible. It is darker emotions such as fear and anger that make peace difficult to obtain; I try to counsel against these emotions, which makes peace that much closer when two warring world can put aside these emotions and work together. My achievements are only small in scale, but if everyone were to work together then the small achievements would amount to something great.” Andri’s brow furrowed as she thought. “All beings deserve help, whether great or small. All beings deserve a chance to prove that they are more than they have been taught by their forebearers - where does the bully learn to fight but from those who provoke him? Where does the broken man come from but a broken home?”

“And as for there being no war within the Empire; that is through fear, which then gets channeled to the Empire’s enemies. At least in the Republic, a world that fails at something does not have to fear being overrun by someone looking to ‘earn more power’, often through force. A family that sits on hard times can rely on the support of the community to make it through and come out all the better at the end. And of your apprentices - how many would willingly stab you in the back if you showed but one small moment of weakness? A true friend would help you through the weakness, and you would both come out stronger than before.”

“Oh, peace is possible. But that doesn't make it less of a lie. People, by nature, prepare for war. Denying that does not make it less accurate. For a thousand years, the Empire has worked towards a common goal. There has been anger, there has been hate. But there has always been progress. Unreasoned hate and anger is pointless, a flaw. Focussed hate and anger will make you strong. The broken man may pull himself together and earn respect and power. If he earns it, he will be helped by others who believe as he does. It is the way of life.” Miasa smiled. It had been a long time since anyone had discussed properly with her. She moved over to the holographic console, pressing a few commands into it, activating it and revealing a hologram of Nal Hutta.

“See this world? It is proof your argument is false. Nal hutta, formerly known as Evocar, was just such a world. The hutts turned it into a festering swamp, chasing the Evocii away, stealing their planet, all to earn more power for themselves. In the Empire, they would not have been permitted to do so. The Evocii would have had defenses preventing the hutt's from taking their world. As for my apprentice s… None would stab me in the back after a momentary weakness. I train them better. Betrayal benefits them not. Loyalty is rewarded, just as my master rewards my loyalty.”

Miasa found the discussion invigorating and wondered how the Jedi would take it. She had no rush in converting the Jedi. One seed planted would suffice for the day, nonetheless, she would continue.

The Sith Lord briefly flicked his gaze to meet Koren's eyes as he instinctively blocked the nudge, grin growing wider. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait in line. I am taking the Twi'lek. Then, perhaps, I will go to you." Sish's eyes immediately snapped to Alat as a wave of malice rolled off of him. That was unexpected. The Trandoshan's eyes narrowed and he shifted to more fully face the Kel-Dor. What are you planning? He wondered, getting his lightsaber into a more ready position. He wasn't about to let the jedi shoot him with Force Lightning or touch him, now that Alat had seemingly realized the power of the Dark Side. "My, my. Decided to stop acting like a weakling?" Sish called, waiting for the Jedi to attack. When Alat did, Sish snorted in disdain. It was pitiful, how they kept trying the same thing over and over again like it would work better the hundredth time than it had the first time. He grinned maliciously, blocking the Force Stun as well. He had been caught unprepared by an attack once, he would not do so again.

Sish's lightsaber flicked up as Alat leapt at him, determined to either force the Jedi to move or get a limb cut off. The pressure on his tendon pierced his defenses like a sharp arrow. Pain seized his tendon, causing the Trandoshan to snarl. Sish paused, having to focus to throw off the attack, and that gave Alat his opening. Agony wracked the Sith Lord's mind as he felt his memories pillaged and knowledge taken. Sish would have screamed if he could. As it was, he stumbled, breathing hard. Pain still consumed his mind, but Sish refused to be crippled by mere pain. Knowledge comes with a blood price. Sish reached for his ever present rage, held back by a thin veneer of control. He could feel it now, tearing at his control like a savage beast on a fraying rope. Sish embraced the rage, letting it consume him. In a heartbeat, all of Sish's pain was replaced by pure, unadulterated, rage. Fury filled the room, eradicating all traces of Alat's malice.

Sish's mouth opened and he let out a Force Scream, the sound tearing through the small room. Sish whirled around, his movements much faster than they should have been. His vision was red, his breathing heavy, and all he could focus on was one thing; Punish Alat. Force Speed enhanced his already faster-than-normal limbs, and he charged towards the downed Kel-Dor, lightsaber sweeping down in a two handed grip to slice off both of his legs at the mid-point of the thigh.



Zanna watched as Jayda moved away as fast as she could, toying with the idea of following. She hoped the damned, stubborn, foolish Zabrak wouldn't go get herself killed chasing trouble in the prison. Zanna trusted no one else to train her to fight better with the lightsaber. However, she couldn't very well abandon the prisoners and chase after Jayda. Zanna kept a tight lid on her frustration, letting nothing show. Damned, foolish, stupid, impure bitch. She thought, seething to herself on the inside. On the surface, she remained calm and collected disdainfully glancing at Jayda's retreating back before watching two Jedi. She didn't want them to try anything. It would be stupid for them to do so, with a Sith and several armed and alert guards, but she didn't trust in the Jedi's sensibility.

He raised his hands to his ears as the sound pierced his ear drums, stunning him silently. His head bowing slightly as the lights in the room flickered slightly, not an actual electrical surge but instead a manifestation of Korens mind. As the pain with the damage already caused he lost control for a moment. When he lost control, his mental barrier fell. When his mental barrier fell emotions assaulted his senses into his very mind. The hate, anger, pain, guilt, love and a great sadness. It was too much for him to contain and as such as he was driven to his knees his mind was instinctively trying to help, his subconcious trying to conceal him with the Force in order to keep him safe. That of course wasn't working but his subconcious didn't know that.

He shook his head, fighting it off as he regained control the lights returned too normal. Being an empath, sure the Jedi like having empaths. Jedi with natural abilities are always good, being an empath surrounded by so much emotion? It was intoxicating, destructive. Painful. he regained his composure, flashing a smirk at some of the other Jedi. This wasn't exactly the way he wanted to show the other Jedi about some of his abilities...

Wasn't exactly what he wanted to show the Sith either. The last thing they needed to know was that he was an empath. He regained his composure just in time to see the trandoshan about to cut one of the other Jedi in half. Without hesitation he felt the Jedi in the Force, in a bid to grab him and pull him straight towards Koren, to then skid along the floor behind him. All while looking at the Sith. "I'm sorry, I'm not one for waiting in line."

Alat shook his head and as he began to slide across the floor he saw the lightsaber coming now or never It was just like passing a blade only it had to be faster. This is gonna hurt. Alat shot his hand out as the blade came down. Twisting his head to the side and directing the force along his arms the intersecting slash slid along his arm. Alat roared in pain as the fourth digit on his right hand was severed when the Light saber initially impacted. It seared the flesh of his right arm to a crisp as it slid along the arm preserving his legs as he slid out from under the stroke.

Alat’s head rang and he staggered to his feet after being pulled away from Sish. “piece of trash Sith.” Alat stumbled and hit his hip against a metal table. Alat's hand was curled into a claw as pain rolled from the severed stump of the finger. Feeling along the table to see what it was he caught the edge of it. Alat’s eyes finally focused on the Sith. “Congratulations, you’ve officially pissed me off." Alat seized the table with a hollow metallic roar and using the force he lifted it from the floor. No hot anger rolled off him it was a roar of effort as opposed to true anger. Alat’s aura was cold again but its edges still tasted of malice and it was all too clear that his intention was to cave in the Trandoshan’s head with the table. Regardless of lightsaber the five by two metal table was going to hit something and luckily no one was standing close enough to be hurt by it save the sith. Alat’s eyes flicked off to the side and a thought occurred to him. This is a bad plan, a very bad plan. Alat slammed the table down towards sith and headed towards a wall panel.

Xid had targeted Sish’s tendon with as much strength as he could muster, managing a weakened force tug on the foot. It took most his focus to make it where Sish would feel it while his mind tried to hold itself together. The fear at realizing his reaction might’ve just gotten everyone killed created regretful question. Why did he kiss Shiri back? Why didn’t he just jerk away and push her back.? Wouldn’t she had been safer that way? Even with a broken heart for both of them? The questions lingered in his mind as he fought to keep his attention on the task set to him, hoping to buy Alat enough time to clear Sish’s lightsaber before it lopped off something critical.

He was still shocked at Alat’s use of a darkside ability, trying to push past the twisted wrongness building in his gut. His stomach building into knots several times over and threatening to cripple him. It was almost as bad as Nazca coming back with that fake hand. When she was first tossed in, he couldn’t bare to be near that thing attached to where her hand been. Something was off about it. It made him shiver and recoil, unable to stand its presence. While it was beautifully crafted with the uttermost care, it was nowhere normal for a machine hand. To him, it was something perverse and terribly staining the craft he would otherwise consider breathtaking. Since she was returned, he had instinctively been avoiding the ill woman, her figure bedridden to a bunk, since she was writhing in pain and staring in sympathy and guilt from a far. It was something odd for Xid who was known to be compassionate towards those suffering.

He didn’t have long to dwell on that fact when he heard Andri apologize. Being too worked up in his need to save those he cared for, Xid barely heard a word she said until his eyes whipped around to spot her backing away. Again that feeling of helpless washed over him as it followed with guilt, his own recollection for her to spare him taking the spot had caused this. If he hadn’t asked her to go then she wouldn’t have to leave. Part of him wanted to scream for her to stop and even rip her arm, preventing her from going with the Sith. Sadly, he knew better. It wouldn’t have had any effect on the result and truthfully, it only delayed the end result. When she entered the lift and departed, Sish’s force scream hit him unexpectedly.

Immediately Xid went down at feeling the attack for the first time.

His body crumpled into a ball and curled up, hands shoved over his ears. His interior eardrums feeling close to exploding while his hands tried to stop it. It didn’t do anything. The room spun making him more sick while Xid tried to recover, his body unable to rise back up. Lacking combat experience, Xid failed to recover his balance and stumbled in his attempts to stand. He tried twice only to fall back onto his side as his rib made a weak protest, making his pain much worse. He could only watch as Sish went forward to hack off Alat’s legs. It wasn’t something he expected and hated himself more for being unable to assist while both Alat and Koren tried to lessen the damage.

“NO!” Xid screamed when he watched Alat become damaged. The Kel Dor had tried to deflected the lightsaber, at least it seemed that way, from where Xid was was lying on the ground. A weak attempt to spare his legs from getting severed. However, his tutatumis wasn’t strong enough and resulted in his forearm being cooked and his finger lopped out. It was like some slow motion horror scene playing in the young Knight’s head. He was still trying to stand when when alarms went off, through Xid’s ears were still ringing from Sish’s earlier attack to hear them.



All of a sudden, a blaring alarm began to sound in the Prison block, the Camera room and Darth Nyiss’ quarters. Not the distinctive moaning alarm that signified a ship was under attack, but a high pitched screeching. In between screeches, a metallic voice stated “Warning. Prisoner riot under way.”

Darth Nyiss, relaxing in her quarters, sat up with an irritated expression across her face. The alarm, though much quieter in her quarters, was still unpleasant. She had not expected there would be this degree of trouble so soon. She had hoped such a thing would have been avoided entirely, but it was not to be it seemed. With a sigh, she stood and padded over to the control panel near the door to her room. A quick series of button presses brought up the Prison block cameras. She immediately noticed the havoc being caused by the big ugly Lizard - Lord Sish, and the Jedi attempts to resist him.

With another sigh, she tapped out an activation code that would cause gas valves in the Cell block to slam open. High pressure tranquilising gas would pump in at great speed and neutralise the entire room, Jedi and Sith alike, in seconds. Even those with breathing apparatus or the Force breathing ability would be quickly neutralised, for the Gas was a custom mixture brewed by Nyiss using Sith Alchemy specifically for this purpose.

Nyiss observed the camera as the gas filled the room and everyone inside slumped clumsily to the floor. It was, in a way, quite funny to see all the proud Jedi and the raging Sith Lord collapse like toys, almost in unison. Still, the thought of having to brew another batch of gas took much of the mirth from the sight.

Once they all stopped moving, she activated the com to the nearby troopers. “Bring Lord Sish from the cellblock to my quarters immediately and have someone take the Twi’lek to Lord Namore.”



Thick, yellow white gas hissed from openings in the vents above. They poured down on the scene below and flooded the crevices in the cell until all the occupants were shrouded in it. Xid coughed harshly feeling the gas tingle at his throat back and his eyes becoming heavy, his limbs unable to lift him upright. His expression softened then finally he slumped into the ground under the influence of the gas. In his examination of the room, Xid realized why there was something off with his first findings…

He hadn’t had time to realize there was a ventilation system filled with gas among the security procedures. Now he wished he had taken more time to look while his world blacked out.

Sish snarled in fury as only a finger was removed, the Kel-Dor slipping away before he could do anymore damage. Sish only registered that Koren was speaking to him, and that the Watchman had been the one to save the Kel-Dor's life. He ignored Alat's babbling in favor of focusing on the Watchman. He snarled, freeing one hand and sending Force Lightning crackling towards Koren, a strong Force Push closely following it. He whirled and answered Alat's roar with a enraged bellow of his own, his free hand catching and stopping the table as it arced towards him. Sish bared his teeth in hatred, lightsaber flicking out towards the Kel-Dor. Unfortunately, Alat had moved just as he attacked, and the lightsaber missed. Sish threw the table viciously at the Kel-Dor's retreating body, enhanced by another Force push. He followed close behind, right around the same time gas began pouring from the vents. As soon as he felt it begin to affect his body, Sish bellowed in rage again, lashing out with lightning in the Kel-Dor's direction.

The rage suddenly disappeared and Sish hit the floor, unconsciousness rapidly claiming him and thankfully replacing the damnable weakness. He remained so as the Troopers took him away to Nyiss's quarters.

It hadn’t taken Lea more than a few minutes to get back up to the prison bunk room, after all, the turbolift doors were still open and when aided by the Force, it was no trouble to jump up to the prison level. No trouble at all. She had to think a bit on what the Sith had told her. Once back up, she sat down on one of the upper bunks, crossing her legs. She ferreted out the filched lightsaber, thinking about what the Sith had told her about it. It was increasingly clear to her than the Sith knew exactly what she had done, but had chosen not to tell. Unusual, but not implausible.

Before she could think more on that, she heard a click and a hiss from above. She sucked in a quick breath, remaining conscious long enough to see the thick, white smoke flow everywhere in the prison. Holding her breath and keeping her nose pinched shut firmly, she managed to resist its effects long enough to tuck the filched lightsaber in between the frame and mattress of the neighboring bed, then retreating to her own. Had she been able to close her ears and tear ducts, she might’ve resisted longer, but of course she could not. The gas, whatever it was made of, was far too pervasive. It found ways into her body despite her Force-induced control over her own breath. No doubt some creation of Darth Nyiss.

At first it only made her sluggish. Her thoughts grew muddled. She thought about whom she could get to adjust the lightsaber, but names had already begun to escape her and like everyone else in the prison already had, she slipped into unconsciousness.

Vebra gave a deep grin as he heard the familiar voice of Lyric on the line. "Well when you only gets shore leave every so often one is inclined to spend as much time with Twi'leks as possible. Besides, they taste better than your cigarras anyways” Vebra had to exert quite a bit of control to not burst into immature laughter. It was good to hear from an old friend, even if the circumstances were less than ideal. He took his right hand out from his robes once again and opened up his own personal datapad on the underside of his forearm. He opened a place to keep notes and quickly input the frequency they were using onto it just in case he had to use it again soon.

“With that much female hormones in the room, I’m surprised you’ve not gotten sore merely by standing in the same room.” Lyric stated, recalling the Zabrak’s ability to sense and use scent as part of their culture. It ended to useful despite his teasing tone toward his friend, his lips curled up into a light smile while he adjusted his footing. He knew he was going to be standing here for a while and aimed to get comfortable. His arms, unable to touch his smoke, crossed over his chest where they rested and stopped from shifting about. “So, you either came to check up on me which is unnecessary or you have another reason. Personally, if it’s the one I’m assuming then we could really use your help. Namely as few have answered the request for aid already.”

His body leaned over the console with his palms flat and his weight shifted forward. He looked into the screen as if he expected the very answer that Vebra was going to give.

Fa alternated between keeping watch down the hallway, and leaning in to hear the conversation more clearly. Personally, she still felt like this was a message that Vebra should have sent before they put themselves on a transport to Tatooine, but it at least seemed like Lyric was open to aid. Of course, now it sounded like they might have trouble getting enough men to pull off this rescue. Regardless, she and Vebra were more than used to dangerous assignments.

“Well, we are in orbit above Tatooine right now, and I can tell you that it’s definitely not for a vacation.” Fa chimed in, making her presence known. Vebra had directly interacted with Lyric more frequently than she had during the war, but she was not a person that could be easily forgotten, particularly for one as well-educated as a Jedi. Tiss’shar were virtually unknown by most in the galaxy, so she tended to attract the curiosity of others.

“Well…as you can tell I brought the kid along, hope you don’t mind. Though considering that anyone with a transmitter could pick up on us right now I’ll keep it brief. You know I’m not one to sit idly by while..” Vebra paused for a moment, if they were being listened to he had to choose his words now.” The nerfs are being kept in pens. It’s not like either of our companies are going to do much about it. So, we’re here for whatever you need. Where would be a good place for us to meet? We have all the gear we should need for a party but carrying it all could be cumbersome while in action.” Vebra began to hope he wasn’t being too nonspecific for this type of operation.

This type of paranoia from Vebra was due to a particular operation on Ord Mantell going bad because the locals picked up on their comm chatter. Things got very ugly very fast then and he assumed the Empire could repeat that for them with a smile. The imps were most assuredly set up on Tatooine, anywhere the Republic tried to build something they were always following close behind. He almost admired that about them.

“Tattooine, the litter box of the galaxy.” Lyric chuckled, slightly amused before he continued.

“Best spot to go shit digging, water vapor mining, and more if you don’t mind the slug and pest infestation. At least if you enjoy that for a vacation. As for bring the kid, I don’t mind as right now we are understaffed with only two employees reporting for duty and one loner who seems she does better working by herself due to conflicting methods. The humorous part is that she is a senior employee of almost equal rank to me. the bad part, this means we’re without a manger for hands on events.” Lyric’s tone sounded a bit bitter over the mention of Kinsa, her departure putting Lyric without a field commander and seemed to weaken their power over all. He quickly casted it away for the moment as he redirected his mind and regained his calm in the same fluid moment. He absorbed Vebra’ hidden message and nodded in understanding. He inhaled a moment, taking a breath, then added more.

“I understand your concern about the wee beasties but we don’t have full details on their habitat conditions or treatment. Not even how many are onboard until the surveillance footage is recovered from the building our competition ended up wiping out in a blind sided tactic. We don’t know how many they officially have or where they are being kept.” He paused a moment, his breathing steady and body leaned upright to face the console more comfortably. “Currently my employee’s are retrieving information over a rare procession used by our competition. You might want to start in Mos Eisely, that’s where my employee had docked and started from. They will likely still be there.”

“ I’m hoping by finding the maker, we could find a trail leading to a successful road. They might’ve ran into trouble through and could use the extra help. As for storage,” Lyric gestured to the nearest staff officer to to check the storage and see how much room they had, “I’m pretty sure we can store anything you want to bring here as we’ve got a lot of space.”

Fa thought briefly on how to go about saying what she intended to convey while Lyric spoke. She supposed it would not be suspicious to mention armor, as long as she did not specify that it was Republic armor. This far from the core, it would attract even more attention to her than her species. She could always go without it, though she would have to hope there were no sandstorms, as the sand would be quite harsh on her scales.

“Good, good. I don’t think I prepared enough coming here, honestly. I’d rather not wear my armor around the city; it doesn’t seem appropriate for the place. Perhaps I can pick up a robe somewhere? Perfect attire for the desert. Anyway, I’m here to help however I can; I’m sure you know that I have ‘leadership experience.’ Should we stop by your current location first and offload supplies, or seek out your employees once we land?” Fa asked. Given that they did not actually know what Lyric’s Jedi were specifically doing on Tatooine, they could use a more detailed briefing, but if Lyric’s rescue mission was indeed understaffed, then he might just allow his Jedi on the surface to fill them in on the specifics.

Vebra muted the microphone for a moment. “They already have a ship, well it’s likely where Lyric is sitting right now. As far as cloaks go I’ll nab you one on our way out. Maybe we’ll even match!” Vebra said making sure to accentuate his brow when he said they would match. Unmuting the microphone Vebra continued. “If I give you some coordinates could you do a meet up? While I’m fine hoofing it dropping our things off at the apartment would be ideal.” Vebra actually had a place in mind already that he had used on his first mission to the desert world years ago. I was close enough to the space port to be only a few minutes walk but discrete enough to not draw too much suspicion of a Republic dropship moving in and out fast enough.

He didn’t like how vague they were having to be to keep a reasonably secure line of communication. Though it was still better than some of the jargon that used on Republic battle comms, so it had that going for it. “When we meet up I’ll have you tell me all about the surprise party your friends threw the other day. I heard it was killer party, sorry I missed it.” He began to wonder how much he would actually be able to get from the holorecordings that they likely had of the sacking. At the very least though he needed to see it for himself.

“Again, I won’t look a gift Bantha in the mouth if I can help it.” Lyric stated then smirked at Fa’s offering to help, his thoughts for a moment lingered on the encounters with her. There was something off about her but he never pried. It could’ve been her truthful conversations on the force, the rare neutral, which he found to be a slight shame. He at least relieved it wasn’t negative or like the Sith ,a fact that would’ve caused serious issues later on down the road. Then again, the galaxy was filled with different sorts. That much was for sure. ”Fa, your skills in that area my staff requires would help greatly appreciated and as for your gear, that’s your judgement call. However, I will admit it might be rather… rough down there. Tatooine, isn’t a tourist attraction just because it’s a waterless wasteland.”

At Vebra’s jump in request, Lyric frowned at being interrupted then resisted the name on the tip of his tongue to call the Zabrak. Something in Ul’Zabrak and even Vebra would’ve found offensive, enough to know Lyric didn’t like being cut off in conversation. He shifted to answer the comment about creating a meet up and paused to think. His teeth had bitten through the dark wrap, scattering a bit of spice into his mouth and tongue, making him fight not to spit it out. It was clear he was in deep thought over the request before he spoke. “I think it might be better if I tell them to stay put then give you coordinates to meet them. Namely if they are already collecting information or having trouble, making that date might be rather hard. I hate to make you wait too long after all. Coming back to the ship would be wasted energy the company might not appreciate us using carelessly.”

Lyric’s fingers flew over the console, not allowing either to stop him, while he wrote the message into a format that looked relatively...normal. It would appear over Vebra’s datapad as a simple, ancient shipping receipt of a legit business, one often seen being used by multiple sources. There was no secret encryption to decode or anything to make it suspicious. It was by all accounts a forged receipt with the Jedi’s location at a place known for metal scrapping things from ship parts to droids, the address highlight for convenience.

“Merely arrive there to meet my employees. I’ll inform them of your arrival so they aren’t assuming you’ve come to cheat them out of their job. Work for you Vebra?”

As Vebra received the receipt for droid salvage he thought for a second that the Jedi had lost his mind and had sent him the wrong thing. But he quickly picked up on the information that he would need to get them to the Jedis on the ground already. He briefly remembered that the Jedi had given him fire over interrupting him before but this just made Vebra grin. Anything he could do to make that cigarra chomping mug do a double take and him not be able to do a single thing about it was amusing to him. His mind drifted back to the idea of captured Jedi for just another moment and the thought of what they were more than likely doing to them. Fighting each other to the death was always a favorite, then again so was alchemical experimentation. While Vebra’s smile was replaced with a neutral face he was very careful to not allow the facade of a cool headed leader crack.

Vebra quickly checked the rust bucket of a ship they were on itinerary. They were scheduled to land down in the port in about an hour and from there Vebra would most likely need to procure Ronto just to speed up their travel time. “Hmm, looks like this salvage is a bit far from the port. We’ll grab some local transport over there and could be there before the GST day is over. I do suppose the company was always a cheapskate.”

A hilarious image came to Vebra’s head involving local transportation and Twi’leks which brought a smile to his face again but this one was much more of self satisfaction. “Make sure you tell your employees to not be afraid of matching robes. Last thing we need is another incident corporate on corporate violence. We know how you like to keep em all riled up for a sale. Oh and Lyric, I’ll try to save some of the local women for you.” Vebra laughed albeit a stifled snicker would be a more appropriate description. He waited a few more moments awaiting a response from the Jedi before disconnecting him and the datapad. Then he heard a loud banging noise down the corridor on his right. The side that Fa wasn’t watching.

Fa believed she understood well enough the plan once they landed. They could not exactly control where this ship was going to land, but it was at least not prohibitively far from the address she leaned in to see on Vebra’s datapad. Mos Eisley was the largest settlement on the planet, and while that was certainly not saying much, it at least meant that it was the first destination for most ships coming from off-world. There was still the matter of figuring out what exactly they were supposed to be doing once they met Lyric’s Jedi, but the unsecured line prevented them from learning that. She supposed it would just have to be a surprise. Until then, she would need to keep as low of a profile as possible for a heavily armed and entirely unique reptilian in Republic armor obscured only by a thin layer of cloth.

Smiling, Fa directed a laugh at Vebra before he cut off the call. “Local women? I suppose Jawas need affection as well, though I don’t think Lyric will mind if you keep them all for yourself.” She began before the loud banging from the other side of the corridor immediately captured her attention. Cutting out the jokes, she quickly grabbed the panel and motioned for Vebra to get out of her way. “Quick, unplug that thing and move.” She whispered.

Lyric listened to Vebra, and nodded, his face not revealing much about his inner thoughts. Through on the inside he was relieved to have more assistance in the aid effort through part of him wonder if it was enough and what condition the Jedi would be in when they did arrive. How many would they have to put down during the rescue when they got there? Lyric shuddered, inwardly, at the thought of what they might find. He couldn’t help but wonder if Vebra and Fa were prepared to killed allies now turned enemies.
Lyric was enjoying the banter before a banging was heard over the communications.The master’s face became serious, his voice become immediately silent as he waited for the extra ears to pass. Last thing he wanted was sensitive information being passed while an untrusting source was lurking about, Fa lowering her voice to say something inaudible.

Vebra knowing that their time was at an end flashed Lyric a smile and disconnected the datapad from the antenna. He quickly covered up his own pad and handed Fa back her’s, then reaching into the side where he had kept the panel. He began to hear footsteps on the metal walks far down the corridor. He pulled the metal covering up and forced it into place as quietly as he could. Without looking knowing that there were people coming towards them put his hood up and turned left and attempted to herd Fa out of the area with him. The footsteps steadily growing louder.

He managed to find an exit and quickly opened it which slid to the sides with quick action by the servomotors. He poked his hooded head out the door and was pleased to find that it opened into an empty hallway. “Everyone must still be at dinner.” He whispered just loud enough for Fa to hear. Checking left and right once more he stepped out into the much less cramped space and thumbed the door control behind them. He turned one last time to Fa and said. “Meet me in the loading bay in 15 minutes with your gear. I should have a robe of some sort worked out for you by then.” He glanced at the door again for a moment. “Grab some food too if you want but make sure it’s to go. We should be landing soon.” With that Vebra turned on his heels and began making a fast walk away from the area and towards the rest of his gear, hoping the locker hadn’t been cracked by the refugees.

Although they had to cut their conversation with Lyric short, Fa supposed they had learned all they needed to for the moment. They had a destination, and some direction of what to do once they arrived. All there was to do now was to wait until the ship landed, preferably without causing any problems with its owner for hijacking its communications array. The pair made it out into the hallway safely, and as Fa would expect, Vebra suggested splitting up for the moment and meeting up again shortly. She nodded in agreement, then headed off in the opposite direction.

Following Vebra’s suggestion, Fa decided to grab something for dinner before gathering her belongings, mostly because her bunk was in the same room as his. Meat was a premium meal aboard a ship with barely enough supplies to sustain the refugees on board for the duration of the journey, but as her species were strictly carnivores, they had actually set aside enough for her and any others with the same dietary restrictions. She only had a small amount of the raw meat remaining, but it was enough to last her for a while. Afterwards, she headed back to her bunk to gather her equipment, most of which she would keep in its crate until she could get a cloak from Vebra.

Alat twisted as he sensed the table coming for him. The response was less than graceful. Diving forward and twisting Alat caught the table with his arms and shoved as it took him from his feet. “Damn.” Alat slammed into the ground and began to sit up “You bast-”. Alat saw the lightning coming towards him and extended his left hand as the force lightning arched towards him. Alat caught the nasty sith technique and bounced it off of his hand into the ceiling frying part of the lighting; as he didn’t have the energy to reflect it at Sish. As the gas hissed into the room Alat steadied his breathing; allowing himself to drop into breath control. Alat’s breathing slowed, Nyiss wasn’t stupid, this gas was going to put him down but before it did… Alat surged rallying against the intrusion on his sense buying a few more moments after Sish had passed out. Yanking the Sith’s lightsaber from his numb clutches Alat snagged it. Can I make it to him?
Alat moved and instead of climbing to his feet he pitched to the side and cracked his head against the ground slumping over on top of the lightsaber.

Canisha woke very slowly, her ears flicking in an attempt to hear anything around her as the Cathar struggled to rise from the deep level of unconsciousness she had been in. Obviously she had been drugged, as there was a foul taste left in her mouth and her eyes felt like someone has pasted them together.

She flicked an ear again, trying to see if there was any noises whatsoever wherever she was. She was on a floor - cool metal pressed into the bony parts of her hips and shoulders, not even a cushion for her head. There were no sounds of breathing, no shuffles or rustles of cloth against clothes or bodies against furniture. No soft murmurs between people, whether they be friend or foe, nothing. There was only the steady hum that denoted some sort of transportation filling her ears.

The young lion took the chance the solitude presented to her to cast her mind back through her day previously. She had...been awaiting the results of her Knight Trials, which Canisha had only just finished a few moments earlier. She remembered fiddling with her Padawan braid, wondering if today would be the day it would be cut off, and Canisha would become a Knight. She remembered wondering if her Master, Jedi Knight Rena Grandolph, would be proud of her as she paced the halls, anxiously awaiting the verdict.

She remembered a feeling of overwhelming darkness, and instinctively activating her lightsaber as she stepped forward to confront whatever it was that had entered the Temple. She remembered rounding a corner and coming almost face to face with an intimidating red-skinned woman who reeked of the Dark Side. The blast of Force which sent her crashing into a wall, the fear which paralysed her as the woman stalked towards her, the almost tender caress from the woman - and then being carried away by Sith Troopers as the woman swept away.

She remembered seeing the outside of a ship briefly, before someone hit her hard enough to send her spiralling into unconsciousness, and then nothing until now.

Finally prying her eyes apart, Canisha glanced around the small, well lit room she was in. She was alone, as she expected from the lack of noises around her, in a small room containing nothing more than an uncomfortable looking chair and a small, very basic metal table. It looked more like a storage room than anything to hold a prisoner in, and the girl cocked her head as she sat up. Was she perhaps not a prisoner of the Sith? Had she been rescued while she slept, and placed in whatever spare room her benefactors had?

It took a moment for her legs to work without shaking enough to support her weight, and she pushed herself to her feet quickly. Vertigo hit her for a moment, and Canisha steadied herself on the table as it passed before striding towards the door.

It didn’t open, and despite the young Cathar’s best attempts to put in some sort of code or command to the pad beside it, her slicing skills were obviously not up to snuff to deal with whatever security they had installed and she had nothing to help her.

“I guess I am a prisoner, then.” She murmured to herself. She glanced around the room again with a frown. “But why put me in here? If they’re Sith, then they should have a prison cell - that’s what the Holonet says about bad guys anyway. They always have a dedicated prison cell, especially if they are leading an attack on a peaceful place like the Jedi Temple. Though, if I’m a prisoner of, say, slavers, or a political bargaining piece then it would make sense to shove me in whatever room they have. But taking a Jedi prisoner is a stupid move, and how would slavers defeat a ship full of Sith Troopers and at least one very scary lady? It doesn’t make sense.”

Realising she was rambling to herself, Canisha ran a hand through her hair and decided to occupy herself by looking around the room. It was very bland, the table having been bolted in place to prevent it from sliding around in case of emergencies, and the chair was just as bland as she thought it would be - neither comfortable or uncomfortable, it was just sort of there. Everything was decorated in silver with red highlights, which gave the room a sterile - if slightly evil in Canisha’s opinion, as red and silver were generally seen as Sith colours - feel.

She soon abandoned her inspection of the table and chair - she was a curious one, but even she couldn’t study the same thing for an hour - and started inspecting the walls, looking closely at every seam in the craftsmanship of the room. She found a camera and spent quite a while staring into it from about twenty centimetres away, wondering if someone was sitting on the other side watching her every move. Were they studying her? Was she some sort of experiment, perhaps on the effects of isolation of a young Cathar? Did they expect her to go crazy?!

She turned her nose up at the camera, incidentally giving anyone watching a perfect view of the inside of her nostril, before turning away. If they wanted to watch, she would let them. Perverts, every last one.

Having finished her thorough inspection of the room, Canisha plonked herself back onto the floor of the room, ignoring the chair. There really was nothing to do in here, and the boredom grated on the curious Cathar’s nerves a bit. At least when she had been waiting for the results of her Knight Trials, she could pace and look at the amazing architecture of the Jedi Temple to try to assuage her anxiety. Here, there was nothing to look at and if she tried pacing she’d trip over the chair with every circuit!

With nothing else to do, she let herself slip into meditation, reflecting on the day and the Force. Meditation wasn’t her strongest suit though, as it tended to delve into her inner emotions, and the grudge she still held against the Jedi Order for taking her away from her family, for buying her from her mother like a piece of hardware, still lay heavily within her heart. She dropped out of mediation almost as quickly as she entered it, scowling at the memories.

“Kark, is it so hard to put a clock in here!” Canisha burst out suddenly, throwing her hands up and slumping back to lay on the floor once more. The young lion stared at the ceiling for a bit before pushing herself to her feet again, an idea in her head.

Carefully stacking the chair on top of the table to clear what little space she could, Canisha fell into a stance and slowly walked herself through the techniques of Ataru, imagining herself holding her lightsaber as it was conspicuously missing from her belt. She vaguely remembered dropping it when the Scary Sith Lady’s Force attack had cracked her head against the wall, and supposed it must be lying in the rubble of the Temple.

The forms quickly bored her, and she moved from standard Ataru techniques to more acrobatic stuff, such as standing on her hands and resting her feet against the wall behind her. She let out a huff. “Bored now.”

Lifting one hand so she was in a one handed handstand, she extended the claw of her index finger and tried to scratch her name into the wall behind her whilst retaining her upside down position. Her claw barely made a mark in the hardened steel walls, and she pouted. “Well, that’s a waste of a perfectly good wall.”

Swinging down from her upside down position, swaying slightly as the blood rushed away from her head again, she walked over to the door once more and leveled a kick right in the seam. She regretted it immediately, as the door was solid and thick and the dull thump did nothing more than hurt her toes. Cursing and hopping on one foot, she shook a fist at the doorway. “Let me out of here, for frag's sake! Or at least give me something to do!”

There was no answer, of course, and when her toes stopped hurting enough for her to walk on them again she sniffed in imitation of a haughty woman. “Fine. See if I care.”

Canisha turned on her heel and stalked the two steps it took her to reach a corner furthest from the door. She sat down with all the dignity she could muster and curled in upon herself, pulling her robes tighter around her body. “At least turn the lights out so I can go back to sleep.”

She turned her face away from the lights, hiding it in the shadow of her shoulders as she tried to ignore the bland and bright room. Her stomach grumbled and the awful taste left over from whatever drugs they had used on her was only getting worse as thirst set in, and she tried to make herself even smaller. She murmured softly to herself, “Master, I hope you’re okay.”

Eventually sleep claimed her once more, curled up in her corner with her ears flat against her head, trying to ignore the stabs of hunger and dry mouth thirst left her with.