Private Chrysalis

[Darth Virelia]

"A war on the self."

Tags - Reina Daival



The tank hummed with low, viscous resonance. The kind of sound that settled into the bones and whispered stay.

Deep beneath the surface jungles of Rakata Prime—where the canopy above choked out the stars and the ruins of the Infinite Empire bled power into the roots of the world—Darth Virelia stood alone with her prize.

The chamber was circular, obsidian-walled, smooth like a sanctum carved from volcanic glass. Bioluminescent flora—genetically tailored to Virelia's aesthetic—glowed in delicate spirals up the walls, casting the entire room in shades of violet, rose, and violent gold. The only illumination beyond them came from the tank itself: a cylindrical structure of dark transparisteel shot through with thin veins of circuitry and ritual etching. Alchemical seals pulsed in concentric rings across its surface.

And floating in its heart, suspended by a gel-like medium of soft green and gold, was Reina.

She was not bound. Not physically. No straps. No cuffs. Her arms drifted at her sides like she were dreaming underwater. Her head tilted gently downward, eyes closed, hair fanning out in a slow, aimless ballet. The nutrient-saturated medium clothed her better than any armor—it seeped into every pore, numbing, preserving, preparing. A chrysalis in the making.

She hadn't spoken since they arrived.

Virelia didn't mind.

The Sith Lord stood barefoot on the polished stone floor, arms loose at her sides, her armor peeled away in layers until only her long black underrobe clung to her lithe frame, parted slightly down the middle where her skin shimmered faintly with the residue of Force-charged incense. Her hair was unbound, cascading down like blonde ink. The air around her was warm, heavy with floral scent, and laced with a subtle electrostatic thrum that made every breath feel… intimate.

She watched Reina float in silence. Studying. Savoring.

This was no longer about breaking her.

That had already happened.

This was about shaping. About guiding the pieces into something sublime. Something that could bloom under careful hands.

"You always did look better in stillness," Virelia said softly, more to herself than to the girl in the tank. "Not the brittle kind—no. That frantic, jagged little edge of yours was always so exhausting to watch. But this…"

Her hand drifted along the outer glass, fingers trailing as if to trace the curve of Reina's cheek without truly touching. The connection was all imagined. All manufactured. And yet—utterly real in her mind.

"This is the silence you never gave yourself."

She paced slowly, each step unhurried, predatory in its grace, her violet eyes never leaving the form suspended in fluid. The alchemical sigils responded to her presence—low pulses of purple energy crawling across the glass in slow syncopation with Reina's faint heartbeat.

"You would have died for them, you know. For the people who forgot you. For the ones who feared you. Even for the ones who broke you." She exhaled with a wistful sigh. "You wanted to be a Jedi. Wanted it like a child wants praise. But you were always too honest to fit in their little temple games."

The lights dimmed slightly. Not from power loss—there was no such thing here—but as a cue, a rhythm Virelia herself had set to underscore her rituals. It made her voice seem closer. Lower. Wrapped in velvet.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Reina. Not in the way you understand. No torture. No scars. I don't need to twist you. I'm going to teach you what it means to feel again."

She leaned in, lips brushing the outer tank, leaving behind the faintest bloom of condensation.

 

[Reina Daival]

Tags: Darth Virelia

Reina wasn't here. Not mentally at least. She hadn't been here for a while. Not since her attempt to take her life into her own hands had failed. She might have failed at taking herself out physically, but emotionally and mentally, the redhead was just broken. The entire journey to where Serina had taken her had been quiet on Reina's end. Not taking in any noise, nor saying anything herself. She had nothing to say. Nothing to believe in any more. Reina didn't have any words to hide behind. No shield to hide behind. She had prepared to sacrifice herself and that sacrifice had been ripped away from her. Her defense. Her protection, It had shattered in a dozen different fragments.

And so this is where she laid, adrift in some kind of nutritional soup, floating in a world of her own...Except it was more like a nightmare. She couldn't decide which world she wanted to be in. In one world, she was adrift on the ship she had been raised on. Working hard with the crew that had been her family for so long. There wasn't a smile on her face, but she felt good. Felt happy. It was what had come naturally to Reina. It was what she was used to for so long, and in one part of her mind, it's where everything started to go so wrong. But it was wrong. There was something missing. Who she was. On the ship, she was just a face. No-one.

But then came the second world she could have been living in. The one where she was a Jedi. Surrounded by her friends. The people who cared for her. Everest. Colette. Klar. Valery. To name just a handful of people. In this imaginary world, Reina got to be the shining beacon she had always wanted to be. Lightsaber held aloft and the smiling faces. But this was also wrong. Reina was not a shining light in the life of anyone. She was no hero. No jedi. She had been told enough times that she couldn't be a real Jedi because she couldn't put her frustrations behind her. Her resentments. She couldn't forgive. And so this world was wrong.

So came the third and final world in her mind. The most simplest of them. The most normal of them. Because in this world, Reina...or should we say, Raini, was a normal girl. No experiences out at sea. No Force training. No. Instead she was just a student. Studying, with the aid of her family. Alexis, the ever-caring elder sister constantly hovering over Raini to make sure she wasn't struggling. It had everything she could have wanted. She felt happy. Content. She was who she was meant to be. But...there was one thing that proved how wrong it was. Whilst she could see Alexis clear as day, her parents had no face. She didn't know what they looked like. Who they were. And none of the worlds fit.

Nothing fit. Reina didn't fit into any of those worlds. Maybe, maybe if she had a more hopeful mindset, if she was more optimistic, she could have found a way to fit into all of them...but in this moment? Reina was dead to the living world. She was barely responsive to anything. She was just...in her own mind.​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"A war on the self."

Tags - Reina Daival



The alchemical matrix around the vat responded to her touch before she even raised her hand. A pulse of heat shimmered across the containment runes, like a heartbeat stirring beneath polished glass. Darth Virelia stood barefoot in the sanctum, haloed in deep violet light, as the glyphwork spiraled open across the tank's surface in silent reverence. The gel inside began to swirl—slow at first, then more deliberate, like fingers brushing hair from a sleeping face.

No more dreaming.

She stepped forward until her breath touched the transparisteel, hands folded neatly behind her back. Her expression was not cruel. Not cold. It was patient, focused, attentive. A lover waiting for her subject to see her again.

"You're hiding," she whispered.

It wasn't an accusation. There was no scorn in her tone. If anything, it sounded fond—a soft indulgence for something so fragile, so painfully human.

She tilted her head.

"You've been hiding in your little mirrors," she continued, her voice low and slow as gravity. "Reflections of the girl you thought you might become. The dutiful. The radiant. The protector."

One bare hand extended, fingertips barely grazing the tank. There was a sizzle of energy, a low spark that kissed the surface and crawled in curling lines of violet across the etched runes. The Force moved through her fingers like silk drawn across skin—intimate, thick with suggestion.

"But those girls were never you, Apprentice."

Her use of the title was deliberate. Gentle. Possessive. Not Reina. Not Jedi. Not title or posture or mask. Apprentice.

It vibrated through the fluid like a forbidden note—sweet, corrosive, undeniable.

Virelia inhaled as if tasting the flavor of the title on her tongue. Her voice dipped further.

"They were costumes. Apologies. Wards against the truth." She circled the tank slowly, robes brushing her skin like whispering hands, her bare footsteps echoing with soft inevitability. "And now you're here. Embracing the only truth that you could ever achieve. Mine."

She stopped on the other side of the vat, hands sliding down the cool glass again, framing Reina's floating form from either side. Her eyes softened, but there was no warmth. Only intent.

"And I will always love you."

A whisper of movement—her fingers twitched, and the seal at the top of the tank began to hiss open. The nutrient fluid rippled. Not draining. Not releasing. Just… shifting. Thinning.

Enough to let the world in.

Enough for her voice to pierce the dream.

"Open your eyes."

The command hung in the air like perfume, like a drug, like gravity. Soft. Seductive. Impossible to ignore. The chemicals in the tank themselves worked their magic into Reina's mind, making it seem like the only choice.

"You've drifted in illusions long enough. This one… is real. And I want you awake for it."

She raised her hands slowly, the Force coalescing around her palms in a slow pulse of black and violet—alchemical energy woven with predatory grace. It slithered through the tank like fingers beneath a veil, kissing nerves, brushing through brainwaves, tugging ever so gently on consciousness. Dominate Mind.

A slow, soft voice would continue to press on her.

Obey.

Again. Again. Again.

The light in the chamber shifted, dimming to a warm, carnal glow—like the hours just before dawn, when the air tasted like promises and breathless silence. The flora on the walls dimmed in turn, leaving the tank and its occupant the center of attention, like a jewel bathed in moonlight.

Virelia stepped closer again, her lips nearly brushing the transparisteel.

"I'm going to show you how to feel again, Apprentice. Not in pieces. Not through pain. Not through duty or sacrifice."

She tilted her head, eyes half-lidded, her voice now a velvet whisper across space and fluid.

"I'm going to teach you what pleasure feels like when it isn't hiding from guilt."

Her tongue darted briefly over her lower lip, catching the edge of a smile. Not a grin. Not cruel. Just aware. Certain.

"You think this is captivity," she continued, tone musing. "But it's not. This is an answer to the question you were too broken to ask."

She rested her palm flat against the tank, and where she touched, the runes lit with soft violet. The sensation would pass through, translated into sensation—faint warmth where cold had reigned. A gentle pressure across the small of the back. A tickle of awareness behind the eyes. Soft, disarming touches where nothing had been allowed to touch in so long.

"And I. Will never. Ever. Abandon you."

Only enough to remind the body that it was still there. That Virelia would care for her, unlike every other being in this wretched galaxy.

"I won't hurt you," she said again, not a lie—because she didn't need to lie. "I will enhance you, I will make you perfect and I will make sure you are never ignored again. This is what you already want, even if you're too afraid to know it."

Another pause. A soft breath. A smile like dusk settling over the sea.

"You belong to me now, little shield. But not as a trophy. Not as a broken thing."

Her voice dropped to a purr, curling into every syllable.

"You're going to thrive in my hands."

Then she withdrew her touch, letting the energy slowly recede. She stepped back from the vat, gaze unwavering, posture relaxed—perfect control wrapped in flowing silk and bare skin and total, sovereign presence.

Virelia turned her back and walked toward the control altar. Her robes whispered against the stone like old prayers.

"Isn't that right, apprentice?" she said, not looking back.

A slow, soft voice would continue to press on her.

Obey.

Again. Again. Again.

 

[Reina Daival]

Tags: Darth Virelia

There was...no response. No visual response to the words. Not even any form of brain stimulation. The chemicals may have been trying to find their way into Reina's mind...but it was almost as if it wasn't there. As if it had shutdown everything it had needed to, to act as the ultimate defense. A defensive mirror in a way. Reflected inwards, reflecting all of the different lives Reina could have lived to herself, whilst reflecting back to Virelia, nothing but the darkness that laid inside of her. It would not crack. It would not break. For it was just the state Reina was.

The command to open her eyes came...and was near enough reflected back at Virelia. Was it some kind of tuant? A statement for the Darth to open her own eyes? Of course, it could be taken that way...but if anything, it was just the command bouncing back off Reina. There was no intention to it. It was just reactive. Reflexes. The only part of her that still worked right now, whilst everything else had shut down. She had no need to see in this moment. No need to even hear. All she had to do was hide. In the furthest reaches of her own mind, that she didn't even know about.

Even as the voice continued to press against the mirror, continued to bounce off it, Reina didn't respond. She didn't stir. The closest thing her state could be connected to would be that of the hibernation trance. To most, she would have appeared as being dead, though of course Virelia would know otherwise. For not even the faux-attempt at death would be able to save Reina from the Sith's gaze.

Not a single response came from Reina. Not at the comment about being an apprentice. About being ignored. Because...there was no-one to respond. Not in this moment. It was one final attempt for Reina's mind to defend itself. Shut down from all external and even internal stimuli. It would stay in this state for as long as it needed. For as long as it felt as if Reina was in danger, her mind would not open up. Not to anyone. Not even Reina herself. For all intents and purposes, Reina died on Tattooine. Her body just refused to acknowledge it.​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"A war on the self."

Tags - Reina Daival



Dead.

But not dead enough.

Darth Virelia stood with her back to the tank, the altar's low-lit console reflecting faint amber lines across her exposed arms. She didn't look at Reina, not this time. The chamber responded to her presence—bioluminescent glyphs pulsing like a held breath, machinery thrumming at the edge of sound, the very air waiting for instruction.

She lifted her hand and pressed her palm flat to the altar.

The tank behind her shifted. A deep, slow exhale of steam coiled into the sanctum. No sudden rush. No panic. Just inevitability in motion.

Protocol I: Extraction.

"Vital functions nominal," came the soft voice of the system, half-AI, half-alchemically tuned Force symbiote. "Cognitive activity: static."
A pause. Then, almost admiring:
"Shielding is organic. Rooted in dissociative trauma. Beautifully constructed."

Of course it was.

Virelia smiled.

The tank's internal matrix shimmered as the Force-synced interrogation suite came online. This was refinement.

It didn't try to tear through Reina's mind. It listened to it.

The way a symphony listens to silence for rhythm.

"You buried yourself beautifully, Apprentice," Virelia said at last, turning back to face the tank. Her tone was almost affectionate. "But I don't need your permission to know you."

She reached out, pressing a single finger to one of the floating holospheres now orbiting the altar. The sphere rippled, projecting fragments of memory as resonance—frequencies of the Force encoded in memory-thread logic.

The chamber lit with whispers, all those whispers Virelia could take.

Each was a line of code in the neural lattice that was Reina's mind.

Virelia moved through them like an artist sculpting smoke.

The Force was not simply power—it was structure. A map. And Virelia had spent years learning how to read its grammar in others. She didn't need to break Reina to see her. She only needed to understand the rhythm of her silence.

And that rhythm was aching.

She accessed the memory strata slowly, calling to the fragments that Reina had discarded but not destroyed. There were no names. No screams. Just emotional signatures.

Memories untethered from context.

Data unmoored from will. And Virelia catalogued it.

This was research.

She would know everything Reina knew: hyperspace lanes, security clearances, Jedi outposts, informant networks, secret histories, weapon patterns, passwords. The friends she would die for. The ones she'd already forgotten. The weak links.

The parts of Reina that still believed in something.

"None of this is for you," Virelia murmured, speaking now to the body floating gently in the golden fluid. "This isn't about your redemption. Not yet. This is about your utility."

Her hand moved again, summoning a second sphere. This one pulsed red.

It was colder. Rougher. The Force-memory of combat. Kill-switches. Defensive programming. A map of the pain she'd taken and the pain she'd given. Lightsaber forms half-mastered. The angle of her blaster grip. A scream from a mission. Blood on concrete.

Virelia closed her eyes, letting the sound wash over her.

Information was intimacy.

"Your mind has already surrendered, even if you haven't," she whispered.

She stepped away from the altar and returned to the tank. Her fingers brushed the surface with reverent care, as if to thank Reina for the knowledge she would never knowingly give.

"You will never be alone again, Apprentice," she breathed, violet eyes flickering with something deeper than lust—ownership. "Even in your silence, you speak to me."

The protocols would run for hours, days if needed.

She could wait.

After all, this was only the beginning.

 

[Reina Daival]

Tags: Darth Virelia

It was hard to pry into a mind which was barely functional. Broken. Hanging on by a single thread. A single ounce of hope. Hard, but not impossible. Not everything would be able to be gathered. Reina wasn't a pilot, she didn't understand hyperspace lines. Security clearances for the GA and Jedi would have been easy to somewhat get all being said. Most of what wasn't personal information was easy to get access to. Places she had mostly recently been to flowed from her mind, even if it wasn't anywhere special. Tattooine. Tython. Coruscant. Just large orbs showing up in her mind, with no words, sounds or explanations coming to them.

The pain was easily mapped. Everything Reina had went through. It was basically over her entire body. Every single blaster bolt she had taken. Every broken bone. Every cut from her childhood. None of that was kept secret. Why would it be? Reina wore her pain on her sleeve. It was visible, even when she tried to hide it. All of the pain that was nestled inside of her. It was always seen physically. The instincts that always pushed her forward. It was easily recorded...

But what wasn't so easily recorded was anything personal. Memories. Friends. Family. Loved ones. Each time it tried to get access to one of those, it would just be met with something. A phrase. An image. For memories? It was just a simple flash of the sea. Over and over again. No words. No sounds. Just the sea. For Friends? It was just Reina's voice repeating, over and over again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Endlessly recorded down. The same could be said for her family...except the voice was softer. Sweeter. More child-like. Not harmed by any of the events that would come to it...

"Mama...Mama...Papa...Papa...Mama...Mama...Papa...Papa"

And then finally, whenever it tried to get accessed to the people that Reina loved...

"They deserve better...They deserve better...They deserve better..."

It would all repeat over and over again. The only memory that Serina was allowed access to...was that of Reina decided vengeance was no longer worth it. After the discussion Reina and Valery had. That anger wasn't worth it. A blind obsession would only lead Reina to an early grave...and so she had given up on an obsession for vengeance​