Kraujas nezioti (Warning! Not for the Meek.)

[Daxton Bane]

* Sith for Blood Stalker *

Undisclosed location

The naked man was strapped firmly to the table, his armored long been stripped and discarded by the service droids. Dull blue lighting provided poor illumination for to reveal the stark and sterile environs of his current home. The Sith Knight enters, dressed in a simple purple and green surgical gown which was marked with several stains from his other patients. In the distance one could hear the pitiful wails of someone being tortured beyond the thick walls of the prison.

Taking a holocorder, Daxton pressed a button and set to record. "Subject 7-0AD894Junction-C, seems to be in the prime of health, possible force user which is not expected from the batch obtained from Junction. Will awake the subject for evaluation for possible reintegration should he be deemed usable. Note: This subject showed remarkable initiative in using a flamer at close range. Showed utter disregard for personal safety, which makes him a prime candidate for the Kraujas Nezioti program."

Strapping a breather unit on the face of his unconscious subject, he release a flood of oxygen mixed with his custom Vertigo drug. Each breath the patient took would alter his perception of time to make it pass slowly than before while at the same time enhancing all the responses from his other senses. What only took minutes would feel like hours to him, all the while the pain would be enhanced tenfold.

When he was sufficely doused, Daxton pressed a button to inject adrenline into his system to wake him up. As soon as the patient's eyes were open Daxton smiled, "Well come to my humble laboratory. You have volunteered for a chance to improve Sith-Mandalorian relations. Kindly state your name and rank for our records please."

 

[Akaan'ade Be'Solus]

Kal was trapped in an infinite sea of confusion, everything a distorted blur of illogicality. He saw a figure before him and he remembered. Daxton. Why had he taken him on? He had been filled with rage and emotion, unable to perform with any form of sense or technique. Kal groaned under the sheer madness of the situation. Then Daxton spoke to him. Kal was too far from reality to fully comprehend the words. "What are you going to do to me!?" He slurred. Piecing together Daxton's words he assumed he was asking for some kind of identification. "Name: Kal A'den-Shuk'la. Rank: Screw you." He was too tired. He just wanted whatever was happening to end.

 

[Daxton Bane]

"Tsk tsk, my young friend. Is that anyway to begin a relationship? Looks like I will have to teach you some manners then." With a press of button, he jolted the prisoner with pure electrical current for several seconds before turning off the machine. Smiling as he did so, he knew that for the subject, the electruction would have seemed like a very long time.

"Again, state your name and your rank for the records."

 

[Akaan'ade Be'Solus]

The shock was a never-ending surge of pain. It didn't stop. Daxton said something again, so Kal assumed it was the same thing. "Name: Kal A'den Shuk'la. Rank: Rally Master. Now stop shocking me!" The electrocution seared his mind, stopped him from forming any kind of structured thought.

 

[Daxton Bane]

"See? That wasn't so hard now was it? How many soldiers did you have under your command?" Daxton was a skilled interrogation expert, he was prepared to crack the shell of this soldier and get all the info he could from his victims, breaking them down and rebuilding them again into something that could be useful.

He hoped that this one would put up a brave front. The others caved in far too easily and the Sith Knight was itching to inflict a little pain.

 

[Akaan'ade Be'Solus]

"Soldiers under my command? Seven billion and twenty two. I really don't fuckin' know." Kal was still dazed and confused, even after the injection of the adrenaline. He turned his head to view the lightsaber wound in his side. "What do you want? What are you going to do? Where am I!?" He could only imagine the sustained and chronic cruelty Daxton could exert unto him.

 

[Daxton Bane]

[Due to the nature of the boards, the writers decided not to depict the actual scenes of torture.]

It was virtually impossible for the soldier to tell how long Daxton kept torturing him. Day and night seemed to have lost all meaning, as every passing moment became an expression of pain. Burned, broken and bleeding, the Sith Knight performed inhuman experiments on his victim, as he asked his questions and made observations in the same tone of voice.

Floating on a sea of narcotics, the Mandalorian began experiencing vivid delusions of his past, all the while Daxton was there lurking at the edge of his consciousness. Gradually, he began to consider the Sith as his sole anchor in his drug fueled imaginations.

Eventually, his body was so badly broken that he had to be hooked up machines to keep him alive. A robotic staff monitored his every life sign and made sure he was coherent and capable of giving the answers the Sith sought.

When finally it was over, Daxton decided to have his droid recover what organic material was still viable and replace the rest with a robotic chassis and parts salvaged from other Sith experiments. By the time Daxton was finished, the soldier was no more. In his place stood a Kraujas Nezioti, a Sith Blood Stalker.

Pleased with his creation, he awaited for him to awaken as he pondered where to send his latest creation to terrorize and spread fear.

 

[Akaan'ade Be'Solus]

Kal slowly opened his eyes. He felt cold. He felt no fear. No worry. No pain. He was the perfect Sith. Without fear, a monster built of pure hatred for his creator. He could hear the quiet sound of his automated breathing, a low hum, the bass to the symphony of darkness. There was no confusion or mistakes. A million algorithms within his partly computerised mind calculated every move decisively. Turning his head to view his hands, he saw only clawed durasteel talons, shining in the dim light. Stepping forth, he saw his clawed feet. The rage burning in his skull, an never-ending inferno, it hurt. He felt no pain, minus that within his own mind. He turned his head, facing Daxton. "What have you done?" He couldn't close his eyes. He didn't even have eyes. He had a pair of photo-receptors, designed to see all forms of light. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" Daxton would surely pay.

 

[Daxton Bane]

"I have cleansed your imperfections and molded you into something far superior. Henceforth, you are my apprentice and I your Master." Pausing to smile at his newest disciple, "And yes, you need not ask it or give me thanks. You are welcome. Now rise, my apprentice. There is much work for us, and so few hands to accomplish them with."

 

[Akaan'ade Be'Solus]

Kal wanted to bare his teeth, or let out a scream of rage, but he had no teeth, and he had no jaw. Through sheer autonomy and potentially flawed logic, he nodded, stepping forth. "As you wish, master." Kal was dying, the Dragon trampling him and turning him into exactly what Daxton had desired. "What is your bidding?" Everything burned, his nonexistent flesh ablaze. The world was drenched in blood, everything deep claret, the entire world distorted by his advanced photoreceptors.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Daxton took a pair of holocrons and toss them at his new apprentice. "Since you have no need for sleep nor rest, your studies begin today. The first holocron, teaches the Sith Code. Learn it, meditate on it and absorb it. It will form the core of your training to come. The second would teach you how to build you first light saber. Study the schematics and then design one for yourself. Once you have completed that task, then I will reveal to you what is the next thing you will need to do."

Then without any further explanations, the Sith Knight left the newly minted Sith Warrior alone in the room to ponder the new twist in his fate.

 

[Akaan'ade Be'Solus]

Nodding, Kal took to study upon the triangular holocrons, viewing the ancient knowledge held within. After meditating upon the teachings until he could not take them from memory, he decided to move onto the lightsaber holocron in order to construct the signature weapon of the force users. While Kal spent this time feeling only a deep hatred for Daxton and what he had done, he could not voice it. He could not scream or shout or yell. How can one do such things, if they have no mouth with which to scream? The dragon was reveling in the darkness, shoving Kal back into the darkened hole wherein it had wallowed. Now the dragon ruled this body. The dragon was never there to help. He was there to rule. Now all he had to to was construct the blade, and Kal would be all but gone. But first, he needed crystals.

 

[Akaan'ade Be'Solus]

Returning to the darkened room wherein the holocrons lay, Kal held the 3 Krayt Dragon Pearls in hand, wishing silently that he could feel the pale smooth spheres, instead of a cold reflection of their texture through his ultrachrome fingers. Taking the supplies in the room, he set to work forging a lightsaber, the holocron's knowledge fixed within his data-banks. Then he set to work.

 

[Akaan'ade Be'Solus]

Using his flawless memory systems to speed up the construction of the blade, he began by fixing the Diatium power cores into both of the hilts he had carved from the bones of the Krayt, then fixing the pearls onto each of the cores, attaching the Ossus dueling crystals to the focus crystal activators. He then added the blade energy channel and blade emitter shroud. Finishing the two sabers by adding two other pieces of bone to the sides of the saber, creating a pair of Saber Tonfa, a variant of lightsabers that allowed the user to block better by holding the perpendicular handle attached to the main saber. They could be held normally as well, making them far more versatile than the standard saber. Activating his new blades, he stared into the pale white blades, their icy white aura lighting up the room. Had he still possessed a mouth, he would have smiled, but instead all he could do was stare upon them, the Dragon in full control, leaving Kal wounded and unconscious deep in his own mind.