Clipped Wings

[Hazel Zanteres]

Hazel mused on Kaine's response for a moment, reminding herself of a more cynical view view on war. Of the grunts being thrown into the fire without thought. Those that had no importance were not determined to survive every battlefield they were deployed on. And yet, why had fate been cruel enough to tear her brothers in arms away from her.

Could've she have saved them if she had this power beneath her fingertips?

Had the Jedi's teaching stifled her potential, right from the get go?

All interesting questions...one's the Hapan was intending to find answers to in the near future.

"Yes, it's quite wonderful indeed." Her tone said otherwise however, that it felt beyond simply that. "I feel strong and not just in the Force, but in mind and body as well."

Power hummed beneath her skin, having replaced the decaying core that the Light and disease had slowly eroded over the years.

"There's clarity far beyond what the Jedi provided, in their deceptive fog smog they use to manipulate."

Hazel walked towards one of the servants, but paused when it finally dawned on her that she was still bare, with the blue runic symbols still painted across her skin.

"Ah, I suppose I should get dressed." She chuckled, sounding rather nonchalant about her state of undress. If anything, her Hapan genes were preening at the perfection now that the scars were gone. Hazel strode over to where she had piled her clothes up, slowly getting dressed and eventually looking back over at Kaine.

"So, now what?"

[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"First I call a cleaning crew to remove the bodies and fix the transparisteel, then you decide what you're going to do with the new life I helped give you."

He strode over to the communicator mounted on the wall next to the door, one finger depressing the large red button located at the bottom of the device. The speaker garbled static, "Corpse Retrieval to Room 507." It spoke volumes that the Dark Lord had a dedicated corpse retrieval team at his beck and call, but who knows how many times they had been called to remove the leftover scraps of his brutality. He decompressed the button to hear another voice waft through the metal grill, and turned away once confirmation had been given.

"I can offer you room and bed if you so desire, to acquaint yourself with your newfound power until you're ready to depart. Or I can gift you a ship and see you on your way to wherever in the galaxy you wish to tread. It is up to you, Doctor Hazel Zanteres."

The door opened and a trio of men in black armor and clamshell helmets entered the room, an extendable hover-gurney held in their hands as they moved about to drag and load up as many bodies as they could onto one of the gurneys. They worked without saying a word, only grunting with exertion everytime they hoisted a body up onto the pile. Then they left as quickly as they came with only smeared blood to denote that there had even been a collection of bodies around the operation table.

That too would soon be dealt with, but only after the current company had departed.

[member="Hazel Zanteres"]​

 

[Hazel Zanteres]

Amusement flashed across Hazel's expression, of course someone like Kaine had a cleaning crew ready to answer his beck and call. She imagined they were a frequent requirement, whether it was here or down on the dungeons the Palace no doubt had.

There was a reason why the Dark Lord had the title of 'Butcher' after all.

She thought on the offer given to her - to stay or to leave? The first had a lot of merit, especially because it meant she could learn more about her powers and abilities. What better place for that than on the capital planet of The Sith Empire, residing within the domain of their Dark Lord. But Hazel was quickly reminded of where exactly she had been going before Kaine's men had 'picked her up'. She had an appointment to make, one that was albeit two days late at this point.

Although the loss of time didn't really matter, as nothing could really be started unless the Hapan was there - being the sole purpose behind it. Now though Hazel was confident about the procedure, that she could survive it. There was no longer a disease looming over her head, but it also meant a big part of it was now pointless.

Did she still feel like she needed to go through it?

Yes, Hazel did.

"I will take the offer of a ship, as there is somewhere I'm needed."

[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Very well. It has been a pleasure, Doctor Zanteres."

An escort would be called for the now cured Doctor, a pair of dark-plated guards waiting outside of the chamber; both silent as stone. They would lead her away from the medical wing, this time the Dark Lord not following her as she was ushered out of his palace. They'd take her to a small hangar bay facing the North side of Ravelin where several ships sat docked, refueling or being worked on by soot-faced maintenance workers and engineers.

The guards would take her to one ship, an Omicron-class Imperial Shuttle. These kind of shuttles were a staple among the Sith-Imperial officer corps, and could be seen as regularly as the octagonal TIE fighters that often escorted them from location to location.

Once she had boarded the guards would retreat back into the sanctity of the Palace, leaving Hazel to plot her own course.

And face her new destiny.

[member="Hazel Zanteres"]​