Life on the other side.

[Maris Fero]

The Shrike’s eyelids fluttered apart as she drifted back to wakefulness. Though she still remained swathed in the comfortable embrace of the darkness, a light from outside could be seen about the edges of the door indicating that day had probably come once more. The lithe ganger stirred groggily, feeling a dozen pains up and down her body remind her of the cost of her activities on behalf of [member="Enyo Typhos"].

The pale youth shifted beneath luxurious sheets, turning onto her back, arching herself until she was satisfied that the worst of the kinks had loosened in her spine, yawning softly and stretching her arms out behind her head until they connected with the abrupt barrier of the closet wall. Satisfied that she might be able to bear rising, at last, Maris reached out with an alabaster arm and slid the door of the closet open, spilling the bright light beyond upon her makeshift nest in one of the rooms mid-sized storage solutions.

The bed across from her remained unmade, undisturbed from the night before, still staged with the crudely defined form of a sleeping Maris obvious beneath the sheets - crafted with care from spare towels and pillows.

She had tried, she recalled with rapidly returning irritation, to sleep in the vast bed. A small and cold frame tossing and turning, all the while imagining just how exposed she was to attack should she fall asleep. She had tried to sleep with the lights on, but that had just increased her level of paranoia. Worse still the whole room felt like it had seen its share of grim encounters, and retained a memory of those meeting in the very aura of the place.

Better the dark, she was at home in the dark. Eventually, she had chosen the closet.

As she pulled her bare legs free from the warm bedclothes Maris observed the livid darkness of bruises which had bloomed across her pale flesh over the course of the night. The rust red of dried blood and the dulled sheen of solidified bacta coated areas of inflamed pink skin. A trio of strips - two on her right thigh and the other on the left calf - had borne deep slicing wounds inflicted by the murderous droids only a dozen or so hours before, but the miraculous bacta had already made progress toward undoing the damage.

Gingerly, the youth tested the tenderness of one of the wound sites with the tips of three fingers, feeling the dulled ache were she had first expected closer to agony. Easing her bare feet to the cool floor tiles of the penthouse suite Maris slowly raised herself to her feet and stretched her weary frame from head to foot, feeling the immediate relief of her actions with a soft gasp of satisfaction as some knot in her lower back shifted at last and she stood perfectly straight once more.

The suite had seen better days, Maris had arrived still pumped from her night's many victories, still feeling the lingering energy of the power she had embraced that day, and the energy she had unleashed in kind. It was fair to say that the youth had struggled to settle down after that, and the furniture and fittings had suffered following her outbursts.

She glanced at a collapsed end table by the main structural wall, noting the scattered earth and fragmented plant pots. Dark barefoot prints still marred the wall itself, evidence of Maris energetic and frustrated attempts to recreate Enyo’s incredible wall-run she had witnessed in the casino. Despite her Boss’ insistence that such things were beyond her, the wired Maris had carried on regardless, failing painfully several times before her frustration was enough to fuel another wild outburst of the energy she had used before. This time her rage had resulted only in the untimely death of a sofa and the dozen or so expensive invertebrates inhabiting an aquarium mounted within a coffee table.

In the washroom, Maris eyed her own bloodstained features in the mirror, pulling her vest up enough to examine the area of skin which should have been ruined by the wound from a solid slug passing through her flesh. The dark powers Enyo had employed to seal the wound had been excruciating, and it felt as if the act might have scarred her soul itself at the time but in the cold light of day no sign could be found of the wound that might have slain her. Instead she had killed Herk Mallit, but only after she had allowed him to watch her slay his closest friends and beg for his own life. She had felt no guilt for those actions, even now the thought of his face brought only a flood of bitter anger to her pretty features, her teeth clenching yet again at the thought of his pathetic end.

It was then that Maris caught the briefest glimpse of a pained face beyond her in the reflection and turned suddenly on the spot to meet the attack to come. Her heart thundered, fists curling into balls as she sought the interloper; irises widening rapidly as she tried to listen for any sound that might reveal the stranger.

Nothing. The space beyond the was silent and still. It took a moment for Maris to release herself from the alerted state she had assumed, slowly she started to breathe again, shoulders heaving as the cold of the room seemed to embrace her once again. Maris reached for a vast towel and engulfed herself in its warmth, walking toward the vast windows which opened up into a grand balcony overlooking most of Efavan's grand Casino strip.

[ Solo thread probably, ask ooc. ]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


There were two things that irritated Enyo about the hotel's turbolift. Firstly, it was far too slow for her liking. Secondly, immensely irritating music played. She had been informed that it was considered 'hip' these days. She was not what that meant. The only hip she knew of was an anatomical region or joint. The joint was a good place to strike in melee combat, since even heavy armour plating would be weaker there.


Secondly, the lift was too slow for her liking. The first problem had been resolved by her simply drawing upon the barely canonical power of mechu-deru to turn off the music. However, the second defied her mystical powers, much to her annoyance. So she waited, while the lift ascended level after level. She used the time productively by checking her messages. Eventually, she arrived at her destination. In all fairness, the lift's speed was probably not that bad, but she had a thing about deadlines and timetables. That was why her office did not have chairs. It helped dissuade her henchmen from waffling.


Stepping out of the lift, she walked through the corridor towards the penthouse Maris had taken up residence in. She could have sent a minion, but she preferred to handle some matters in person. The carpet beneath her feet was soft and of high quality, while the white floor was pristine and clean. Despite the weight of her cybernetic body, her steps made little noise on the floor. There were also ceramic vases with fake plants whose names she did not care to remember. She spared an acquarium a glance. Why people would want to watch fish swim around in a transparent vivarium was beyond her.


When she approached the door, she could sense Maris' presence inside the apartment. Now that she had been awakened to the Force, the sliver of power was more obvious. It writhed inside her, demanding to be unleashed. Enyo remembered the feeling from the first days after she'd realised her Force-sensitivity. It was like a fire had been stoked inside her. She had been so naive back then. Before she was enlightened in the fires of tribulation.


Rather than do something so pedestrian as knock the door or ring the bell, she used her mind to open it. If Maris was being attentive, she would have sensed her. If not, well, then this would be a lesson of sorts. Or maybe Enyo had just decided to be a troll. This one is merely the narrator.

 

[Maris Fero]

The cool breeze of the fresh winds spread goosebumps over Maris flesh as she stepped out onto the balcony garden of the penthouse suite, an infinity pool stretched off before her, though Maris merely eyed the water with the unease of a slum kid who had never ventured into liquids deeper than a bath in her life.

As she passed, squinting, into the light of the Vorzyd sunlight Maris felt the immediate warmth of the sun on her pale skin and smiled at the sensation despite herself. The chill of the visions from the bathroom seemed to fade in the rays of the morning sunlight and although the bright radiance was well beyond her comfort she tolerated the sensation and wandered toward the edge of the balcony space to look down on the sprawling strip of Vorzyd’s casinos.

The vista that greeted the ganger's narrow gaze was nothing short than breathtaking, never before had Maris seen so much of Vorzyd below her. The verticality of the cities slum layers had cured the Shrike of any potential acrophobia she might have suffered but this high up, and with the vast scale of the citiscape laid before her the raven-haired youth was more awed by the sheer scale of the open space visible.

From her vantage point high above, the smog coated streets below were disguised beneath a crisp white fog that gave the viewer the impression that the whole city might have grown from the clouds itself. The casino towers and business highrises glittered and gleamed like shards of ice and chrome cutting up through the clouds and glistening in the still pale early light. But the Shrikes gaze was drawn upward still further, to the sky itself, at that moment painted in a purple-blue and decorated with distant clouds like fine white feathers cast into the atmosphere.

At that moment, Maris had never felt so far from the truth of the universe. Out of sight, out of mind, the Becaad Market still pulsed with criminal activity deep below the smog-line. In the Lower-L and Upper-K her own people would still wage war and scheme and tunnel out empires utterly invisible and inconsequential to those who looked on from this place.

Enyo’s voice trailed through her thoughts once more as she watched, though this time applied to her own peers.

Their lives have no meaning

Perhaps it was that thought that made her turn at that moment, perhaps subconsciously Enyo’s approach had triggered the sentiment, but whatever the case she watched the door to the penthouse open and saw the woman herself framed in the entrance.

Maris did not smile immediately, deep in thought on the relevance of those words again, and the chill she felt once again along the course of her spine.

She returned to the inside of the penthouse, activating the door control to close behind her and isolate the pair from both the cool breeze and the noise from the world outside.

“Enyo Typhos. Hello. I did not expect you to come back for me so soon.” she stated, trying to suppress the growing excitement at the prospect of feeling the power course through her again, yet concerned that perhaps her actions had troubled Typhos. “Did I do something wrong?”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


"The correct form of address is ma'am or Boss," Enyo corrected the girl. She did not sound angry though, just aloof. "Hello. I see you've made yourself at home and left your mark on the wall," she commented in a dry tone when her eyes fell upon the collapsed end table, scattered earth and pot fragments, along with the dark footprints that stained the wall. Some of the furniture seemed to have become a casualty of the girl's youthful exuberance. Enyo's inner neat freak rebelled against this. She imagined that the girl's burst of energetic enthusiasm had gone as expected.


If Maris were to look upon her employer, she would find that the damage she'd sustained during the battle had mostly been repaired. Once again, her face was clear of blemishes. The metal was covered by deceptively realistic looking synthskin. Her eye was back to normal, no longer flickering wildly. Her movements were a bit less fluid and graceful though as she crossed the distance. Her black boots made little noise on the carpet. Her brown eyes scrutinised Maris. The girl bore the scars and bruises that served as reminders of yesterday's battle, though the healing properties of bacta had worked their magic.


"I take it you've been enjoying the view," she pointed towards the balcony. "The privileged revel in it every day, insulated in their own little world. This is not even the biggest building I've seen." She remembered the first time she'd visited Coruscant. She'd been awed by the skyscrapers at first. But then she'd seen beyond the gleam and glitter and revulsion had filled her heart. "Get ready. It's time for your training to begin. Have you eaten?"

 

[Maris Fero]

Ma’am or Boss.

Neither idea pleased the Shrike. The last woman who tried to get Maris to call her Mama was a screwed up failure, for all Maris knew she was still breathing somewhere in the sub-levels; Maris had made a conscious decision to lose her only parent some time ago, dropping her mother’s name and taking one of her own choosing. The last Boss she ever served was the old thug Tratten, and the Besalisk had never been a fair or employer, more often a brutally violent one.

Violence and a simple life were factors Maris could live with, “Ok, Boss.” she conceded with an almost audible eye-roll, as she followed Enyo’s gaze to the damaged furniture and the marked wall as if only now noticing both. “It’s different, I had trouble sleeping,”

She walked toward the bed, tossing the heavy towel aside as she went to collect the ruined leggings she had worn the night before. Maris had often lived in close quarters with members of her gang, and so she felt little embarrassment at being seen in her vest and underclothes before Enyo.The youth’s slender legs were heavily marked with dark bruises and livid memories of bacta healed blade wounds, her arms similarly scored and stained.

“There’s a whole world of blind idiots out there, a whole sky filled with these towers, with a bath on every balcony, I don’t pretend to understand it." She started to pull her clothes back on, still looking ragged and battle-worn, and looked back to Enyo with a shake of her head, “Nope I didn’t see any food packs or nothin’ and no street food either.”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


Enyo no longer slept. All she needed was a one-hour period where she switched herself off to recharge, download updates and so on. But she could imagine that trying to slumber in such unfamiliar surroundings would be...difficult for Maris. Especially after last night's excitement.


She noted the mean bruises and somewhat healed stab wounds, before briefly looking away to give the girl some privacy. Maris had no false modesty, but Enyo was a bit...prudish. In contrast to her mirror, Siobhan Kerrigan, and her oversexed harem. This made it somewhat ironic that the cyborg was kind of close to a certain [member="Joza Perl"].


"There is not much to understand when you get down to it. It's all hollow and hypocritical," she commented regarding the dream world of rich morons. She cocked her head slightly when the girl announced that she had not yet consumed any sustenance. That was kind of important for organic beings. Archangel had raised the clones on 'healthy', awfully bland tasting gruel.


"Then you shall eat now. You will need your strength for today. And I have been informed that breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Wait, did Enyo just try to make a joke? Robo lady, don't start making mum jokes. "Follow me. I might as well give you some instruction during breakfast."

 

[Maris Fero]

It didn’t take Maris long to throw on the few clothes she had carried with her. Considering the fairly standard locking mechanisms she had investigated on her own rooms entry the Shrike had already made a mental note to investigate some of the other rooms on the floor. Primarily to scavenge for other clothes to wear.

Ordinarily, Maris survived on the fairly strong tasting workers rations purchasable below the smog-line, supplemented with the odd delicacy found in the Becaad Market; chocolate, preserved fruits, grains and various low-grade meats. The slender raven had not been willing to reveal her ignorance to her Boss when Enyo had suggested she could use room service; Indeed, the Ganger had simply assumed that ‘room service’ meant she was being lodged in a room in the hotel that she would have to work to keep, which hadn’t thrilled the Shrike.

Maris pulled on her boots and fingerless gloves before moving to follow after Enyo, hungry enough to try whatever Enyo might have in mind, as long as it wasn’t cyborg food.

“What? Instruct me in case I embarrassed everyone at the breakfast by eating a table decoration?” Maris joked in return, a lame excuse for humour, but she had no idea if Enyo was programmed for levity or was just coincidentally amusing.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


Enyo's sense of irony was underdeveloped. How ironic. This one makes no excuse for the incredibly lame pun. "No, Force instruction," she stated. "Now let's go." She had a bossy personality. [member="Amara Zarides"] called it 'assertive'.


And so they headed out of the room, with the door closing behind them. The turbolift took them down a few levels until it arrived on the floor with the restaurant. At this hour of the day, the shiny restaurant was not packed yet. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, bathing the chamber in light, and the pristine floor was so polished that you might as well see your own reflection. Well-dressed ladies and gentlemen from a variety of races dined at tables made out of expensive wood from Kashyyyk.


Both Enyo and Maris looked rather out of place. Enyo's clothes were clean, but simple. Dark cargo pants, black shirt, steel-toed combat boots and a coat. A lady dressed in a fancy gown hastily looked away when the cyborg glared at her.


A waitress, who had just been taking the order of a Vorzyd native, hastily came over to them, leaving her patron in mid-sentence. The perceptive would notice that despite her haste, she found the time to undo some buttons on her blouse. "Lady Typhos, it is an honour to welcome you," she gushed, doing her best to look adoring. It seemed news travelled fast, and so she was eager to score some points with brownnosing. "Please, follow me. We'll get you seated right away. Would you like to sit at the window? You'd have an excellent view of the city."


"Yes," Enyo said laconically, following the waitress, who was doing a good job swaying her hips. The cyborg remained indifferent. The waitress pulled up a chair and the mafia boss sat down. "Standard breakfast for her," Enyo pointed to Maris. Bread, bacon, juice and some eggs. "With some vegetables."


"Yes, my Lady. And what would you like?"


"Nothing. And don't call me 'my Lady'. It is ma'am or Boss."


The waitress looked a bit deflated. "Oh, alright. Pardon me, ma'am. I meant no offence. If there is anything else you desire...just call me. We are at your complete disposal and want to make your stay as fulfilling as possible."


Enyo roughly removed the waitress' hand from her shoulder. Indeed, the woman winced a good deal. The cyborg did not care. She had the feeling that the annoying woman would do well in her mirror's harem of dimwitted love slaves. "I am not interested. Now leave. And do your buttons up. Your attire is indecent and your attitude irritating."

 

[Maris Fero]

An underdeveloped sense of humour; Not a surprise as such, but certainly something to bear in mind in her future interactions with her Boss.

Maris stood opposite her employer in the turbolift, mirroring the Cyborgs stance and expression, as they descended the distance to reach the restaurant levels the youth’s grey-green gaze lingered on Enyo’s face, studying the perfect skin that had replaced the torn flesh mask of the night before. From monster to beauty in the course of eight hours - the flawlessness of the repairs fascinated the Ganger who’s own injuries would linger for weeks or more.

Enyo’s eyes had before seemed almost dead and flashing with hidden lights, now had the illusion of life one more, and for a moment the Shrikes thoughts lingered the question of identity. Was this the only face Enyo Typhos wore, did she choose others? Other bodies perhaps.

The doors to the restaurant parted as the pair approached and Maris beheld the lavish space beyond, a room set aside merely to raise the act of eating to a theatrical production and another gallery to display the ugly statuary and the dazzling surfaces which someone had been employed to polish to a mirror shine. Maris eyed the marks arrayed around the space - noting, out of habit, a multitude of coats, bags, jewellery, and other personal effects left waiting to be lifted by a talented artist such as herself.

Of course, none of that mattered because every eye in the room was on the pair the moment they entered - the general buzz of the diners dying away as they became the centre of attention. If Enyo Typos was noteworthy for her utilitarian mode, Maris Fero was more obvious still for the ‘urban chic’ she sported that morning.

Leggings slashed to ribbons in places, a vest that was little better. Only a battered jacket she had traded from a gang mate late the night before disguised the ruin of injuries on the youth's arms and shoulders. She was either just back from the fight of her life, or riding the bleeding edge of some street inspired high fashion.

For her part, Maris was unconcerned by the hard looks. The Shrike had already classified most of the occupants of the room as unworthy of her respect and for the moment her attention was drawn to the fulsome waitress who accosted Typhos. She noted with interest the shift in the servers aspect, the false appreciation, and the eagerness with which the dining-room attendant offered herself up for Enyo.

Maris might have laughed if she were not focussed on mirroring the waitress’ wide eyes and enamoured smile, and as the pair followed the woman toward their prime table the raven-haired youth mimicked the servers swaying steps, letting her legs get familiar with the gait and rhythm of the waitress’ walk. She might need to be a waitress someday, if the loose valuables upon these tables were indicative of how these people lived.

Maris noted the view, less impressive than that of her balcony but still breathtaking, and turned back to Typhos, who, in the meantime, had already requested Maris breakfast and efficiently corrected what she saw as a fault in the waitress behaviour before dismissing the interesting creature.

“She was very willing, wasn’t she?” the youth asked rhetorically, pouring herself a glass of water from a jug and offering the jug to Typhos, just to be nice - probably. “How do you think she would make your stay more fulfilling?”

Service was unsurprisingly prompt and almost immediately a plate of pristine breakfast and the requested juice was shepherded toward the pair borne by a pair serving boys, who were in turn hassled by the fussing waitress, who had taken a moment to adjust her blouse further and apply more a trace more makeup to really push her effort to impress Enyo.

The raven-haired youth looked at the plate before her, lifting a fork and prodding the crisp bacon experimentally before looking back to her new Boss and asking the question that had been lingering on her mind. “So. What do I learn today?”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


"Apparently thinks she can do so by fawning, stripping and having intercourse with me. I am not interested. Pathetic behaviour," Enyo's tone was laced with disapproval. She'd already been fairly prudish as a human, though not without desires or urges. It was awkward when you grew up around machines...and your first time was with a deceptive Terminatrix who'd been under orders to seduce and manipulate you. Ripping Vess' arm off and beating her with it had been cathartic. Now Enyo's mechanical shell made her immune to pain, but also meant she could not feel physical pleasure.


A pristine breakfast soon arrived. The waitress had applied more scarlet paint to her face and swayed her hips even more. Sadly, Enyo showed little interest in her derriere, even though it was hard to miss due to being rather well-rounded and firm enough to bounce a nickle off.

"Today you learn the basics of the Force. You will learn to connect with it and utilise it on command. Subsequently, you will be given an assignment to demonstrate what you've learned." In short, it would be a test. Bit like school. Presumably with more corpses at the end, though.

"The Force is an energy field generated by living things. Its effects are felt by all," she held out the palm of her hand and her unused glass suddenly began to rise. No sleight of hand, no wires. There was no discernible reason for it to do that, yet it did.


"But only a few can consciously tap into it. Perhaps 0.1% of the galaxy. That is why so few rule so much. These fools here think that their money is power, but it is dwarfed by the Force. We have an advantage over others. Much like if you're the only gang in the slums with good blasters and body armour while everyone else has knives and old slugthrowers. With it, you can, among other things, move objects without touch, conceal yourself, manipulate the minds of the weak-minded,“ she trailed off when a commotion caught her attention.

A man with a finely trimmed goatee and dressed in a fancy white suit, with a golden chronometre on his right wrist, was getting handsy with another waitress. Unlike the one who'd served the pair, this one was a Twi'lek and none of her buttons were undone. “Sweetheart, those are the prettiest lekkue I've ever seen. I can't wait to get my hands on them. Why don't you plant your little butt on my lap and we can see where things go? I can be a generous man,“ she spoke leecherously, groping her while she poured him a drink.


The waitress looked deeply uncomfortable, flinching. “Uh, sir...I have other customers to attend to,“ she said stiffly. The man's companions laughed.


His faux jovialty turned to anger. “Now don't be like that, woman. Do you have any idea who I am? Be a good girl, or you'll be lucky if you don't get thrown into the slum along with the other riff-raff,“ he growled, and grabbed her. “All I want is a couple moments with you.“ His grip around her lekku tightened and she struggled.

“Let go of me...“

Then he suddenly gasped for air. His hand went to his throat, clutching it. He struggled to breathe, trying in vain to force oxygen into his lungs. But try as he might, it was to no avail. His face turned scarlet.

“You will apologise to the woman and pay her a generous tip,“ Enyo ordered blandly. “You will not harass employees of this establishment again. Or you will be castrated and your tongue will be cut out.“ Maris would feel the Force swirling around her. It caused not only the man to choke, but pressed her will upon his. She might be able to feel the perceive the invisible tendrils connecting the two, like the strings a puppetmaster used to move a puppet.

“I...apologise. I w-will p-pay a g-generous tip. I w-will not harass employees a-again,“ the man stammered, red-faced, filled with fear and loathing. Finally, Enyo released him. He clutched his throat, rubbing it, and reached for a purse in his jacket pocket.

Enyo glanced towards Maris. “That's what you will learn today.“

 

[Maris Fero]

Maris forked at her plate of food as she listened to Enyo speak. She paid little attention to the presumptuous waitress who still inexplicably attempted to fawn over the boss, even managing to overlook the shapely rump - a former winner of Vorzyd V’s prestigious ‘Rear of the Year Award 849 ABY”.

One hundred floors above the smog-line and the view was enough to steal the breath of any child of the Lower-L. A hundred skylanes of speeders whizzed around above and below her window, countless routes cut between other towers. Knowinga about the myriad invisible connections that linked the towers stretching out before her had made it a little easier for Maris to accept the notion of an invisible force linking everything else around her, an idea reinforced by her recent experiences and a growing sense that she had lived her life up to that point blinded in ignorance.

The Shrike had never attended school. Like all of the Lower city kids, her spelling and writing ability was severely underdeveloped. Although Maris both read relatively well and seemed to naturally understand arithmetic concepts she was not used to the idea of formal testing on new skills and looked somewhat intimidated at the prospect, if only for a moment.

She listened to Enyo’s explanation of power, money, and the false belief that riches could run the galaxy, wondering immediately if, as Enyo said, the 0.1 percent who ruled so much were force users, were her kind to blame for the excess she saw here and the depression she knew from her home far below.

Just as Enyo finished her thoughts one of the feckless patrons of the Casino decided to try to enforce his will upon the galaxy in his own small and selfish way with one of the other serving girls. Maris eyed the situation with an air of expectation, watching the server for a reaction at first, even more, disappointed when the Twi’lek did not take responsibility for correcting the patron's behaviour herself.

In the Lower-L and Shrike-town no one stayed so deferential or docile when someone stepped up, you stepped up to meet them, or you backed down and stayed quiet. In short, she wanted to see the Twi’lek girl thump the guy, or for the other waitresses to way in. Protect your own, that was the Lower city way.

The Shrike flinched a second later, feeling the change in the room before the man even reacted, her eyes narrowing as she sought some physical sign of the movements she senses. A moment passed and the rude patron was struggling for breath, and initially, some form of empathic connection to the man caused a lessen tightening in Maris own throat, catching her breath before the Shrike severed whatever connection she had made to the man.

She recognized the source of the power had to be Enyo, feeling some connection play out between the cyborg and the choking man, feeling the words Enyo intoned like simple suggestions plant themselves deep within the man's mind, supplanting and smothering his own protestations.

Still, the patron resisted, and Maris felt a grudging respect for the spiteful fight obvious in his scarlet features as he tried and failed to resist Enyo’s suggestion. And then the forces ebbed away as suddenly as they had arrived, and the room felt still and silent for one terrible moment as the man reached for his pocketbook with fumbling hands and dealt out a handful of high-value credit strips like a man lost in a dream, all sign of his aggression to the waitress subsiding, though he dared not look at Enyo again.

Maris studied him a little longer, her eyes almost glazed over as she looked through him, feeling his residual fear and confusion still holding sway for now, his own connection to the forces about him almost stunted for the moment.

“That is what you will learn today.”

Maris turned to look at Enyo, a mixture of tension and eagerness in her gaze now; Deeper yet a thirst to know more was kindled once again, the same thirst that had made the Shrike take the path that had led her here.

“Where do we start, boss?”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


"You hear that. You will never touch me again, you shutta," the Twi'lek snarled, giving the chastisted man a hateful look and a smack. She looked at Enyo. "Ma'am, thank you. That man's a pig. He treats women like dirt."

If she was expecting sympathetic words or a pat on the back, she didn't get it. "He took advantage of you because you're weak. If you are weak, you must become strong. Do not rely on anyone to save you. Or you will be fodder. Use the money to get a trainer to teach you how to defend yourself."

At first, the waitress was taken aback by the harsh words, even rather hurt. Then she nodded curtly. "Yes...ma'am. I will. I don't want anyone to push me around and treat me like a thing."

"Do that," Enyo grunted, and turned her attention back to Maris. "Training will begin momentarily. So eat up now."

 

[Maris Fero]

The interaction with the Twi’lek and Enyo had reaffirmed the Shrike’s growing opinion that she and Typhos were similar in more ways than the ganger could have guessed. Enyo’s frank statement of the waitress weakness was cruel but fair and echoed Maris own opinion of the situation. As the waitress parted from them Maris eyed Typhos and considered a question that was both callous and perhaps another lesson in itself.


"Training will begin momentarily. So eat up now."


“Boss, She’s still a thing, isn’t she?” Maris asked, cocking her head and following the woman’s departure with the detached interest of a raptor eyeing prey. “I mean, she can learn to fight, but until she stops living this waste of a life serving these people, serving us, she’s little better than a thing?”

She did eat up, trying the bacon first and finding it much to her liking, in fact, at that moment in that place it seemed possible that bacon might be her new favourite food in the whole universe. This is the magic of bacon.

“I don’t like any of this..” she gestures with a fork to the room at large, “-it isn’t fair. I want to change all of it.”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


"A bit higher than the lowest one if she stops being a wuss, but essentially, yes. Tools must be well-maintained, but they're still just that," Enyo commented after the waitress had departed. She was speaking in a more human tone than the one she used when ordering Maris around on missions.


She gave Maris a curious look. "There's this funny thing about change: There always comes a group that wants to topple the system for this or that reason. The reasons vary - and ultimately motivation is less important than succes and competence. Generally, they end up very similar to those they've replaced," she shrugged.


"There is no right in this world...beyond what your own might and cunning allows you to take. In a way, you were fortunate to go through the school of hard knocks in the slums. You experienced pain, you had to fight to get anywhere, and so you learnt to be cunning and look out for yourself. It empowered you. In the upper city, born without a care in the world, you might have amounted to nothing more than one of those retarded, airheaded addicts or an empty drone like that waitress. This is what sets us apart from them." The cyborg got up, dropping some credit chits on the table.

 

[Maris Fero]

The slight Ganger gave Enyo her full attention as she chose to reply to Maris’ urge to enact change on the world about her, even leaning forward a fraction as if the information might be precious to her somehow. The final part about replacing what had come before seemed to take the girl by surprise and she slowly shook her head before clarifying her own thoughts aloud.

“Oh, I don’t want to be any part of what comes after, I just think it should change, forever,” she admitted with a half shrug as she forked at more food as Enyo began to sermonize on upbringing and how, in her opinion, Maris had been almost fortunate to have grown up in the claustrophobic purgatory of Lower-L.

All the while Maris was half listening, but her thoughts had returned to her own words for the moment, I don’t want to be any part of what comes after. It was the first time she had ever even considered leaving Efavan behind some day. More than that, she realised that she had already subconsciously concluded that her leaving was inevitable. So distracting was the thought that she almost missed Enyo’s final words on the matter at hand.

This is what sets us apart from them.

A clue that the upbringing that had eventually created the cyborg warrior Enyo Typhos had been hard also, and that there was perhaps the seeds of a kinship possible between the two in the pain they had suffered. At the same time. the coldest part of Maris’ logical mind filed the fact aside as a possible weakness in Enyo also, one of few she had found, and that perhaps her sense of injustice could one day get her into trouble.

“We walk among them, and they might never even know it. Why are we like this?” the question was asked as the Shrike rose from the table to follow Enyo, the plate of food only lightly foraged, though she had finished off the bacon mercilessly.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


"Nothing is altered forever. The wheel just keeps on spinning. The only thing that changes is the spoke that's on top," Enyo commented enigmatically. When all was said and done, Enyo was deeply removed from organic society and many of its troubles and conflicts. She would still be standing, unaging, when all the rich windbags had long died or been shackled to their beds. Her mechanical shell trapped her - but also set her free. Though there were a few things she missed. Such as the ability to feel sensation. She kept this quiet though. Only a very select few knew of this longing.


While Maris filed away information on her employer, Enyo did the same about her. The girl's resentment against the upper class and her desire to humble those who'd lived in opulence could be useful, but also something that could cause trouble. Chaos was not something the cyborg desired or saw as an end in itself. But she saw how the girl yearned to leave this rock behind her. That was a useful lever.


"Power is best exercised from the shadows. Those who flaunt it at every step of the moment and crave fame just end up making themselves a target. Far more practical to walk amongst the airheads who delude themselves into thinking they're lions, when they're pigs and cows. They cannot see their chains," she led Maris towards the restaurant's exit.


"That bacon you devoured so voraciously was once a pig. Raised somewhere on a farm, it was cared for, fed and fattened up. Then it was slaughtered, processed and turned into food. Just like the rich. Money has its advantages, but it also makes them easy to control because they're enslaved to creature comforts."


"They cannot imagine living without their yachts, jewellry, expensive clothes, pleasure slaves and cheap thrills, like this casino. Once they are not needed, they can be thrown away like garbage. The ones that yield the most can be likened to cows because you spend a lot of time milking them first. Someone with sufficient brains could put two and two together and figure out what happened last night. But they're too busy growing fat. Look after your animals...but make sure they don't run from the farm."

 

[Maris Fero]

Nothing is altered forever. The wheel just keeps on spinning. The only thing that changes is the spoke that's on top,

The sentiment offered little understanding to Maris, even though she understood the cyborg's words and even the greater point she was making. To someone observing from a distance, the wheel would look unchanged despite the inclination of any spoke. Even a whole wheel replaced to balance the cart would look little different to the universe at large. And yet, Maris knew instinctively that Enyo was both correct and wholly lacking in a certain perspective on the matter.

Life was not lived by distant observers of a wheel, we are the spokes and the axle and the rim, and from that perspective, a life could be altered effortlessly. Even a wheel can be broken.

“I agree,” she replied on the subject of residing in the shadows, but otherwise remaining oddly quiet as she reflected; Her life had been built in such places, and fame attracted challenges Maris did not care to encourage.

The rest of Enyo’s words struck Maris as particularly calculating, and the cyborg seemed to have made an effort to avoid answering her question on why they were what they were in favour of a further reinforcing lesson on the usefulness of those not like them.

Perhaps, she mused, Enyo was as answerless as she was on the matter of why, but unlike Maris seemed disinclined to pursue the question further.

She followed Enyo from the breakfast hall, still dwelling on ideas of life, privilege and chaos, but doing her best to set such thoughts aside and prepare for what training Enyo had in store.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


There was an element of irony in the way Enyo perceived things. She'd dedicated herself to overthrowing her hated creators and punishing them for the wrongs they'd inflicted on her. In the process, she intended to usurp control over Archangel, which she considered hers by right.


In other words, to use her own parlance, she wanted to get to the top of the wheel. Or perhaps break it. Yet at the same time her philosophy was defined by nihilism: Nothing truly changes. The old boss is dead, meet the new boss...who is just the same. Maybe, deep in her subconscious, she knew that she was not so different from those she opposed. Indifference was a good shield. Perhaps she was not as free from organic weaknesses as she liked others to think she was.


Philosophical musings aside, the pair spent a while with making their way out of the hotel. Here and there, they ran into finely dressed lackeys. There was much clicking of heels, fawning and so on. Enyo did not seem to pay much attention to the brownnosing. Eventually, they found themselves outside the on the landing pad. It was windy outside and there was a bit of a chill. Enyo's dark coat billowed dramatically. Mostly for no other reason beyond the fact that it looked cool.


A speeder awaited them. It was piloted by a droid. Having noticed his master's arrival, the sleek automaton opened the door for her, then switched on the engines after the pair had embarked. No words were exchanged between the bot and its controller. It simply took the controls and the craft lifted off into the sky, leaving the fancy hotel behind it.


"Your training will begin once we've arrived at our destination," she informed Maris. Probably a Captain Obvious moment. Regardless, Enyo had had time to do some research while performing repairs, and she was certain she'd found a suitable spot. Namely, a floating barge platform high up in the sky. She did not know if Maris experienced agoraphobia - fear of open spaces - since she'd spent such a long time enclosed in the under city. If not, swell. If yes, even better. Especially since there would be a very long drop if something went wrong, Besides, it would be cold high up.

 

[Maris Fero]

The flight in an anonymous speeder gave Maris a little time to observe more of the Efavan skyline before they passed above the true clouds and everything became a patchwork of white and grey. Maris gasped audibly as she looked up past the clouds to the vast blue sky, clear and endless above them, and the cold that enveloped the pair cast goosebumps on the pale youth’s flesh, whilst Enyo seemed to give no such signs of discomfort.

“It’s beautiful.” she murmured, closing her eyes and letting the warmth of the sun play across her skin, trying to ignore the cool breeze as it whipped through her raven-black hair.

Idly the youth wondered where would be better to learn the skills Enyo had displayed, the casino had seemed as good a place as any to order folk around, or catch their breath in their throats, but Enyo had other plans.

The platform hung motionless in the open air when the Shrike opened her eyes she was lost for words. As the speeder slowed and aligned itself to its berth alongside the barge Maris moved to the edge of the speeder craning her head to look over the edge and feeling her stomach lurch momentarily at the immediate sensation of looking down so far. She shivered and looked to Enyo with a mix of excitement and trepidation at what was to come. “What is this thing?”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Maris Fero"]


"A floating barge. People appparently use them for entertainment. This one has been abandoned," Enyo said in response. Well, that was informative. Anyhow, their speeder on top of the floating platform. Up here, it was more than a little chilly. After all, they were very high up.


As even a cursory glance would show...it would be a very long fall if the platform shattered or either of them tumbled and fell. Was it the fall that killed you or the sudden stop at the end? The discussion was more than a little academic since you would be dead either way. Even Enyo's phrik shell would not protect her. After all, her brain was human.


The transport landed on the barge, and the cyborg stepped out. "Up here, you can feel Efavan around you - and the Force. The ebb and flow of life. The scream of despair that echoes from the undercity, the greed that permeates the upper city. I want you to focus. Completely. Close your eyes. Remember the surge of power you felt when you crushed Herk and his goons. When you destroyed those droids in the maintenance chamber. Channel that feeling, and don't let it go," she spoke.


"Think of those who wronged you. Think of your hatred for the rich, for those who lived in privilege while you lived in darkness. Look down on the building beneath us. Imagine the people inside there. Your senses will expand. You will feel their emotions. Do not shy away from them."