Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Naboo
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

His fingers slowly opened and closed, his eyes darting from place to place within the cell. The hood had been removed from his head a few seconds before they'd tossed him into the bare metal cell, though the shackles and the suppression collar had stayed in place. He'd tried to remove the thing around his neck a few times already, using either force or leverage, but the shackles prevented him from getting any sort of true grip.

It was a mild frustration, but not the end of the world.

Vrak knew eventually that the shackles would be removed, or he'd remove them himself, but it wasn't time for that yet. She had yet to appear to him, as he knew she would. She would come to gloat, taunt, or interrogate. Perhaps all three. The reason didn't matter much, but Vrak knew eventually she would show her face. He wondered briefly whether or not they would kill him this time.

He was almost entirely sure that they wouldn't, after all these were Jedi they were talking about. The last time she'd held him dead to rights she had stayed her hand. A foolish mistake that she might not repeat again, though if their previous interactions were any indication then he would get the outcome he expected. His shoulders rolled slightly, pain spiking through the multiple bruises he'd sustained during his capture.

His right leg was still shattered, broken in more than one place and untreated.

Eventually that was something that would have to be addressed. Without the force he couldn't heal it himself.

A frown pulled at the Sith's lips as he thought he heard boots ringing outside the cell, a steady tromp. There were no windows, and the rayshield over the door prevented him from pressing against the cold durasteel to hear if anyone was coming. He scowled, but slowly sat back on the bed.

There was no need to eagerness, and this way he could hide some of his pain.
 
A slow creak of a thick durasteel door rang out, slamming shut as a series of large cylindrical bolts secured the lock within the powerful frame. Inside the isolation chamber was a single lone cell, strong durasteel bars with a ray shielded entryway. Along the opposite end of the hallway a single panel sat that controlled both the lock and ray shield for the cell. Vrak would hear the patter of boots as they passed by the tiny space he found himself confined to. Shoulder length blonde hair obscured the girls face somewhat as she stopped in front of the cell. A deep breath in and out would be the only sound that echoed through the largely empty space the two shared.

"Vra-k" The emphasis on the letter K came after a very short pause, "Nashar." Her voice would be recognizable to the man.

Jamie turned her head just slightly to the left, so that one eye shot a look through the ray shielded door to the man within. "Fortune is a fickle thing, isn't it?"

Hopefully he recognized that little verbal cue from their previous discussion. Oh how the times had changed. Perhaps he would see the unmistakable smirk on her face. Perhaps not. It was only meant for her own pleasure regardless. The smug look on her face, throwing his words back into his face was partial vindication all on its' own.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

For a second he considered snapping his own neck. The smugness that practically rolled off the girl would have been something he'd expect from his rivals back on Athiss. The thought made him smile for a few seconds, though that smile quickly disappeared as he spotted the smirk that sat on her face. She was half facing away from her, but the pleased expression etched on the lines of her face were more than recognizable even from here.

"Coming to gloat?" He could already feel anger bubbling just beneath the surface, but he knew that displaying it would only please her further. She was here to win, she was here because she thought she had already won. There was no reason to give in.

He took a breath.

"Perhaps you are more like me than you think." Vrak continued on. "Brings memory of home."

Perhaps she'd take that as the insult it was meant to be. For Purebloods gloating in victory was as natural as breathing. Perhaps it was so for Humans as well, Vrak didn't know, but she had disparaged Sith enough that he hoped the comparison would sting her just a bit.
 
She turned fully to look at the Sith behind the ray shield, smile still well present on her face. Her arms crossed beneath one another, and for a moment she considered him and his words, tongue pressing along the inside of the bottom of her lip. He likely wouldn't appreciate her glossing over his comments as if they were nothing, as if he were nothing, that her words were all that mattered.

"Given your affinity for my home I thought you deserved a free trip back, all expenses paid." Quite a few expenses in fact. The blonde leaned back against the wall opposite the cell, vision still partially obscured by the reddish hue from the ray shield. "I hope you're enjoying your accommodations. It will be another few hours before we transfer you to the maximum security prison where you'll be staying."

As for his broken leg? Well, Jamie didn't much care about that. It would heal on its' own, perhaps not correctly, but it would heal all the same. "Your new home."

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

For a second he said nothing.

"Kind of you." She had paid quite a bit for him. A hundred thousand Credits was not a paltry sum, and the Bounty Hunter who had collected it, rather the criminal scum that had taken him was likely more than pleased with himself. "Are you aware that your little trip for me has directly funded one of the newest Crime Syndicates in the galaxy?"

He didn't deign to call them anything but new.

"I sure hope it was worth it." He had no idea what the Helix Syndicate would do with the funds they received from his capture, and in truth he didn't particularly care either. When he escaped, and it was a when, he would be sure to exact vengeance upon them.

"I hope you'll visit me when I get there." He tried to hide the bubbling rage just beneath the surface. "I did so enjoy our last chat."

The small spike on emotion in his tone, the anger and the satisfaction that her torture had brought him was there.
 
Jamie wandered her way towards the panel along the far wall, her finger pressing a series of keys that brought down the shield in front of his cell. She lingered in that spot for a second before turning on her heels and wandering back to Vrak's cell. Her blue eyes peered through the bars to stare at him. What a miserable sight. "I imagine most bounty hunters are not shining examples of good. But they get the job done all the same."

Jamie was naive about many things, but the idea that paying a group of mercenaries to get something you wanted and have them do so in an honorable way was not one of them. She pointed towards Vrak. "After all, here you sit. Broken and defeated like the rest of your people." Another wide smirk beamed from the woman. "And while I'm sure you enjoyed your last trip, unfortunately look where that got you. A tiny cell, a broken leg, and severed from the Force." She still didn't understand why he had been so captivated with seeking some kind of misplaced revenge on her for not killing him.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

His leg twitched slightly when she used the word 'broken'. The bone hadn't been shattered, a small mercy, but the snap was severe enough that he could feel the two pieces almost moving separately. The pain was immense, only hidden by his lack of motion. Vrak scowled slightly as she kept on speaking. He knew that she was right in a way. This situation was far from ideal, and without the force there was little he could do to actually escape this prison.

Perhaps things would be more fortuitous at whatever facility they brought him to. "For now."

He had to keep his calm. She could not be allowed to see his rage, she could not be given true satisfaction. There was no victory here, not yet, but that didn't meant he couldn't at least strike back. Shifting slightly the Pureblood moved tot he edge of the small bench, his foot coming down on the floor with a thunk. He tried to hide the slight wince of pain that carried through him.

"Yet imagine what I'll do when I'm freed." Vrak hissed.

"What will happen to your world." His fingers tightened against the edges of the bench. "Your people, your family. You."
 
Blue eyes watched as the Sith clutched the edge. After their last meeting he had forfeited all of her generosity. She would let him wallow in his pain instead.

"There will be no freedom. You will be executed by royal decree proceeding your trial and swiftly forgotten." Her tone was ghastly sharp, defiant. Also a complete bluff. They did not execute prisoners, but he needn't know that. The threat of harm to her family caused her fists to curl and shake slightly. "You failed to kill me. You failed to escape. You failed to defeat the bounty hunters that came for you. You failed. That's why you are where you are."

Her hands grabbed hold of the durasteel bars on the cell, her face equally close. "Your life from here on out is to be decided for you. Your chains remain forever unbroken." A little jab at the Sith code allowed her to smile again.

"Your own arrogance was your undoing." Then again, that was the Sith MO, was it not? "I left you on Prakith. Yet you still came after me."

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

Execution? That was unexpected, but not the end. It simply meant that there was a clock on his escape. Vrak's fingers tightened ever so slightly. There would have to be a trial, not to mention Naboo was democratic so their government would take a while to carry out the execution itself.

He had time.

"I did not fail." He bit back. "My end is far from here."

Vrak truly believed that. He could still escape before his death, he could still leave this place, he just had to time it right. Escape was not yet an option, his leg needed to heal a little bit more. The Criminal scum had unfortunately taken his lightsaber, but that wasn't too big of an issue. If he could get message back to Athiss...perhaps through one of the other prisoners. A frown pulled at his lips for a few seconds, gaze flciking back towards the smug Jedi. "And I will come after you again when I leave here."

He went on with his deception.

"Again and again." Vrak said, fingers growing whiter as his grip threatened to nearly bend the metal he sat on. "Until you are broken or dead."
 
"Your empty threats do not frighten me, Vrak ."

He was going nowhere. Nowhere but a stasis cell, locked away and forgotten for generations. It wasn't execution, but perhaps it was worse in some ways. The mind was still present, yet the body frozen in time, day after day, leaving the prisoner with nothing but their own thoughts for eternity. Jamie shuddered at the thought of being stuck like that.

"I'm flattered that you are so enthralled by me, but your persistence would have been better spent elsewhere."

Why was he so insistent on this?

"By my research, a true Sith would be ashamed to call you their own. Your incompetence time and again have proven this."

She could see the anger flaring inside of him, even while he did his very best to hide it. The death grip he had at the edge of the bench reflected that. If his leg wasn't broken perhaps he would have lunged from where he sat in another attempt to choke her to death through the bars of the cell. Perhaps it was a bit wrong of her to enjoy the tables being turned, though after having a knife plunged into your leg by the very man in binds now sitting in misery within a cell, it was oddly satisfying making his existence a little more miserable.

"Before you are executed, the Jedi of the New Order will ravage your mind. They will find where the rest of your people are hiding. And they will hunt them. And they will kill them. Just like you told me before. And it will be your fault this time." She leaned forward, whispering and repeating herself. "Your fault."

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

"Do you think such a thing would matter?" Vrak said simply.

Any threat to 'ravage' his mind was completely empty. No Jedi would do such a thing. He had seen what such techniques did to people, and it wasn't the Jedi way. He could well believe that some of them would kill him, but to do that would be another cruelty indeed. Slowly he rose from the bench, his leg screaming of pain, though he ignored it as best as he could. He hobbled towards the exit of the cell.

"Do you fear me so much that you have to try and threaten me with empty promises?" He smiled slightly, then continued on. "No threat you can make. No words you can speak will invoke any fear in me."

Vrak looked her directly in the eye. "Torture me."

It was a dare.

"Brand me." Another request. "Beat me."

"It doesn't matter what you say or do. We both know you're weak." Perhaps they would find Athiss, but he doubted it.
 
She didn't move as he approached, hobbling like a broken animal towards the bars of the cell. "That collar on your neck can be made permanent, you know." It had been done many, many times in the past. Jamie was certain he wouldn't appreciate being severed from his beloved dark side of the Force. "Stripped of everything that makes you Sith, in name, and in practice." Perhaps he wouldn't show her fear in that, but he would think about it. Dwell on it. It would eat at him while he desperately searched for some means of escape.

"I don't need to torture you. You are a tortured soul already. A slave to your own blind hatred."

The girl placed her hand through the durasteel bars, gently touching the side of his face. "It's sad, really."

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

"That would kill me." He wasn't actually sure if that was true or not. As far as he knew a Pureblood needed the force to survive. Their bond was symbiotic. Even with this collar on he could still feel the presence of the force, could still 'sense' it in a way. It was there, just out of reach. A frustration to be sure, but not something that would kill him. If they severed him entirely? He was almost entirely certain that he would begin to waste away.

Indignation rushed through him as soon as she touched him.

It was the second time she had laid hands on him, and the second time he felt himself fill with disgust and revulsion. He took a step back, out of her reach and away from her as a sneer pulled across his lips. For a second he considered pulling the key he had stolen from his robes, undoing the shackles and snapping her arm, but he knew such a thing was foolish. The anger simmering within him would be his undoing if he wasn't careful with where it took him.

"I am many things." He began. "A slave is not one of them."

She had hit a nerve it seemed. "Unlike you, I have found freedom."
 
I have found freedom!? Jamie couldn't hold back the laughter. Mere seconds after he spoke the stern, stoic appearance fell away and she burst into near uncontrollable laughter. Several long seconds filled with the echo of her voice around the empty room later and she finally managed to rein in her fit of giggling.

"You have found freedom!? Are we in the same place right now?!"

The girl looked around the room, just to be extra certain they were still in fact, in an isolation cell. "Your freedom is gone."

It appeared that her touching him was something he greatly disliked. That, in and of itself greatly pleased her. Something that could really get under his skin. Something he couldn't hide from her. "Perhaps simply touching you will kill you. I do ever so much enjoy seeing that scowl of yours. That disdain. It would seem you do have a trigger after all, don't you, Vrak?"

As he stood a distance away she simply shrugged. "Maybe severing you from the Force would kill you. Maybe not. If they choose not to simply execute you, that will be your punishment. And I would be eager to see the results."

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

He wasn't so eager. Vrak had never been particularly talented when it came to the use of the force. He was no alchemist or sorcerer, but he had his gifts. Lightning and Battle Coordination. Both had served him well in the past few months, but his skill had always truly sat in lightsaber combat.

Even that required the force however, and without it he would be reduced to less than nothing. Athiss would swallow him up in seconds, his rivals would mark him as an outcast, less than a slave. That was something he could not allow. Even if the severing didn't kill him, as he suspected it might, it would be a death sentence in all but name. He frowned for half a second, then quickly decided to try and shift the blame back upon the Jedi instead of himself.

"You're blind." He told her. "So filled with your own satisfaction that you can't see the truth of your own misery."

Perhaps that would work.

"You come here to gloat and taunt me while everything else around you is falling apart." At this point Vrak was really just bluffing. He had caught very brief glimpses of her own thoughts during their connection a few weeks earlier, but he knew nothing besides base emotions. Yet he hoped to throw her off at least a little bit.

If only because her words were starting to do more than irk him.
 
"No." She said sharply. She again crossed her arms and stepped back away from the bars of the cell, her foot placed behind her as a brace against the wall. For a few moments his words seemed like nothing more than oddly cryptic Sith garble. The mind of a madman so hellbent on destroying everything around him that he thought it was other people ruining the galaxy. "I came here to tell you that your vendetta against me is for nothing. Wasted effort." Her hand came to brush away the rogue strands of hair that covered her left eye.

"You were free to leave Prakith, despite killing two people, a heinous crime on its' own." She rested her fingertips on her hips. "You came to my home to torture and kill me and harm others." Her fingers tightened around her waist, the thought of what she was about to say angering her. "You threaten violence against my family."

It would be incredibly difficult for anyone to uncover knowledge that Mariya was her half sister, given the lengths gone to hide her in the first place, but her parents? They weren't exactly unknown. They were well known figures in Theed, wealthy and very much in the public eye for their humanitarian and civic duties.

"You hate me and you don't even know why. You hate simply to hate. You are a slave."

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

"No no no." Vrak said with a slight smile.

"I don't hate you." He didn't, at least not really. The Pureblood despised her in this moment, he loathed the situation he was in, and yes her taunts angered him enough to threaten decapitation, but he had no real enmity towards her, not any more than he had to anyone else. "I pity you."

The Pureblood stood a little straighter, a difficult task considering his splintered leg.

Had the suppression collar been removed it would not have been an issue, the darkside would already be healing him, albeit slowly. Now however it would take weeks for him to recover, and unfortunately it might not even recover properly. He scowled slightly as the pain lanced through him, but again he ignored it so that he could keep speaking. "You bind yourself. Tie yourself up in knots. You hold to these...moral fallacies. I killed two of your men and yet you let me live. I murdered dozens of people on this world and still you hold a 'trial'."

He practically spat the word.

"Why do you think I showed you what I did?" He smiled. "To torture you? No."

Vrak shook his head. "You wander the galaxy like a blind toddler, only ever looking at what's right in front of you. The next shiny thing that catches your attention."
 
"I don't need nor accept pity from a deplorable man bred from a populace that would kill one another to stand an inch taller."

Without morals there was nothing but chaos. The trial was more or less simple formality here. He was guilty, he would be found guilty. It was already well decided in advance. However democratic processes were what they were, and if they were to maintain their way of life, this was how it had to be. Jamie wouldn't kill the man, wouldn't torture him, but she wouldn't stand in the way of allowing an execution should it have been ordered. This man had by all accounts earned himself as much, though she would be just as happy to see him left to linger in a stasis cell for the next ten generations.

"There are many things I don't know. This is why I learn. Rampant murder of innocent life however is unjustifiable no matter what lies you tell yourself."

She bit her lip, wondering exactly what the true ramifications of severing Vrak from the Force would be. Would he actually die?

"Perhaps I will recommend a stay of execution in favor of a severance to your connection. After all, I do appreciate knowledge, and this course of action seems to be what you're after as well. It will open my eyes, as you say, to what the results are of severing a Sith from the Force. Maybe then it will be my turn to pity you."

Burn.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 
[member="Jamie Pyne"]

"So then you'll kill me after all." Vrak said simply, ignoring quite literally everything else that she had said.

He felt an odd pit in his stomach. The Pureblood wasn't quite sure if it was fear...though it was foreign enough to him. Severing him from the force was just about the worst outcome of all of this. Even if he didn't die he would become nothing, shunned from home, all of his work wiped out within a heartbeat. That was something that he could not allow.

Death would have been preferable.

"For all your preaching." He had to turn her away from this course of action. The outcome was too mired in mystery for him to find any form of comfort. "It's either a quick death or a short one."

He smiled at her. "We are alike after all."

Vrak repeated the start of their conversation once more.
 
"Alright." She said, stepping once more towards the cell, leaning against it with her arms crossed. "Tell me then." She bit into her lip, oddly curious to his answer. "What would you have me do? You've already threatened to kill me, my family, destroy my home and my people." Granted she disbelieved in his capability of doing any number of those things.

"Letting you go is strictly out of the question. But I am curious what other alternative you think you should be given." Not that whatever he said would happen either, but she did find herself interested in hearing his proposal.

"Oh," She raised a hand, folding all but her index fingers. "But we are nothing alike." Not in species, ideology, or moral background.

This ought to be a good listen.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]
 

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