In the Darkness there is Truth
@Mirien Valdier
"Your life as you knew it is over. Citizen Naamah Aesham no longer exists. You are a ghost, an instrument of the Imperial will. This is where you will train. If you succeed your purpose will be to keep the Empire safe from its enemies," the man in black robes spoke, standing tall before her in the white sterile room. A camera hovered above them, taking the entire scene in.
"Dramatic. Do you learn those speeches by heart and practice in front of a mirror?" the girl asked mockingly, though she was strapped to a chair. She tried to struggle and thrash, but it was futile. A collar hung around her neck. She did not understand how it worked, but somehow it seemed to...leech the power out of her. The one that had made her feel so strong, but now she was caged and weak. She was not in the human form she normally assumed, with all the drugs in her system and the nervousness she was trying so hard to contain, she appeared as the reptilian she was. It made her feel exposed.
The dark man showed no reaction, not even amusement, his gaze remained impassive, his cold eyes seemed to bore into her. "What if I fail? Not that I would because I am amazing. Is there a retirement plan? Dropout programme?" she pressed on.
"If you fail, you die. Your powers make you a weapon. A weapon that does not function gets discarded," the Inquisitor said flatly. "Forget your past, forget your family. The Inquisition is the only home you will have."
Naamah attempted to shrug, straining against the bonds. It was difficult to focus, she tried to stretch out and grasp the power, but it eluded her. "Motivating. I have no family. Don't need one. So where's the big boss? My new Daddy or Mummy?"
At that she suddenly felt an iron grip tighten around her throat and she gasped for breath as the flow of oxygen was cut off. She felt pain, great pain as she failed to breathe before finally the assault ceased and she gasped. "What the hell was that?"
"You will learn discipline and comprehend your place in things. The useless, the undisciplined and the weak are weeded out and destroyed. The Force is a tool to serve," the Inquisitor spoke imperiously.
"Fine, fine. Can't even take a joke. Are we the ones really running the show then? Tricking mundanes. I always knew I was special."
She had barely spoken these words when the sensation of pain overcome her as her throat was held in another grip, more iron and merciless than before, as if it were being crushed. She was overcome by waves of nausea, feeling sick. "You do not yet comprehend your place in things. We are not Sith or Jedi, we exist to serve. But you will learn and be reforged." At that the Inquisitor turned, his heavy boots resounding on the cold floor.
"Hey, am I going to get lunch? Cup of tea. You know how important tea time is. Stimcaf?" Naamah called after him, but without sparing her a glance he stepped through the heavy durasteel door, opened by a wave of his hand, and it slammed shut behind him.
"Your life as you knew it is over. Citizen Naamah Aesham no longer exists. You are a ghost, an instrument of the Imperial will. This is where you will train. If you succeed your purpose will be to keep the Empire safe from its enemies," the man in black robes spoke, standing tall before her in the white sterile room. A camera hovered above them, taking the entire scene in.
"Dramatic. Do you learn those speeches by heart and practice in front of a mirror?" the girl asked mockingly, though she was strapped to a chair. She tried to struggle and thrash, but it was futile. A collar hung around her neck. She did not understand how it worked, but somehow it seemed to...leech the power out of her. The one that had made her feel so strong, but now she was caged and weak. She was not in the human form she normally assumed, with all the drugs in her system and the nervousness she was trying so hard to contain, she appeared as the reptilian she was. It made her feel exposed.
The dark man showed no reaction, not even amusement, his gaze remained impassive, his cold eyes seemed to bore into her. "What if I fail? Not that I would because I am amazing. Is there a retirement plan? Dropout programme?" she pressed on.
"If you fail, you die. Your powers make you a weapon. A weapon that does not function gets discarded," the Inquisitor said flatly. "Forget your past, forget your family. The Inquisition is the only home you will have."
Naamah attempted to shrug, straining against the bonds. It was difficult to focus, she tried to stretch out and grasp the power, but it eluded her. "Motivating. I have no family. Don't need one. So where's the big boss? My new Daddy or Mummy?"
At that she suddenly felt an iron grip tighten around her throat and she gasped for breath as the flow of oxygen was cut off. She felt pain, great pain as she failed to breathe before finally the assault ceased and she gasped. "What the hell was that?"
"You will learn discipline and comprehend your place in things. The useless, the undisciplined and the weak are weeded out and destroyed. The Force is a tool to serve," the Inquisitor spoke imperiously.
"Fine, fine. Can't even take a joke. Are we the ones really running the show then? Tricking mundanes. I always knew I was special."
She had barely spoken these words when the sensation of pain overcome her as her throat was held in another grip, more iron and merciless than before, as if it were being crushed. She was overcome by waves of nausea, feeling sick. "You do not yet comprehend your place in things. We are not Sith or Jedi, we exist to serve. But you will learn and be reforged." At that the Inquisitor turned, his heavy boots resounding on the cold floor.
"Hey, am I going to get lunch? Cup of tea. You know how important tea time is. Stimcaf?" Naamah called after him, but without sparing her a glance he stepped through the heavy durasteel door, opened by a wave of his hand, and it slammed shut behind him.