Long Nights With Dark Lords

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Satyijau'ira? Dialect she did not understand. She didn't like that. She didn't like that at all. If that were some secretive language that beheld only a few scholars she was hesitant to learn of who they were. His proclamation of the word was brought upon with a mildly concerning stare of the Twi'lek. It was as if he had achieved some other great victory by attempting to rename his prisoner. Her lekku twisted and contorted, a rather insulting gesture to those who understood the native language, something she was certain the foolish Sith Lord did not understand. It would bring a mild sense of satisfaction to her, though she would maintain her composure. Her voice returned to her normal tone, a slight hint of defiance behind her words.

"My name is important. Call me otherwise, but my name is Seraphina. I will not forsake it, and you cannot take that away from me."

There was one thing she would refuse to give away, and that was her identity instilled in her at birth by her parents. The one thing she truly cherished was her family. Servant, slave, or not, she would not give him the satisfaction of stripping her of both name and person. Her eyes averted from the Sith Lord to the chamber they were in. She hadn't recognized it, so they must have been on another level. Judging by the architecture it seemed like a sublevel from where they had fought one another within the prison. Her mind was too a gift, one that, unlike the Force, could not be tampered with by Ixetal Cilona. She would remember each and every corridor, pathway, chamber, and cell she was brought to and through. Marking a mental map of each sector for when the time came to escape this hell that [member="Darth Vornskr"] had enslaved her to.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He raised his index finger and waggled it disappointingly back and forth in front of [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"], "Tsk tsk tsk, Satyijau'ira! Just when I thought we were making real process, now it looks like you'll have to undergo some reeducation." At some telepathic signal given from Vornskr a pair of burly guards trudged through chamber's entryway, and moved to rush the Twi'lek to deliver the heavy end of his stun baton to her gut while the other moved to roughly grab her arms and pin them behind her. All Vornskr had to do was point to one of the racks built into the wall to signal them to drag the winded Twi'lek over to it, and shackle her in with her back facing out towards them. The Sith Lord turned away for a moment, his eyes scanning over a tray of various torture instruments ranging from surgical saws to serrated daggers to vials filled with venomous fluid.

But it was the neuronic whip that Vornskr wrapped his calloused fingers around.

He turned back towards the re-shackled Satyijau'ira and gave a threatened crack of the whip, which sizzled and popped with latent electricity stored in the long, flexible cable. He took up position behind her, the two dungeoneers taking position to either side of him but several paces back, and after another crack of the whip he proceeded to lash her across the back. "That was a warning, little Satyijau'ira. Now tell me what your name is, and remember... I'll know if you're lying!" He prepared the whip for another strike...

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

A tremor of trepidation surged through the Twi'lek as [member="Darth Vornskr"] decreed that she undergo punishment for her defiance. She watched as the two rather large guards entered the room, her feet stepping back a couple of paces as if to salvage an extra moment or two before the additional torture began. A loud cry escaped her vocal chords as the brute with the stun baton saw fit to thrust it with a show of force hard into her stomach. Sera would have fallen to her knees had it not been for the other guard to maintain her helpless stance. Her eyes looked to Kaine, though he said nothing as she was dragged to the far wall and once again restrained, this time facing away from the Sith Lord and his servants.

Sera drew a deep breath, wondering what kind of horrid punishment he was about to subject her to. Luckily for her she needn't wait much more than a few seconds! Her ears caught the sound of the whip as it sparked and snapped with electric current. Immediately the girl's knees shook, knowing what was coming. From where he stood he would see the nervous looking female quiver in anticipation. The moment she felt the crack of the weapon across her back backed by the power of a charge of electricity her body tensed, her muscles spasming wildly. A shrieking scream poured loudly from her, her knees buckling, though unable to fall due to the metallic restraints.

Her eyes stung as small drops of water began to pool in the outer corners of her sockets. The shirt she'd just been given tore ever so slightly across where the whip had contacted, a bit of blood marking across the skin. She shut her eyes, lips quivering, though remained silent. Perhaps if she refrained from answering he would spare her another strike.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He let loose the whip again, and again, and then a final time before giving the Twi'lek some small respite. By now her back was marked by each lash with blood seeping into the torn fabric, small droplets sinking down to the floor that had drunk deeply from the blood of tortured souls for who knows how long. Her screams gave him a modicum of satisfaction, as did each rend in his flesh made by his tool, but it was the breaking of her will that he truly desired. She was still feisty despite all that she had been through and he could respect her will resolve in the face of such adversity, but everything had a breaking point. It was just a matter of time until he found hers, and his arm wasn't getting tired anytime soon.

"I ask you again" he said, "Your name is Satyijau'ira, and you are my slave. Say it with me now and you can prevent your suffering, but continue to deny me and you will only prolong it. Remember that even death cannot save you from my grasp, so resistance is pointless." No doubt she would resist him again, as was her right. But that only meant that the whip would crack again, and crack it did as it lashed her back over and over with hard heavy swings by the Sith Lord's arm. About around the eighth or ninth lash did he give her another respite, the ground now slick with blood and sweat from her battered frame.

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME, SLAVE?" he bellowed, the scent of blood stuck in his nostrils giving hunger to his words.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Each lashing elicited a more frantic, shrieking exclamation of pain. Her back felt as if it were on fire. The canyons made by the whip had filled with blood and began running a steady stream down her back. Her muscles, fit as they were, were already aching in protest of the repeated electric battering they were receiving. On the final lashing before he spoke she wrapped her hands around the shackles that bound her to the wall, trying desperately to tear herself free, only to reel in shock once more with the final cast of the whip. The Twi'lek fell back to her knees, dangling by her arms as if nothing more than dead weight. She sobbed, her breathing heavy and stuttered. She listened once more to his demands. The name he called her.Regardless of what it meant she despised it. She hated the very idea of being renamed by his will. It was atrocious. Indeed she would resist again, shouting her birth name over and over with each crack of the whip. "Seraphina! Seraphina!" Despite her defiance, her voice betrayed her in those moments. With each crack of the whip her tone grew softer and softer, while her name grew shorter and shorter, "Sera! Se!" until she fell silent for the final two strikes.

Finally, her state of mind had deteriorated. Like any sane being, when pushed to the brink, there was always a moment where sensibility gives way to the pain and suffering in hopes for reprieve. Despite her convictions and resolve, she too was merely a mortal. A mortal with no aide from the Force. No way to reduce the pain, to stop the bleeding, to shield herself from harm. As he demanded once more, through glossy, swollen eyes she gave in to his request. She could no longer stand, her back was a wall of fire, and the tears she cried had made a bit of a puddle beneath her. Through heavy breaths and stuttering she repeated the name [member="Darth Vornskr"] longed to hear.

"Satyijau'ira"​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Suddenly the shackles holding [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"] upright unlocked with a sharp snap, allowing the beaten Twi'lek to tumble down to the blood slick floor. The pair of dungeoneers quickly moved forward to grab her by both arms, haul her up so that her feet were at least touching the ground, and brought her before the wicked Sith Lord. He motioned for her to be pulled further upward despite what strain that may put on her arms so that he could look into her tear-stricken face. He gently cupped her chin with his left hand (his right one still held onto the whip) and he forced her to gaze up at his soulless eyes, although they now burned with unadulterated jubilation.

"I told you, didn't I? You would break like the others, although I must commend you on your conviction... short-lived although it may have been." He let her head fall forward, and he deactivated the whip before tossing it back onto the nearby tray. He seemed to idle for a moment before he returned and grabbed her face again, albeit more harshly this time. "Remember this. You are mine now, you are mine! Your name is Satyijau'ira and you are mine!" He let her go, and then began to instruct both of his dungeoneers: "Take her to her new cell, and don't leave that door unguarded even for a moment." He then stormed off to Force knows where, leaving her alone with the two jailers who proceeded to haul her up painfully and callously drag her out of the chamber and into the stark featureless hall.

They'd drag her along the same scenery for what seemed like an hour before reaching a magnetically sealed door and proceeded to open it with a security cylinder, and then carelessly tossed her into the room and sealed it behind her. The room itself was furbished to a minimal degree with a couch, a couple more chairs, a table, a bed with sheets, and a standard refresher. There will no windows, and no electronics of any kind in the room. But it was better than her previous cell, and that had to account for something.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The Twi'lek fell promptly to the floor the moment the shackles released their grip on her. A fresh batch of injuries to join her arm and leg. Her hands shielded her face and nothing more as she hit the ground like a rock. Surprisingly she hadn't passed out from the abuse, though as she was lifted from the ground she could feel the lacerations being irritated further by the movement of her back muscles after each steps she was walked toward [member="Darth Vornskr"]. She grimaced and squealed as the two guards lifted her small frame from the ground to the eyes of the Sith Lord. The moment his hand touched her she quivered, half expecting another, more personal assault.

Sera thought to say something snarky despite the beating she had just received. It was simply habitual second nature to her. It was as normal to the Twi'lek as breathing was to organics. Unfortunately, or rather, perhaps fortunately for her, the Sith continued to bask in the sound of his own voice, applying a significantly increased amount of pressure to her cheekbones than a moment ago. He would remind her several times that she was now his property, remind her that he had stripped her of name and persona.

The woman eyed Kaine until he stormed off to go do whatever other Sithly things that raving madmen do. Once he was out of sight the guards began to pull and drag her back towards the prison block. One of them pulled just a bit too hard, eliciting a wild yelp from her. They clearly weren't trained on how to handle prisoners, as he nearly tore her arm from the socket. He looked down at her, most likely to ensure he hadn't done any permanent damage that his master wouldn't approve of. Her eyes continued to watch each and every turn they made from the chamber, memorizing the layout and path as they dragged her along. The pain was near unbearable, though there was nothing she could do but press on, her back leaving a small trail of blood along the way.

Once the jailers had tossed her into the cell as if nothing more than trash she crawled hand over hand to the bed, where it took several minutes to find the strength to lift herself the short distance and onto the top, leaving the sheets beneath her. Anything that touched the open wounds on her back would be certain to cause pain. There she laid quietly, the silence broken only by the occasional whimper, the pillow itself dampening with the moisture from her eyes.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

A day would pass. The sun setting and rising against the backdrop of the bustling Coruscanti skyline, although none of it could be observed from [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]'s featureless chamber. There wasn't even a wall-mounted chrono for her to even keep time, let alone know when the sun blazed across the sky. Only Sera knew what she would do with her own thoughts, for the two dungeoneers assigned to guard her cell door made no sound and only interacted with her when they delivered he food to her. Despite there being no visible camera lens on the walls or ceiling, she would no doubt be unable to escape the nagging feeling of someone watching her every movement. Eventually the reserves of Ixetal cilona in her collar would begin to run low, sending a signal to the nearby dungeoneer checkpoint with a request to refill or change the device completely.

Down the hall a squad of six Dungeoneers would march, the front two armed with an elongated stun baton and a betaplast riotshield while the rest of the dungeoneers carried only the standard stun batons. As a group they approached the cell door, and were quickly identified by the two guards situated to either side of the door via a transmitted signal randomly generated by the communication devices built into their helmets. Once confirmation was achieved the two riot guards would take up vanguard in front of the door while the magnetic locks were disengaged and the door opened via a control panel built into the wall and only accessible via a security cylinder. The cell door opened and the two riot guards stormed in while two others followed them inside while the remaining four remained outside of the threshold, one with his hand on the release mechanism. The two un-shielded guards would move to quickly detain the Twi'lek, using force with their batons if need-be or just for the hell of it before shackling her hands behind her back with stun binders.

From there they would detach the collar from around the prisoner's neck, and would then begin the process of replacing the Ixetal cilona vials built into the collar itself. However; during this crucial moment while the collar was removed and the Ixetal cilona in her system already wearing off, she might find a chance to escape her confinement.

Although the possible repercussions for such would be monstrously dire.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Having slept for an undetermined amount of time, the Twi'lek awoke to the sound of the prison cell being opened. The lacerations on her back were still very raw, with only minor scabs preventing further bleeding from occurring. The slightest bit of pressure would surely splinter and reopen the wounds. Her body was exhausted simply from the act of resting to mend the brutal torture she'd endured over the previous twenty four hours. The guards, as they rushed the room with such hostility to subdue her would find Sera lazily laying on her stomach atop the bed. It would be quite some time before she would be capable of laying on her back. Sera offered no resistance despite their rather brutish show of force to ensure she would not move to escape the room. It was an exercise simply to move about the cell, it would prove utterly futile to make any sort of attempt right then. Though the moment her arms were pulled back behind her, straining the muscles in her shoulders she let out a loud yelp, practically begging them to loosen up even just a hair. One of them felt that her mere cry of pain was sufficient to discipline her, and struck her in the stomach with the baton.

Falling to her knees with a groan, he once again struck her, this time across the face, knocking her to the floor. It was there she lay, entirely motionless, nothing but heavy breathing and fresh water leaking from her eyes. All she wanted was to be left alone, left to herself to lay and sleep. At the moment her mind was not focused on escape, nor the collar that was in the process of being refilled, nor even the future torture she may endure if she didn't at least attempt to escape right then. The only thing she wanted was to close her eyes and sleep. The only peace she knew was in a state of unconsciousness. With the vials refilled, it would only take a moment to refit on her neck. The food that had been brought was all but rotting in the corner of the room. Even if she were hungry, she hadn't the energy to eat anything, nor the desire to eat something that may very well be poisoned for the simple purpose of further torturing her. The water, another gamble, she drank from, if only to keep herself at least hydrated. The floor is where Sera would remain until they finished their job and left her to herself once more. Only then would she crawl back up and into the bed and attempt to rest once more.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

It would be several hours before the door to [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]'s cell would open again, this time ushering in the Sith Lord himself. He had changed out of his ceremonial robes in lieu of mundane gray robes with a thick sash tied at his waist. This time he carried no weapon, yet the Dark Side pulsed within him hungrily and no doubt at any moment he could unleash the power writhing inside him in a manner far more effective than any mortal weapon. And he had not deigned to bring along that abominable woman that had accompanied him during their first torturous meeting, yet no doubt a larger cadre of guards lingered directly outside of the cell. He had also bathed recently, and his skin was lightly powdered with a substance that lightly gave off the scent of vanilla. Yet no matter what he did, there was no true way to escape the smell of decay that hung around him like a shroud.

"Satyijau'ira" he said after a moment of silence. "Come" was his only command, and the index finger of his right hand pointed to the empty space in front of him for emphasis. He didn't seem to care that she had been brutalized beyond all reason, nor did he care if she had any difficulty moving after her punishment. He commanded and she was expected to obey, or suffer again at his callous hand.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The moment that cell door creaked open once more her heart would skip a beat. A tremor shot up her back causing a mild shiver, as if expecting another immediate wave of barbaric assault on her person. She lay there, face buried entirely into the pillow like a burrowing animal, still lying atop the sheet to leave the wounds on her back exposed. To her great surprise there was only silence following a single pair of footsteps that entered. That likely meant that instead of guards, it was him. Sera wasn't sure what he wanted from her this time, but she was happy that he hadn't brought along a second pair of hands to administer anymore fire liquid into her veins.

He spoke that word again, Satyijau'ira. She hated the sound of it. It make her angry simply thinking about its' meaning. Come. At least there were no forceful hands tearing her from her position and pinning her arms behind her back this time. Small victories. The Twi'lek took in a deep breath, slowing pushing herself upright on the bed to face him, eyes catching where he was pointing. A heavy nervous swallow followed. Green eyes looked into those of [member="Darth Vornskr"], then back to the empty space. Slowly she pushed herself from the bed, taking special care not to aggravate her back. It would take a few seconds for her to reach where he pointed. Sera closed her eyes.

"Yes?"​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He lorded over her, a triumph conqueror surveying what he had subdued, and ever minute aspect of his body language boasted of his arrogance. He placed both hands on his hips as he looked down at the battered [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"], and while she was subservient enough on the outside, Vornskr had no doubt that she still seethed with rebellion deep within. Still, that could be torn out and disposed of at his own leisure, and for now he had other ideas for his pink captive. "Do you see now the futility of it all, Satyijau'ira? The futility of your resistance, the futility of the Republic, and the futility of your Order? The Sith have come to restore order to this fractured galaxy, and soon enough the Jedi will be a memory vehemently whispered by the generations to come. The galaxy stands at the precipice of ultimate change, and unlike many of your brethren I have given you the tools to survive the coming pogrom."

Perhaps it hadn't seen like it at first, but through the indoctrination of pain Vornskr was allowing his new toy to skirt with the Dark Side of the Force. He could feel her anger whenever he inflicted some new atrocity against her, he could feel the desire to crush his throat and leave him gasping for air while she rejoiced. It was a powerful emotion, anger; the desire to achieve vengeance against one's tormentor. He had known such feelings well, but on a whole different scale than what she was feeling. He had been trapped in Chaos by the vengeful spirits of his murdered mother and father, who even in death remained childishly spiteful and narrow-minded. You would have thought that death would've given them a new perspective on their existence, but perhaps their minds had been broken by his betrayal and they could never cope with their ultimate fate.

But he had reminded them, he showed them the price of torturing his malnourished soul. Hate was his only ally then, and with it he destroyed his father's spirit utterly. Nothing remained of his consciousness, nothing for the Cosmic Force to absorb into its vastness. His mother, however; had been only grazed by his power, and was helpless when he had descended upon her and began to feed upon her memories. He sometimes wondered if a remnant of her resided within his own consciousness, forever trapped and only semi-aware of what had become of her. But he liked to believe that she, like her husband, had ultimately perished as he fed upon her soul.

"But you must accept the Dark Side, Satyijau'ira, and you must accept me. Cast aside your petty teachings, and embrace the future."

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The only thing that is futile will be your attempt to squirm away the moment a chance comes to squeeze what little life you have in you from that wretched body.

Her mind was becoming a playground of sadistic thoughts, each one more menacing and ruthless than the last. While he spoke of how powerless the Republic and Jedi were, she thought of how powerless he would be when she freed herself from this prison cell. The next time her hands wrapped around the hilt of her sabers she would drive them through his skull without a second thought. For all the guards he had, none would save him from his fate when the time came. Her eyes stared back into his, her voice silent. Her mind however were like gears in a clock, constantly moving, waiting for the time she would take vengeance upon him for all he had done, and would do until that time came. She hated him.

"I cannot accept what I cannot feel, master."

That final word was emphasized to pander to his ego - to make him feel that she had finally accepted both her name and position. It was also likely in part to hopefully avoid another round of beatings that she was entirely not up for, considering how the last batch had gone, along with the side order of guard's assaulting her shortly thereafter. To that end, her mind paused with regard to the hate filled thoughts of Vornskr and turned to her wounds, knowing that they would likely scar, including the one down her arm. Her body had previously been near flawless, something she had cherished after the many years of fighting. Her appearance was quite important to her, and was an aspect of her life she constantly sought to improve. The simple fact that Vornskr had blemished her perfect canvas only served to further enrage her.

"And forgive me, but I believe you've already forced me to cast aside everything. There's little that I have left, beside these walls."

The Twi'lek's eyes averted from [member="Darth Vornskr"]'s to the floor, her head dipping low toward the ground, her hands holding one another in front of her.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Not everything, little worm." he said threateningly, he was entirely aware of her reservations and her thoughts, unshielded thanks to the absence of the Force within her body, were like an open book to him. Although such thoughts amused him greatly, as he believed in his own superiority and could not even fathom himself being subject to the tortures he inflicted on others, he knew that he could not let such treasonous ideas linger in her mind. "Your mind is such a heavy burden... Allow me to alleviate your anguish." He raised his right hand, fingers stretched to their limit and his palm pushed outward towards [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]. A dark power radiated from his open palm, slicing through the air causing visible distortion of the pressure within the room before melding directly within the former Jedi's lithe form.

And it would be as if someone had hit her brain with a hammer, so brutal was his intrusion.

There was little he had any regard for in the confines of her mind, memories most of all he shifted through with wild abandon. He saw days pass by like seconds and months like minutes, he watched her grow from a small child listening to her father's engineering stories to her time in the Jedi Order. Thanks to her eidetic memory he was able to perceive practically every moment of her young life with absolute clarity, gleaming every minute detail of herself and her surroundings as he perversely invaded them.

The rebellious acolyte.

The mourning apprentice.

The zealous knight.

The disenfranchised master.

A turbulent life filled with loss, with anger and resentment towards a regime that was no longer capable of upholding the ideals she clung to so desperately. If he was a man he might've sympathized and pitied her, but he was no man... He had given up that luxury so long ago that he had forgotten what it was like, and so he reacted like the beast he was. He began to twist and tear at the very fabric of her memories, distorting them so severely that he began to rewrite her entire existence from within her head. Her earliest memories he simple attempted to destroy entirely, rip apart the love her parents gave to her with surprising fury, replacing them with a cold nothingness. The memories of her first master and the Jedi Order were far easier to displace, for he simply superimposed her tortures at his hands over them and associated her time with the Jedi as literal suffering.

A couple snips there and a couple of changes here and there could prove detrimental to her mental health, but after awhile Vornskr felt satisfied with his grisly work and vacated her mind rather abruptly. Time would only tell if his malicious intrusion would bear fruit for his wicked agenda.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Sera stared at [member="Darth Vornskr"] quizzically at first, unsure of what exactly he meant when he spoke under menacing tone. Her tattooed head turned ever so slightly, left eye squinting just a tad, as if she were about to ask him what sort of torturous activity he had planned to enact upon her next. The female's face reeled back a bit from the Sith at the raise of his hand. What she expected was another display of electric shock, though this time would be far more painful than the last. Alternatively she thought; Perhaps he's going to choke me again...

Neither one occurred, much to her surprise. Instead, a dark, alien energy wrapped its' tendrils around her, before merging into her person. Blinding pain racked her brain, forcing her to her knees. Her left hand securely pressed against the side of her head while her right braced the floor beneath her. It felt like thousands of years of pain were forcing their way into her mind and body. All concentration and focus was lost. Her eyes closed in unbearable agony. Whatever the Sith Lord was doing far surpassed any measure of bodily torture she'd thus far endured. A feral scream followed as she lowered her head to the floor of the cell, fingernails of both hands dragging along the floor, leaving visible marks. Her mind was blank throughout the process, her body knowing nothing but relentless unforgivable pain given life only by the sound of her screams as one after another forced its' way through her vocal chords.

When he finally finished, which could have been minutes or hours later, her arms gave out, dropping her body to the floor under heavy breaths. There she would lay for a few quiet moments, hands holding onto the back of her lekku. When finally the pain resided she slowly brought herself to her knees, then to her feet, her hands bracing herself against the chest of the Sith Lord. A few seconds later her eyes would finally open again, though something had clearly changed in those few minutes now past. The Twi'lek's eyes seemed to burn with a truly passionate anger and hatred unlike Vornskr had previously seen from her.

Perhaps Vornskr had replaced short term memory intentionally, or perhaps it was a simple side-effect of the malicious handy work he'd just performed on the woman. The Jedi glanced about the prison cell with a bit of confusion, then to Vornskr, a look of surprise and caution on her face as she backed a step or two away with fear, anger, and hatred filling her green eyes.

"Where am I!?"​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Home, dearest Satyijau'ira." he cooed with all too honeyed words, his eyes glazing over with false compassion as he gently wrapped his arms around the distraught [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]. "You had been unconscious for days now, the product of your near-death experience against those that wished you harm" He led her to the bed, resting her down onto the edge before he also took a seat next to her. In a single instant his entire demeanor had changed from a brutish tormentor to a consoling colleague, a trait he had learned to master during his time as an Imperial Agent. When need be he could become quite the actor, portraying emotions that he normally never displayed or was even honestly capable of. "They took you, and beat you... Tortured you for days, and they would've killed you if we hadn't shown up when we did."

Lies upon lies.

Images burned sharply in Seraphina's mind of her torment at the hand of shadowy figures whose faces were distorted so severely she might never be able to truly make them out, although there were a few that could be seen more easily. There was a woman of fair skin with short dark blonde hair and eyes of soulless gray that swirled with incandescent hate aimed at Seraphina. The other face was that of a man with salt & pepper hair and possessed a face torn and brutalized as if by a violent explosion, his teeth were exposed through the ruin of his cheek and his eyes churned with the same indescribable hate as the woman's. They were to be the faces of her tormentors, rather than the face of the man sitting right beside her.

Lies upon lies.

"We didn't think you'd make it, honestly, your injuries were so severe and you had lost a lot of blood. We also fear they may have attempted to tamper with your mind, but our analysis came back inconclusive, but we are certain that they could not penetrate your mind with their feeble devices."

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Sera held her fingertips to her temple, light caressing her forehead with eyes closed, listening to [member="Darth Vornskr"] speak as he guided her back to the bed to sit. Her mind was aching, as if she'd sustained a concussion of sorts. When she again opened her vibrant green eyes to look upon the Sith Lord beside her she could feel the burning pain from the still fresh wounds in her back beginning to reopen from the movement of muscles. A small warm trickle ran down the center of her back. "T-tortured?" Her hand wrapped around to feel the crimson liquid streaking a small pathway to the small of her back. As she returned her fingers to look at the blood her eyes narrowed, a small fury began to spark in her eyes like the beginnings of a raging wildfire.

"Why would they do this to me!" She shouted loudly, her voice echoing off of the walls in the small cell, more so as a statement than a question for him to answer. Visions of the faces of Kythen Tur, and [member="Kana Truden"], both former masters and close friends of hers, their images now twisted, corrupted in her mind from the work of the Sith Lord. Her fists clenched tightly. "I hate them." In mere moments her memories of childhood changed from parents wanting the best for her, to parents selling their daughter to slavers. Her former friends, masters, tutors became the work of nightmares and fiendish foes. "I want them to suffer." She turned to Vornskr, embracing him tightly despite the protest of her agonized muscles and injuries. "Thank you for saving me!" Her voice held nothing but passionate gratitude to her true captor. On her face beamed a bright, delightful smile. As she craned her neck to hug the man she felt the sharp pinch of the collar injecting another dosage of Force nulling liquid into her blood stream, eliciting a small yelp from the Twi'lek. Her hands lifted to try and remove the device, but was unable to locate a way of doing so. That was when she too noticed the bracers on her wrists and ankles.

"What are these for?" She inquired, "And this device; It hurts my neck."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"A temporary fixture, my dear." he said so suavely, so compassionately with a smile that could melt even the most frigid of hearts. His own, however; was far more frozen than anything ever imagined, but with great effort he was able to maintain an almost convincing smile of reassurance. "It was imperative that we affix these devices to you the moment after we secured you from that dastardly prison. You were lashing out with the Force at your friends, and this device on your neck temporarily nullifies your ability to call upon it. And until we can safely ascertain that those monsters have not done anything to permanently tamper with your mind and spirit, it may have to remain on for a little while longer." All of his words seemed so carefully constructed, as if he had rehearsed this entire conversation countless times over despite the fact that it was happening right now.

"Anyways, come with me and I'll find you a medic to treat your wounds."

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

"I see" She said, her hands releasing from the embrace of [member="Darth Vornskr"]. "I'm very sorry if I hurt anyone." Sera looked up to him with a concerned expression. Her hand adjusted to press her fingertips against her forehead, trying furiously to remember what had happened with no success. "I...I don't remember what happened." She sighed, clearly distraught over the inability to remember her actions leading up to this point. "I'm thankful for your rescue. But...If this is for everyone's safety then..." She looked up at the Sith Lord with a gracious smile. "Then that is for the best." The Twi'lek looked around, everything looked so strange to her. She'd never been here, seen this room. Her mind ached with pain any time she attempted to recall anything from memory.

By his request she slowly stood, pushing herself from the bed with the aide of her arm to stand up straight. "I'm sorry...I'm a little dizzy still." Her hand braced against the arm of Vornskr to maintain her bearings. "Thank you -" Sera realized in that moment she couldn't remember his name, nor her own. It was as if she had sustained some type of memory loss. "Forgive me, but..." She spoke sheepishly, almost embarrassed to ask. "I don't recall your name, or mine for that matter. It must be a side effect of their torture." Everything felt so strange to her lately...

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Indeed, they tried to tamper with your mind and while they were unable to wipe you completely they did manage to erase some of your memories to try and destroy who you are. We may never know if they'll ever return or if they're gone forever, but I will try to help you fill in those blanks." He allowed her to brace herself against him, wrapping his left arm around to help steady herself as they made their way out of the chamber and down the hall. The dungeoneers remained assembled in neat filed ranks, their faces hidden by helmets resembling that of the common Imperial soldier yet their armor was marked with inscriptions in an ancient dialect that tied them to their station within the Black Pyramid. Yet at a subtle wave of Vornskr's hand they began to disperse and disappear into the greater catacombs of the pyramid's winding innards, save for two marked by distinct crimson pauldron covering their right shoulder which denoted them as captains within the dungeoneers.

At any inquiry about the heavily armed guards, Vornskr would merely laugh and reply: "Ever since the war started we've had to increase security at every one of our most cherished facilities, and this place is no different. You will see many more of them as you re-familiarize yourself with your home, but do not fear them. They will not harm you." That was possibly a lie, but nothing in his tone or facial expression betrayed that. Yet there was a glimmer in his eyes as he looked back to [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"] when she asked him about his name, and he was forced to scrunch his eyebrows in thought for a moment. "Your name is Satyijau'ira, and I have gone by many names over my life, but you may call me Dæva." It was an ancient term dating back to some primordial culture whose name the Sith Lord did not care about nor wanted to care about, yet he was knowledgeable about many aspects of that ancient culture.

They rounded a corner and entered what could be considered the hospital wing of the massive pyramid. Immobile patients were carted about to various chambers, all of which were visibly sealed so that one could not see the malign things that went about inside. Although many things came to a pause as the visage of the Sith Lord and his new pet strolled through the entry way, causing some patients to shudder visibly and strain against their bonds just by the mere sight of him, yet they were quickly ushered away as he passed through towards a small chamber situated at the rear of the wing. Inside was a single operating table alongside various trays of surgical tools and equipment, everything standard of a medical room anywhere else in the galaxy save for the faint smell of dried blood that could never be truly washed away. At the table's side was a woman dressed in surgical garb polishing a bone saw while she hummed to herself a tune from her childhood, although at the gnawing presence of the Sith Lord she turned somewhat surprised and saluted him.

"Milord, I didn't expe-"

He held up his hand, and the words became stuck in her throat.

"No need for formalities, Doctor. I have a patient here that requires medical attention ASAP, she's suffered severe lacerations to her back, and has lost a considerable amount of blood."

The Doctor scrunched up her face as she turned from obedient servant to full-blown medic mode, quickly grabbing some of her tools and ushering the Twi'lek over to the table, which converted into something resembling a chair at the mere touch of a button. However; the back was allowed to remain fully horizontal so that she could have complete access to her back, which was like the Sith Lord said was covered in horrid lacerations that had become crusted with dried blood. The Sith Lord stood passively to the side as he watched the doctor work on Satyijau'ira, allowing her to fully exercise her profession as she cleaned the wounds and began to stitch them up before finally binding them.