Deeper into the Abyss

[Cameron Centurion]

Jungles of Virgillia
Near Bastion of Ren

Dressed simply in a pair of black pants, the large Sith Lord was in a state of comfort representative of his earlier life. Since relocating to Dosuun as a nominal member of the aristocracy, Cameron had adopted more traditional styles of dress. Every sentient in the galaxy wore some sort of mask, it was not just the Knights of Ren, whom maintained a base of operations nearby. A business suit was merely a less provocative form of a cloak and mask.

As such, Cameron relished the ability to shed his mask from time to time. Besides, the reality of Virgillia meant it was not really frequented by the vast majority of the First Order. Those that did have purpose here, seemed to somewhat rarely leave the confines of the Bastion. It wasn't exactly a new trend among the various initiates of the galaxy, but it remained a disturbing one to Cameron. They were so focused on their specific powers, spells, and lightsaber forms. It was all a bunch of bull. Knowledge without experience was simply wasted time.

Still...he had to say he was impressed with how wide Sieger's little experiment had gone. A man that Cameron had known, unable to maintain with the tenants of the Sith. He was not alone in that reality...there were so many that had left the fold too soon to try their hand at running their own government, own society. Cameron had made the mistake in his youth...in the days before he'd all but completely abandoned the foolish notion of supreme control over anything. His time with the Crusade had proven to him that the hearts and minds of sentients were so easily won. The challenge, the intrigue was in playing the king maker, enabling the success and failures of others. Sieger Ren would fall to his own self-assured superiority before long, but it would not be Cameron's hand that ended his former associate's reign.

Cameron Centurion was content existing to merely...bridge the gap... The gap between Sieger's noble intentions and the reality of power, strength. Closing his eyes, the Sith Lord slipped into another round of meditation, allowing the full weight of his presence to expand throughout the Force. As it infused the life of every living organism around him, the Sith Lord inhaled and exhaled steadily, the arcane tattoos on his exposed chest shifting with the flow of his presence.

[member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

Strangely enough, her anger was nowhere to be found during physical exercise. Put to work and made productive, as some would say. Through sweat and exhaustion that returned each morning with iron regularity, Zmej Ren maintained exceptional fitness while keeping idleness away. After all, the Supreme Leader demanded the very best from his elite agents. The freshly knighted Ren intended to deliver, devoted to steeling her form in accordance with the ideals of aesthetic beauty. A healthy mind in a healthy body – the motto was an inseparable part of her life. Not a bad one, either. The First Order needed soldiers, warriors. Heavily promoting physical exercise went hand in hand with military service. As such, Zmej’s morning activity was nothing out of the ordinary. Every citizen was expected to look after their health, providing an endless supply of manpower for the unstoppable war machine. A healthy society upholding traditional values and preaching unity – charming, yet pragmatic to the very core.

Heavy panting continued to leave her mouth in a perfect rhythm as the young woman’s jog continued to carry her through Virgillia’s beautiful, wild landscape. No armour encased the pale blonde’s form, marking her perfectly organised training schedule one of the rare times she could be spotted wearing ordinary garment. Instead of solid phrik and impervium plates coating her from head to toe, far simpler apparel clothed her body; running shoes, tight leggings, and finally a jacket bearing the stylish combination of red and black. Nothing marked her as a knight of Ren except for the sulphur-hued eyes traditionally associated with dark side users and a cross-shaped lightsaber furiously dangling on her belt like an animal that wishes to be set free. True, in a way – Zmej had enslaved the Kyber crystal within, binding it to her will through hatred. The obedient slave played no other role in its master’s runs than ensuring her safety. After all, many wild animals roamed the jungles, and even though must have completed her usual course hundreds of times without encountering a hostile lifeform, she would never brave the wilderness unarmed.

Finding another dark side-inclined being on her way presented nothing unusual, and yet the pale blonde regarded him with an inquisitive look as she neared his position. The Ren were not all that big, nowhere near the vast numbers of Jedi and Sith when their respective orders ruled the galaxy, and thus Zmej knew many faces. His was not among them despite the many missions she had carried out alongside her brothers and sisters in faith. Thoughts of spies and Alliance agents flooded the knight’s mind, quick to remind Zmej numerous beings versed in the dark side worked for the hated enemy. Without ruining her flawless rhythm, the teenage Ren mentally readied herself, prepared to summon her lightsaber and fight should it prove necessary. Slowing her pace, but not stopping, Zmej put on a pleasant, if somewhat tired smile, albeit the sickly yellow sight spelled deceit and only a handful of souls would remain calm when the dark side itself painted her gaze.

“Tired? Such a strong, big man – move it or you’ll be beaten by a girl.”

And she continued to run past him, picking up the pace again in a friendly dare she could not lose.



[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

The arrival of the diminutive blonde was not a surprise to the Sith Lord. Even if he hadn't been so immersed into the Force, he probably could have shot the girl in the dark. This was not an indication of a lack of physical fitness on her part, it was simply the reality of nature. It was hard, near impossible to traverse any sort of wilderness one was not a part of without alerting those indigenous to the environment. The seated Sith Lord did not claim to be indigenous to such despite his upbringing in the wild so long ago.

However, Cameron certainly did have a thorough understanding of reading the environment and the subtle changes of its lifeforms to alert him to even the most subtle of changes. This understanding came at the hands of countless attacks and even more failures on Onderon under Quietus' semi-infrequent tutelage. The lack of regularity could only blamed on his youth at the time and therefore lack of ability to focus on...the non-physical appeals of their interaction.

As soon as [member="Zmej Ren"] approached in earnest, Cameron allowed his eyes to open slowly. Silver-green orbs swept over the rapidly approaching form with detached interest, curiosity rather firmly vested in evaluation of her presence with respect to potential threat rather than attraction. The taunt that drifted from her lips, however, caused him to arch a curious brow.

Without moving from his seated position, the Sith Lord allowed his deep voice to drift out across the forest floor, seeping into the undercurrent of the Force that permeated every living organism around them both. The resultant effect was the crushing weight of his own presence forcefully assaulting her mind. It was not a directed attack, merely a reality of the Sith Lord's current enhanced connection to the Force.

"You must be a Ren. A follower of a methodology created by a man that couldn't succeed in the halls of power he so craved to belong to."
"You must be a Ren. A follower of a methodology created by a man that couldn't succeed in the halls of power he so craved to belong to."

Cameron had been beaten by male and female alike. Human and non-human. An entity that never tried and failed, never truly learned to reach their full potential. The key was to constantly seek the best version of yourself through increasing challenge and steady conflict. There were precious few that chose to challenge themselves in all aspects of life, far too many thought that martial prowess was all that mattered. A warrior, a true warrior was well-versed in all aspects of society, their entire being a finely tuned weapon.

With a thin smile that Zmej would not be able to see, Cameron allowed his eyes to close once more. The young woman's challenge was not ignored. Though their contest would not survive the next ten seconds. As the pressure of the Force around them intensified severely, the sounds of wildlife seemed to erupt as the air around the Sith Lord's body contorted for a few moments. In an instant, everything returned to normal as a loud crack reverberated throughout the forest floor.

In front of her eyes, Zmej would register a man-sized explosion of white-blue energy as the large form of the man she had just passed appeared less than four feet in front of her, raising a single hand to let loose a strong, repulsive blast of energy intended to stop her in her tracks.

"You have neither the knowledge nor strength to succeed in your issued challenge, Ren," was the only comment Cameron would make if the simple action had the desired effect.

 

[Zmej Ren]

Finally, there was a slight stumble in the Ren’s perfect jog. Nothing serious, and yet an indicator her healthy morning run was about to come to a halt.

His voice crashed against her mind and the instinctive reaction was to drive the invader out. Anger flared up in an unforeseen way, as if waiting for this very opportunity to burn and set the outside thoughts and words inserted into her head aflame. Erasing all trace became priority number one and the Ren’s seamless transition from one mind-set to another was truly phenomenal. Suddenly no longer a young woman working out, but Sieger Ren’s Hand ready to conquer and wage wars, the agent used her Teräs Käsi training to steel her inner self against more attacks, preventing the stranger from digging his mental claws deeper into her thoughts and possibly enslaving her very mind. The act came at a price – when he appeared in front of her in a most unexpected manner, hurling energy her way, there was no avoiding it. Perhaps if not for her distracted mind, Zmej Ren would have responded in kind, but alas, the knight’s body found itself tossed back.

When her feet found the ground and dug in, anything to slow and stop the sudden movement back, her dominant hand already went for the signature weapon branding her a trained Force user or someone who killed one.

When attacked, Zmej never hesitated to give into aggression and let passion fuel her, not one to shy away from violence. After all, she was a weapon. Nothing more, nothing less, an instrument to enforce the Supreme Leader’s will and further his empire’s interests. Be it for this reason or because the attacker’s message reeked of disrespect of Sieger Ren, the cross-shaped lightsaber hilt automatically jumped into her open palm, a dog eager to please its owner. The weapon’s unusual quality did not like in the two additional vents; as soon as came to life with its characteristic hiss, an unusually loud hum accompanied the scarlet blade’s existence. Fiery energy crackled across the searing beam, a menacing promise of death to any who dared to cross the wielder. It grew into greater prominence once she managed to end her short-lived flight, the space between them now greater than before. The sickly pale blonde realized it could change any second. After all, she just saw him materialize out of nowhere.

The knight’s panting ceased just as her empty hand rose, an open palm indicating the most typical use of telekinesis. No forceful push followed though; knuckles turned white, all fingers slowly curled into a clenched fist, imagining the man’s lungs seized by the very same hand and crushed. Soft, breathing, fragile – suddenly challenged by her willpower and concentrated anger, both of which greatly benefited from the teenager’s read of Darth Sidious’ tome detailing the dark side’s destructive power. No comment parted her lips, too focused to speak.



[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

The move was...telegraphed at best, misguided at worst. However, the Sith Lord did not admonish the young-looking girl. His was a life shaped by the bitter realities of loss and struggle that seemed to be the diagram of every bleeding heart story in the galaxy. This was inevitable and he begrudged the various sentients of the galaxy nothing for their collective experiences.

That was not what had refined the man standing before [member="Zmej Ren"] today, however. There was a subtlety to controlling one's inner strength, regardless of what the source might have been. Those that lashed out in anger and allowed it to control them were never truly in control. Yes, passion and fury could fuel one's connection to the more destructive elements of the Force, enabling access to fantastic feats. Yet that was only the beginning of the story. It was the subsequent exhaustion, the weakening of resolve that no one ever spoke of.

The difference between being a conduit for the Force and wielding the Force as a deadly weapon.

Cameron carried no fancy weapons at the moment. It would have been unnecessary anyways. Instead, he relied on a particular technique that he'd learned from a Rogue Jedi, of all people. As he'd been told, it was a rather controversial technique among most Jedi sects, but it held no real basis in the dark side of the Force. For a moment, he wondered how often Zmej had made this attempt? Sure, constricting pressure on his lungs would prevent breathing...but a lung was little more than a spongy, air-filled organ. Sure, it contained some blood vessels and cells in various areas, but attempting to cause permanent damage beyond asphyxiation was...well...a little under-inspired.

So...Cameron merely elected to give back the young woman a little more effective trick as a thin smile played on his face. Feeling, groping through the Force past the skin that covered her chest, the Sith Lord expanded his senses until he could feel the cells that existed in her own lungs. After all, a collapsed lung was something that could be fixed with rather rudimentary techniques not even requiring a hospital. But what about the opposite?

Abruptly, the Sith Lord expanded the natural pressure in the woman's chest, utilizing the Force to swiftly cause the pressure within her upper body to drastically rise rather than diminish. The human body was simultaneously a resilient yet fragile entity. Fear not, little Ren. It'll be over in but a moment.

In truth, he would cease the moment that she did. No doubt her brainwashing would prompt her to resort to a contest of martial abilities next. If not, he may very well have to kill the girl. After all, he couldn't be expected to hold his breath forever.

 

[Zmej Ren]

In the first seconds that followed, she did not even register his swift and brutal retaliation. Standing still, yet pouring her will into the task at hand, Zmej was so immensely focused that all else ceased to exist and registering the rising pressure in her torso was a mere nuisance she chose to completely ignore despite it flashing all sorts of warning signs. Taking him down was the sole priority and she never backed down from a fight. When the realization of facing a counter attack hit her, no visible reaction showed in her expression. For a moment, there was a brief consideration of other tactics, all swiftly dismissed in favour of her current plan. It would work in time. It had to. The dark side listened, chained by her will and pouring her destructive message still, no matter what continued to manifest within her own form.

Did she want to die? Definitely not. But the little Ren was a stubborn creature that completely rejected the possibility of giving up and losing this fight. A sore loser, too, hoping to drag her opponent into the Void’s deepest pits should she perish. All things considered, the only power capable of stopping her was death itself, the ultimate reaper of lives, something that did not bother her as long as she could bring a few foes to accompany her on the longest of journeys. Refusing to stay down or alter her tactic, whether blind to other possibilities or simply taking this as a challenge of who remained standing, Zmej poured her frustration into the crushing grip despite feeling his own power, as if inflating her organs to extremely dangerous levels. Nothing persuaded her to stop though – the exact opposite happened and she felt her motivation grow, eventually putting the blonde knight on a straight track with no turns.

The alien force originating inside her chest became unbearable, as if another organism wished to birth itself by bursting through her body. Pain and immeasurable pressure completely filled her body, eliciting a cough before suffocating gags took over the young woman’s throat. Maintaining her hold, she let the saber drop – the now free hand furiously pounded her chest, clawed at her throat, yet managed to produce zero results. Even after this, she wished to keep it up, her body decided otherwise however. Gasping and moaning, suddenly overwhelmed by his power’s effects and losing her own grip on the dark side's leash, the wide eyed knight of Ren finally collapsed and entered an involuntary slumber.



[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

There were equal parts strength and foolishness to the young Knight's stubborn approach to confrontation, combat. While the Sith Lord could certainly respect the girl's dedication and outright refusal to accept no-win scenario, he was simultaneously disgusted by her lack of presence of mind. It was a typical scenario in youth. Emotion had to be tempered with knowledge, awareness, and, in many cases, restraint. There would come a time when [member="Zmej Ren"] would realize that gradually wearing down an opponent by allowing them to display their own weaknesses was more effective than trying to brute force your way to victory.

No sooner had Zmej's entire body collapsed than Cameron was permitted a blissful, sharp inhale of air as the force constricting his lungs dissipated. Forcing himself to remain upright, the Sith Lord placed his hands on top of his head to encourage the maximum intake of oxygen as his body gradually recovered. In a matter of moments, Cameron casually approached the unconscious form of the young Ren. For several moments, he was torn as to his next steps. Her death would serve no purpose...in fact he judged that her death would be a great loss to the First Order.

As the Sith Lord had not seen dedication, misguided or not, such as Zmej's in quite some time, he elected not to simply leave her laying in the grass. Stopping just beside the seemingly unconscious body, Cameron knelt down and allowed his left hand to hover over her head. Closing his eyes, Cameron drew on the knowledge of an ability he had learned and practiced at great length with a Rogue Jedi Master of all things.

Morichro.

Swiftly, Cameron worked to ensure that Zmej would remain in her slumber for an extended period of time as the Sith Lord slowed her bodily functions to nearly nothing. Once his task was complete, he scooped the young woman's body into his arms and initiated a measured pace back towards his modified AlAT/i.

Approximately twenty minutes later, the large craft was rocketing towards orbit. Zmej had been placed on the bed of Cameron's simple stateroom, and the Sith Lord himself sat in a comfortable leather chair. Closing his eyes and exhaling softly, he slowly and carefully began to reanimate the girl's bodily functions, effectively bringing her back to a more typical state of slumber. Once that was complete, Cameron merely leaned back...and waited in silence.

 

[Zmej Ren]

Waking up in an unknown place, lying atop a bed that definitely wasn’t her own – an entirely new experience for the knight and not one she had looked forward to, provided her strict, dutiful mind ever considered such possibility. Fluttering open, two sickly coloured orbs flared to life, head turning around frantically as panic denied her inner gears from making sense of things during the awakening. The surroundings had no sense of familiarity to them; they could be anywhere right now, although logic reassured the young woman she was still in the First Order space, as flying past the borders meant going through a thorough check. Hopefully her brothers and sisters in faith already knew of her disappearance. Finding the lost Ren was only a matter of time - kidnapping one of the Supreme Leader’s Hands was not a matter taken lightly and she fully expected a commando to storm in any second.

Of course, a trained assassin, Zmej Ren did not rely on others to rescue her like some damsel in distress.

With the perpetrator sitting right in front of her like a guard dog to never let the blonde from his sight, Zmej swiftly began her search for anything useful as a weapon. Even the simplest tool used for everyday life could be turned into a deadly instrument, provided the knight mustered up enough strength to wield it properly. Zmej Ren’s fist clenched, arm shaking violently as she fought to suppress the sudden influx of rage, the greatest fuel any trained Force sensitive could run on. Needless to say, the young Ren wasn’t happy. Flames of the dark side burned in her sulphur yellow eyes, wishing to set the man aflame. Unfortunately, unlike the Supreme Leader, Sieger’s daughter possessed no such power or skill – and thus a hateful glare riddled with anger had to suffice. Swallowing, the pale woman sat up, noting there’s been some strength left in her bones after all.

“You just signed your own death warrant. I hope you’re happy.” The knight of Ren hissed venomously.

Several objects within reach caught the knight’s interest, through her gaze never left the man’s face, unwilling to reveal her plans. In fact, with her senses regained for the most part, it was impossible to deny the two happened to be aboard a ship. The hum and slight vibrations in the tips of her fingers were both telltale signs of a vessel, making running into a patrol all the more likely. Mentally laughing at the situation, she shot up with surprising nimbleness, standing straight despite still struggling with stability.

“What did you hope to accomplish by doing this? Are you working for the Alliance?” She barked inquisitively, as if shifting their roles around could be achieved by mere words and enough aggression tossed his way.



[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Silver-green eyes remained fixed on the young Ren ever since the first signs of her stirring awake. Unlike Zmej, Cameron's own body to run the gamut of emotional reactions. In fact, his entire being mirrored the expressionless mask that he wore.

When [member="Zmej Ren"] was finally done with her little temper tantrum, Cameron leaned back in his seat, keeping his gaze leveled at her now elevated eyes. "Little girl. The day that you have either right or reason to assume any level of superiority over me, I will let you know. Until then, can we please dispense with the misguided angst and bravado? It's counterproductive."

Pausing for but a moment, Cameron steepled his fingers in his lap. "Besides, let me go ahead and let you in on a secret. Sieger Ren couldn't care less about you. Trust me, I've known the man longer than you've been alive." After waving a dismissive hand, Cameron indicated the edge of the bed. "Now then. How about you tell me why you even call yourself Ren. What promises and ideals seduced you to such a cult?"

 

[Zmej Ren]

Zmej’s frown deepened, clearly displaying the knight’s lack of tolerance when it came to strangers mocking the Supreme Leader and her order. That alone was enough to have his tongue removed and she would have done so if a sufficiently sharpened object rested in her hands. Left to wallow in anger instead, amassing its dark power to unleash later, the young woman tried to gain an insight into the situation. Still lacking answers, her primary picks for her kidnapper’s allegiance were also the most obvious ones – Jedi and Sith. Although most evidence pointed towards the latter, she wasn’t about to completely dismiss possible connections to the Jedi and their Alliance. After all, Kaeshana’s been a glaring example of the Alliance’s hypocrisy, with dark side practitioners fighting alongside Jedi as if it was the most common thing in the galaxy. The pale skinned Ren did, however, crushed all the man’s claims aside.

“You’re lying.” She informed, eyes never leaving his face.

“You will see just how much the Supreme Leader cares about his own once your height matches mine,” commented the Ren, “Your powers may be considerable, but they are ultimately meaningless. You are a pest, caged, unable to escape. By attacking me, you have attacked the Supreme Leader himself. Do you know the penalty for that?”

Sulphur hued eyes sparkled in sadistic delight. Finally, unshackling the anger, spiders of the dark side started to weave invisible strands to form a tight tourniquet, its purpose no other than to coil around the man’s neck and deny him oxygen, windpipe squeezed tight. Although Zmej was no master of the dark side, her grip on telekinesis would undoubtedly make Darth Vader proud.

“What if I strangled you here and now and saved my fellow Ren the trouble?”


[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Cameron had not expected the girl to actually listen. That wasn't the way of the Knights of Ren these days. A group that had, ultimately, been created for the purpose of being the ideal First Order citizen. Naturally, Sieger Ren's purpose had been to create a group of weapons in his own image. It allowed him to play the supreme, boundlessly capable ruler that he fantasized about being during his own training. The reality was...none of the success of the First Order had come at the hands of Sieger Ren. His true involvement in the day-to-day administration of the First Order had all but vanished. Truth be told, that was the sign of success in leadership...you worked yourself out of a job. The problem only arose when your own ability and control became...eclipsed by the same traits in another.

That time would soon be at hand...and all the little Ren would be in for a rude awakening. Cameron had no desire for the death of the Knights of Ren. He did however have an interest in opening their eyes. What was their dedication to? The First Order and its goals or the Supreme Leader? Was it the position they would support or the man that the vast majority of them had never met and quite literally none of them actually knew?

The Sith Lord knew what the current answer was...but change was a mechanism of progress. [member="Zmej Ren"] would indeed save her fellow Ren a lot of trouble. Cameron would grant that wish, but she just might not like how it occurred.

As before, Cameron practically saw the young girl's action almost before she fully manifested it in her mind. Her anger did fuel her, yes, but it also blinded her. For instance, the vessel very much was in hyperspace by now. How had it come to be that a complete stranger to her was comfortably on Virgillia within a stone's throw of the Bastion completely without issue. Virgillia had the typical elements of First Order security.

If the real answer was that some enemy of the First Order could execute such an action without even so much breaking a sweat, the First Order and Knights of Ren had some real big problems. She herself had been content to casually run by him on the planet's surface, offering her sophomoric challenge to a race. Not even Cameron would greet a complete stranger on such a world - especially not one with an obviously strong connection to the Force. However, due to the girl's lack of presence of mind or total incompleteness of training, she had only continuously put herself in progressively less-advantaged positions.

There was a thin line between confidence and flagrant stupidity. A very thin line.

Having allowed the girl to try and suffocate him yet again, Cameron was spurred to action not so much out of irritation but the realization that she could very well cause physical trauma to his windpipe. His need to breathe could be controlled rather simply. Without moving, he allowed the full weight of his presence in the Force to surge directly against the girl's mind once more.

It is you that needs to be concerned. You are correct, taking a Knight of Ren into custody is quite serious. Yet here I am, completely unconcerned. Expand your mind to a more probable narrative than the Alliance infiltrating Virgillia. Unless you wish to think of yourself as the most useless of all Ren, allowing yourself to be so easily captured by the enemy.

If it came down to credibility, Zmej undoubtedly had tragically little as compared to Cameron. He would give her another five seconds to make her first intelligent decision since their interaction initiated.

Then he would start contorting her internal organs until she was paralyzed with pain.

 

[Zmej Ren]

Like before, the knight of Ren refused to back down, bringing detrimental effects upon herself. Massive amounts of pain erupted from within, chewing her insides, and the crippling agony left her with no other choice than to fall down again, focus broken and her telekinetic hold with it. Arms instinctively hugged the chest and the entire body curled into a ball. Helpless, devastated, the exact opposite of what she has been this morning. Worst of all, Zmej became increasingly frustrated, facing the fact nothing in the entire galaxy could help her now. Even the dark side appeared to have lost its usual destructive edge, turned into a beaten puppy incapable of biting as its master demanded.

“Kark you. Kark you kark you kark you.” The Ren cursed over and over. At first her voice dripped with resolution, a promise she wouldn’t yield. Each subsequent insult lost in that though, eventually becoming nothing more than a resigned expression of acceptance.

Salty drops, both colourless and deep red hit the floor panel she knelt on, mixing together into one questionable substance. The internal conflict of anger and realization of complete and utter powerlessness produced similar results. Not quite either of the feelings, yet a strange poison of both that now ran through her body, eroding all will to continue fighting while silently fuming the fires of hatred to drink from. Shaking her head, eyes wide open and brows furrowed, Zmej gave up. Blonde locks of hair flailed wildly as her head turned to face the man again, gaze wild and spiteful.

“End it! Kill me.” The blonde hissed through gritted teeth.



[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

The outright stubbornness of [member="Zmej Ren"] was a considerable ally to the young girl. The crushing force cratering in upon Cameron's windpipe would undoubtedly require attention to fully recover from regardless of the...relatively brief exposure. When the girl did release him, the Sith Lord cleared his throat slightly, resisting the urge to briefly rub a hand over the exterior of his throat. It was one of many natural reflexes that Cameron had worked hard at training to ignore altogether, knowing the action never served to provide much actual comfort. A mind over matter situation, so to speak.

Silver-green eyes remained locked on the diminutive Ren as she cursed and...cried? A wave of emotion rolled forth from the young girl at that precise moment, more confusion than anything. Obviously, she, like many Ren perhaps, had truly absorbed the image of their superiority over all others. As if their blind dedication to any one man would grant them true strength, knowledge. Cameron wanted to laugh, but the girl's transition from confusion to pure hatred was rather swift.

Rolling his eyes, Cameron leaned back comfortably in his seat. What was it with people and failure that made them so quick to welcome death? "Tell me what it is that you desire most, so that I might deny you." The comment wasn't really directed at Zmej. It was merely part of a mantra that Lord Alathor had repeated to him countless times. "It was over before it began my dear, little Ren."

A pause.

"I will do you one better. I will fill the gaps of your knowledge and ability...gaps that exist because you have forced yourself to the teachings of a Lord and Master that never fully completed his own training." No doubt - the more Cameron chastised Sieger Ren, the more Zmej was polarized against the dark-skinned Sith. This had purpose. Cameron wanted the young girl to see him as the embodiment of every level of hatred in her body. He wanted her to hate him for his views of Sieger, the Ren, and most importantly, her powerlessness to do anything about it. "What is your name? Or do you prefer 'Little Ren'?"