Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Blonde and the Vong

The assault to strip her and put her in some jelly like clothing was met with a fight, but once she was warned about needing to stay still, she cooperated. It didn’t take as long as she had expected, it seemed the two and whatever else help they were getting were pretty skilled at stripping humans. In her frustration through, a fist swung and took out the jaw of a slave – or what she assumed to be a slave. The first bite into her collarbone was something the Crucitorn masked for her. Spencer had to fight the urge to see the other human that was for some reason donating blood to her.

Spencer kept her eyes on the one that was talking to her about science, the creature reminded her of Circe and her desire to learn what made Spencer tick. A brief memory of a blood test and learning her weakness flashed in the back of her mind, but she remained in the present. The worm or whatever it was that had the tendrils caught her full attention and whatever squirming Spencer had been doing ceased to exist. Looking down, she watched as things appeared to help the woman (she assumed the gender not really recognizing much) cut into her. The Crucitorn could only mask so much pain and while the flesh was being slowly peeled away along with her muscle to expose the bone and the delicate nerve endings, Spencer bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Her tongue pecked against the wound on the inside of her lip trying to stop the iron taste from filling her mouth.

Whatever the worm was quickly latched onto her nerve endings and the air in the cell trickled against the exposed flesh and once again Spencer choked down a groan of pain. She had to drop the Crucitorn if she wanted to try and close up what was being done. Her mind needed to focus on mending instead of masking the pain that was now shooting up and down her forearm. Why was she all of a sudden a science experiment? Was this how the Vong treated their prisoners of war? Thousands of questions filled her mind as her eyes darted from each corner of the room. Settling for a moment on Reverance she etched his face in the back of her mind, determined to make him pay for this she assumed this was his doing. The other one, the one that brought her here seemed more interested somewhere else – which relieved Spencer. It was one less person she had to take out to escape.

Her mind worked over and over again possible escape plans, she needed to get out and stop hoping to the Force that Ashin would find her. Spencer needed to do this on her own, she got herself stuck here and that was only her own fault for being ill-prepared for battle. Jun’s voice broke her concentration as she looked towards her still holding down her pain. The scientist explained the experiment – Spencer didn’t really care to be the test subject, but she nodded and decided to comply. Her first instinct still remembering what happened to Vrag’s armor when she used lightning and how she was able to fend off the creature that tried to take out her leg. Drawing on the dark side that Reverance so freely offered, sparks collected in her unsliced hand. It took a bit longer to pull the Force around her – she didn’t understand why and figured it was the force dead nature of the building and the beings around her. Her first target to help this scientist find data on the Force was the quiet one that had held her down. Didn’t seem like much, but once the lightning had gathered she shot it all without restraint towards Khallesh. As soon as the lightning had shot out from her body, something burned throughout her entire being. Without the Crucitorn being her main focus, her body couldn’t suppress this pain. A cold chill took over her frame as she felt thousands of pins and needles begin to prick relentlessly against her skin. Finally, she cried out quickly in pain. It subsided after a few minutes and she attempted to center her mind back to the Crucitorn until she could figure out what that after effect of the lightning was about. Her eyes looked back towards Khallash to see what the Vong had done.

[member="Vrag"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Khallesh"]
 
Vrag said:
"[How's the abdomen, Khallesh?]"
"[Healed well, left a good scar,]" Khallesh grunted, there was a deferential nod to [member="Vrag"]. It was a gesture rarely seen in Khallesh' limited repertoire of body language. For Khallesh the experience on Rakata Prime would always be fresh in her mind, to be relived when she had a quiet moment to herself along with her other greatest trials.

"[To a female Warrior, that's essentially like discussing good jewellery or a low cut top,]" Jun decided to translate to Revenance. Khallesh simply glowered. "[Yorik-Kul, how interesting. If it hasn't long taken we could measure its effects over time.]"

Here monologue was interrupted as a series of bright sparks bathed them in blue light. It was shortly followed by a thunderous crack and flash of light that blinded all. Khallesh was sent flying away from the prisoner.

[SIZE=14.6667px]Smoke rose from the quivering huntress. One hand was splayed on the floor of the cell whilst the other trembled in the air. In one jerking motion her fighting claw erupted from the back of that hand involuntarily. The chitinous blade sliced through Khallesh’ skin and came out slick with her own obsidian blood. The tail of her arachnostaff flicked up and down in annoyance. The pain was exquisite. It was a cacophony of agony as every nerve ending tried to be heard above the others. Khallesh closed her ears and tried to silence the discordant song. She so despised lightning. The Sith Lords of old had summoned lightning to stem whole tides of Yuuzhan Vong warriors in battle, it was quite effective on them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The shaking slowly subsided and she pushed herself back onto her haunches. From under the rim of her helm gold eyes framed by swirling tattoos fixed on Spencer. Her lips contorted into a snarl and she rose to her feet in one lithe motion.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Khallesh,[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]” warned Jun. Somehow the whily shaper had completely avoided the lightning. Apparently she could move quite quickly when necessary. Khallesh filed that knowledge away and held up one open hand to assuage her concerns. She held up her right forearm to the [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Jeedai[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] and let her watch as the [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]fighting claw [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]slowly slid back into the wound on the back of her hand. One finger trailed down the edge of the blade as it retracted, leaving the tip wet with her own blood. Removing her helm, she gently daubed the blood across her cheek bones. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]First blood.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Once, long ago, a species known as the Noghri had been the most revered assassins to those who knew of their existence. They moved with unparalleled speed and grace and carried out their orders without pause or regret. Yet when they had met the Yuuzhan Vong in battle they had come a distant second every time. And so when Khallesh, renowned for her grace and speed as a warrior of Domain Val, crossed the gap between them, it was done in a heartbeat. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Her right hand came back and up over her shoulder and swept forwards. It was the kind of gentle admonishment a warrior would mete out on a child, but Khallesh had enough control to be mindful of the Shaper’s words and deigned only to discombobulate the source of her pain. It connected with Spencer’s cheek with a resounding crack, whipping her head to the side. Perhaps a little too much anger had bled into the strike, but at least she hadn’t broken the delicate human’s neck. Vrag would [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]not [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]have been pleased.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Placing both hands on Spencer’s shoulders she leaned in ever so closely as if initiating a lover’s embrace. Her lips brushed against the [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Jeedai’s [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]earlobe as she whispered just for her, sullying her tongue with the infidel’s language.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Try that again and I take off your hands.” There was no malice or threat in the tone words were delivered in. They were spoken plainly to underline the truth they held.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Blue lips curled back revealing her teeth and Khallesh suddenly bit down. Her mouth was flooded with the hot, metallic taste of infidel blood. Neck muscles flexed and she yanked away. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]"Khallesh Val!" the shaper warned sternly. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The Commander stepped back and spat a mouthful of blood to the floor. For a moment she held Spencer's gaze, looking to the mandgled ear that was still attached to her head - barely. She turned away looking to the Shaper for her next direction, one hand wiped the blood from her chin. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Jun was already looking over the biot affixed to the Jeedai's arms. The myriad of colourful patterns clearly held meaning to her, but she appeared disappointed. "[Hold her head forwards please Khallesh. I'm going to add another to the base of her neck to try and get a measurement closer to the brain,]"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px][member="Vrag"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]@Revenonce[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px][member="Spencer Jacobs"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px][member="Ashin Varanin"][/SIZE]
 

Vrag

The Second Seal, broken.
Though there was a lavish apartment somewhere up in the richest districts of Coruscant that Vrag could tenuously call 'home', her heart – or what was left of it, anyway – belonged to the cruel planet all around her. Its pulsing, throbbing core, the shift and ebb of life as it fought for survival in the truest sense. There were no crutches here, no helping hands or altruistic assistance given to those who did not earn it. Every being treading the surface of this planet was one that had earned that right to breathe the heavy air.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Vrag could feel her skin crawling with a distinctly unpleasant foreboding, like a storm brewing a mountain over. The fingers of her right hand brushed up against the wall of the grashal as she navigated the maze of organic corridors with a deceptive lightness to her step, and flickering images of the neural network of the planet flashed before her eyes. Wear a cognition hood enough, and you started seeing the world through its pulsing green tint even when wide awake.

It was disquieting to say the least, but not nearly as much as the foreign objects sticking out of the ordinary calamity and chaos like a sore thumb. Vrag scowled behind the helmet, digging her claws deeper into the fleshy wall. Something was… wrong.

A guttural sound escaped her throat, and it took her a moment to realize it wasn't her own. Pulling back from Selvaris, the Supreme commander focused back on her immediate surroundings. More specifically, on the hungry growls resonating through the skull.

"Oh, Lammie," she let out an exasperated sigh and stalked off back to the cages, intent on feeding the amphistaff a rare treat. Some tasty Jeedai flesh before it got drained of all the Force would be an exotic dish indeed, especially after the creature had already acquired a taste for it during their duel on Balmorra.

The scene she returned to most certainly wasn't the one she'd left, however. Tendrils of smoke were snaking across [member="Khallesh"]'s skin, and the glare she was sending [member="Spencer Jacobs"]' way was positively murderous. Which, all in all, wasn't very shocking for a Huntress of the Warrior caste, but Vrag had expected the Commander would be capable of behaving herself.

Clearly she'd been wrong.

Blood on her mouth, blood on the Jedi's face; wasn't difficult to piece two and two together. Her icy gaze honed in on the Warrior, and the Hand pursed her lips into a thin line.

"Commander," she spoke, a single word imbued with as much leashed anger as she could possibly cram into those three syllables. "[If anyone gets to kill her, it will be me.]"

"[Now hold that arm.]"

With that, Vrag snapped another order at the Dhaladii, and without much ado, the Vonduun began to part and climb off, clambering over her shoulder and down the curve of her left arm, settling down in her waiting palm.

"Lammie would like a snack, Spencer," the firrerreo spoke with an impassive expression gracing her features, closing what little distance separated her from the cell.

"You remember Lammie, don't you?" A hint of a smile, then, but it never reached her cold blue eyes.

With a hand on her lightsaber, Vrag approached the Jedi and bared her teeth in a threatening sneer, showing off rows of sharp fangs much like the amphistaff coiling out of the skull and towards the inviting bits of flesh hanging off the blonde's wrist.

"Don't make me tear you a new one over those pinpricks," she husked, gaze boring into the pair of bitemarks on her red-stained neck.

"I won't be so generous."


[member="Ashin Varanin"] | [member="Reverance"]
 
[member="Vrag"]

When Khallesh spoke, it was once more in Galactic Basic. The words were for both [member="Vrag"] and [member="Spencer Jacobs"]. "Of course Supreme Commander," she said with a deferential nod that kept her eyes on the human at all times. Her fist slammed against her chest to signify acceptance of the order. "I would never think to steal a kill earned by another, that was merely...discouragement." she said. To do such a thing would have crossed a line and left it far behind. For such an offence to another's honour she would have had to offer up her couffee, lift her chin and expose her own throat for punishment. Still, the curt command prompted her to swallow her anger deep down. What was about to come would surely satiate her blood lust anyway.

There was a pause, during which she hoped she did not seem disrespectful. Her left hand would not open. The charge had grounded itself through that arm. Slowly, she forced those fingers to unfurl, but they fought her at every step. In the end, it was just pain. A sensation to be embraced, not feared. As she grasped the arm, the amphistaff closed the distance and Jun carried on working on the nape of Spencer's neck. Bright red blood trickled to the floor.

Wait, did she call her amphistaff "Lammie?"

[member="Ashin Varanin"]
@Reverednancy
 
This wasn't his show. But it was a show nonetheless. The likes of which kept shifting and changing, beings vying for the painful attention of a singular bruised creature. "Spencer..." He said it, lifting his Voxyn finger to his lips. "Spencer Spencer..." he exhaled and smiled. "It really is a pretty name." He stated to no one in particular. He liked it, it was ambiguous yet defining. There were so few Spencers in the universe, he pictured Ashin screaming the name. Finding the ragtag of a wife left for dead, gripping to life with whatever these beings allowed her to retain. Threads and sinew at this point. All for what? The Galactic Republic and their dying breed? Was it worth it, Spencer? He thought so, but then again, he wasn't on the receiving end of a shaper, a commander, and a Supreme Commander.

Not that he would have minded. That prospect entertained him, envisioning himself in her position. He nodded shallowly, in agreement with himself and thoughtful. It was a good name. He wondered how long she could keep it. At what point would she no longer be Spencer? At what point did the Spencer that showed up on Selvaris differ so dramatically from the one that was left, that they were no longer the same creature. Merely the same carcass, slightly resembling what it once was. That interested him, a fragile threshold to cross where pain truly changes someone. Makes them new, better or worse, there would be something to look forward. A prospect for quantified transition, the tool of pain extracting what was left.

He chewed on his voxyn thumb nail, absentmindedly of the neuro toxin, and watched quietly.

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Ashin Varanin"] | [member="Spencer Jacobs"] | @Khalderesh
 
The smirk that had formed as she watched the vong smoke from the electrical charge was erased just as quickly as it had showed up. Her eyes watched as Khallesh do some sort of thing with her claw like weapon and then proceeded to wipe the blood on herself. Whatever these creatures were they were interesting and primitive - unlike the woman she fought against. Spencer didn’t say a word, she just stared and focused on what the odd warrior was doing. In an instant the distance was covered between them and Spencer came face to face with the Vong woman. Her eyes slightly wide taking in the form of the creature, there wasn’t much to take in especially after something made contact with her face hard. Her sight was thrown aside as she felt the whiplash in her neck as she spat blood from her now cut and split lip. Cursing under her breath, she spit out whatever blood lingered in her mouth. Closeness again occurred as she heard the woman speak a language she understood. A chill shot down her spine as she held her breath taking the words in.

Everything in this moment was happening so fast. Spencer couldn’t react quick enough and if she was capable of doing anything else she would have tried. Alas she was helpless and the fangs of Khallesh dug into her ear, the release of pressure of the skin stung deeply and the focus on the crucitorn continued. Spencer didn’t understand why the ability was faltering from time to time - usually she was able to withstand the amount of pain she was being dealt with ease. There was other things at work and Spencer questioned the surge of nerve pain she felt when she had used the lightning. A common factor was at work here and that factor was more invisible than anything. As before, Spencer found herself now with her head pushed forward and incisions being done on the back of her neck. Her uncut hand tensed balling into a fist as the feeling of the exposed nerves and upper vertebrate made her aware of nerves she never knew she had.

Groans and whimpers filled the cell as Spencer couldn’t fight it anymore. The Cruicitorn was failing and she could feel every attachment on her nerves. She kept the stomach ache at bay along with other ailments. Her focus shifted for a moment as she began to heal her lip and the pain in the back of her neck. The head wound would be next to follow as it was healed to stop the bleeding. With Jun still actively working on the back of her neck - she gave up trying to heal faster than the woman could cut. Hazel eyes looked down at her exposed wrist and began to once again heal that section of her body. She needed to make sure she didn’t bleed out even with the blood being provided to her by the poor chap of a meat bag. While she focused on her healing, footsteps were heard heavy around the corner. Only one person walked like that, well two. There were two people that walked like that, one brought hope to the girl while the other was the bringer of her death. Spencer hoped for the former.

Spencer closed her eyes hoping and praying that the footsteps belonged to Ashin. That’s who she needed right now, not because the dire need for a rescue, but for comfort for what was happening to her. Never in her life had she felt so alone and forgotten. To these creatures, the woman and the man that continued to repeat her name - she was just flesh and blood to be poked and prodded, studied. Another whimper escaped her now healed lip as she felt the weight of the scientist shaper against her neck. Through their force bond, Spencer cried out for Ashin unlike before when she would wait for the woman to come home from expeditions - no this time around the pull on the bond was fear. She was dying and she felt it. The realization was sudden, it would be the only explanation as to why her usually impenetrable Crucitorn was failing. A voice shook the Master from her thoughts, the best she could she looked up and saw a face she hadn’t seen since she was eighteen. At first, she assumed it was just her own imagination trying to comfort her in this desperate time, but words continued to come from the woman’s lips. They were heard, but not listened to. Spencer was more in awe as to the face that stared back her, the pale skin and the ice blue eyes. All of it forcing memories to be brought to the surface. Tears that had welled up in the corners of her eyes spilled over in one tear for each eye and a soft hopeful smile spread across her face. “Ashin!”

Hope faded from her face as she was greeted by the fanged grin of Vrag, this wasn’t part of her memory, this wasn’t what she had hoped for. Glancing down she felt the weight of the huntress against her exposed arm and the pain from the amphistaff pulling at the dangling flesh that was slowly dying on her arm. Something didn’t make sense to her and she glanced back up the best she could, confused hazel eyes meeting the blue she had stared into so many times before. Her mouth dry, she licked her bottom lip trying to work everything out in her fogged mind. She wanted it to be her so terribly, instead of denying herself the sight - she allowed it to happen. Spencer winced as she turned her healing attention towards the back of her neck, Why, she thought silently to herself. The why could have meant many things, mostly Spencer was curious as to why Vrag was back beyond feeding her pet and why she looked so much like Ashin Varanin’s “original” face.

[member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Khallesh"] [member="Vrag"]
 

Vrag

The Second Seal, broken.
Vrag very nearly took a step back from the forceful exclamation, and her eyes widened in a rare display of confusion. Of all the things she was expecting from the Jedi, tears and a relieved smile were not on the list.

Her brow furrowed not a second after, following the gamut of emotion sweeping over the face of the blonde as a dreadful realization hit her like a freight train. The amphistaff forgotten for the moment, the Sith simply stared long and hard at the woman before her, trying to discern what the kark was going on.

"She's obviously… delirious," she concluded hesitantly after a few seconds of intense scrutiny, her cold gaze lifting from those trembling hazel orbs. "[Are you sure you're giving her the right blood?]" she directed the question towards the Shaper on her left, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She was sure the other Vong had heard the warning she'd hissed at [member="Khallesh"], but she would repeat it nonetheless if it turned out the woman was killing her prisoner.

The blonde was apparently far more valuable than initially projected, after all.

"Do I look like your wife to you, blondie?" the Sith spat with derision, angling her body back towards the captive. "And stop crying, for kark's sake. We're barely warming up."

She yanked Lammie away with irritation bleeding into the thin line of her lips, absently noting the few speckles of blood still clinging to the amphistaff's fangs as it curled back into its dark den with a sated growl. Vrag let her gaze flicker from [member="Spencer Jacobs"], to Dhaladii and all the way to [member="Reverance"] before returning to the crestfallen visage of the blonde, lacking the malice and cruelty one would expect. There was only bemusement and a tightly controlled anger at nothing in particular, stemming from the fact that the woman couldn't pinpoint her discomfort no matter how hard she tried.

The urge to take it out on the prisoner was steadily mounting, and Vrag was having a hard time coming up with reasons to not do it. What was the worst that could come of it, really? A pissed wife? If even half of what Reverance had said was true, the woman was probably already on her way.

Which… well, chit.

The Hand of the Dark Lord growled, ordered the Dhaladii back in position, and stalked off once more.

Mystery solved.


[member="Ashin Varanin"]
 
[member="Vrag"]
[member="Spencer Jacobs"]
[member="Reverance"]
[member="Ashin Varanin"]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“[The blood types were triple checked and the Tsailon even sterilises everything it filters,]” Jun Phaath explained, one of her hands absently waved towards the biot connecting the two humans. Its body convulsed as it pumped blood through intestines that had been specifically re-engineered to carry out blood transfusions for a human.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]As Vrag chastised the [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Jeedai[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] before heading off Jun made the equivalent of a series of tutting noises under her breath. For the Yuuzhan Vong this was a deep, throaty ‘ker ker ker’ sound. She stepped around the human, eyes appraising her as her headdress writhed with irritation. The human’s pallid flesh had healed around the biots now and now more blood was being lost.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“This just won’t do,” she said sweetly. One elegant finger outstretched and found the tip of Spencer’s chin, tilting her head up to meet her eyes. “[Hmmm, we’re not going to get any work done if she won’t use the Force. Normally I’d suggest using your ability to aggravate people with your curt mannerisms until she fried you again Khallesh, but I think we’re going to need something a little more drastic,]” she said. The finger came away from the chin, leaving a bloody nick. That digit was split down to the knuckle, with a long chitinous blade used as a scalpel between the two halves.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Come now Spencer, [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]focus.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] I need results. I need you to use the Force. I tell you what, we’ll make it interesting. You heal fast, or you die,” Jun said, before turning to Khallesh and changing language.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“[What’s that blood pipe in the legs called the one th…]”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Femoral,” Khallesh responded bluntly.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“[Of course you’d know that one. If it’s for murder than you do take an interest in biology. Cut the [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]femoral, [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]but have some paste and a healing swatch ready in case she starts to bleed out,]” Jun said, her eyes turning to the Wrath who still watched carefully. Some of the Yuuzhan Vong biots were just as functional as bacta when it came to healing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]There was a slow scrape as the couffee appeared in Khallesh’s hand and she stalked forwards. One hand grasped the inside of Spencer’s thigh as she cut through the robeskin. One quick, yet precise incision where the groin met the leg was rewarded with a bright crimson arterial spray.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The Tsailon flexed and rippled as it tried to account for the sudden loss in blood pressure. The human thrall besides Spencer went very pale indeed. Jun stood back and watched the bioluminescent biots carefully. Khallesh watched the rhythmic bursts of blood adding to the rapidly expanding pool. “Tick tock Spencer. I’d say one minute until you black out. Three until you die,” Jun said ever so sweetly.[/SIZE]
 
Delusional was probably the best way to describe Spencer in this moment. The woman didn’t wish hard enough, maybe that was only a Sith thing. Eyes closed as she heard the heavy footsteps make their way out of her cell. Being brought back to reality, especially this reality was harsh - she wanted Vrag to be Ashin more than anything because that meant that she was either dead or being rescued. Ashin’s presence was close, she could feel her, but it was never a perfect gauge as to where the woman was - she could feel her light years away. Being refocused though, she looked towards the two Vong that were left with her.

This was a game to them or was it really science? Spencer watched and listened to the conversation between them. If Jun wanted her to do lightning - she wasn’t going to. The last time she had attempted it there was a backlash of pain which she had no idea what or how it was caused. Once again, she became the focus of the scientist the woman spoke a language she could understand. Healing meant she had to drop the Crucitorn and focus all her efforts on the healing - which already was a struggle. Spencer didn’t say anything and waited to see what the woman would do to have her heal.

As quickly as the woman had originally gotten away from the lightning, she cut through Spencer’s femoral artery. If she wasn’t losing blood before, she was definitely losing it now. Panic washed over her face as she suddenly became pale. She had two choices, heal herself and continue this game of prick the force user or she could let herself bleed out ending this game under her circumstances. Nothing happened for the first few moments, Spencer chose to end it, but she remembered something. There was a girl that still needed her and a woman who would probably burn the galaxy for what happened today. She couldn't have that happen. Changing her mind, Spencer dropped the Crucitorn which allowed all the pain she had been feeling to surge through her body. Not paying too much attention to that she focused all her energy on the artery that was spraying blood everywhere. The spray started to die down as she focused on the small fibers that made up the artery. From there she began to repair the muscle and then finally the skin itself. It wasn’t perfect and a scar would form, but it was a panicked repair.

Breathing heavy, she once again focused on the Crucitorn relieving herself of the current pain the best she could. Narrowing her eyes, she focused on Jun specifically the cavities that she assumed to be her mouth and nose. “You want to see me use the force? Fine.” Suddenly the air that would be going into the Vong for oxygen would soon meet a block, within that block the air would be forced away from the Vong’s air pathways, preventing any of it to reach her lungs. She wanted to see the Force? She was going to see the Force. “Is this good enough for you?”

[member="Vrag"] [member="Khallesh"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Ashin Varanin"]
 
[member="Spencer Jacobs"]
[member="Vrag"]
The typically unflappable Shaper stumbled back to the wall of the cell. Her delicate hands clawed at her throat as her eyes went wide. She turned to Khallesh pleadingly. The Huntress tried not to laugh. After all the Shaper had hardly been the most compassionate when the Jeedai had been frying her with lightning.

Khallesh slid the healing biots back into her armour in a very deliberate manner. It was only air after all; Jun could wait another minute or so.

“Kh… K. .. K…” Jun managed to croak as she dropped and started to crawl away. Her headdress writhed and coiled, betraying her panic. With a roll of her eyes Khallesh took one quick step and delivered a sharp punch to the side of the Jeedai’s temple.

“Thought you'd want a good reading first,” Khallesh grunted with a shrug.

“Hilarious,” Jun whispered between rapid breaths, freed from the blockage in her airways. “I think perhaps we will leave her to recuperate now.” The shaper’s eyes turned to the blood bank now. The thrall was looking particularly pale. He wouldn't last much longer in Khallesh’s opinion, but the Jeedai was far more important it seemed.

“Are we done?” Khallesh asked, cooking her head to one side. She could still feel her muscles twitching from the electrocution. Another hour in the steam cell after her first session was so rudely interrupted seemed quite appealing now.

“Yes, I quite think so,” Jun replied. “I think I'll send one of my novices back to pick up any further readings. If permitted of course?” she asked of the Wrath.

Khallesh eyed the Jeedai carefully. She almost felt sorry for the pitiful creature. To be captured was such a dishonourable act, yet she still showed some spirit. She deserved a warrior's death, not this gradual fading out of existence.



OOC/ Yuuzhan Vong exited thread for the rescue one.
 

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