Private Pain and Enlightenment

[Lirka Ka]

Fortress Imperious, Brig

Victory, was a bitter sweet taste for Lirka. No, not because of the loss of Imperial life: she could care less for the rabble of Legionnaires and Sithlings that dotted across the surface of Mordinae as she prepared the Great Hunt for the extermination of all those who had taken up arms on the planet, but there was a more pressing matter at hand. A captive had been taken among from all the degenerate lifeforms that had tried to throw themselves against her planet. One Alwine Daye , an old friend. If she could be called a friend anymore.

But, such things had dual purpose, like they always did for the Sephi: extract information, and teach her poor deluded friend the enlightenment that had been forced upon Lirka herself. Her footsteps echoed throughout the halls, some of the starved skeletal faces of other prisoners looked out upon the Governor that had imprisoned with equal measures of disgust, hatred, and fear. For unlike usual, Lirka had not clad herself in the battle plate she seemed to wear on all occasionals: it was mere civilian clothes this time, exposing some of her “figure” that lay beneath or the lack thereof. For Lirka was a walking brick of unnatural muscle, the sight of metal that jutted out from her arms from the cybernetics sprinkled across her form, amd the outline of various tubing causing the flesh to jut. A creature remade in a vat, and filled with the cruel and awful intellect of a creature with nothing left to fear and a single minded goal.

She approached the cell now, flanked by two imperial torture droids. With a click, the ray shield of Alwine’s cell deactivated: Lirka looked at her meager form, stripped of weapons and armor and given the meek attire that all prisoners were given in the brig, a mixture of disappointed and disgusted lined her androgonyous face.

“I would hope you may have considered the errors of your ways since our last meeting.”

It had indeed been some time, close to a week: a week in which the Governor had isolated herself from all other life, to muse the Galaxy, to muse the mortals that inhabited, and to muse the worthlessness of so much of the life that infested it like Vermin.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Lirka Ka

Huela lotha feheri jumping pholor lil' orlingg…

The last thing Alwine remembered was being trapped in those tunnels beneath the city of Mandalore. The dim light had followed her wherever she had run to, the crumbling of the ceiling once planetside bombardment had begun making the entire thing too unsafe to remain under. But that had not been what she'd been trying to escape. Instead, a monster chased her, a monster so large and so intimidating, though it was not its size that had scared the petite woman. It had never been the size at all.

Uss fell tir lueth bump ukt karliik…

The world had gone dark. Alwin had been certain that she had won, that she had escaped. She had successfully rolled between the legs of the monster and emerged on the other side, on her legs, still running. And then the monster held her weapon above her head, and Alwine thought she'd uttered a prayer for the dead, but she wasn't completely sure. It had not been Alwine's life that had flashed before her eyes in that moment. Her life, the Lupine thought, had never been worthy enough of flashing.

Ilhar ul'kas lil' klen'ne...

What had flashed instead were the junctions within her life. All the places where Alwine Hilde Lechner had made choices, and what they had led to. The junctions flashed by quickly enough - there weren't that many of them, for most of her life she had been in training to be nothing but a servant, her physical location preventing her from ever breaking free in any way other than death. But after that… After that it was the life not lived that flashed. The life of what had been missed, of what had been given away. What would never again be.

Lueth lil' klen'ne telanthus…

And then she had woken up. That first day had been the most terrible one, where her mind had been certain that she once again was imprisoned on Stewjon. Every sound to her sensitive ears was like the footsteps of the jailors, coming to break another bone, coming to pull another of her nails. She had been so terrified that she couldn't have shifted into her wolf form even if she'd wanted to; the wolf itself, those two years ago so fierce and so protective, was now hiding behind her with its tail tuck between its back legs.

Nau mzild feheri jumping pholor lil' orlingg…

Slowly, she adjusted.

Then the torture droids had begun to work. Alwine's wolf grew from its fear in the corner, and now she found herself battling it instead of the droids. She could handle their pain, handle the ripping sensations that coursed through her body. As long as they were not breaking bones, she could hold on. And if they were going to break her bones, she preferred to be in her human form and not stuck inside the wolf.

Several months on Stewjon… Surely that was a sign of at least a few good weeks in this place?

Nindol lotha feher alus ulu lil' shuk...

The most painful of the memories had been brought back to the surface. The droids were better skilled than the men in the Stewjoni prison. Much better skilled. And in between the sessions, Alwine could not rest, could not sleep. She had read reports of such things. She knew what was supposed to happen. The pain would grow bigger, eventually the bones would break, and she would be plagued by the ghosts of her past until her mind broke, possibly forever.

Nindol lotha feher zexen'umaus delmah...

But the ghosts never came for her. After every return from a torture session she checked. She checked her bed, she checked beneath her bed, and while usually unable to actually move, she checked the lingering shadows inside her cell. But the ghosts never came.

Nindol lotha feher inbalus inbalus siltrin...

It was hours before Lirka Ka arrived that Alwine cried. Strapped to the bed, she could not even lift her hands to wipe her own face from the wetness that now stained it. In some ways, it was a mercy. They hadn't been big on showers, though she doubted she was even strong enough to stand beneath a stream of water at present. She had cried for what felt like hours, though it was probably only a few minutes. And then her eyes had closed.

Nindol lotha feher inbalus naust...

When the voice spoke, Alwine's eyes snapped open. Had it happened? Had it happened at last? Were the ghosts here now, come for her? But if they were, why was it not her mother she heard, or any other family member. Even the last woman she had served before her imprisonment would have made more sense. But when she looked, all she saw was the tall and wide form of Lirka, wearing no armor. Practically naked.

"I have not…" she spoke, for the first time in that week, a sound that was not screaming in pain and agony, "I have not had… The time… Too… Too busy… With your droids..."

Nau mzild feheri jumping pholor lil' orlingg...

Spoiler: Translation

Five little puppies jumping on the bed.
One fell off and bump his head.
Mother called the doctor.
And the doctor said.
No more puppies jumping on the bed.

This little puppy went to the market.
This little puppy stayed home.
This little puppy had had flesh.
This little puppy had none.

No more puppies jumping on the bed.

 

[Lirka Ka]

Lirka knew that mortal life was worthless, blinded save for those handful who could see the greater picture, selfish and hedonistic. They were trapped in an eternal cycle of youthful stupidity, even if they didn't realize it themselves. A century was nothing. You could not learn truth in a century. With that revelation in mind, Lirka did not weep for the agony she inflicted on her so called "friend". No. There would be no tears. It was a lesson.

Pain was always a lesson, she could no longer bare scars in her new and grotesque form: given time her skin would refresh and regrow, smooth and soft. She hated it. Scars were stories, legends, quests. A testament to the trials that heralded greatness, and with nothing to show now but her own monstrous body. It made Lirka an ever more hateful being, but she had always been a coin. Flipping between two sides at a moment's notice. She enjoyed making the Rebel suffer, but poor poor Alwine Daye would learn today.

"Unfortunate that you do not see the lesson I am teaching you."

Lirka stepped forward, needing to go down to one knee to be at face level with the Lupine. Lirka had always been tattooed during the time her and the rebel had known each other, and now it was no different: the new ones were wild, a deep and vibrant red that matched the new color of her hair. They were organized chaos, twisting and twirling, like the maddening void of Chaos that had tried to claim her soul. Her eyes were the same as always, a piercing icy blue that constantly held judgement within them: surrounding by the center point of all these maddening swirls, two near "explosions" around each eye, like super novas announcing the destruction of a solar system. Her eyes were judging again, a mixture of contempt, disappointment, and drive.

"You lost. We pushed back the Barbarians. You have heralded in this system's death: as we speak the Legion marches on Moridinae, slaughtering the fools who stood against us. Entire family lines extinguish under the fires of purgation: I should thank you. We have finally fulfilled what we promised when we stood as worthless Confederate chaff: the annihilation of the Mandalorians."

A smile encroached on her blocky face, both mocking and entirely sincere. She wanted her to suffer, to see the errors of her way. It was all she truly wanted, everything else was secondary. Alwine would see enlightenment. Or she would break and be thrown to the Sith. And Lirka would not allow the latter.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Lirka Ka

Alwine had never been part of the Mandalorian hatred. She had not understood why the Confederacy had gone so hard for them, wasting precious time and resources, when so many planets within their own territories had needed those resources, had needed that attention. A potential enemy in the distance that had no way of reaching them and being effective within the short range had been more important than taking care of the billions already within their borders. It was why she had stayed firmly out of those wars, refusing to sign up for them time and time again.

But when Lirka mentioned success in annihilating Mandalorians, all Alwine could do, despite the pain coursing through her body, was just stare. The news of the loss of her side in this specific war did not surprise her. The odds of that happening had been big before they even stepped foot on the planet, and the dangers were well known in advance. But there was a huge abyss between winning this war and annihilating all the Mandalorians.

With much effort, Alwine's mouth cracked into a smile.

"You continue to hold the planet," she rasped,"but you are nowhere nearer to annihilating the Mandalorians than you were a year ago. The Mandalorian people live still, and this war shall play itself again and again and again, rewt. There shall not be a true moment's breath until the Sith Empire falls… And before this or other newer version of it rises."

Hearing was easier than seeing. Through puffy lids, Alwine made the effort of opening her eyes once more, looking at Lirka. She noted the tattoos, the different hair… When they had met on the field of battle however many days ago that had been, Lirka had been completely covered, and Alwine had not glanced at any of the more physical changes her former friend had undergone. BUt between the tattoos, between it all, she saw the scar-less flesh.

And with every passing second, Alwine knew that her chances of making it out of that chamber, of returning to the Unknown Regions, shrank a considerable amount. There was a good probability that she would never see her friends or her new family again. The skies of Eve would be a frozen memory, her office in the Tower would be given to someone else… For all she knew, it was as good as over. Even if a rescue team was sent, who could promise they would find her at all? Or even arrive on time?

"You are the same worthless chaff you were when you served the Confederacy. Swapping one master for another will never change that."

 

[Lirka Ka]

The laugh was slow, but it built up. She was truthfully amused by the young wolf's spirit: as she always had been to some extent. It was fiery, fierce, and it had reminded her of many things: including herself in her younger and more naive years of wandering the Galaxy just looking for blood and carnage to fuel her violent hedonism.

A massive hand reached out, patting the girl on the cheek a few times. Though the gesture held little affection, and oozed mockery.

"You poor poor girl, their people die. Those that remain have been wiped away, you, and your Rebel friends have caused the deaths of millions. But we are both murderers, and such things weigh little on our souls."

She pulled her hand back, shaking her head ever so slightly.

"I told you once, long ago, you reminded me of a girl I had once known on Choah. A slave, thrown to my feet in some meager attempt by her Masters to earn my favor. She was fiery, resistant to the cards life had given her. She wanted to be like me, be strong, to have the rich and powerful grovel at her feet to earn favor. But she was naive, weak, too weak to truly fight the chains. I set her loose in the area...she was torn apart to ribbons in mere hours. You are naive. You lack vision beyond the foolish rebellion of youth."

She turned her back now, continuing to ramble. Oh Force, here she went again.

"I made those same mistakes, and now I must rectify them. I am giving you the chance to do the same, to fix the mistakes of moronic youth. There is much potential for you, you can do great things than be broken in the bowels of some military installation. You thrash out against authority and the Empire without understanding the Galaxy beyond the narrow views of mortality. People are wild, they are uncontrolled. They were isolate in their own selfishness, and once the next great threat arises they will all be annihilated and the Galaxy we know will cease to exist. And you, and all the insurgents that push for it, will be the cause of our destruction."

She turned back to her now, stepping closer. The grin plastered across her face was wicked, and oozed arrogance.

"Perhaps. Perhaps, but that is where you come in. My dear little Rebel. You will tell me the information about these so-called "Agents of Chaos". Fleet movements. Headquarters. Personnel. Operations. Resist all you may like, I have eternity. You, do not."

Alwine Daye

 

[Alwine Daye]

Lirka Ka

Murderer. Alwine wanted to laugh at the accusation, but now that her big moment of bravery had passed, she could do little more than give the other woman a crooked smirk. The word did not bother her. She had spent her time adjusting to the killing of those who had not yet fired the first shots during her service with the Confederacy. For all its pretense about being about the people, their tendency to not only let innocents get killed but sometimes outright kill them themselves had provided all the arch that she'd needed on the inside to get used to it.

The first time she had killed and not out of self defense, she had been so worried. Not over their deaths - they were scouts, working for the enemy. But she worried, almost frantically, about her lack of an emotional response to the killing itself. At the heart of the core lay the fact that Alwine, for whatever reasons had bee in place to cause that, was not someone you would consider a good person by any measure. She did not care for the lives of innocents or those caught in the way, not when they were just strangers. And the label of murderer was one that in her view could be applied to so many who just lived and breathed that he entire baggage that was meant to come with it simply did not exist for her.

"Nindyn vel'uss xun xo'al ulu malar whol nintan," she whispered, "xuat rytho'le ulu dro."

Listening to Lirka was becoming a challenge. Alwine wished she could blame it on the content of her words, but the truth was that the interrogations had exhausted her much beyond what she wanted to admit. She was tired. She wanted to shift into her wolf and sleep the pain and memories off for at least a week. Joining in on a philosophical debate beyond the shallow waters was too big for her in that moment, and she just let her head roll slightly to the side, remaining quiet.

But then when Lirka ended her monologue and instead asked about Agents of Chaos intel, not even the pain in Alwine's body could keep her from laughing.

"Our location is known to the wide public," she said, looking at her big former friend, "And I am only a mouth that speaks. I am not involved in the military or any of the combatant's missions."

It had taken more than one person thus by surprise. Between Stewjon and the Agents, Alwine had been a combatant. Few would actually say it out loud, but she considered herself to be a pretty mediocre combatant, able to fight, but not sufficiently great at it. In her case, there was a good reason that she neve saw any promotions. There were always people who could do that better around her.

When Discordia gave her a free hand to try what she willed… Alwine had chosen this. To put together all that she had learned and take a position that didn't rely on her blade, but her on her words instead. She had flourished there and shined, and very quickly made her way to the leader of the Speakers position.

Sadly, that position would help Lirka's goals with absolutely nothing, unless the gargantuan elf wanted to hear about proper tea protocol on Alderaan or other such things that Alwine was required to know because of her position.

"Those who do not try to fight," she whispered, "do not deserve to live."

 

[Lirka Ka]

Slowly, but surely, the humored grin that had appeared across Lirka's face disappeared into the usual cold demeanor that had become all so common during their time together. It seemed things were not going so immediately as planned, maybe some vestige of a frown grew on the unnatural features: but it could always be so difficult to tell with someone as two-faced as Lirka.

"Disappointing. You use to me has diminished immensely, Trash."

She stepped away for a time, a handful of minutes only, leaving the hum of the torture droids and the hissing of the facility itself as the only noise between them. Ideas churned in her mind as the Governor mapped out the next course of action. Yes...yes...ideas formed out of the memories of Lirka's own twisted existence. And she returned to Alwine Daye again, crouching once more to be on eye level with the bound insurgent.

"Do you wonder what happens when you die, Trash? Where we go?"

There was no hatred in her voice, it was a legitimate question: to some extent, regardless of the nature of it, the question held no innocence. A deep seated sadism was poorly hidden beneath it, oh, Lirka had ideas alright: so many, many, ideas.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Lirka Ka

The grin disappearing from Lirka's face did not soothe Alwine at all. A wolf herself, she knew what a predator was, and while many prey had fallen to her, she was all too aware that she was now in the hands of one. Barking was rarely scary, but now something else was going to happen.

Lirka stepping away was proof of that. The noise surrounded Alwine, and she could feel every inch of her on edge as she did not know when or if Lirka would return, or when and if the torture droids would resume their work on her. They were nearby, she knew, but for the moment, they were not touching her.

To be awake in such moments was torture. Alwine closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, but she could not. Her heart was beating much too fast for that, and there would be no rest, not even a break as her body reminded her it still hurt, time and time again.

She wasn't certain how long it had been since Lirka had gone, but it felt like eternity had passed before she returned. Lirka's voice felt rough to Alwine's ear. There was no kindness in it, no empathy. Not even before her changes did Lirka hold any of those qualities, yet now, perhaps because of the situation, it seemed to Alwine that something had changed, that there was a layer that hadn't been there before but was dripping with it now.

What happened when they died?

"The Netherworld?" she asked the large woman, the confusion enough to take her mind off her pain for the moment, "On Stewjon we were told that when dead, our souls would wade through a large river. The souls that make it to the other side are reunited with their families, and those that are swept away by the waters are eternally doomed to exist and not exist at once."

 

[Lirka Ka]

In a true duality of nature, Lirka had sickly amusement grow across her features. It was time for Alwine Daye to know the agony of what laid beyond existence. But in truth, this was Lirka's challenge: to finally break away from those mortal bonds that so weakly clung to her new form, and all that she must destroy to finally herald Thustra into it's new and glorious age.

She unsheathed a wicked dagger, one of her own masterful smith works, she didn't let the weapon be seen by the poor poor girl until it was too late. She raised immediately, far too fast, and plunged the knife into her stomach: a twist and a pull out from her side in a squall of gore, the blood caught in the delicate runes etched into it's dark blade. She laughed, a sadistic thing. And as Alwine's soul departed her body for the rolling conscious of the netherworld the Sephi could be heard shouting out to dark robes figured.

Many plans, yes, many plans.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Lirka Ka

They had lied on Stewjon. As the eternal darkness took Alwine over she let out a final sigh and a smile, at last, freed of her pain.

She had heard some Force Users speak of a place called the Netherworld, which was where Forcies were supposed to go to. But there was no Netherworld, not that she was aware of. No magical locations of terror and fantasy, no ghosts and demons walking around screaming or helping.

She had spoken of an afterlife, in which one must cross a river to meet their loved ones on the other side, or let the waters take them and be swept forever. Sometimes, Alwine wondered if she would ever have a reason to cross the river when she got to it. She had no love for her mother, and both of her brothers had abandoned her long before she stepped foot out of the Confederacy. What few friends she had were very much alive so there would be no one to greet her.

But such worries could be saved for another day, for now, there was no river for Alwine to cross.

Once, she had heard a tale about a great Wolf god that ruled the under-realm, where the dead went to. They said he split the souls of the dead into packs that could never be broken, into groups that could never be undone. It had always sounded horrible to her, not being able to choose those who were with you, and yet be stuck with them forever, unable to even kill them to get them out of your fur. But there was no great Wolf god here either.

Hundreds of different stories about what happens when you're dead would have flown through Alwine's mind, and had she been aware of any of it, she would have pointed out that none of them held true for her.

Because once Alwine was dead, there was no Netherworld, there was no afterlife, there was no Darkness.

There was just.

Nothing.

 

[Lirka Ka]

In the depths of Fortress Imperious the most unholy of rituals had now begun, the hulking figure of Lirka stood was arms crossed as she looked down upon chanting disciples that hid all features underneath dark robes. Their chanting echoed, and soon began to speak as one mighty voice that called upon the Dark Arts of the Sith. Had Lirka been a weaker woman she would've been afraid, instead she merely remained unsettled to the deepest core of her being: it was a nicer resurrection than her own.

They continued, unflinching as their dark tendrils hunted for the desired soul in the realm beyond. Lirka could only wish she had such a pleasant experience as Alwine Daye , Lirka had felt her soul torn apart and suffer in the vast and burning realm of Chaos: the agony had been immense, even in that gestalt state. And the sudden experience of being forced to live in a half decayed corpse as it was remade. But alas, Lirka did not have the time to let the Wolf's body decay and be remade.

She had instead thrown the creature into a Bacta Tank to cure the wounds inflicted. The icy blue eyes stared at that tank, ever similar to the one she had been reborn in. Listening as the chanting began to grow into a thunderous choir of dark words.

And the tendrils found the soul, it was a jarring thing to experience as existence was forced back into flesh that should be dead. But in truth, it was ultimately a rather anti-climatic thing.

"Leave me."

With their work done, the disciples dispersed and Lirka stepped foward. Waiting for a sign of life from her experiment.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Lirka Ka

There had been nothing. No consciousness to float, no wandering in the darkness, no afterlife, no netherworld. Alwine had seen nothing, remembered nothing. And when her eyes opened, the confusion was all too easy to see on her face.

The rebreather kept her from being able to speak, but she knew her body well enough. She knew it was being healed by the bacta she was submerged in, and when her vision returned to ocus, her gaze landed immediately on Lirka.

How had she come here? Had the torture become so bad that she had lost consciousness in such a manner that she could not recall? Why was she in a bacta tank, anyway? Her well being had never mattered all too much for Lirka or the Sith Empire.

There was little she could do but stare at the Sephi, her expression open and easy for the reading.

 

[Lirka Ka]

A disgusting smile began to creep across her face, it was time for enlightenment, time for little little Alwine Daye to see the dark and awful truths that Chaos had gifted Lirka.

"Do you see now, little wolf? Do you see!? There is nothing! Or there is suffering! There is no in-between, no paradise, no haven for the dead! It is the here and the now, and that is all! We can no longer bind ourselves by the petty morals that keep us from our true potential, no longer stand idly by and let our dreams and ambitions slip away like water!"

The sephi quickly became more animated, throwing her arms in the air and stamping back and forth like a madwoman: which in all truth, she probably was.

"No place for meaningless freedoms and hopeless democracies! There can be only Progress! The future will bend to the will of the strong and the weak will fade away into the shriveled and pathetic masses!"

Her fist slammed into the one of the control panels, cracking buttons but getting the desire effect of more or less quickly draining the woman's pod and letting her back out to the world. One final time, Lirka allowed weakness into her heart, a giant hand was held out to the little wolf. Her face showed no emotion, but her eyes showed much: insanity, pleading, passion. It seems the Kaminoans had done more than just warp her body.

"And so I will offer you, one final time, join me. Stand with the strong, persevere to the future."