Reformed, Reawakened, Reignited

[Shade of Decay]

The trip down to the Ebion's primary medical ward had been one full of surprised stares, nervous muttering, and no few hints of danger to come. Tsisaar rarely ventured among the primary populace of his ship anymore, spending most of his time in his private chambers, unergoing his own treatments. However, while the ship primarily functioned as a small mobile enclave, his specifications for the redesign had included a state-of-the-art medical and cloning facility.

Something he'd recently been given the opportunity to utilize for more than his own tests.

"How long?" he asked a medical droid moving nearby, his raspy voice cutting through the sterile air like a jagged knife. The droid turned, viewing the bacta tank he was watching. "Two minutes," it said, after glancing at some readouts. Tsisaar nodded, sending the droid on its way.

He'd been waiting by the bacta tank for some time by this point, forgoing his usual treatments to ensure that he was around when his guest would reawaken. Much of the last few hours had been spent in meditation, though some time had been spent simply watching the woman who was floating in the gelatinous healing substance.

It wasn't hard to remember what she'd looked like only a short time before, on the surface of Pantora. Broken, defeated, scarred, maimed; one arm missing from the elbow, another hand completely destroyed. A body covered in burn marks, a face that was covered in blood from the nose down. Now, however, thanks to the bacta tank, and Tsisaar's ability to clone the replacement limbs and organs she needed, the woman appeared pristine.

As perfect in health as any living creature could aspire to be; the opposite, entirely, of what she had been before.

While he waited, he noticed as she began to stir, reddish-hued skin disturbing the bacta. Soon the tank began to drain, and she was lifted out of it, quickly attended to by medical droids while she slowly started to awaken. Once fully awakened, and properly clothed, she was quickly brought back to where Tsisaar sat; he glanced over her with a critical eye, nodding at the droids, who quickly left.

"I trust you are feeling well rested?" he asked relaxedly. "I should hope, given how long you've been recuperating."

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

Distant.

The world was anew, alive with lungs and flesh that breathed in sterile air - disinfectant provoking Iresias' nose; her surroundings slowly being soaked in as she regained a sense of self. She knew not of her location, her connection to the Force feeling constrained somehow. What could definitely be recalled was a fight - what felt like a lifetime ago, her failure.

Her gaze fell upon the man - the very thing that would forever be burned into Iresias' memory, the catalyst of this strange circumstance; however, she stopped herself from speaking foolishly as she took account of herself. Whole, unscathed. Her mind jolted alive with surprise, yet now was more confused by the meaning of this moment. Why didn't he just leave her to die?

Suddenly his voice snapped her mind back into the present, her eyes blinking a few times as she focused. "I feel... fine. And what do you mean by how long? What is this place and what do you want?" Her tone quickly gave way to aggression, albeit at the expense of her unbalanced state of mind. Iresias could feel a lump in her throat, her eyes stinging with hot tears. The creature wanted something out of this, and Iresias had no say in the longevity of the foreseeable future.

No sovereignty, forced to be compliant.

A new perspective was born.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Confused. Uncertain, trepidatious, perhaps even afraid. Tsisaar had expected all of this, especially given how their previous meeting had ended. The tears starting to well in her eyes were a development he didn't entirely expect, however—outright aggression would've been more akin to what he dealt with on a fairly regular basis, given his life in the Sith. "This is my ship," he replied placidly. "The Ebion. You've been kept unconscious while my droids repaired the damage done to you, both by myself and others previous. Any nausea or disorientation you feel should disappear rapidly."

He stopped for a moment, studying Iresias more closely. Not her expression, but her bearing, her complexion. "If it shouldn't, inform me immediately, as it might mean the cloned organs aren't responding properly." And she'd needed a fair few of those, after the damage she'd sustained on Pantora, let alone whatever had happened to her prior. He stroked one facial tendril thoughtfully, still studying her features. Perfect, without blemish, due just as much to her breeding as to Tsisaar's facility's ability to repair her.

Should she know how to use such things to her advantage, she could prove quite a useful asset indeed.

His hand dropped as he finished his inspection, having left his silent gaze on Iresias for what would likely prove an uncomfortable span of time to many. "You're not here based on my wants, however," he said after a moment. "You're here based on your own, from what you said on Pantora. Of course, it's far too late now to retract that wish, so you'll just have to learn to live with your choice." He stood, smoothing out his robe as he did so, and turned towards the exit from the medical bay.

"Follow," he commanded, and started walking.

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

Did she owe this creature anything in return? If she truly wished it, Iresias could attempt an escape. But where would that lead the estranged noble? A sudden pause of thought allowed her to erase this notion. She needed this, and without wanting to admit it, she needed the Sith. A cold prickling sensation invaded her skin as dead eyes pierced her bones. An unnerving anxiety dispersed throughout Iresias' body as she kept quiet and stewed in the moment.

He saved her, but she would never admit it with words. The galaxy would be forevermore distorted, along with the very world Iresias thought she understood. These feelings, this fear, was not typical of her demeanor; yet here she was, exposed in the light of her shortcomings and now struggling to even comprehend existence.

Who was she, truly?

Like a lost child, she listened. No retort, no sass, only silent compliance as she heeded the Sith's words and followed his command. Her mind a looping track of racing thoughts all clashing and merging into an enigma of what could only be described as utter neurosis bordering on the precipice of madness. Her frame trembled softly, her eyes darting around as she took note of the ship's interior.

This was her choice, after all.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Tsisaar remained as silent as Iresias, leading her through the passageways of the vessel. It was good that she'd accepted her fate quickly, rather than attempting to flee, or attack him. It'd be a waste to have to rebuild her again. The silence wouldn't last forever, though; there were things he needed to inform her of, unasked questions that he was sure would need answers. "Since you seem so confused," he began, speaking plainly, "I think now would be a good time to mention that, other than surviving, your testing on Pantora wasn't pass or fail...merely to give me an idea of your abilities. An entrance exam, of sorts."

Surviving had been the true test, anyways; the fact that she was able to draw on the Force enough to attack, even without skill due to her low training and heavily-damaged body, showed that she had decent potential. Something Tsisaar intended to draw on. "I can't say the same for any future testing, however." He waved a hand relaxedly, and a door in front of them opened. Just inside was a large room, obviously meant to be used for training; however, the various seats around the outside also made it look somewhat akin to an arena.

The lone acolyte on the other side of the room, knelt in meditation and with a weapon at his side, only gave more credence to such a thought.

"It is unfortunate to say that this vessel is already full of occupants, and as such there are currently no rooms available," he explained. Hearing his voice, the red-skinned acolyte at the far end stood, brandishing his training weapon. "There are ways around that, however. Acolyte Ordri, over there, has thus far been the worst-performing student aboard this ship; while that isn't to say that he is weak, it does mean that he's the one who has to defend his position." From within his robe, he produced Iresias's lightsaber; he tinkered with it for a moment, turning a few dials.

Once satisfied, he handed it off to Iresias, waving her forwards. "With your weapons set at training saber strength, the goal is clear. Defeat your opponent. The victor stays aboard this ship, while the loser shall be sent back to Bastion to await reassignment." He grinned slightly underneath his facial tendrils.

It would prove quite a shock to them both that Iresias's weapon was actually set to lethal strength, while Ordri held only a true training saber.

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

Confused? No, Iresias understood the gravity of the situation more clearly now. Her thoughts regarded that of the Sith's intentions, his passivity only extending to essentially inform her that something about her was adequate; in his interest. This very moment was the genesis of all the opportunity that could be sown into an investment, a lucrative span of time in the pursuit of information - knowledge to expand and conquer as a legitimate presence within the galaxy.

And what was to be reaped? Minds, ambition, the subservience of the fragile mortal psyche that would not defy Iresias' nobility with action, but embrace the fearful obedient squalor of their own lowly genetics and breeding. To no longer strive, but to strive to serve - to be the hands that support the superiority that was Iresias' beauty.

This was the foundation for a bright future.

Upon entering a sizable training area, the excitement of the predicament reached new heights. The Sith explained the acolyte, and the current status of the vessel's maxed occupancy. Iresias regarded the creature, then the acolyte with a disturbed curiosity - the humor in the circumstance that this pupil had to lose what was likely his own future, if it came to such absolutes. And yet it became an even more humorous spectacle. The Sith granting an offering - a gift.

There it was, the blackened hilt of Iresias' lightsaber being relinquished back into her possession. The weapon resonated with a warmth that mingled with the girl's soul as she ignited the corrupted blade, bursts of chaotic energy sparked in multiple directions as she drew in deeply from the Force. An eerie blue hissed with torment, dancing with electricity and ethereal abuse.

She was the one to be chosen, the catalyst. There was no going back, and no more failures to be afforded.

Iresias glared at the acolyte ahead of her, pure fury flooding into her eyes as she began a slow approach.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Ordri activated his weapon as Iresias approached, holding it loosely off to his side. Iresias would soon notice that he was quite a large man, though fairly young. Beneath the relaxed-fitting training clothing, it was obvious that his body was covered in muscle, complementing how he stood a full foot taller than Iresias herself. It was safe to say that Ordri dwarved nearly every other person on the ship.

Once she came closer, she'd notice other details; he had the prominent cheek tendrils of a member of the Sith species, with prominent eyebrow stalks over a pair of blank, flat yellow eyes, with no other details. He was of extremely prominent Massassi stock, and as he settled into a ready position, it was clear that he took after his ancestors in his focus on the study of the Force. He was a warrior, first and foremost, and his face was set in an expression of grim determination.

He had no intention of losing easily to some fresh visitor to the ship.

He raised his red-bladed training saber high, adopting an even-more offensive variant of the classic Djem So opening stance, his blade angled high rather than backwards and down. "You're lucky that you're new," he said to Iresias, his voice surprisingly soft. "Being sent to Bastion or one of the academies would suit you better, anyways; somebody as untrained as you has no business being on the Ebion."

Before Iresias had an opportunity to respond, he lunged forwards, his blade coming down in a crushing vertical strike, aiming to end the fight instantly—whether by harming his opponent directly, or causing her blade to slam into her own forehead, he didn't care. He only sought immediate and total destruction.

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

The brute's words held no effect; however, in a way, Iresias saw a sliver of herself within the hulking muscle. A symbolic connection to the innermost desires of Iresias' ego, the very thing that towered over the rational cognition of the girl's judgement. But this was simply untrue, a fallacy within an understanding in this very moment. Iresias had come to a compromise within her mind, a sacrifice of her superficial workings. She was ready and willing to become more than the status of a noble, ready to transcend the boundaries of her current knowledge.

Gone were the ideals of living to self-preserve, but in flooded the ambition of growing outwards and beyond expectation. To leave a mark was more significant, and Iresias intended to do so.

As the acolyte's blade came crashing down upon Iresias, she attempted to evade the assault by side-stepping the warrior and following up with a diagonal strike intended for the right forearm as she twirled her lightsaber with an agile elegance. Her frame moved with a swiftness otherwise unseen by the likes of the Sith during their previous meeting.

Failure was no longer an option. And nothing would stop Iresias.

Nothing.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Ordri grunted slightly, impressed that Iresias managed to dodge his strike. There had been many in the past who fell to such a testing blow—but now it was time for Ordri to show his own speed. While many associated Djem So with a lack of speed, a lack of mobility, fit only for large brutes with nothing to use but power, there were just as many who had worked to overcome such limitations. Incorporating speed and fluidity into their bladework, rather than just power, so that they could more effectively dominate their enemies.

Dath Bane was one such. Anakin Skywalker, another. More recently, the Sith Emperor, Darth Carnifex.

And Ordri himself.

As Iresias strike came in, Ordri moved in one fast, fluid motion. First, he stepped in towards her, bringing his left foot forward, quickly rising his blade to catch and redirect Iresias's own. As he did so, knocking aside the blue-bladed weapon, he uncrossed his arms, that simple rotation of the blade quickly transforming into a full-powered undercut towards Iresias's left hip and abdomen as he stepped in again, driving the force of the blow through from his legs all the way out to his fingers. Another immediately fight-ending blow, if Iresias couldn't manage to dodge or parry it.

Though Tsisaar, observing from the back, had no doubt she'd manage to do either; he was pleased to see her operating witha fully functional body, and just how gracefully she could manage to move and attack when not falling apart.

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

Move. Now.

Iresias saw it, within the brief window after her own blade was knocked aside; time slowed, her body jumped back on instinct as the acolyte's ferocity came uncomfortably close, nearly grazing her abdomen. Her heart thrummed within her chest cavity, all the while a playful grin crept over her features. Her teeth aligned perfectly into a picture-perfect example, yet there was a crooked nature to its meaning and truth. Her eyes came alive, the irises deepening with a dark red. Something more stirred within the noble's being, an untapped resource of unharnessed rage that - in this moment, made its presence known.

Iresias' demeanor shifted, her frame taking on a lower stance as she began to pace around the warrior. She watched him with a predatory gaze - her fingers tapping against the hilt of her lightsaber like a spider's legs creeping along in rhythmic tandem. "Being sent to Bastion or one of the training academies would suit you better." She said in a condescending, arrogant manner. The very thing the brute uttered now being deflected with an intent to elicit a specific response.

He may have been trained well, perhaps was an even more adept combatant; however, his cleverness had all but been displayed. If Iresias could get under his skin, then the fight itself would be that much simpler to anticipate.

Another twirl accompanied with a hissing buzz as the blue blade cut the air itself. Iresias' eyes staying trained on the acolyte's body language.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

"You're more arrogant than you have right to be," came Ordri's retort, delivered in just as condescending a tone as Iresias had spoken. Her simple flourishes were matched with one of his own, transitioning from the high guard his last strike had placed him in to a neutral ready stance. "I shall enjoy beating that out of you." His bright yellow orbs followed the woman's movements dilligently, while he remained motionless beyond turning to match her strafing.

Where Iresias might have been expecting another attack, however, he continued to stand still, just watching her. Having already evaded two of his attacks, he was reevaluating his strategy as he went, and now seemed to be awaiting her own attack. Tsisaar, watching from the back, frowned at the development. The last he had noticed, Ordri had been focused entirely on immediate domination of his opponents, a strategy that had served him quite well at first.

When the other acolytes had begun to notice the strategy and work around it, however, Ordri quickly fell to the bottom of the pack; yet now he seemed to have been learning from his own mistakes, taking a slower pace for the moment, rather than wasting all of his energy immediately. Perhaps, Tsisaar wondered, he might have misjudged the Massassi-descended warrior.

But whether Ordri's newfound strategy would help conserve his endurance enough to make a difference would be the deciding factor.

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

Blood. If there was one thing that Iresias could recall from nearly dying twice, it was the metallic aroma of blood - a schism in her conscious mind that somehow intensified her awareness of the situation at hand. Her muscles tensed with anticipation as she couldn't be entirely confident in underestimating Ordri, given his speed and brutality. While impressed, Iresias couldn't help but be more fixated on the potential satisfaction of dissecting such a commendable specimen; how much could he endure, and what would he look like if he were to witness terror?

What was he afraid of?

He didn't know death like Iresias did, the pain and anger of such failures. The loss of one's self both physically and in pride, crippled at the core where ego drowned in the sea of contempt; an anger for everything, an irrationality of self-proclaimed monarchy above all others. How very wrong she was to feel so untouchable.

The smell of blood, her own blood. That sublime, yet agonizing reality that her pain had a purpose. It was all a mere test, and she intended to assert her will and drive to exist no matter the obstacle before her, nor the sacrifice needed of her.

She needed it, craved it.

To be magnificent.

Iresias' lightsaber intensified as her emotions became emboldened, reinforcing her presence within the Force and further degrading the very heart of the weapon - the crystal itself. Quite noticeably so, the color of the blade shifted and distorted, appearing somewhat dark purple with periodic arcs dispersing along the length with crimson strands. Her gaze locked with the acolyte in a lifeless trance, piercing through.

Blood. She wanted to see it again.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Ordri watched, unmoving, while Iresias continued to pace. His blade kept constantly between himself and her, ready to defend at a moment's notice. After some moments, though, he snorted in amusement. "Do you intend always to fight on the defensive?" he asked, contempt in his voice. "That's a weaker path than most, and your skill isn't high enough for it to work in your favour." He shifted his stance, dropping the point of his blade and setting it off to the side. The so-called fool's guard.

"Or have you merely lost your drive to fight?" he asked, still mocking. "Come, I stand wide open. Try and strike me."

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

"Your methods of intimidation mean nothing to me. But do tell, are you over-compensating for something?" A devilish grin flashed over Iresias' pale features. "A warrior you clearly are, but what use are you if you cannot even treat a lady?"

A suggestive loft of her brow and a slight tilt of her head, the subtleties of a seductress meant to somehow disengage the acolyte in even the most minuscule of ways; a psychological tactic, something Iresias could now flex at will like a well-trained muscle. "Teach me..." She said with the utmost sensual tone, breaking free of her low stance as she straightened her posture.

She stood still, continuing to cast the allure of her femininity and grandeur - the excellence of breeding through generations, her family's gift upon her and her very flesh. Pure.

Suddenly the stillness of the moment broke away, Iresias bolted toward the towering mass of muscle, enhancing her movements through the Force as she brought her blade up as if to strike diagonally; however, there would be a very sudden drop in her approach as she twirled her blade at the last moment to push through at a lower point - directly intended for Ordri's gut.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

One of Ordri's eyebrow-stalks rose in an expression of amused curiosity. "Perhaps I'll be happy to teach you," he replied as she stood still. "If you recover in time on the journey to Bastion, of course." He continued to stand as still as Iresias, watching her carefully. Trying to decide if she actually would strike, or if he would have to make the attack himself; the question was soon answered, a barely-noticeable tightening of Iresias's muscles before she launched forwards in a quick advance.

Ordri remained motionless when she first raised her weapon to attack, barely swinging his blade upwards in a movement to catch her own. When she suddenly dropped and altered the angle of her blade, he merely widened and lowered his stance significantly, nearly dropping to one knee while catching and turning her blade aside; then he sprung backwards, jumping a few feet away and making space between the pair again.

"Surely that's not the best you can do," he growled at her, with an animalistic grin on his face. If there was one thing that could truly be said about Ordri, he enjoyed fighting. He settled into a more unorthodox guard, with his hilt held shoulder high, pointing over his left elbow at Iresias. A very limited-appearing stance...

But appearances could be deceiving.

He approached slowly, strafing around like Iresias did moments before, before lunging forwards, straightening his stance and body into a powerful thrust at Iresias.

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

The thrill of colliding with the opposing blade, a rush of adrenaline as lightsabers connected and screeched in defiance of one another. Iresias grimaced as she saw that the result of her effort made little difference in deciding the duel; however, she could not simply deny the sensation of combat - the closest she could ever come to feeling truly alive.

Irritated, she backed off just as Ordri had done, her eyes trained upon his large frame as his muscles tensed and shifted with precise deliberation. "And what is your best? What have you shown me to confirm your pointless rhetoric? You and your ilk - I believe I can somewhat understand why your kind was in chains. There is no use for you in this galaxy, your blood is worth less than the dirt your species' disgusting feet walked upon."

Just as the spite left her lips, Iresias kept a mental note of Ordri's positioning and how he began to advance - a straight lunge nearly hitting its mark; however, just as the acolyte thought to pierce through, Iresias suddenly dropped her body below his blade; twisting herself in a what could be considered a slight pirouette as she attempted to slash at her opponent's legs in one fluid movement.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Ordri didn't expect the thrust to land, however, he also didn't expect Iresias to react the way she did. It was a rather abnormal response; instead of getting parried and transitioning to a different attack, he had to jump over Iresias. Her blade passed harmlessly underneath his legs, as he started to flip over her; as he did so, he swung out with his blade, aiming to catch her somewhere around the head and shoulders.

He turned through the flip afterwards, landing in an orientation where he was still facing her. By now, though, his endurance was starting to wear thin. He was breathing harder, his skin starting to glisten with sweat. If the last blow wasn't successful to take Iresias down, he'd have to find some way to end the fight quickly, or he likely wouldn't have the energy to last.

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

Again she tried, and yet once again her advances were denied by the surprising agility of such a behemoth. Just barely grazing her neck, with her shoulder taking most of Ordri's retaliation, Iresias clenched her teeth as she grunted from the pain. Her face twisted into grimace, and her frame spun around as her body tensed with frustration. She darted forward into Ordri's direction, leaping upward and crashing down into his mass with a heavy downward strike fueled utterly by Iresias' desire to succeed - her need to dominate.

She could see his fatigue, and she would not stop.

She would not falter.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Ordri grunted in satisfaction when he felt his strike connect. He didn't have time to gloat over the small victory, however, before Iresias came at him again, her blade coming down out of the air. He swing his weapon in a wide parry, knocking not only Iresias's weapon, but Iresias herself away. Once she landed, however, he wouldn't let up either.

Bolstered by his success, Ordri let loose with a roar as he ran forwards, his blade high. Coming close to Iresias, he swung down, aiming to batter her completely to the ground as he continued on past.

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Iresias Sirax]

Pressure intensified within Iresias' bones as she was flung awkwardly due to Ordri's strength alone; making contact with the ground once more, she staggered slightly - quickly redefining her posture as she became fully aware of the brute's judgement, which seemed to confide within chance and wishful thinking. Yet it would take more to thwart Iresias, even if she left much to be desired when it came to stature.

Muscles strained with renewed vigor, the noble woman's body rocketing back in opposition as she too bet victory on pure chance - her lightsaber held out to the side as her legs pumped furiously, the distance coming to a close with utmost haste.

At the very last moment, Iresias switched her blade inward to align with Ordri's gut. A sudden sleight of hand.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]