Curse Me Good

[Jairus Starvald]

U N K N O W N | R E G I O N S​

K A Y R I | III​

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[member="The Slave"]​

​

This was about two days after the initial auction.

It was anyone's guess why Cerbera's interest had been piqued by this slave named Slave. It could have been as simple as morbid curiosity, the distinct desire to have an actual lab assistant or perhaps it was his connection to one [member="Irajah Ven"] that made her head turn the most. After all, it was the same woman she was supposed to save through the request of one of her associates. Perhaps it was a favor to Raj then, but few knew Cerbera to be in any favorable moods.

The ship with the slave did not land at the usual place she resided. A measure of care needed to be established, because of the interest of certain parties - it still confused her why one slave had gathered so much desire from so many people.

Forty million credits? Insanity.

But that was why the Sith Lord had offered something else of value, because no matter how amusing this play would be... forty million credits seemed a bit much.

The shuttle reversed from hyperspace several times. Each time the man was moved to a different ship through her connections with the Vahla fleet and assorted friends, after all, even if this wasn't her place of consistent living... she wasn't interested in having a fleet barrel down on her.

Just to recover this one.

The latest shuttle landed easily on the landing pad of a nondescript planet. There was jungle all around, but the facility was all metal and duracrete and held nature at bay.

It was there that the Slave would disembark.

Cerbera was already studying the shuttle he had arrived on with curiosity.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Forty thousand, eight hundred and thirty two… thirty three… thirty four…

A rhythmic count kept its pace in The Slave’s mind, keeping its monotonous pace in tune with his heart beat. It was one to maintain some semblance of calmness, his form of meditation; a technique he had mastered over the years of anger bouts and poor mental stability he had suffered through. Today was no different, with the veering thoughts of a new master and the scrupulous transportation he had been taken under to get to this indiscriminate location.

With fingers wound against each other, only the cold durasteel cuffs kept his wrists from touching. Eyes closed, he didn’t care to see the ship he was in; only listening to the incessant cries of the infinitely humming ion engines that carried through a threat to disrupt everything he had built with Imperia. They came with the message of obedience, with it the package that was him; no matter how much he detested the thought.

Though this was the course he had taken many times before. He was an unruly character, often far too much for a singular slave holder to maintain for long; most usually getting what they could out of him before sending him off to the next before his outbursts became too much and one of the two ended up six feet under, or floating amidst the vacuum of space.

Soft chatter emanated from the cockpit, obviously a sign they were where they needed to be. Two guards stood from their seated positions as the shuttle came to its landing, one of them pressing a button that forced the energy cage he was in to lift and began to follow. As the seal of the door hissed and opened, light flooded into the once artificially lit cabin and offered The Slave the first glimpse of his new home.

A jungle? Disappointing.

Exhale, he thought to himself, breath and listen.

A habit he’d come to know well.

The cage floated to the figure in the distance first, and as they neared her cloaked demeanor the first guard spoke before the other;

“I’ll need you to sign for this.”, he said in a slightly mocking voice, only to get a quick and annoyed glance from the other who brought the slave to its destination.

│ [member="Cerbera"] │

 

[Jairus Starvald]

The green-skinned lady studied the first mocking guard with an eyed precision that spoke of predatoration and animalistic hunger for an excuse, any excuse to unshackle herself from the bounds of civility and take him for herself. After all, there was always another body to be used for her experiments.

They never lasted very long.

"Thank you." She whispered and her hand waved itself in the air.

In response two things happened: the initials of her handwriting burned itself into the lettering and they duplicated themselves on the helmet guard of the mocker. It sizzled there for a brief moment, before a toothy grin escaped blood-red lips.

"Run along now, darling, run along."

A shooing gesture was made with her hands and the guards practically leaped for the chance to escape.

For a brief moment Cerbera's attention stayed with them. Their retreating backs, all the way back towards the ship, where the ramp closed behind them and the shuttle left in haste.

"Darling," Her attention shifted to [member="The Slave"] now. "It is my understanding you are quite the handful, aren't you."

"Sounds like fun, follow please."

Already turned the Sith moved away from the landing site and towards her own ship resting on the other side. It was a gleaming piece of tech. Pretty, sharp angles all around and fast by the looks of it. Also capable of stealth-travel, if the mood hit her to do some silent exploring.

"What do you call yourself then, darling?"

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The cage he was bound in whirred life as she began to move, its rudimentary AI understanding who it was meant to follow enough so that the small drives that kept her afloat kept her in constant motion. The Slave however, moved little, and as she spoke about what she had heard, he only made a quiet snarl.

“What do you call yourself then, darling?”, a question he had heard a few too many times.

Unfortunately for her, and him perhaps, there simply wasn’t an answer to be had. He was nothing more than property, and for the two decades he had been alive, nobody sought it fit to hand him a name; only a terror filled moniker those who knew little about him passed off as some sort of pseudonym.

“I don’t.”, he said quietly, even though his heart tried to speak coldly. As much as he wanted to, the sub dominance he held against his masters was something ingrained in him far too deeply to just shrug off in a moments notice. It’d soon become apparent to Cerbera to just what extent that might apply.

“Never deserved one.”, he said as the cage moved onto the vessel’s docking ramp and into the first of many rooms it held.

│ @Cerbera │

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="The Slave"]

"Tsk, that won't do, darling." Cerbera waggled a finger at the figure inside the cage. "Referring to my lab-assistant as The Slave isn't very civilized or dignified."

Lips pursed in thought as the ramp of the ship drew itself in and left the ship closed off from the outer world. Didn't take long before a shudder reeled through the hull, signifying their departure. Automated processes ensured that Cerbera didn't need to be piloting the ship for it to move about on its own.

"How about Dorian? Do you like that name, darling?"

She settled herself down in a chair in front of the cage, eyeing the young lad while pondering about it. "Or maybe you are more of a John. Desmond? Franklin..."

"Hmm."

It was difficult to simply come up with a name that fit, especially just trying to wiggle it out of your sleeve. But it seemed silly to refer to yourself as 'The Slave', sure, his occupation was currently being a slave. That didn't mean it had to account for the entirety of his identity.

"Steven?"

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Speaking from his imprisonment, what some might consider a cruel aspect for the sentient, he offered his words in a slightly dulled response; perhaps to hide any emotion he might have felt at the time, but the words came back to back without hesitation.

“I’ve been called Tai after a cocky bird before.”, he said shrugging slightly as he looked up to Cerbera from his cross legged position.

“I’ve also been called John. As in John Doe.”

In truth, both of the names weren’t exactly his favorite, but he’d been called worse. It wasn’t his choice to be referred to as ‘The Slave’, but it seemed to fit depending on who was speaking about him. Depending on the part of space, it also carried different connotations.

For instance in Dominion space, or what was left of it, it was the nickname of a domestic terrorist that nearly caused the outright collapse of their entire empire. Some even called him Rundas, whatever that meant; but at the end of the day he simply never accepted anything anyone had ever called him. Somehow, someway, over the years of negligence to treat him as anything but property he took it to heart, and declared himself something that needed to earn his name.

Perhaps many were simply given one, or adopted it themselves, but to him it meant something. A name was not something he’d simply go by unless he cared for it; as an extension of himself. Not something he took lightly, it would seem.

│ @Cerbera │

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="The Slave"]

"No, you are Dorian now." Cerbera stated with a firm nod. "It fits you, darling, and everyone needs a name."

What would they do without names?

Possibly still cling to the shadows of society, digging in the dirt and fighting with sticks, while shouting ugg, ugg, ugg. At least something similar to that silliness. But Cerbera had little time for that and equally little time to brush the new guy's feelings, when they were discussing one thing or another.

"I can smell the Force on you, how is it that you are still captive to the whims of others?" Lessers, at least until Cerby had bought him, but there was something about this one.

It tasted of deceit.

Strange, very strange, even as submissive and orderly Dorian seemed?

There was something that the young lad was hiding from her. Maybe not even from her, but from everyone that knew him. It didn't make her concerned, though, merely interested.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Dorian?

The Slave offered her a measured glance, a cocked eyebrow, and a passively sarcastic comment after a moment’s silence.

“Dorian? Do you already have a collar with it stitched into the leather or something?”

With that, he readjusted in the confined cage, letting his crossed legs switch dominance as the door behind them closed. Using his hand, he propped up his chin as he continued to watch his new master fuss about the ship in various levels of vain and feigned interest. He supposed he didn’t care what she called him, so long as she was at least interesting.

But what was up with all this ‘Darling’ poodoo? There was a faint disturbance about it; something that made him feel uneasy. Well, as uneasy as he ever seemed to feel he supposed.

“How is it that you are still captive to the whims of others?”, she asked, breaking his train of thought.

Without missing a beat, he simply shrugged with a mumbled ‘Idunno’. Though, perhaps the answer was a bit more convoluted than that; one that likely stretched back to a boy forced into multiple levels of dissociation. Afterall, modern slaves were mentally destroyed and rebuilt in the image of what they were meant to be; and he was no different.

At the end of the day, when he wasn’t a simple tool, he was a piece of art. Something the rich and poor alike could perhaps look upon and realize the beauty that came in his carefully crafted stylings. From the hand picked jawline, to the forged curl in his lips, almost everything about him was synthetic. Made for someone else.

Even the deceit she considered wasn’t something he probably understood. In truth, he was deceitful even from himself; locking much of who he was and is away behind layers of protective mental barriers.


│ @Cerbera │

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="The Slave"]

Cerbera looked up from her musings with something suggesting interest at the mention of collars.

"Ooo, would you like a collar, darling?" Her finely-shaped hands rubbed against one another in apparent glee at the thought. Though it was more about the art of crafting the thing than the actual locking around his thin, graceful neck that pleased her. What kind of things could she do with the collar to make things interesting?

There were opportunities here.

"At any rate- I have little in the way of opinion when it comes to slavery." A light shrug of the shoulders. "I won't deny the pleasure to others, even as I find it quite useless for myself."

After all... slavery rarely inspired loyalty or competence.

"Tell me this, darling, what would you do to earn your complete freedom?"

 

[Darth Empyrean]

"I.... I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time.”, he said with a faint confusion. His comment was rhetorical, and she took it as serious without missing a beat. It disheartened, if only for a moment, before the ever passive nature that he embodied took the forefront of the situation once more.

And then another curveball, straight from the left that dug its way into his side like a knife. Not out of pain, but the pressure he could feel within him made his heart skip a beat and consider just what she said.

“Freedom?”, he repeated.

“I’ve never actually been offered it before. I uh… Couldn’t say I suppose.”, he said idly.

In truth, he had tried to escape when he was young, but the subsequent floggings and punishment he received did well to stop the thought from coming back; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t just leave most of his masters on his own. He was far from the conventional type of slave most moved to acquire, so there was a faint mystery as to why he just never up and left in one of the numerous voyages he made without his would be masters.

Though the thought came to him, just what would it mean to be free? What would he even do with it? Would he survive?

│ @Cerbera │

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="The Slave"]

Brows furrowed to confusion and then disappointment.

It did not seem as if the lad enjoyed collars, but why bring them up in the first place then? Had it been 'sarcasm', the tool and attribute of fools who thought it made them sound clever? A possibility, certainly, but it seemed a strange way of ensuring his safety while being subjected to the whims of the other.

Not that Cerbera knew what it meant to be a slave.

Oh, as a former clone she had always been subjected to torment of one kind, but it was nothing like being a slave. Truly a horrid experience if anyone asked her.

"Darling, before we can go further I need to know what you would do. Think... think very hard." One leg crossed the other, fine chin settling itself on waiting knuckles as she studied him. "Would you lie? Steal? Would you kill? Would you torture and enslave?"

Mmmhm.

"What would you do to never be subjected to the torment you have known for so many years?"

 

[Darth Empyrean]

He already did all of those things. Though, as the thought came more clear by the second, he offered her a slight grin as he responded;

“I suppose I would.”, he mused.

“I suppose I’d do anything.”

So he said at least, but he didn’t quite understand just what anything could mean. He was, despite all the power in body, nothing more than an immature little boy; forever at the whim of the tides of others ambitions. Given the chance at his own for the first time in his life, it couldn’t be said just how he might react, or where he’d go with it if given the chance.

│ @Cerbera │

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="The Slave"]

It was then that Cerbera saw just how young this one was.

Immediately the memories flooded in of a younger self, of a young girl trying to find her way in the Galaxy, before being picked up and taught by the three greatest alchemists this Galaxy had known in centuries. It hadn't been a single moment that defined her, instead a whole host of little decisions and moments that put her on a path... that ran through here, right this instant.

"Oh? Anything?" Her head tilted, insectoid, unnatural, too quick with a snap almost. "Would you torture and kill the ones you love, if it meant freedom, if it meant becoming strong and independent?"

Who did this lad care about the most?

Was it himself? Was he selfish enough to do truly anything, as long as it meant that he'd never have to suffer the treatment he had been going through for years?

Cerbera didn't think that even the Slave knew that for sure.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“Anything Cerbera.”

He said with a tinge of annoyance plastered amongst his words.

In truth, he didn’t understand what she meant. He didn’t think in the moment he could, or would care about anyone, but it was the idle pragmatism held tight in his child like heart; something that wasn’t so easily broken when you’re so dense. Still, he broke a slight grin and offered it to her;

“And here I thought you knew what that meant.”

│ @Cerbera │

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="The Slave"]

"It is your understanding I am worried about, darling." Cerbera responded cryptically before shrugging and raising herself from the seat itself.

Fingers snapped and the cage sprang open.

"Come on out then, we have much work to do."

Presumably he would follow and they would enter a different part of the cargo bay. This one was filled to the brink with some strange material, the moment they had entered the room he would notice it. Even if he wasn't a trained forcer perse, he would notice his senses suddenly getting dulled.

"This is Void Stone." They had left one of three planets, where Cerbera had a low-key mining operation for it. Though mining was a generous word for it.

More like a gathering slash excavation mission.

"Have you ever heard of it?"

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave’s density knew no bounds as he let the words she spoke ride past him. With the click of a cage, he was more concerned about stretching his cramping muscles and getting a chance to size her up without him sitting; and so he did, walking with her and checking out what he could of her form, even her shape. It seemed his libido also knew no bounds.

Yet, as his attention was dragged from her rear to the material she pointed at there swept over him like static a faint headache that formed in his mind. It wasn’t something he had felt before, not in its most rudimentary sense, but he could feel the disconnect like a cancer growing in his brain. There was something off about it, even more so than any normal person would feel; one that made him feel empty in ways that perhaps even Cerbera didn’t understand.

The aura that usually dragged its black and malignant formless body behind him dissipated almost instantly as they came into full presence of the Void Stone. Whatever sickness that it was, found itself disrupted near this and it fought against The Slave more than he would care to admit.

“I uh…”, he said as he attempted to maintain focus, “I haven’t, no.”

│ [member="Cerbera"] │