Private The Meaning of Fear

[Darth Malevolum]

Location: Vjun, Malevolum Sanctum


She hadn't had a guest in some time. It had certainly been months if she was one to keep track of such things. Which she was not. She continued her long walk towards the interrogation chamber, feeling the heat of the reactor down below as it bellowed it's steam into the heat vents above the long winding room. She wasn't found of the design of her own citadel, but then again it had originally been a reactor before she 'inherited' it. She ignored the gestures of her guards, focusing instead on what she was going to do to the padawan in her custody.

It was a surprise to be sure, and not a welcome one, coming into possession of the jedi after the debacle of Yavin IV. Mal was so very tempted to leave the padawan there to die, but that would be a reward for all the trouble she had put not only Mal, but Void through. DuCray would pull through thankfully, her body currently was recovering within a tightly guarded medical bay. Unfortunately, for the jedi, recovery was not on her treatment schedule for today. Malevolum continued her walk through the empty holding cells of her Sanctum, remaining unphased by the snap to attention of her soldiers. Her focus fell to the lone door at the end of the hall, and sensed what laid beyond it. A lone jedi, her force presence was faint but holding. Physical torture would most likely kill her in her current state, which left mental torture as the tool by which Mal would mold her. The echani's lips curled into a grin, as several ideas all came to mind at once. The doorguards snapped to, giving a sign of respect to the darth, which she ignored like all who came before them.

The door slide open, greeting Mal to a sight she had seen before. The Twi'lek laid secured to an interrogation table, her remaining arm was locked down, neck and ankles secured to Durasteel clamps, and several bacta ivs were linked around her arm and neck. An oxygen pump had been secured over her chest cavity and regulated her breathing until her punctured lung had finished healing. A pair of medical droids operated the devices and ivs, as the room was filled with the sounds of monitors, binary, and the occasional sound of artificial breathing. It was rather annoying truth be told, but Malevolum was going to ensure her patience would be rewarded this day. Turning to one of the droids, she gestured to the comatose jedi. "What is her condition?". The darth inquried, not caring what the droid said, but it's programming demanded it provide information before delivering a treatment. "Subject is stable, shows slow sign of improvement. We believe the oxygen treatment may be discontinued within the next day or two, though we are concerned she may have inital difficulties given the amputation of her right Lekku and arm." Not caring for the plight of the padawan, Mal turned to look over the woman, knowing just what she had in store for her. "Prepare her for interrogation. Take the calculations to ensure she is stable enough to withstand severe mental strain." As she expected, the droid attempted to refute using logic. "Given the state of the subject, we can not ensure her survivability will remain at current levels. Do you wish to continue?" It wasn't the droids fault for thinking this way, it's programming assumed Mal cared about what happened to the jedi. It was simple. If the Twi'lek survived, she was worthy of being Sith. If not, well, it was of no consequence. "Continue." Mal stepped to the corner of the room as the droids began to run tests, readjust their machines and preform several injections into the badly beaten padawan. Void had assured Mal that the master for this one would come, but the darth didn't think this to be true. It had been two days since they had arrived, and there was no indication that help was coming for the Twi'lek. How would they even know where she was? No, she would be abandoned. Just like Alana had been all those years ago. Once Mi'la accepted the fact no one cared for her, she would be all too willing to submit. Once the droids had finished their work, Mal moved towards the Twi'lek's head, placing her hands over the sides of the woman's head, she would forcibly reach out to the mind of the jedi, with all the malice she held for the padawan dripping in her voice.

"Hello Mi'la. I've come to talk."

With the jedi practically helpless, Mal began to pull at the weakened will of the jedi, spilling doubt, fear, pain, and letting it stew into her mind. Mi'la would be hurtled into a nightmarish existence, as her doubts and fears would begin to tear at her. If she proved too weak to conquer them, she would die. But, if she fought back, if she defeated these demons, she would need to tap into the darkside to do so.

There would be no salvation for this one.

Least not one that Malevolum could see.

Mi'la Undari

 

[Mi'la Undari]

Mi'la could feel gravity taking it's toll, as she dangled from seventy feet, her finger tips digging into what little of a hand hold as she could. A lump in her throat developed, as she tried to lift herself up, only to have her muscles give out from the fatigue. She had been in this situation before, it was so similar to where she had been before. She had been doing something else, something more important, but she couldn't remember what it was. She looked around, frantic to find another purchase in the rock bed, as fatigue distracted her from her thoughts. Mi'la could hear the clattering of legs from down below; the energy spiders would be on her soon. Last time it had been a simulation, but this felt real, authentic. As her mind turned to solving a puzzle she was looking at, she felt a solution come to fruition. Thinking she might have found her awnser, she reached out, trying another angle, her hand grabbing for one of the adjacent stalagmites to continue her climb. She had failed this climb before, but she knew what not to do this time. Then, something strange happened, a voice that she hadn't known before spoke, the sound with it carried a wake that seemed to shake the foundations of the cave with it's message:

"Hello Mi'la. I've come to talk."

To her horror, the shaking of the cave had caused her hand to slip, just as her other hand brushed against the rock she was reaching for, sending the padawan into a plummet. A shill scream cleared her throat, as Mi'a tumbled down towards the bottom of the cave. Or she would have if not for the intervention that came.

Instead of falling as she had so many times in the past, she found herself stopped in midair, prompting a sense of confusion from the Twi'lek, until she realized the cause. The familiar form of Sakadi stood across from her, literally standing on the cavern wall she had been struggling to climb. Feeling that she was to be lectured for her failing, Mi'la let out a sigh, before looking to her mentor to be lectured. "You've failed again." Sakadi Marathi Sinvala spoke, causing the Twi'lek to flinch at the disappointment that was evident in her master's voice. "It's not an easy course, I'm getting better th-" "There is no excuse for failure Mi'la. I have no desire to waste my time with you." That didn't sound like the Sephi at all. "Wait, Sakadi what are you-" Before Mi'la could finish what she was going to say, the Sephi made a gesture, sending the Twi'lek downwards, straight into the grasps of several energy spiders. Terror seized Mi'la at once, as she lashed out, trying to grab onto something, trying to keep the Sephi from dooming her to this fate. It didn't make sense, why was this happening? Why was she doing this? "SAKADI, SAKADI PLEASE! DON'T DO THIS!" Mi'la screamed, trying in vain as the creatures took hold of her, pulling her into their midst. "SAKADI!" She managed one last scream before she was swarmed by the creatures, her hand lashing out to the sky in vain.


The pain she experienced felt far more real than any dream she had been in before, one that she found herself unable to wake from.

Her vital signs would skyrocket, as despite the heavy sedation, she would try her best to lash out against the bonds. Mi'la had no way of knowing what was happening, only that she was trapped in a nightmare state that she could not get out of. The droids would have to act soon if they didn't want to risk losing the padawan.


Darth Malevolum

 

[Darth Malevolum]

The thin mental shielding that still remained cracked like a shell, and it's contents were left open to the dark. The memories were the first thing that Mal went to, as she could wade through the ocean of memories for the Twi'lek, and extract exactly what she sought. Rich parents, given whatever she desired, lived a papered life, but without the one thing money couldn't buy; her parents love. Pathetic. Mal watched as time and time again the young girl drifted further from her parents, before they began to send her away, the only way they could show they cared was flipping the bill for her. No wonder why she was so weak. Mal's voice would seep into the girl's mind like a poison, aiming to twist and bend the will that was enabling her to resist. "Your own family resented your quest for knowledge, you were a blight on their marriage. You were unmarried, uninterested in fending for yourself. You'd rather linger in the relics of the past than be at home with them, that's how ungrateful of a daughter you were. Don't worry, they were near to disowning you when they died."

The memories twisted, flowing into a year of servitude to the Hutts, a young Mi'la being held down as a branding rod was pressed onto the front of her head; well, that explained the scar on her head. The Twi'lek had experienced her own type of suffering during her years, as Mal read over her time in shackles, and felt the slightest bit of sympathy for the woman. It wouldn't save her for what was to come. Finding the Twi'lek now among the jedi, as time and time again, she was alone from the rest of her kind. Was it intentional? It seemed that way, like Mi'la wanted to be away from it all, looking for the husks of dead civilizations to be lost within. "You don't belong with them. You never had, but you had nothing. After all, you were 'too good' to finish what your parents started." Mal spoke again, knowing she was driving a stake into the woman's heart with every word she spoke.

The droids intervened, adding additional stimulants to the iv line and succeeding in slowing the heart rate of the patient. They began to speak to the darth, advising that she stop the questioning process, but Mal ignored them. She had a job to do, and she wasn't about to let a droid interfere with it.
Mi'la Undari

 

[Mi'la Undari]

At one point she was being swarmed by energy spiders, feeling as if her very being was being torn apart, all the while Sakadi watched with that disappointed gleam in her. The next thing she knew, Mi'la shot up in bed, finding herself back at home, in the room she hadn't slept in for almost a decade. The overly fancy sheets felt just as she remembered them, silky smooth, overly comfortable, and a reminder of why she hated this life she lead. Throwing the covers off, she moved out of bed, finding the rest of her room just as she remembered. The ceiling was still decorated by the holographic star map, her star ship model collection was aligned by manufacturing number right where she had set it, and her personal library collection that took up much of the space she had left in her room. The Twi'lek stood there for a moment, marveling at just what she once had so long ago, and how much she resented it. Then the voice whispered in her ears, and with each syllable fire began to spread about the room.

"Your own family resented your quest for knowledge, you were a blight on their marriage. You were unmarried, uninterested in fending for yourself. You'd rather linger in the relics of the past than be at home with them, that's how ungrateful of a daughter you were. Don't worry, they were near to disowning you when they died."

What hurt her most, was that it was true. All of it. She hated what they had done, wanted nothing to with them because they wanted nothing to do for her. The last time they talked, she was so angry at them, ready to just throw their relationship away for the sins they had committed. Now they were dead, and their spoiled little girl watched. There was a moment where she actually felt relief when they passed, but now, there was only shame. Hanging her head down, Mi'la did nothing as the fire began to spread, consuming the room, and working it's way to her. The heat was intense, as she could feel it stinging against her skin, but she just couldn't bring herself to care. This was probably what she deserved.


The scene changed again, this time she found herself in Silver Rest, the training room she had met Sakadi within. Where she felt she finally got to use her techniques as a jedi, actually feeling like she had made a difference for the first time in a while. Turning around, the room began to fill with spectators, as the padawan stood in the center of a sparring ring. Her sabers were in her hand, blades ignited, though she couldn't fathom why she was here. The voice began to speak again, and with it the scene warped into something new.

"You don't belong with them. You never had, but you had nothing. After all, you were 'too good' to finish what your parents started."

Before she could work it out, the hiss of sabers drew her attention, as several sparing droids moved to engage her. The spectators did nothing, watching with glee as the Twi'lek was faced against impossible odds, safely protected behind an energy shield that cut Mi'la off from the world. She moved to attack, trying to fend off the droid attackers, though the words kept repeating, and with it another droid seemed to take the field. They began to swarm her, weapons bearing down on her, breaking through her feeble defenses as the sheer numbers were overwhelming. Despite her best efforts, her guard broke, and as it did, Mi'la felt strike after strike be laid against her. The sabers weren't set to lethal, rather training mode, but with each strike an agonizing pain lanced through her body; after all, that was the whole point of the training sabers. Unlike in most situations though, the droids didn't stop, and as Mi'la fell to the ground, her sabers falling from her hands as the pain began to build, the droids continued to strike her. She screamed out in pain, as she was hit several times across her body in rapid succession, the droids not ceasing their assault, and not a single person come to her aid.

"You don't belong with them. You never had, but you had nothing."

The voice continued on, hammering into her mind as the pain wielded it into her psyche. She wanted to go home, she wanted this to end, she was tired of the pain and the confusion. The voice on the other hand, had other ideas.

"Because the truth is, is that you are nothing."

The padawan's vital signs began to spike once again, as her life hung in the balance, slowly slipping away as her will diminished little by little. Her mind was reaching it's limit of what it could handle, and she wouldn't last much longer.
Darth Malevolum

 

[Darth Malevolum]

It seemed her mental probbing had found a weak spot in the woman's psyche, and she pressed it. The memories took shape, and with it Malevolum twisted them into an instrument of torment, and relishing the pain that the padawan's mind recoiled in. Her mind was still weak, her ego fragile, and her self esteem had seen better days. The first phase of turning was nearly done, and it would just be a little bit more before the woman cracked. The slightest bit of pressure would undo the padawan, and Malevolum had intended on pressing, but stopped as the noise within the room caught her attention. Pulling back from the mind of the woman, she found the vital signs the droids had warned her about were not faring well.

The Darth stepped back, letting the droids go to work, as the respirator was working overtime to ensure it's user was able to breath. A strange thing occurred as Mal looked at the sight before her, as pity took the wheel within her mind. She could accomplish her goal here and now, probably torment the woman just enough for her mental barrier to completely buckle, and with it be willing to submit as Mal had planned. One of the droids noticed her hesitation, as they had been able to stabilize the subject. Had she really dallied that long? She must have been getting soft, holding back on a jedi that had brought her so much suffering for the brief moment they had known one another.

"My Lord, the subject is now stable. Do you wish to continue?"

It asked, it's sensors flashing that annoying orange in her eye. It's many limbs rotated about, perhaps looking for something to do. Looking back to the padawan, Mal's face twitched with disgust, wondering how someone as pathetic as this had managed to cause her so much misery. Malevolum had opened her mouth, intending on saying something, but stopped. The words stuck in her throat. Today had shown much progress in the turning of the padawan, surely she could continue the work tomorrow. "No, I need to check on Darth Void. Continue your work." She stepped back, her eyes still fixated on the padawan on the table. What is the point of this? She found herself wondering, as the interrogation room door hissed shut behind her. It was a thought that bother Mal for much of her walk to the medical ward, and one she never found an answer to; at least, not one that sat right with her.

Mi'la would be able to rest for the rest of today, but once she was fully recovered, Mal would repay this kindness with cruelty. She couldn't risk going soft, nor harboring pity for her subjects. It was an error she would be sure to correct, all in due time though.

/End Thread
Mi'la Undari