Derisive Umbaran
HYPERSPACE
THE MACHINATOR
[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]
Bzzt.
The sound of the cattle prod cackling with electricity would probably arouse Jemmila from her slumber a microsecond before it actually poked her in the neck, giving her a harsh jolt of electricity to start her day. Fortunately it was on the lowest setting. While it may have looked like otherwise, no one present wanted her dead. The idea was to anger her as much as possible, as an inordinate amount of hatred is always useful for training in the Dark Side. The lights in her stateroom would suddenly blare, rather harshly, and allow her to see both of the rather intimidating TA4 Ultra Battle Droids on either side of her bed. One, of course, was holding the cattle prod in question. Both of them lorded silently over the woman, red photoreceptors glowing ominously.
Already, several TA1s were busying themselves hosting up the furniture and other lavish decorations of her stateroom and taking them outside. Nothing was spared. Rugs, lamps, blankets- everything that wasn't nailed down was swept away by cold, metallic hands. Darth Adekos himself wasn't present, but a TA3 Tactical Droid by the designation TD-18 entered the room shortly there after. Luckily for Jemmila, TD-18 came bearing gifts; replacements for the things she had lost. Or, more accurately, replacement. A rather uncomfortable sleeping bad was rolled up and cradled under his shoulder. In his other hand, a tin can with the logo of the One Sith stamped into the side, as well as a can opener and fork. A stark contrast to whatever dinner she had ordered previously before going to bed.
Unceremoniously, TD-18 dropped the bedroll at the foot of the bed.
"You are to report to Lord Adekos' in thirty standard minutes."
He tossed the can at her. Underhanded, naturally.
"Consume your breakfast, dress yourself appropriately." TD-18's head turned to direct her gaze to a bland grey jumpsuit that had taken the place of a painting. It already looked like it was too large for her. He fixed his photoreceptors back on Jemmila. "These droids will escort you to him once you are ready... Or the allotted time has passed."
Having no further purpose in being there, TD-18 deposited the cutlery he had brought with him and exited the room. The TA4s followed, albeit they remained just outside her door. After a few more minutes, the remaining TA1s left as well. Presumably they would return for the bed while she was gone.
THE MACHINATOR
[member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]
Bzzt.
The sound of the cattle prod cackling with electricity would probably arouse Jemmila from her slumber a microsecond before it actually poked her in the neck, giving her a harsh jolt of electricity to start her day. Fortunately it was on the lowest setting. While it may have looked like otherwise, no one present wanted her dead. The idea was to anger her as much as possible, as an inordinate amount of hatred is always useful for training in the Dark Side. The lights in her stateroom would suddenly blare, rather harshly, and allow her to see both of the rather intimidating TA4 Ultra Battle Droids on either side of her bed. One, of course, was holding the cattle prod in question. Both of them lorded silently over the woman, red photoreceptors glowing ominously.
Already, several TA1s were busying themselves hosting up the furniture and other lavish decorations of her stateroom and taking them outside. Nothing was spared. Rugs, lamps, blankets- everything that wasn't nailed down was swept away by cold, metallic hands. Darth Adekos himself wasn't present, but a TA3 Tactical Droid by the designation TD-18 entered the room shortly there after. Luckily for Jemmila, TD-18 came bearing gifts; replacements for the things she had lost. Or, more accurately, replacement. A rather uncomfortable sleeping bad was rolled up and cradled under his shoulder. In his other hand, a tin can with the logo of the One Sith stamped into the side, as well as a can opener and fork. A stark contrast to whatever dinner she had ordered previously before going to bed.
Unceremoniously, TD-18 dropped the bedroll at the foot of the bed.
"You are to report to Lord Adekos' in thirty standard minutes."
He tossed the can at her. Underhanded, naturally.
"Consume your breakfast, dress yourself appropriately." TD-18's head turned to direct her gaze to a bland grey jumpsuit that had taken the place of a painting. It already looked like it was too large for her. He fixed his photoreceptors back on Jemmila. "These droids will escort you to him once you are ready... Or the allotted time has passed."
Having no further purpose in being there, TD-18 deposited the cutlery he had brought with him and exited the room. The TA4s followed, albeit they remained just outside her door. After a few more minutes, the remaining TA1s left as well. Presumably they would return for the bed while she was gone.