Outer Demons

[Keira Priest]

It was anyone's guess as to what finally roused Keira to consciousness within the dungeons on Bastion. Perhaps it was the chill of the durasteel floor or the feeling of the cuffs about her wrists. It could have been the headache that pounded behind her eyes, or the allover soreness that radiated to her very bones, or a combination of the aforementioned factors. Whichever it was, it elicited a quiet groan of pain from where she lay on the floor of the cell. With a painstaking slowness she forced herself into something resembling a sitting position, leaning back against the wall for any needed support. It was difficult for her to do much of anything else than sit there, slowly working through the dull ache that seemed to permeate every nerve ending until she was able to think at least semi-clearly. Even then her awareness only extended to that which was immediately beyond herself, which included nothing more than the cell she currently sat in, and nothing more. The very air was deathly still, silent save for nothing more than the quiet hum and workings of whichever facility she was currently being contained within.

That same silence unnerved her. Typically any location even resembling a prison of sorts was a buzzing hive of activity, regardless of whether the captors or the captives were responsible. The quiet about her spoke of a solitary wing, or something more sinister lurking beneath the surface. Had she been more alert and aware at that moment she would have begun a makeshift exploration of her surroundings, but as it were all she was able to do was determine the extent of her own injuries, and nothing more. Out of everything her back and left side seemed to be the most tender, something she didn't want to consider for too long. Hopefully the cause wasn't anything too detrimental. The headache was something she would have to work through as time passed, as there was no way to remedy such immediately. In all she had experienced much worse in her life, having broken multiple ribs and been shot on a few occasions, once with a crossbow. These injuries were nothing more than minor inconveniences, but when added up had the potential to be just as incapacitating as something more severe. But she would have to make do.

Only then did it occur to her to attempt to reach out with the Force, not quite making it far enough to touch on any presences that may have been in the area, a flash of pain coursing through her head before she was able. Okay, not such a great idea. A grimace flashed briefly across her face, and she exhaled shakily. Her alternatives were becoming narrower and narrower as time passed, and if she had been in a better current state of mind she may have begun worrying perhaps overmuch. At the same time she likely would have recognized the signs about her that pointed to exactly who her captors were. But for the moment she remained oblivious, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes, cuffed hands resting in her lap. Sometimes it felt as if her entire existence was comprised of scenarios such as this, her being completely at the mercy of another individual. It was something she had adjusted to, for better or worse, having developed a bone weariness of having to deal with these sorts of situations. But she wouldn't forfeit so easily. That wasn't how she operated. It never was.

Managing to climb to her feet she blacked out briefly, her vision slowly swimming back into focus, a wave of dizziness washing over her, stubborn and slow in leaving. If there was a way for her to feel worse, she didn't want to think about it. Walking to the entrance of the cell, though the movement was reminiscent of something more akin to a well-coordinated stumble. Just as she had suspected previous, there seemed to be no other signs of life within the wing, nothing that pointed to another sentient or group of sentient beings held nearby. That eerie quiet persisted, punctuated only by her unsteady breathing as she remained, surprisingly, uncharacteristically silent. At the very least this wasn't another isolation chamber, such as the one she had been subjected to those years ago. For that small and perhaps insignificant detail she was thankful, as not much else was something she could necessarily turn into a positive. All she could do otherwise was hope that she would be able to exploit a weakness eventually and find a way out and off whatever planet she had managed to find herself on this time. Waiting around for a rescue was no longer her style.

The last haze-filled memory she could recall was her being on a planet she couldn't recall the name of in the Outer Rim, something that wasn't entirely unusual for her, or any of the other Ravens, for that matter. It was logical for her to assume that the place hadn't been under the control of the same criminal syndicate she called home, or the events leading to her capture likely wouldn't have transpired. Or so she liked to think. The next assumption would have been that she had been detained by a rival gang, but nothing was ever quite so simple in her life. Where and how she was restrained spoke of a previous knowledge of sorts when it came to her abilities. That in itself meant those responsible had crossed her path before, and in a similar situation no less. This left one group that she held in well-deserved contempt. The Primeval. Her. That was just what she needed. As far as she had been aware the faction affiliated themselves with the Sith, which only boded more bad news should they hear of her capture. If this was the doing of The Primeval, that only left one question: where was [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]? The woman had seemed intrigued enough with her the first time, and it only made sense that she had orchestrated this as well.

With similar thoughts occupying her she once more sat down against the wall, darkness once more claiming her. It was only in this unconscious state she would become anything even resembling peaceful.

 

[Boethiah]

The Imperial Dungeons on Bastion remained shrouded in mystery to the prisoners unlucky enough to be held there. The location itself was originally constructed by the Fel Dynasty some eight centuries ago when the Imperial Remnant made the world its capital. Now that The Primeval ruled Bastion, the dungeons that once held Jedi and Sith were under their control. In all honesty there weren't that many prisoners being held there but the large underground facility had many rooms; including a Rancor housing chamber.

The damp air was cold in some places and warm in others. The flow of gases, exhaust, and other utilities had created an almost hazardous landscape that was dangerous if you didn't know the layout very well. Even force-users had a tendency to find themselves at the mercy of the dungeon keepers for they were the only ones who had the authority to make life easier down here. If a prisoner was able to escape their cells the entire prison itself would still hold them as the only way in and out was through the ramparts surrounding the palace in which the dungeons were just underneath. It would take a lot of firepower to break into--let alone out of--the prison complex.

The latest person to be held here was the criminal Jedi, [member="Keira Ticon"] , a member of the Red Ravens and a woman who had confronted Anja not once--nor twice--but three times. First when she was captured some six years ago, second when she escaped only months after, and the third time was a duel on Telos during the Netherworld crisis. Now it seemed that once again she was at the mercy of the Host Lord. The only reason why Keira was given somewhat better accommodations was purely because of the fact she and Anja shared a mysterious connection in the force. What it meant and why they had it remained a mystery that the two of them likely wanted to discover. It's not every day that your enemy becomes connected to you in a way that you do not even share with a blood relative...

Anja was in the Palace when she received news of the successful capture. Her rival of sorts was now being detained in the Imperial Dungeons and without hesitation the witch found herself outside of the palace and en route to the entrance of the dungeons themselves. When she arrived, a cohort of soldiers guarded the large blast doors. Two turrets for anti-air and anti-vehicle purposes protruded at either side of the bunker-like entrance. The doors slowly slid open and revealed an elevator which descended into the complex below at an angle. Stepping onto the flat surface, Anja traveled down alone. The ride was slow and noisy, the temperature of the air around her changed drastically. First it was quite humid and temperate, then it became dry and cold, and now it was warm and moist. Finally the elevator stopped and the internal entrance into the facility itself was guarded by a few turrets, guards, and battle droids.

With only the company of one of the dungeon keepers, Anja was escorted towards the holding area. She passed the cells of petty criminals and Mandalorians, dangerous warlords and criminal lackeys. People she cared little for and had left to rot without the sight of blue sky or a golden sun. Eventually their route became void of all life. Passing through a maintenance corridor they entered into the hall where only the most dangerous or important prisoners were kept and it wasn't too far from the housing area where Perla's Rancor was living. Anja approached the cell in which Keira was staying, staring through the durasteel bars she examined the prisoner. "It's been a while." She said softly.

 

[Keira Priest]

It took a moment for Keira to completely register that the voice which had spoken came from outside the cell. Directly on the other side of the bars that separated her from freedom, in fact, durasteel that would have been reduced to ribbons had her captors been kind enough to grant her any sort of weapon. But they were efficient, as they always had been, relieving her of anything that could be harnessed in a lethal manner and completing another search just to be certain. Thoroughness was always a good quality to have, so long as it wasn't being used against her. Those idle thoughts occupied her mind for a moment until she realized just what had sparked them, and slowly her amber gaze rose to study the woman before her, an appearance almost as familiar as her own. "Has it? Forgive me if I've not been keeping track." There was hardly a trace of sarcasm in her voice, something entirely uncommon, though any actual respect was out of the question.

Even so much as shifting position was a momentous task in itself thanks to the crack of pain that would intrude upon her vision, but stubbornly she kept at it until her legs and then feet seemed to materialize out of nothing beneath her, granting solid ground upon which to stand. Still she couldn't do anything to prevent from appearing unsteady, still not quite herself despite having regained some fine motor control. It was questionable as to whether she'd be able to manage anything other than standing in place should she be required, but at the moment that was her only form of measured defiance. She could be chained, sore and barely conscious, but so long as she still drew breath she would fight until the end. Perhaps a noble act to some, but in her eyes that was the only way for things to work. Anything else was inexcusable.

Laying eyes on the other woman was enough to dredge up a flood of memories, most of them less than pleasant, from her first audience years ago. That had been when she was still new to the Ravens and when The Primeval were still a new face in the galaxy, one no sentient had heard of. A better time, almost, when she wasn't quite so unbalanced. Now, with this being the third or fourth time they had graced each other's presences, that same curiosity of the unknown was lost, replaced only with a dark, cold, unrelenting feeling of enmity in the pit of her stomach. It manifested itself, as it always did, in her eyes, dark, roiling thunderclouds behind that gleam of untelling amber, the dark side corruption that had manifested the fault of the one before her in the first place.

It was that same corruption that had eaten away at her over the years, manifesting itself in a mindset that could turn on a dime, making her tenfold more unpredictable than she had been previously. Her overall sanity had been the first to go, though outwardly she had maintained much of the same attitude despite the turmoil within. If it was so difficult for those close to her to recognize, than someone unacquainted wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Of course, that was only the case when said individual hadn't formed a close bond via an all-encompassing energy field that permeated all beings, living or dead. Then the game was changed just a bit, and every feeling and thought was transmitted across the ether, regardless of whether such things were meant to be felt by the other.

All these thoughts were brought to the surface simply because [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] was standing in front of her, looking in on her impassively as if she were just a stranger passed on the street, though a spark of recognition lay deep within her eyes. It was a strange connection that brought them together, something as unexplainable as the Force itself. It wasn't by either of their volition that such a thing had formed, it was merely something brought on by constant struggle and combat, two things that were bound to influence both parties eventually, whether they wished such a thing or not. The pull was something they both felt and acknowledged, most times passively. That same unspoken tug nudged at her now. "What can I help you with this time, then? I'm assuming you brought me here for a reason."

 

[Boethiah]

Times were different when they first met, that's for sure. Since then their 'rivalry' had been brief and in its own interesting way, developed into something else entirely. What word could be used to describe their current relationship? It didn't matter, not now at least. Keira was Anja's prisoner, she was weakened, tired, but still defiant. Those are just the facts.

Anja walked closer to the cell, locking her fingers as she kept her hands tucked neatly behind her back. The witch stood tall but not out of pride or authority, perhaps out of respect? Perhaps not.

"You fought me again and again. I admit that perhaps our very first time together was... Unpleasant, but that was a long time ago." Was she really going through that routine? Anja couldn't believe it herself -- she was attempting to be charismatic in all that she was. And all that she was did not include diplomat. She was a warrior, a witch, an intellectual, and a zealot... But a diplomat? No. The politics of the galaxy bored her and not just because she had no need for them. She found it childish, the way the galaxy tried to control things through elections, policy making, and representation. People existed and that was it; what they made of their existence was truly what mattered.

Without delay she continued what she was saying, "I brought you here not to make you my prisoner, but to make you my ally. You will stand by my side not against me." What she was really asking was for her to give up what life she had been taken from. Of course even if she said right there and then that she'd join it wouldn't be enough and if she tried to lie her way through anything Anja would know. Umbarans could see deception with their eyes and weren't easily fooled. Then again Keira was not someone who'd give up her pride so easily, that much was clear.

Before she allowed Keira to respond, Anja drew her hand along the bars. The Dark Jedi in front of her could probably sense the force escaping her finger tips and inscribing itself along the metalwork in some way. What Anja was doing was casting a spell of sorts, a magick -- ancient force technique. It's a trick that subtly played with the minds of those who encountered it. Seeing things in the corner of their eyes, witnessing colours, shapes, and even sounds that weren't there. And if you weren't careful it could even dive into your memory and pull out dark moments. If you couldn't fight it then it'd slowly consume you and break you until the point you were no longer yourself.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Despite her weakened state a quiet laugh borne out of nothing more than sheer dissent escaped her lips at those words spoken. At this point it really was laughable that the other woman thought it an even remotely reasonable thing to suggest that the two ally themselves after all that had transpired between them. It would take far more than simply confining her to a cell and speaking a few pretty words to convince her that joining The Primeval would be an ultimately beneficial thing. After the life Keira had forged among the Ravens on the fringes of Wild Space, she had no desire to give up such a thing for what would likely be a life of servitude. It had never been within her worldview to subject to such a thing so easily. Besides, she was a Corellian. It wasn't in her nature to begin with, even without her natural obstinacy.

To say that their first time together had been unpleasant was a severe understatement, and one that only served to fuel her own form of wry amusement at the entirety of the scenario in which she currently found herself. If there ever was irony in its purest and most refined form, then this was it, or something dangerously close. The tone of voice the other used spoke of some measure of respect, or perhaps a strange sense of authority. It didn't seem as if she was attempting to raise herself above the one that was, for all intents and purposes, her prisoner, something which struck the rogue darksider as strange by itself. The first time it seemed as if Anja had regarded herself as nothing short of royalty, but now her actions seemed far more subdued, as if they were something akin to equals, if one didn't consider their current positions in relation to the other.

With an almost resigned sigh she slid to sit down against the wall, allowing a wave of dizziness to pass of its own accord before she even attempted any sort of response. The Force prickled across the back of her neck, raising her awareness and her gaze to the woman once more, her eyes carefully following her position as she walked at a measured pace in front of the bars. There was something at work there, mingling with the metal, but she wasn't of a mind currently to determine just what it was. In time she was certain it would reveal itself, for a purpose no doubt far from beneficial. It's wasn't as if she was being drug once more to nothing more than another torture chamber, so she didn't have any cause to object outright. If anything, the cell was preferable.

"You want me to pledge myself to your cause just like that? Cute." Cracking a half-smile she shook her head, cuffed hands resting on her knees. Defiance was in every movement, every careful look and spoken word. "I still don't give a kark about your gods, or what they might see in me. It's going to take a lot more than a few speeches and suggestions to change my mind." Attempting once more to reach out with the Force she feebly pushed against what energy had been released against her, it not doing much to prevent such a thing from taking hold, though she barely noticed. Thus far it only manifested itself in a quiet, sibilant whisper that was barely noticeable beyond the fringes of her subconscious. A minute shake of her head was her only visible reaction to it taking effect, though the murmurs continued unabated.

Without hesitation she met the pale, nearly colorless eyes of her captor, eyes nearly as familiar as her own. "I don't know what you expected me to do. I'm not going to bend the knee and serve you without another word. I don't know why you even bother, anymore. We both know I'm not stupid enough to give in right away." And that was how she saw it, really. Anyone that viewed such a cause as a worthy thing didn't have enough brain cells to consider the other, far better options that presented themselves at every turn. "For not wanting to make me your prisoner, you have a funny way of making it seem the opposite. The cuffs don't really help with that suggestion, and neither does the cell. Maybe if I wasn't here, I'd believe you. What, are you scared I'm going to hurt you?"

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja knew very well that the girl sitting before her was exhausted in more ways than one. Even if she was able to fight off the effects of her trickery, it wouldn't be of much use in stopping Anja from trying something else. Something more potent, possibly deadly? Well she didn't want to kill Keira but if near-death is what it took then near-death is what she'd deliver. For now though the witch merely looked down at the girl without a word, her quiet demeanor was not unusual nor unexpected if their past encounters proved anything but the facts would still maintain that something was completely different.

Unlike the first time around her prisoner wasn't brought to a throne, there was no torture, and for all intents and purposes Anja and Keira were completely alone. Looking back at their strange connection it manifested itself quite poetically... Anja was the order to her disorder, the calm to her storm, the patience to her fury, and the wisdom to her humor. The reverse was just a flip of the coin, they balanced each other quite reasonably even if the thought was a simplified version of the truth or just wishful thinking.

Unfortunately that thought would have to wait. "If you didn't fight I'd be disappointed. Even though you could barely stand you still had to prove the point... Admirable, if not foolish." Finally soft words escaped her lips. Delicate things, if it didn't seem crazy one could probably consider them poison. Well... They probably are poison.

"Stay in the cell and the cuffs for now, I might let you out." Did she even have to ask?

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Already the entirety of it was beginning to bore her. Being one that all but required some sort of variation to her daily routine in order to keep herself on her toes, being subjected to any sort of restraints, whether physical or simply in her mind, was undesirable. It constrained her from doing what she wished, allowing her no freedom of action or thought, rendering her nothing short of useless, even in her own eyes. It was a scenario Keira quickly became frustrated with, though she wouldn't dare allow herself to be manipulated in exchange for any freedom. A life standing on her own two feet spent in a cell was far better than one spent on her knees on the other side of the bars. It was impossible for her to fathom an existence different than her own spent in constant rebellion of what was expected of her.

Though she wouldn't admit it aloud, even when by herself, it was true that the two provided a strange sort of equilibrium to each other. Where Anja was precise she was wanton, where the other was quietly patient she was straightforward. In every essence they were complete opposites, but that was what brought a strange sort of beautiful irony to it all. However, it was an irony that she couldn't appreciate, at least not in her shackled state. In calling her foolish the other woman wasn't entirely wrong. Her stubborn attitude often seemed that way to some, and resistance against unyielding odds was something she would have regarded as nothing short of idiotic, had she been on the outside looking in. But her own actions, in contrast, were an unquestionable exception.

"I still can barely stand. What's your point?" Her voice was quiet, raspy, even, her throat sore and dry as sandpaper. That was the least of her worries, and she pushed any physical discomfort to the back of her mind. It was second to the mental battle, something that was currently being waged behind the scenes, something difficult for those outsiders observing to pinpoint exactly. Once again that dark magic tightened its hold, encroaching on her consciousness with fading black edges to her vision ringed with crimson, those whispers increasing in volume, seeming to cling to her physical form like cobwebs, always present and unrelenting, refusing to be expelled no matter what exhausted efforts she put forth.

Nothing else had been expected, that soft-spoken resistance to her taunt, a refusal to be cowed by what was nothing more than wishful thinking, at this point. That 'might' may as well have been a never, so low were the chances of her freedom actually taking place. At least, not in such a way that she wished it to. "Are we just going to talk? You know how easily bored I get. The last time I spent a few weeks in an isolation chamber, so leaving me in silence won't do much of anything. I'm not one to just talk either, and I'm the farthest from a diplomat you can get. You won't get anywhere trying to reason with me, I think you're smart enough to know that. Like I said, you're going to have to try better than that. You don't scare me." That was the truth, at least at the moment. Later, however, remained to be seen.

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Fear was not the tool of her arsenal. Fear was wild, unpredictable, and in some ways subpar; if you wanted to break someone it would require greater effort. Anja knew well enough that Keira would not succumb so easily to the basics. She had already suffered much and likely believed that there wasn't much one could do to her that she hadn't already been through. Even for people like The Primeval who were less caring and more likely to forego moral codes, she still wouldn't have much fear towards them.

That didn't mean there wasn't any effective method, however, and Anja didn't need intentions to know exactly how to break her. Keira's self-proclaimed inability to get diplomatic was a poor revelation on her part, for words were not what either of them had in mind. Instead the Host Lord would take away every purpose to even exist until she begged for an escape, only then would she in turn offer her a new purpose; something to cling onto. It was conditioning to say the least, to take away all that someone had until they associated what you give back with you. It's almost like how a pet becomes attached to their owner out of association with the good things the owner provides. Food, attention, shelter, protection; Anja would provide what she needed and in return gain the loyalty of who she provided for.

Even with a plan it would take effort to succeed and such effort required patience, a lot of it. Fortunately she had a lot of patience, something that probably couldn't be said for Keira. It would be in these differences that Anja take the advantage. By playing the situation to her own strengths she'd be able to succeed despite the odds, or so she hoped.

Anja's eyes did not linger on Keira for too long, she turned her head to the side and looked towards the empty hallway that did not seem to end. The dungeons under the palace on Bastion were rather large and the musk of death stuck to the air like a disease. Returning her attention to the prisoner, Anja let out a cold sigh. "You have a fight in you, I'll give you that. Just don't bet on your victory so soon, even if you won't accept what I say as truth... Do you really have many other choices? What advantages do you have here. Even if you could fight me where would you go, would you fight your way off the entire planet? Could you?" Using logic was probably not the best strategy when engaging in a conversation with Keira. That didn't mean the crazy didn't use logic themselves but when their lives were on the line, their well being, it probably wasn't going to make them think any more clearly. With nothing left to say on the matter she simply watched to see how the girl would react to her words.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

A shrug was her only response. There wasn't really much of a point in weighing her odds, this time around. The chances of a rescue the second time were slim to none, and Keira was smart enough to know when every circumstance was designed against any hope of things working out in her favor. However much she didn't want to admit it, Anja was correct in saying that she wasn't capable of much in her current predicament. With her barely able to stand, it was unlikely that she would muster the strength and coordination necessary to combat even one adversary, let alone the thousands she would be taking on if she managed to venture outside of her cell, not to mention the prison itself. It took strength she wasn't currently possessed of. For once in her life, she was entirely helpless to better her situation.

Her eyes remained vaguely focused on the other as silence hung in the air between them, she no doubt waiting for some defiant response from her longtime rival and enemy both. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be providing the repartee that was likely expected. Perhaps, for once, she would be agreeable in some sense of the word. "I won't. I can't, in case you haven't noticed." It wasn't just due to her wrists being bound, either. At this point in her life she had fought for every little thing, from being able to do something as simple as draw breath, to her immediate survival in scenarios nearly exactly like this. And that fighting eventually took its toll, leaving her exhausted and unable to even imagine herself fighting through another series of odds that were overwhelmingly stacked against her.

"I'm tired of fighting. It's all I've been doing my entire life. I want to be able to just live, for once, without having to spend a day on the battlefield before I know if I'll even make it home that night. You know just as well what I'm talking about." It wasn't like her to admit weakness so easily, but what she wouldn't say would otherwise be sensed or pieced together as time passed. It gave her some sense of control, being able to divulge her own faults on her own time. After all, it was the only control she would be able to exercise, and even then it was slipping past her faster than she knew. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to give in to you so easily." Exhausted of fighting she may have been, but she wasn't quite so tired as to surrender herself to the first individual offering some form of salvation.

"You just going to stand there?" The last time another had been brought in to assure her immediate obedience, but this time it seemed the two of them were to remain alone, only having the other's company to keep. It was strange for her to consider the other woman anything but another warrior, one who fought to obtain her own goals, still remaining behind the scenes in some manner, not involving herself with the larger picture when it came to swaying others to join The Primeval. To consider her an equal on some front was an entirely foreign concept, and one she would never adjust to. They had always been rivals, each considering themselves above the other. To think the opposite was alien. "You haven't even tried to kill me yet."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

It didn't require much effort for Anja to respond to her last remark, after having genuinely listened to every word she spoke. It wasn't meant to be sentimental, though, there was still a certain tension between them for all intents and purposes but how that affected their 'relationship' was another matter for another day. The pale bitterness in Anja's eyes were not a warm sight and the way they gazed down at Keira would be deemed troubling to any typical prisoner. "Why would I take you prisoner if my goal was to kill you?" It was a question that was likely redundant, even if Keira hadn't thought it yet the concept likely lingered in the back of her mind somewhere.

Whether or not an answer existed to her liking was unimportant to Anja, she wouldn't be surprised to find a cleverly lined response mustered up from nothing but the air in her lungs. That was partially what intrigued her, that someone even in the most seemingly helpless situations could pull a weapon from thin air; just a weapon that wasn't very effective against her. Still; Anja stood there which probably answered her earlier question, she stood tall and strong. Air escaped the pipes along the walls which maintained circulation underground, their hisses and howls managed to stir up the lower lifeforms that scurried about in the form of insects and other vermin. To some of the prisoners this was a blessing, their lack of food meant that survival relied on sheer chance and the mercy of the Gods.

This reminded the Host Lord to ask a very simple question. "Are you hungry?" It came up in the awkward of the silence, suddenly she acted like she cared or perhaps to an outsider it was just her way of rubbing in the fact that she had complete control in the situation. The truth? Even she didn't truly know herself.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"Why take me prisoner if you're just going to stand there and talk? It goes both ways." Perhaps not the exact response that had been expected, but it was something. Besides, there were better things to be doing, none of them involving simple conversation. In a perfect galaxy none of this would have transpired in the first place, but it was too late to turn back. At the very least it would have been tolerable had she been able to access the Force in the first place. But it seemed as if that wasn't to come to pass, at least not yet. Keira could feel it there, lingering on the barest edge of her perception, but whenever she attempted to actively manipulate the energy it seemed to dissolve where it sat, regardless of what different strategies she attempted to employ. It seemed that was to remain an unalterable scenario, much to her annoyance.

The question that was posed next caught her briefly off guard, and she studied the woman before her with a raised eyebrow. Since when did the two of them play even remotely nice? With every reason to distrust the other she didn't see a reason to accept the invitation, but she couldn't sense any deception through the Force, not that it meant much. Letting a moment pass in which she shrugged, Keira sighed quietly and adjusted her position against the wall, nothing that could be done helping to ease the general discomfort that came with being confined to a cell. Already she was beginning to fidget, becoming frustrated with the restraints that were forced upon her. "It's kind of hard to figure that when I can barely stand. I guess I am, yeah. I don't see why you should care about what I'm feeling. You have a funny way of showing it if you've changed your mind."

Not bothering to conceal her movements she tugged experimentally once again at the cuffs that bound her wrists. Unsurprisingly they refused to show any signs of budging, and she was still unable to draw upon the ethereal to aid in her attempts. There would be no easy way of escape this time, no rescue in weeks to assure her safety against otherwise immutable circumstances. This time it was up to her to find a way out of things, and any window of opportunity was fast in leaving. The chances of anyone faltering this time were null. Experience had been allotted the first time, and she knew this wasn't the type of individual to make the same mistakes twice. "You've always been a bad entertainer. Try adding some variety to things. The cell and cuffs act gets old after the first few times. Try something new." The spoken word was always her first defense, as it gave her something else to focus on.

"Well, if you're just going to stand there, you could at least get me a cigarette. I need something to do while I'm waiting around." It wasn't the best of habits, or really any sort of habit at all, but it was something with which to ease the tension that wasn't entirely difficult to come by. And yes, part of it was to see just how Anja would react. It wouldn't be her if that wasn't the intent.

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja watched as the girl tried to toy her way out of the cuffs, there wasn't even a point in saying "That's not going to work you know." She probably figured it out already, and if she didn't it wasn't like that changed the circumstances. She was mistaken about one thing, however. "What makes you think this is an act of kindness?" She truly wanted to know, nothing Anja was doing was because it was specifically Keira, of course if it wasn't her the scenario would've been different, but her attitude in this one is not unique to it.

The Umbaran witch reached out for the switch on the wall, it opened the cell where the bars were to think for an arm to slide through. Pressing it and the locks disengaged in a quick hiss as the pressure released, the clear sound of metal grinding against itself was heard as the metal rods pulled back and the door slide to the side. Anja walked to the other side of the cell, standing out of the way of the passage which would allow the dark Jedi to pass through without the threat of interference. No guards were rushing to drag her away, there were no guns or blades pointed towards her back, in a sense it meant whether she decided to move was all in her control. How long that illusion of control would be maintained, if at all, could not be said.

"Shall we get going, then?"

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

The blatant choice presented was regarded with thinly veiled skepticism, something that should have done little to surprise the woman who stood to the side, allowing her to pass through seemingly without interference from any being. The offer was hollow, one Keira didn't trust regardless of what reassurances there should have been to calm her. No others were about, no guards had been called and no weapons were drawn. That didn't mean all three circumstances couldn't change at the press of a button, nor was there any evidence that they wouldn't. So the silent uncertainty lingered. "I never said it was an act of kindness. All I'm implying is that you've been trying to get me here for this long, and now that I'm finally at your mercy all you've done is stand there and talk. Doesn't seem to me that you're the type to play nice with anyone."

The unnatural quiet was eventually broken by the scuff of booted feet on metal as she shakily climbed to her feet, nearly collapsing in her efforts. It was enough to just stand there. Walking the halls of the prison would prove a feat by itself. It wasn't like her to openly admit weakness, and that facet hadn't changed a bit since her capture. Nothing would change that defiant demeanor, regardless of whether she was barely able to maintain a standing position or not. It would be up to Anja to determine things for herself, though there was no doubt that the woman hadn't already gauged the relative weakness of her captive simply by looking upon her. The rest of it was just semantics, revealing a sliver of what could be called freedom while knowing that she would barely be able to manage achieving even that much.

Stepping from the cell she took her time in studying the new environment, the same silence noted upon her awakening still present. They were deep within the bowels of whatever prison she had managed to become detained within, that much was obvious. Where the prison was remained to be seen, a detail she likely wouldn't be privy to. Not that it would help her cause any. It would have been nice to know what planet she was on, at least. Inevitably, her gaze settled on the Umbaran once more. "I don't know if I can agree to that, seeing how I don't know where we're headed. I know you're new to this conversation thing, but it helps to do more than just say one or two sentences. Otherwise it all feels terribly one-sided." There it was, a verbal defense springing up from nothing yet again. That was one habit that would never leave her.

With a shift of her neck to either side the vertebrae cracked, the sound seeming to echo down the halls. "Might as well head off. I could use a walk to loosen up. You going to give me my lightsaber back this time, too, or am I going to have to figure my own way out of this one? It'd be nice if you could give me a few hints once in awhile." Or at least talk or show some sign of reacting. No wonder the woman didn't seem to have many friends. It wasn't much of a surprise that she likely had to kidnap and convert most of what made up The Primeval.

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja didn't answer so soon, instead she walked down the hallway with or without Keira and turned the corner. From there the journey was rather bland, a large, long corridor spanned the length of the Imperial Dungeons until it came to a guarded cross-section that extended upwards vertically. To their south-west a lift was stationed and ready to carry the two up, Anja stepped in first and waited for her companion to step on before pressing a button that shot upwards throughout the complex. They passed several floors before stopping at the very top.

More guards were stationed here, clearly to make sure no escape attempts were made. Stepping out of the lift, Anja marched through what was now a far more elegant structure filled with stunning architecture and Imperial emblems, including the seal of the Fel Dynasty. They were in the Imperial Palace now, once home to the Fel Emperors and now where Anja made herself comfortable in their stead. The Host Lord continued walking through the maze-like complex before arriving at a doorway into another room.

"This way," she broke the long silence--at least on her part--and entered the room. A long table laid in the center, without much else. She had planned to bring Keira here the entire time; food was placed on either side of the table for the both of them with drinks and in one particular seat a lightsaber sat, the one belonging to the special guest.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Silently Keira studied her surroundings, unfazed by what she saw as a display of wealth and power in the various artifacts and complexly beautiful architecture that comprised the upper floor of what was only accurately described as a palace, though she hardly regarded any of its inhabitants as anything so much as resembling royalty. Where others would have been taken aback by the regal appearance of it all she busied herself in attempting to pick out any landmarks that would guide her when it came to leaving. It was the same strategy she had employed back on that ship in Wild Space years ago. Now the game was different. Even if she knew the chances of her escape or rescue were slim to none, she wouldn't completely face the unknown of her fate just yet. Not when there was still a chance.

That idle train of thought was brought to a screeching halt upon entering the room, and once more she paused, studying her surroundings for a moment before relenting and stepping past the doorway. Instantly her gaze found the lightsaber, that single weapon the only token of familiarity among people she didn't trust in a place she didn't care for. But she was also uncertain, inwardly knowing that such a thing wouldn't have been presented without some sort of precaution in place. Despite the particularities of their relationship, Anja knew her well enough to be perfectly aware of the deadly efficiency she was capable of exhibiting with that lone orange plasma blade. And now that she was a Master, that skill had only continued to hone itself. Something Anja would discover in time, if she had any say in it.

Slowly she walked around the table to the chair, reaching down to palm the blade, igniting it almost immediately afterwards. Experimentally she spun it once, attempting to cut through the center of her cuffs. Instead of slicing cleanly through it bounced off, as if the metal itself was repulsed at the mere touch of the weapon. Quickly she analyzed that her restraints were resistant even to this sort of blade, which made things difficult, to say the least. So she settled for setting the disengaged hilt on the table, sitting down and taking a moment to expel the rush of dizziness that assaulted her senses. Exhaling, her breath hissed through her teeth, eyes darting about the room for a moment in careful calculation before they settled on the woman across the table from her.

"You have a funny way of trying to break me, if this is how you plan on doing it."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja watched as Keira attempted to break from the cuffs. She knew well enough that Keira was smart, albeit unstable, but not crazy enough to try and attack the woman in her own palace. Of course she could also have overestimated the stability of her mind or even how much value she placed on her own life. This was a woman who Anja had faced several times before but not frequent in any case, there were instances where they've been bitter allies but mostly along the way they've been enemies, rivals even.

Break you?

"I'm not trying to break you," Anja spoke softly and left not hint as to whether or not she was being deceptive. That was how all Umbarans were; difficult to judge and aloof.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Once again there was that insistence that this wasn't an antagonistic event, something that only gave Keira more reason to be skeptical about the entirety of it all. Never had the two been completely at ease around the other, and anything that transpired between them was always laced with some sense of enmity. There was no doubt in her mind that this was no different. Perhaps not in such an obvious manner as it had been in the past, but it was there nonetheless. There was nothing to separate this from any other confrontation the two had had in the past, except for the lack of immediate violence. "So you expect me to join your cause without any fight instead? I think you might be more unstable than even I am, if you think there's any chance of that happening." Her tone was just a touch challenging with those words spoken.

No move was made towards the food, and it seemed as if she didn't notice it was there in the first place. There were too many variables in play to make her even remotely comfortable with any aspect of the arrangement. The only facet of things she was satisfied was the fact that her weapon was close at hand. But even that did little, given that her hands were still cuffed in front of her, limiting her range of mobility and making it nearly impossible for her to wield the plasma blade with any manner of efficiency. Something Anja was no doubt acutely aware of and had likely arranged purposefully. "You aren't going to get anywhere fast if we just keep sitting around like this. Give me something interesting to do, or get on with things. Let's move this along a little bit, at least."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

"You misunderstand me. Be angry if you want, hate me if you must... Or not." She walked over to the table, sitting down on it with a hand resting on the back of the chair neatly tucked inward. Anja's gaze was still fixed on Keira, from the cuffs back to the young woman's face; noticing everything in between. Her perceptions were her strongest features, she saw things in people that they themselves could not. This made her somewhat of a prophet to many but clearly Keira would not see her the same way.

The woman's chest rose insignificantly as she took a deep breath before releasing the oxygen in the form a quiet sigh that escaped her lips. "I think you and I can agree on something," she wondered if that was true or if perhaps she spoke too soon. "Jedi and Sith; both are equally foolish. Can you agree to that? There's no purpose in a code, or some belief that this 'force' was indeed alive or worth revering in such capacity." One hand rested on the table with her, fingers tapping along the surface in a rhythmic pattern.

"Of course Sith tend to be more agreeable," her head tilted towards Keira. A smile almost came to Anja's face as she said that, but it never came. "So why do you continue to hate me? Do you honestly believe past events are worth grasping?" Her voice was clearly inquisitive, almost curious like a child asking how something works. "I'm not going to tell you 'accept what you are and who you will become.'" Was that sarcasm? Anja was full of surprises. The Umbaran rose back to her feet, "but one way or the other you will witness the veracity of my way." Anja's hand that was previously tapping reached to her side and procured a small key.

Before she provided it, Anja walked over to a table where a vibroblade rested, picking up the weapon she walked back over towards the table and tossed the key in the woman's general direction.

"No one will aid me if you choose to kill me."
[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

In the instant after Keira caught the key the cuffs that had previously bound her wrists fell to the ground, and she let that small, insignificant object fall with them. All at once she seemed far more energized, a sensation almost immediately recognized as the Force flowing through her body far more freely. It provided its own sort of adrenaline, but she knew better than to attempt anything too incredibly reckless. That would only get her killed. As carefree and brash as she wanted to act, she did hold a sort of regard for her own life. Most times that regard only extended so far as not receiving any life-threatening injuries, but she knew better than to push the limits of Anja's hospitality. Her mettle had been tested during their previous encounters, and it wasn't found lacking. Now they had reached a sort of stalemate.

Without comment she released a burst of the Force that cracked like a gunshot in the enclosed space, intended to throw Anja against the back wall. Regardless of whether it was successful or not, she wouldn't lash out further, leaving that as a sole demonstration of both her capabilities and the fact that she didn't fear the other woman. No other attempts would be made on her life. Her blade hadn't even found its way to her hand. "You're right, the Force is a tool to be manipulated. Nothing more, nothing less. To believe otherwise is a waste of time. It's where both the Jedi and the Sith fall short, and where they're ultimately mistaken." Both dogmas were foolish, and nothing short of a waste of time in her eyes. Such was the reason she chose to follow neither of them. It was always better to follow one's own path through life.

A quiet chuckle escaped her, and she shook her head, a crooked smile remaining on her lips even after she fell silent. During the exchange she hadn't so much as shifted position beyond removing her restraints. "Do you really think this is all just because of what happened in the past? That I feel this way just because of what you did to me five years ago? No, this is about you not knowing when to give up and shove off. You need to learn to take a hint when I try to kill you three times previously. That usually means someone isn't interested. You're either going to kark off and leave me alone, or I'm going to find my own way out of here again, whether you like it or not." Her gaze remained steadily on Anja, amber eyes meeting those pale irises without any hesitation. This was the closest to peaceful conversation the two would ever get.

Almost lazily she reached up to palm her lightsaber, holding the blade at her side beneath the table and igniting it. With a flick of the wrist she sent the weapon flying towards Anja. It wouldn't come close to do any real damage, assuming it got that far, and it would return to her hand after the burning edge passed mere centimeters in front of the other's throat. "I don't believe you, but thanks for the reassurance. Now, are you going to show me what you mean about your veracity, or are we just going to sit here and pretend we don't hate each other for the entire day?" For her own part she would much rather have things move on rather than exchange thinly veiled insults or threats.

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

The sudden blast of energy was not unexpected but nonetheless the shockwave was surprisingly powerful. It seems even in her state of fatigue that she intended by all means to fight for her life if she had to, Anja's hand went out; she wasn't a master in telekinesis but she was able to offset the initial blast with one of her own, merely being shoved back like being pushed in the shoulder rather than tossed across the great hall like ragdoll. Her wintry blue eyes glared menacingly, the usually barren orbs pursued the weapon as it spun towards her head where it stopped only inches away from contact.

How could she describe it? Audacity... No. Resolution. "Your resolve is to be in control of your life, that is why you fight me, to prove that you are stronger... Not to prove to me, to prove to yourself that you're not weak." The Host Lord began to walk forward unhurriedly in the direction of her opponent. This was perhaps the first time the witch had even spoken to her like this during a fight, usually the woman was calm, cold, and silent; a weapon and nothing else. This battle was different.

Magicks surrounded her, invisibly and visibly alike. The force itself was torn asunder as she ripped it from the fabric of existence through sheer will alone. It was a tool, and that tool gathered to her palm in the form of dark tendrils of pure dark side energy. First she flicked her hand towards an alusteel Imperial emblem on either side of them, ripping the devices off the wall and flinging them towards Keira in am attempt to flank the Dark Jedi. Following the motion, she directed her open hand to the prisoner, unleashing a swarm of winged arachnids no larger than humming birds. The creatures were conjured from her Sith Magic, illusions but ones that were terribly realistic and disturbingly unkind on all forms of perception--even droids were unable to determine the falsity in their nature.

The vibroblade of hers was held tightly in her right hand, and only the slightest signs of her readiness to take on the Niman stance should Keira attempt to engage in close proximity rather than at a distance.

[member="Keira Ticon"]