Private Bound Bones and Frigid Cages

[Varin Mortifer]

THE BOX

Location: Kamino

The Box, a specialized prison to house only one prisoner, Varin Mortifer, drifts along the currents of the oceans beneath it. The walls are battered with massive waves that rock the facility, but its gravpulses anchor and stabilize the ship as it travels. Along the outer edges of the upper walls, heavy automated blaster turrets scan the skies for any incoming vessels approaching without proper clearance.

Within The Box, security patrols at all hours, watching over runways, walkways that weave through the buildings' many halls and circular shape, checkpoints and even the massive door to The Vault. A specialized cell built to hold the only inmate within the prison. Throughout the building are many rooms that serve as personal sleeping quarters for the many guards as well as a mess-hall for dining and a chamber for showers and cleanups.

Cameras and security droids await for any heavy resistance. Armed with heavy riot gear and heavier weapons than the security guards, these droids are few but formidable. They await on standby.

Two weeks had gone by since Varin was moved into his cell. His body lying weak and malnourished. His consciousness slips in and out at a constant rate. Pain from the his shoulders and the shackles that pierced his wrists make sleep very difficult to maintain. The only way he could pass time was to meditate and to pray.

He would pray to Bogan not for strength, or for endurance. If you prayed for those then you were not worthy of his blessings. No, he prayed for opportunity. Fourteen days of meditation and prayer, his musings were starting to run dry. Then…

Several familiar feelings he felt broke through orbit. His fists tightened as his heart thudded. A flicker, a glimmer of something he thought he would never feel.

Revna Marr | Darth Strosius | Lysander von Ascania | Shade | Seren Gwyn | Allan Alhune​

 

[Shade]

The ocean below rolled in a state of endless, slate-gray violence. From orbit, the world had appeared peaceful, almost serene, but from the cockpit viewport, it was anything but. Waves the size of buildings battered the drifting prison complex, which rode the currents like a stubborn parasite clinging to the planet's surface. Even from kilometers away, the automated turrets were visible, rotating slowly along the structure's upper ring as they scanned the sky with mechanical patience.

"The Box," Shade murmured, her gaze fixed on the installation.

Streams of sensor data, thermal signatures, power routing, and targeting arcs scrolled across her console in a continuous neon blur. To her, the fortress screamed overconfidence: a massive, armored monument built to contain a single man. Beneath her fingers, a borrowed Republic Intelligence encryption suite threaded itself through the Box's external traffic, probing for the specific authentication handshake used by supply craft. They were prepared, but Shade knew that preparation only held value if the system was convinced they belonged there.

She flicked her crimson eyes briefly toward the others gathered in the cramped space, Revna, Seren, Strosius, and Lysander. Each carried a presence that pressed against the Force in a distinct way, like different storms gathering along a single horizon. It was a formidable group, but certainly not a subtle one, which made the initial approach the most delicate variable in the equation.

Returning her attention to the console, Shade tapped a final command, watching as the ship's transponder shifted. A new identity slid into the Box's incoming traffic network, buried deep beneath layers of legitimate supply requests and maintenance logs. As the system finally accepted the handshake, she let out a slow, controlled breath.

"Their external sensors are active, but they follow a predictable rhythm," Shade reported, her voice carrying calmly through the cockpit to the rest of the team. "Supply vessels are cycled through the first perimeter every six hours, and we've timed our arrival to sit right inside the next window. If we maintain this approach vector and keep the transponder code active, their automated targeting should treat us as nothing more than routine logistics."

She adjusted the display, projecting the rotating patterns of the turret arcs across the forward viewport so the others could see the gaps in the defense.

"This should get us past the outer guns and through the first checkpoint without raising an alarm," she suggested, her gaze moving across the group to gauge their reactions. "But once we're inside, the window of opportunity narrows. I've pieced together a schematic from the fragmented files I could find, security corridors, patrol routes, and the path to the Vault itself."

She tapped the display again, highlighting the prison's internal layout.

"I can confuse their cameras for a short time and loop the security feeds long enough for us to slip between checkpoints," she added, her voice lowering as the battered hull of the Box grew larger in the viewport, looming over the raging sea. "However, it's a fragile deception. Once they realize the system has been compromised, the entire facility will go into total lockdown. My suggestion is that when we make our move...we make it fast."

Varin Mortifer Revna Marr Darth Strosius Lysander von Ascania

 

[Allan Alhune]

Though the outside of The Box was battered and shoved by waves, following along a massive oceanic current. The stabilized gravity within the building kept everything motionless. No one rocked from balance issues, items did not fall off shelves, even wires maintained position as they dangled from monitors that watched over the various icy halls of The Box.

Allan stood with his arms folded behind his back watching over the various video feeds with rapt attention. Various machines hummed and beeped as security and engineering personnel manned the screens and reports of activity within and around the facility. Beneath the sleeve of his arms, a clawed finger lightly tapped the metal of his arm, a hollow scratch barely audible screeched as he drug his nail over the surface.

His violet eyes focused on the camera watching over Varin. The boy had not moved since he had been imprisoned. Surely he would have made some sort of movement out of discomfort within the span of these couple weeks, his body did not even sag when he attempted to sleep. The entire time Allan watched him, unblinking, unmoving. Patient as the grave. But within him a rolling hunger of hatred stirred within the recesses of his very subconscious.

He wanted this boy to suffer. How dare he fight back and live to tell the tale of how he took his arm.

This…petulant child that had burned him with lightning from his very jaws.

His hand tightened over the metal of his arm.

“Lord Alhune.”

His gaze flicked to the officer that approached him, silent, he gave him a slow nod to continue.

“It would seem the boy is ready for his next dose.”

Allan smirked.

“It’s about time. I will accompany you on this journey to The Vault.”

Darth Strosius | Revna Marr | Lysander von Ascania | Shade | Seren Gwyn​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace​

Silence…

Two weeks of silence and darkness. No sight, no voice. Only breaths and prayers. The cold floors had already blistered his knees and split the skin long ago. What hurt was not numb. Even his fingers. He could not tell if he was tightening his fists or if they stayed relaxed.

The throbbing pain in his shoulders made it hard to breathe for the first few days, but by now he was used to it.

Over and over he thought of the moment with his father. The aching pain in his ribs that had spread up his entire side. He had done something to him to make the time here just a bit more bearable.

Massive locks disengaged from the far room as footsteps approached, Varin did not shift, he did not make a noise. He kept breathing.

Someone stepped up to him.

“Kneel boy. Master Alhune is gracing you with his presence and you will show respect.”

He did not acknowledge the voice. He did not even shift his head as if to “look” at him.

After a long pause a hard impact crashed into his sternum knocking the wind out of his chest, before the familiar shock reverberated through his body, a muffled yell attempted to rip from his sealed lips to no avail. The shock baton held in place as pain flooded his body. His legs lurching up to try and push back only for a cold metallic hand to grip his throat, cutting off whatever air he had in his lungs.

For a split second the grip tightened before he was dropped back to his knees, his shoulders jerking back into position as another muffled snarl of pain attempted escape from Varin’s body.

“Dose him.”

Varin did not move. Not even when the prick of a needle embedded itself into his neck.

“Reduce his caloric and water intake. He will learn respect eventually.”

The footsteps began to head away from him, the echoes of boots fading until the massive mag locks of the doors latched back into place.

Varin’s body sank lower as he reeled from the pain.

Then…

A trickle. A feeling.

Someone was coming.

Shade | Seren Gwyn | Lysander von Ascania | Revna Marr | Darth Strosius | Allan Alhune​