Samples

[Shade of Decay]

The Sith Academy on Bastion was a place that Tsisaar hadn't managed to visit for an oddly long time.

It was strange, how busy he'd gotten, with Gravlex Med, that one shuttle trip with Vereshin, Kruskan, Coruscant, and other places; he'd not had any time to come back to the place that had, in a sense, been 'home.' Of course, since that time he'd advanced beyond the position of an acolyte, earning himself his own residence and an income, courtesy of the government. So, not even the academy would count as 'home' anymore; still, it did feel somewhat right, in a way, to be walking back through the doors of the building.

Of course, he wasn't here to be nostalgic, as he had other plans entirely. At a quick pace, he passed through the courtyard, making his way to the medical ward. He'd booked an examination room for himself, after a short 'argument' with one of the lower overseers for the academy. Then, it had only been a matter of combing records to find the acolytes that might prove most useful to him.

One of them in particular had stood out to him, a survivor found on Mirial—albeit, not one from one of the pockets that had been protecting itself well, but they had been found roaming the undead-filled wastes. Not only surviving, but thriving. Their mental state didn't seem entirely intact—they had no memory of his own name, spoken communication was difficult—but that was merely a stumbling block.

So, after he made his way into the examination room he had chosen, he glanced down again at the file he had on this acolyte. "Acolyte #0666," he muttered, looking over the file. "What an odd number designation. Fortuitous, perhaps." Though whether the superstition attached to the number would prove to make for good or bad luck, Tsisaar couldn't say. Still, a messenger droid had been sent out to grab the acolyte and bring them along to him; for now, all Tsisaar had to do was wait.

[member="The Nameless One"]

 

[The Nameless One]

This was no ordinary acolyte.

Having been brought in from the wasteland that had been bluntly dubbed the 'Dead City', the Nameless One was subject to the big blinding lights and the constant drone of noise that was Bastion. Civilization was something that had been a concept that had faded away from the survivor's memory, only to be brought back to the forefront kicking and screaming-- One would think that having the honor of a well-established and connected Sith coming along and rescuing a poor stranded soul from an existence that at its core had sunken to the rock bottom would provide a sense of admiration and self-worth but this survivor was different; charisma and society were ideals and tools that had been thrown out of the window as the dire straights set in, favoring eating over talking, killing over helping; whatever the Survivor had to do to ensure that they saw the sun fall and rise again, nothing was off the table in terms of viable tactics. Yet, now they were free from that existence, free from the possibility that they would stumble and fall in the midst of a horde of shambling corpses and becoming prey to their ravenous teeth. Like a wild animal, they had been placed within civilized society, full of words and practices and cultures and... Well, most of it was lost on the feral shell of what was once a person. The Sith Academy was a sight that the Survivor had never seen before but whilst many would comment on the architecture or the strong pull upon the Dark Side they could feel, the Nameless One was focused on something far more important.

The occasional squeak of a rat, the ample amounts of meat that walked about their daily lives-- They had clearly hit jackpot.

Before anyone could really have any grip on the feral being, they were off-- Prowling the floors for any signs of vermin that were uninvited guests, ducking and weaving through the acolytes and Lords alike as the new untamed house cat began to do their unofficial job-- It most likely garnered some dirty looks or horrified stares as this mortal coil wove themselves into the hard to reach places, diving like a bird of pray and catching the living runners within hands or under feet. A mask shifted just slightly and a moment later the vermin was set upon by feral and sharp teeth. All behind the scenes, their background was being created, their regimen to bring them back to society being formulated and structured; a new Acolyte within the database-- Number Zero-Six-Six-Six; to some that very number would raise red flags or create a sense of foreboding. Worry was not for the Survivor, however, the Nameless One's priorities were primitive in comparison; food, shelter, enemies, traps, water, sleep-- To have ambitions and dreams was an aspect of humanity that had been long since removed, survival was placed above all else. Whatever stood in their way was either killed or eaten.

Much like the rats they now consumed in the dark corners of the Academy.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

"Sir, the acolyte refused to respond to their designation or any attempt to make them come," reported the messenger droid that Tsisaar had sent out earlier. He'd been waiting in the examination room for some time, growing more and more annoyed with every minute that passed. "Oh-Six-Sixty-Six is currently in the west wing, gorging themselves on a rat that they caught." Even the droid couldn't manage to keep the disgust out of its tone, and droids weren't even supposed to care. Tsisaar pursed his lips, tendrils twitching irritably. He was hoping to have an easy discussion and a productive meeting, not a hunt through the temple. Unfortunately, his hopes were rarely ever met.

He stood quickly, making the messenger droid step backwards in momentary fright. "You're dismissed," he growled at the droid, which quickly left the room, heading for the east wing. Good. Stay out of my way. With the Force swirling about him like a storm cloud, whipped into a frenzy by the interaction between his displeasure at having to find the acolyte himself and his declining mental state, Tsisaar left the room as well. It didn't take him long to pick up on the scent of the being he wanted to find—whether that was their 'scent' through the Force or how they actually smelled, Tsisaar couldn't say—and he quickly began moving in that direction.

As he walked, most of the acolytes, guards, and other beings within the academy moved out of his way. Those few who were too unfortunately stupid to do so found themselves slammed into the walls on either side, slumping down to the floor in a daze; others were driven out of the way when Tsisaar's gaze brought out the demons that lived within their psyche, leaving them paralyzed in fear and easily pushed aside. None would be permanently damaged, though they'd all do well to take to heart the lesson they had just learned. When one of your betters is coming through, stay out of their way.

Not everybody would be as merciful towards the implied disrespect as Tsisaar.

It didn't take him particularly long to find the person he wanted, feasting on the corpse of another rat. This one seemed to be somewhat fresh; and, as Tsisaar quickly noticed, the stench was just as much physical as metaphysical. Huleppi coiling in on themselves in disgust, Tsisaar stretched out a hand; a bolt of energy stretched out from it, ripping the half-eaten carcass out of the acolyte's hands and throwing it halfway down the hall. After a moment, the now-smoldering corpse burst into flame from the amount of energy that had been poured into it, and Tsisaar fixed his gaze back on the one who had been eating.

"I don't like being left waiting, Oh-Six-Sixty-Six."

[member="The Nameless One"]

 

[The Nameless One]

That was a mistake.

The blissful and ignorant existence of the Survivor had been one that had been attempted to be interrupted once-- A messenger droid had stood next to the feasting feral, calling them to come along by a designation that it didn't really understand. Words went in one ear and out the other with this Acolyte, so it seemed, yet could one really blame them? There was much to adapt to, much for them to learn and study upon; yet before proper academics could even start, the groundwork had to be laid, the most basic civilized practices established. Meals had been found and they would be savored for as in abundance they were, such boons were not to be taken for granted. The droid that had done its best to try and draw the feral away from their meal eventually wandered off, allowing the Nameless One to focus entirely upon the taste and sustenance that they were obtaining from the vermin that their teeth so ravenously sunk into and tore away from their squirming forms. It was a messy business, there was no doubt about it, any sense of table manners or care when it came to one's presentation when eating had been lost very early on to their existence and replaced by a messy style that sent blood and tufts of fur falling to the floor, a mess that someone would no doubt have to clean up after the survivor as they carried on upon their nomadic search and devour mission, one shady spot of the Academy to the next.

Yet that was to be interrupted-- A summon had not been answered, eventually the waft of malice fell upon the nose yet their bubble of ignorance remained intact-- That was until the rat was pulled from their hands and thrown down the hall, erupting into flames. Words followed, stern words but the survivor did not listen-- Someone had stolen their food, a price was to be paid.

The Nameless One's attention was turned from ignorant bliss to venomous hostility almost instantly. The mask that had been half raised to allow access to their mouth showed a lowered facial structure caked in dried and fresh blood alike, feral teeth flashing as the survivor growled and started making various screeching noises that one would expect from a tribal living deep within the swamps of Felucia yet here it was, occurring deep within the heartland of the Sith Empire but that was not all. This screech of anger and fury, radiating a deeply buried presence of the Dark Side within the feral acolyte that ignited like a warhead. Before the Sith Knight could blink, the feral child was running towards them, blade at the ready to chop the fool limb from limb and to be added atop the stockpile of food for repayment for his transgressions. There was no sense of mercy, no thought that could be sensed that the survivor knew what it was doing was wrong yet neither did they show any signs of what to expect in retaliation for their charge-- Something was clear, as feisty and bloodthirsty this one was, they hadn't the first clue in fighting a force user.

And they were likely running straight into a trap.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

The screech was somewhat unexpected.

Tsisaar winced, the tips of his ears twitching. He didn't need to have sounds like that forced upon him; still, he had more pertinent matters to attend to than being annoyed by high-pitched noises.

He held out a hand, and the snarling acolyte's forward movement ceased. A slight shimmer seemed to exist in the air around the now-frozen savage, where the energies of the Force mingled with and repelled the mundane physical concepts such as movement and entropy. "Tsk, tsk," Tsisaar chided, before starting to pace around the acolyte. His eyes darted back and forth, observing the wretch's body like a doctor might a patient, or even like a collector might a piece of art.

Or like a buyer might a slave.

"Well proportioned," he muttered, completing one circle. "A little emaciated, but that's only to be expected. Posture could use some work, although I imagine that's only due to your previous living conditions, rather than any inherent disability." He came around again, examining what he could of the acolyte's face; shortly, he snorted at the unclean state of it. "Don't worry," he started quietly, turning away to glance at other aspects of the body. "You can have your rats again, soon enough." He stepped back slightly, peering curiously at the creature that was stopped, motionless, before him.

"First, though, I suppose I'll have to satisfy some other concerns." He took a breath, gathering in his power. "Shall we see what I find on the inside?" The energies that held the acolyte motionless were released, only for a new assault to come: With little concern as to the brute nature of the attack, Tsisaar fashioned his thoughts into a spear, entirely focused on the mind of the cretin he was studying.

Without any further consideration, that spear was hurled over the gap, plunging headlong for the conscience of the nameless acolyte.

[member="The Nameless One"]

 

[The Nameless One]

The figure was far from still and silent.

The Sith Knight, of course, stood leaps and bounds ahead of the survivor that had sought vengeance upon that of which had taken their item of sustenance, a life for the vermin-- Nay, the food that rightfully belonged to her, now nothing but a burning waste that had been sent down the hallway some. It was clear that the masked survivor was angry, the bellowing howl and charge that followed would have no doubt caught many off guard back within their home territories but now? Now Zero-Six-Six-Six was among sentient beings with capabilities that far outmatched their own-- Resulting in what would have been a slaughter turned into a invisible cage that kept the survivor locked in place with nothing but magic holding her limbs from moving. That was not to say that the restrained feral did not try, nonetheless, arms and legs constantly struggling against the shimmering forces that bound them, a series of venomous snarls and sneers escaping from their bloody mouth, unconcealed by the adjustment of the mask to allow themselves the feast they were owed yet the rest of the survivor's features remained mysterious behind the dirty tribal mask. As the Sith Knight performed their examination, walking around the feral, Zero-Six-Six-Six's head seemed to try and follow, jagged teeth flashing and snapping shut, hoping that their enemy would somehow fall victim to the row of teeth that sought fresh meat, even if that desire would never come to pass.

All they could do was watch and snarl... Until the restraints suddenly let loose.

This act of freedom, of course, was short lived-- Finding themselves able to move again, the split-second of confusion was suddenly met with intense hatred and anger once more, yet another bloodcurdling screech came as the survivor sought to fall upon the Knight and rip them limb from limb, gaining their fill of fresh meat that, compared to the rodents that she had hunted and consumed, would have been a luxury meal. All of this would have no doubt ended poorly for the survivor if they had even attempted such an act, even if they did not know it themselves yet Zero-Six-Six-Six was never given the chance. It was within an instant that they felt their mind suddenly pierced by a mental spear, breaching that swirling tornado of hatred and instincts to which they had once called mental defense and willpower in order to survive and reaching deep within their... Her psyche. The Knight had entered a shattered realm of a mind; a place as desolate and apocalyptic as the Dead City in which the feral had been found and retrieved from. Memories snuffed, concepts ripped apart and buried as what made this woman a human being had been replaced by a creature that sought only survival amid the ruins; powered by a primal rage and hunger with the Force nurtured and developed within her to mimic her own sense of identity. It was power yet untamed, one could even call it dangerous.

Tsisaar had found a lawless land within her head, a frontier just waiting to be brought to order-- A monumental task indeed.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

A-ha, female.

He'd had some suspicions, but between the subject's emaciated state and the somewhat concealing clothing they wore, Tsisaar hadn't been sure as to the sex of the person before him. A quick delve into her mind had changed that, however, half-recognizable fragments of memories and feelings identifying at least that basal aspect of the acolyte's person. Try as he might, however, his digging couldn't reveal a name, or anything like that, from the girl. He wasn't even sure she could even still understand Basic.

We'll have to change that.

Drain Knowledge was an interesting power. After digging oneself into the mind of their subject, they could ferret out nearly any information they wanted, given enough skill—or the raw power to break down any and all mental defenses. Then it was merely a matter of pulling out the knowledge, delicately or roughly, and going about one's day. Depending on the method used, the target might simply go on about their day as well, or they might have a headache, or they might be rendered permanently catatonic.

What many did not consider, however, was that the reverse was also possible. From his readings, Tsisaar had ascertained that Darth Revan had been fairly adept with the ability; his facility with languages came from his ability to copy the knowledge into his own mind of any language he wished, and he'd been very adept at forcing the knowledge of Basic into other minds as well. That was how he'd been able to ensure that the remnants of the Rakata on Lehon could understand him when he spoke. He'd likely done similar with numerous others throughout his travels.

Tsisaar would be doing the exact same thing. He dug a little deeper through the girl's psyche, searching for an empty space; he eventually found one that was suitabe, behind a memory of a particularly well-sized rabbit that had kept the savage satisfied for nearly an entire day. Then he drew forth his own knowledge of the Basic language, painstakingly copying over everything that he could think to do so into the girl's brain. He wasn't sure how long it took—outwardly, it likely didn't take any time at all—but it was quite a laborious task from within their minds.

Once finished, he withdrew quickly, finding himself left with a splitting headache. "Every time I practice, every time it hurts me as well," he muttered under his breath. It wasn't nearly as bad as when he used his Shard of Nil, though it certainly wasn't very helpful. He'd have to hasten his efforts to construct a new vessel. Shaking his head for a moment, he looked back over at Zero-Six-Sixty-Six, wary at the possibility of another attack.

"Speak, girl," he commanded. "You're no longer an animal living on the wild frontier, so I expect you to use a civilized language from now on."

[member="The Nameless One"]

 

[The Nameless One]

It was like having one's eyes opened after a coma.

It was as if her mind was expanding as the Knight placed in the memories and knowledge needed to communicate and understand even the most basic of language used across the Galaxy. What had once been nothing more than noises to her suddenly had structure, connotations, implications and yet, it had all taken as long as it would take one to simply blink several times. Despite the simplicity and amazing capabilities of the Knight, it surely wasn't a painless process, having that depth of information filled into one's mind so quickly, one could even have gone as far to call it agony which left Zero-Six-Six-Six growling and hissing in pain as the headache grew more and more intense until the process had finally been complete. Once the mental spear had been tugged out of her fractured psyche, she stumbled and remained out of touch for several moments as her brain attempted to cope with the sudden enlightenment that had filled the otherwise empty space of her mind. Words were... No longer just sounds, they were language, emotion, expression-- It would no doubt take time to adjust and adapt herself to this newfound knowledge.

Yet even if she did know it all, did not mean that she wished to use it. Rather than be thankful for her gift, the pain was focused on more than the utility provided. The feral was furious and the murderous intent burned through her mask.

Zero-Six-Six-Six did indeed remain silent for a few moments as her head looked up towards the Knight, perhaps a sign that she had some level of sentience about her following the transfer of Basic but that was not to last. The still feral mind had not forgiven the Knight for his slight nor did she really have the understanding to allow such waters to be placed under the bridge. Instead, a howl came from her bloodied mouth, one of anguish and hatred as she lunged for the Knight once more; snarling, teeth longing to bite into flesh to eat or to simply kill. Knowledge was one thing, to learn how to adopt and integrate such into one's mannerisms was a whole monumental task of itself. No doubt the survivor would find herself restrained from her victim once again, held in place... Or perhaps he would fight back. She didn't know, only that the 'magic' that ebbed through her body was bubbling beneath the surface, ready to be used to help with her fight. She needed only a window of opportunity.

And hell would be let loose.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

"How unfortunate," Tsisaar muttered, before the girl lunged at him again. Still, she was no Sith, not yet; he shouldn't expect her to understand the value of patience, over immediate retribution. Let alone being willing to speak. From within the folds of his robe, his lightsaber came into his hand, faster than the blink of an eye; just as fast he stepped to the side, letting the feral acolyte go on past him. Turning on the ball of his foot, he came back around, the savage human once more in his field of view.

With a snap-hiss, his lightsaber activated, its pale red glow overpowering the dim lights of the corridor. "I have been exceedingly patient with you, child," he growled, holding the glowing blade in front of him. "And I know you can understand me now, so don't try to pretend that you don't." He stepped forwards, shortening the distance between them. "Unfortunately, you seem wilfully intent, now, on acting the part of a savage beast, and if that means I have to beat you like one, so be it." Another step, and the distance grew shorter still.

"So let me make you an offer. You give me your compliance, or I will take your arms. Either way, you'll learn the values of obedience and patience, if you intend to survive long amongst the Sith." He stopped, lightsaber still held at the ready while he fixed #0666 in his focus. "Which shall it be?"

[member="The Nameless One"]

 

[The Nameless One]

If nothing else, the enlightenment had brought about a sense of perspective.

Having simply flown straight past the Knight after he performed the act of stepping out of the way from her lunge, the feral had since skidded across the floor and came to a gradual stop. Zero-Six-Six was furious that her target had once again escaped her grasp, her blood-covered face twisting sharply to look over her shoulder as she remained on all fours indeed like some sort of predator, although her body soon maneuvered and turned to face the Sith once more. Each missed opportunity to sink her jagged teeth into the one that had caused her obstructions and discomfort only sought to add more fuel to the already raging inferno within, the force she knew very little about seething beneath her ghastly skin nay, gnawing to be let loose upon that of which she considered an enemy. Zero-Six-Six-Six watched him carefully, taking note of everything he said or did when it came to his approach; the igniting of his sword, the steps forward to close the gap... Every word he said seeming to fall upon ears that, whilst almost entirely arrogant and stubborn to not take heed, made the survivor simply sit within her position, listening.

If she had retained anything from her descent into primal instincts and the desire to survive amid the sea of the walking dead and smoking rubble, it was the keen sense of self-preservation.

By all rights, Zero-Six-Six-Six should have reared her body and sent herself charging towards that of which had robbed her of her prize, weapon or not, her brain was no doubt awash with righteous fury and hostility to the one that had brought about these drastic changes to her psychological state yet, it was her desires within a material sense that drove her convictions. She wished to watch the Knight before her burn, just like he had done to her valued meal and then sought to eat what remained yet-- As she stood there, growling and spitting venomous anger from her bloodied mouth, the crackling of the sword that rippled with energy sparked a memory of witnessing such a tool of destruction before; wisps of recollection from the Dead City, watching those that had come to 'rescue' her from her kingdom and how they had cut through the hordes of the undead as if they were mere ants beneath their boot, the swift act of execution brought about by a pair of glowing blades of death. It was this memory that slowly began to turn the clogs in the newly formed logical processing of the feral's mind, the realization dawning upon her that, despite her best efforts, the Knight's threat was more than just harsh words-- The possibility of her arms being severed from her body were looking more and more like a certainty on her current course.

A mild growl left her throat, flashing her teeth akin to an animal presenting a show of force to protect their territory yet she did not lunge or try to attack though eventually she spoke, a singular word more so croaked and hissed from a mouth that slowly had to recall how to physically sound the words placed into her head, eventually resulting in her answer; "...Fh-ine."

Fine.

At least he had his answer.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

The lightsaber deactivated just as quickly as it had been activated.

However, Tsisaar still kept it in hand; he wouldn't let his guard down so quickly. Despite that, though, he allowed himself a smirk beneath his facial tendrils. In this test of wills, he had won; soon he would have what he wished. "Good," he cooed, pleased with the success. "We will go to the medical ward. You will walk ahead of me, and if you don't know where exactly to go, I'll give you directions. You are advised to follow them." He gestured down the hall, behind where the savage acolyte was looking at him.

Then, he twisted his lightsaber hilt around in his grasp.

"However, you would also be well advised not to try anything else, unless you want to feel how much one of these can hurt." He allowed himself another thin, grim smirk. "Although, you'll likely be experiencing that soon enough, anyways, now that your training can begin in earnest." The unseen smirk fell away again, and his tone resumed its peremptory slant again. "Now, follow the hallway until the third hallway that branches off the right. Take it, then immediately turn left at the next point of intersection, and after that, your nose should be able to lead you to the medical ward." The stench of disinfectant was strong enough that he doubted that even a normal human would miss it, let alone a feral one.

​

​

Relatively quickly, the pair found themselves in the medical ward, and Tsisaar had called over some medical droids. "Now, you are going to undergo a medical examination," he informed the acolyte. "I'm sure you've done this before, but it's happening again, and this time, the droids will be conducting it according to my specifications." One of the droids, a three-armed, repulsor-powered unit, floated over, multiple eyes scanning the feral human with cold, mechanical interest. On one of the arms, a needle glinted dangerously in the light.

He glanced at it for a moment, before returning his attention to the girl. "Once this is done, Zero-Six-Sixty-Six, I'll give you access to a treat I imagine you haven't been faced with yet." He withdrew from his robe a sheet of flimsiplast, on which he'd written down a short security code. "Deeper within this academy, there's a training room where we sometimes allow students. Within it, kept in cages, are various different things...some animals, some prisoners, and even failed acolytes, too weak to succeed at their trials." He set the flimsi on a table next to him. "If this goes by without trouble, you'll have access there to unleash, fight, and if you really want to, consume anything down there...assuming it doesn't manage to kill you first."

He glanced from the acolyte back to the medical droids.

"Begin," he commanded, and each one menacingly approached the girl.

[member="The Nameless One"]