Private To a Flame

[Arris Windrun]

DESEVRO ACADEMY
Tag: Neriah Calven

So many events transpired in so little time - the boot camp, the Battle over Atrisia, Mercy handing Arris the "keys to the kingdom," and her betrayal of Mauve du Vain...

Each haunted her in their own way. On the Death Star, Arris melded into the battle station's own network and nearly lost herself in the process. Amidst the aftermath, Mercy summoned her to explain that she was leaving the Black Sun for good and leaving the cyborg with all that she had built in the underworld. It was the backhand of fate then that led Arris to shoot Mauve only days later, when she was abducted in a raid. She thought the Zeltron dead, and indeed, everyone outside of the High Republic's inner circle believed she was.

Now she found herself standing above Neriah, who appeared seated alone in the snowy courtyard just beneath the shadow of the temple.

"Pack your things," Arris barked down to the acolyte. "I've got need for a second set of hands, yeah?"

She lept off the ledge, her feet crunching into the packed frozen snow below. "And when I say pack, I mean it - we're heading to Narsh."

The cyborg had picked Neriah out of the bunch, same as she had selected Kirie for an earlier trip to the Smuggler's Moon. She was very aware of the tension between the two, given she was at least partly responsible for their initial clash during training, but that wasn't why she picked them. A shrewder Sith would have pit them against each other, letting that conflict fuel Neriah's experience and push Kirie further down the dark path, but for Arris, it was something else.

It was subconscious relatability. She was an underdog, so were they, but no therapist within a thousand light-years was gonna crack that realization out of her.

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

Neriah had limited her interactions with the Acolytes as much as she could in recent days. After the Zinder prank that ended up with her being stuck on the freezing wasteland of Ilum for hours, she didn't know which of them she could trust. If any. Of course, that was what she believed that she was meant to learn. That she couldn't trust anyone. No matter who it was. Even a teacher...Especially a teacher that was barking orders at her, as Neriah's gaze flicked up from the snow she had been staring, glaring up at Arris from behind her glasses.

Narsh. Nar Shaddaa? What was there that Neriah would be useful for? Was this another effort to try and get rid of her? It would make sense. She wasn't a good Sith. At least in her mind she wasn't. Neriah didn't have the strength for it. Nor did she believe she had the mental aptitude for it. Betrayal. Backstabbing. It was not her way. It never had been. Even as she had been giving into her anger. Her hatred. It wasn't enough to convince her to betray someone. Perhaps because in a way, Neriah believed she deserved it all. As a failure. A disgrace to what it meant to have been a Jedi. She no longer denied being an Acolyte...even if she was somewhat terrible.

"Mhm."

Either way, she just gave a non-committal grumble to Arris' orders. Pushing herself up to her feet to head to her dorm to pack. Pack what you might ask? Well...Neriah had found out it was always best to pack light. She barely had anything to her own name anymore. Most of her belongings had been trashed by the other Acolytes. Her journal, that had once be filled with her observations and dreams for the future had been left out in the snow to be destroyed. Her old Jedi robes torn up and coated in what she had hoped was red paint...The only thing she still had that she truly called her own was the Lightsaber that constantly stayed at her side. No matter the situation. Even as the Saber changed, so did Neriah.

With that all said and done, she packed what she thought she'd need. Extra glasses. Some spare clothes. That was it. There was no point trying to find some form of snack, or taking an extra pillow. The Acolyte threw the pack over her shoulder, before marching her way back out of the dorm to meet Arris.

"Ready."

Short. To the point. There was no need for her to waste time with excess words.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Neriah Calven

Arris felt the pain and self-doubt roll off Neriah. So clearly, in fact, that for the first time, the cyber mutant could see Force ripple in her wake as she walked off to gather her things.

When the acolyte returned, she would find Arris with a smoke between her lips. Arris eyed the young woman's belongings and was at first surprised, then pleased to see how lightly she'd packed. That was good, Arris thought; there was no need for sentimental belongings where they were headed, completely ignorant that the acolyte had little to begin with. The Dark Horse hadn't a clue how the students tormented each other.

"Good," she said with a hand on each hip, and a slight smirk, speaking with the cigarette balanced on her bottom lip. "Ship's this way."

THE DARK LANDS
NAR SHADDAA
​

It was an uneventful trip along the Parlemian. With the Covenant's aid, the Black Sun had tunneled 'safe' smuggling routes along the trade lane, narrowly avoiding Confederation and Mandalorian patrols, until they reached Syndicate space and the Smuggler's Moon not long after that. Hyperspace travel really had a way of making the galaxy seem small.

Arris left the acolyte alone, with plenty of space in the freighter's lounge and a comfortable bedroom at that. The cyborg didn't know if the young woman actually slept, though, because she didn't.

When they arrived, she brought the ship down through the moon's Red Light Sector and continued beyond that until they plunged into the depths of the Undercity. Here, it was dark... darker than anywhere else on Nar Shaddaa, to the point it earned its local name: The Dark Lands. Which, at least to Arris's mind, lent more wonder than the location deserved. It wasn't some dark and mysterious place; it was destitute and sad. Apparently, long ago, the Hutts sabotaged the infrastructure to keep rowdy gangs under control, all to protect their 'entertainment' sector above, and the wealth that flowed.

It seemed no one bothered to restore power after all these centuries, and yet millions lived--quite literally--under the shadow of profit.

She turned on the starship's search lights, but still had to navigate by viewscreen instead. Thankfully, it wasn't much further until they found a suitable landing pad in the derelict frame of an ancient starfighter factory.

"Alright," she broke what may've been a long silence. "Welcome to Nar Shaddaa!"

They stepped off the starship. "Wish I had something more exciting, but we're just looking for a place down here."

Of course, there had to be more than that, but the older woman hadn't explained until just now.

"Careful down here, though... Second time myself, and most folks ain't welcoming of Syndicate brass."

She looked back with a grin illuminated under her chemlight.

"Oh," more seriously, "and there's the Ganks."

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

Her gaze flickered over towards the smoke Arris had, wrinkling her nose in disgust. A part of her wanted to give some snarky comment about how smoking will kill you early. But she didn't, because that's what she wanted. She wanted all of them to die early. The sooner the better. Blights on the Galaxy. Herself included.

When it came to staying on the ship during the journey, Neriah didn't even dare leave her room. She doubted that it was truly safe, but it was the only place that she could be herself. Huddled on the bed, knees pulled up to her chest as she stared at the wall. Letting her imagination run wild. Imaginary scenarios running through her head like clockwork. Imagining how this was all a trap. That she was going to be stabbed and left to bleed out on the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Or that she was going to be used for some Sith ritual and tortured. None of these were new thoughts at the end of the day. The core of them was the same. Her, being hurt, over and over again, for other people's amusements. The only thing that had changed was the location of her imagination...

When it came to sleeping, she took what little she could survive off. It was hard to fully relax and be comfortable, when you expected someone to come rushing into the room with a blaster pointed directly at you...But at the same timat, that was something Neriah had survived herself. When no-one else thought she would. When they thought she was pathetic. Weak. In a way, she still was all of those. But she was also a survivor. She'd crawl through the mud and dirt no matter how much she wanted to give up herself. Her body just wouldn't let her...

None of that mattered however. As that brings Neriah to where she was now. Stepping off the starship alongside Arris. Even as the Cyborg grinned at Neriah, the Acolyte just stared back with no expression. What was the point in smiling? In showing anger? It was just more ways people could pick on you. To kick her further down the pile.

"What are you trying to find?"

Yet her eyebrow did raise when Arris mentioned the gank. Neriah had some knowledge of them at least. What else were you expected to do when you couldn't leave your room? You read. And read. And read. It didn't help her get stronger, but would she ever get stronger? She doubted it. Not that she cared much anymore. Every day was just her trying to survive to see the next.

"And? They bleed. They die like anyone else. Their cybernetics can give them away in the Force. A mixture of organic and cybernetic stands out. Like you do."

This might have been the most Neriah had even said to someone since she had snapped. Her gaze still focused ahead of her, as she let the Force guide her senses. The whirring of electronics and cybernetics coming to her ears. She had to look past the aura that Arris gave in the Force. To look further into their surroundings. She had been ambushed in the past. She wasn't going to let it happen so easily again.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

"What are you trying to find?"

"A light switch," she teased.

Somewhere within the Dark Lands was the utilities hub that controlled the sector's infrastructure - power, water, and ventilation, to name a few. Although the Hutts destroyed the power generators, the rest was at least somewhat intact; otherwise, she and Neriah wouldn't survive.

"And? They bleed. They die like anyone else. Their cybernetics can give them away in the Force. A mixture of organic and cybernetic stands out. Like you do."

Arris quirked a brow of her own... she didn't expect her to know about the Ganks. Few did who weren't either from or frequent visitors to the moon. Though what impressed the cyborg more was the acolyte's appraisal of her.

"I stand out?" She wondered.

Until then, Arris hadn't considered how others saw her in the Force, because she seldom saw them. When the apprentice of Adekos reached out into the Force, tried to see within it...

She winced as if hit with a headache. It was all static and noise - sharp and unpleasant; it drowned her, the chorus of machinery that scratched at her mind. Arris shook herself out of the experience and pretended there wasn't a disturbance.

"So how do I stand out in the Force?"

The cyborg kept her hands close to her hip, where a pair of revolvers sank in their holsters, as the pair ventured away from the landing pad. Their immediate surroundings were what one would expect of ecumenopolis slums. There were scattered sources of light on the ground, ranging from lamps to portable generators and power droids; others were desperate enough to maintain chemical fires that flickered colorfully against the black.

A foul odor filled the air as they pushed deeper. It smelled of organic rot, and Arris wasn't interested in finding out why. Arris gestured for Neriah to stay close when a sound came from around a pile of wreckage. Clattering, then the scramble of feet.

"Keep an eye out!" Arris whispered harshly and fondled the grip of a revolver.

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

The teasing didn't amuse Neriah. In the past it might have, when there was more warmth in her heart, more joy in her eyes, but that warmth and joy had died. A small sigh escaping her lips as she decided that she wasn't going to get any real answers. Presumably, they had to figure out how to fix the electronics here or something. Shame. They weren't something that Neriah excelled in.

"You're unnatural."

It was a simple statement. Some could say it was in response to Arris' wonder about standing out. With the speed she had said it, some might even think that she had predicted Arris' thoughts. In reality however, it was just Neriah stating her thoughts. Was it any surprise? Cyborgs went against the natural order of things. Yet there was something more to it. Something that hurt Neriah's eyes when she tried to look too deeply at it.

Her gaze flickered over towards Arris, as the cyborg winced. Neriah's eyes narrowing for a moment as she wondered what was going on in the head of the instructor. She seemed to get back to normal in no time, so perhaps it was nothing...but Neriah knew well enough how to hide it when you were feeling something. It was a skill she had swiftly had to learn amongst the Acolytes. Either way, she stored the information in the back of her mind, as she went to answer Arris' question.

"...The Force flows through all parts of the body. Naturally. It flows equally. But...not with you. It's focused. It hurts to look too hard. When I look...It's like I'm staring into a dark void. Absent of Light...It's unnatural. Even the Sith I've came across has some form of Light...But it's as if all you are is Darkness...As if you've bathed in it. Yet...at the same time, I don't sense it from You. I sense it from part of you."

Did it make sense? Probably not. It barely made sense to Neriah. She understood the Force better than most at her level. It was her area of expertise. She couldn't fight. Not well at least. But the Force was her tool. Her weapon to help her in survival.

As soon as Arris had told Neriah to keep an eye out, the Acolyte took cover behind a piece of wreckage for a moment, taking her lightsaber into her dominant hand as she waited for Arris to make the first move. As much as Neriah wouldn't admit it, she knew the Cyborg was better at taking lead in this situation. Neriah had book smarts, but Arris had the street smarts needed to survive.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

"You're unnatural."

Words that cut through the city's noise. The way Neriah said it is what got to her the most. It wasn't an insult or some bigoted accusation; it was a piercing observation. Arris had to sit with it for a moment as they walked.

"...The Force flows through all parts of the body. Naturally. It flows equally. But...not with you. It's focused. It hurts to look too hard. When I look...It's like I'm staring into a dark void. Absent of Light...It's unnatural. Even the Sith I've came across has some form of Light...But it's as if all you are is Darkness...As if you've bathed in it. Yet...at the same time, I don't sense it from You. I sense it from part of you."

The cyborg was still recovering from that awful sensation, on top of the cold feeling Neriah's earlier comment had left. One moment, the quiet acolyte, and next she's spewing unexpected insights.

"Just who exactly are you?" Arris wondered.

Still, the once padawan's words were rather sobering. In a way she didn't quite understand, Arris felt scene, and that scared her. It was a fear that could be sensed in the Force, because like Neriah, the Talusian had not masked herself to those perceptions. Quite the opposite, really, and she was starting to learn that. Arris now wondered if other people saw her the way Neriah did.

Did Mercy? How about Kirie? Adekos, she was certain of, but that didn't make the prospect less terrifying.

For a woman who so desperately wanted to be known, Arris abhorred the thought of being seen - let alone read.

Luckily, there were more pressing matters at hand.

Arris peered around the bend where she expected to find the source of the noise. Instead, there was just a disabled gonk droid that looked stripped for parts. Before she could attest to their safety, a Gamorrean squealed his battle cry and charged at the acolyte with his arg'garok held high.

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

There was no answers or words that came out of Neriah's mouth, as her focus was purely on their surroundings. As much as she hated to admit it, the bullying and abuse she had gotten from the other Acolytes had helped her affinity with the Force to adapt. To progress. Without it, she'd have been beaten. Broken. Dead. In some cases, that might have been a better state for her, as opposed to what she was right now. Yet as much as death might have been a better fate for her, her mind refused to allow it.

Which is why as the Gamorrean came squealing towards Neriah, the Acolyte's lightsaber snapped open, the purple blade crackling in the dark as she spun around to face the Gamorrean, preparing for the arg'garok's swing. In a straight up fair fight, she wouldn't have stood a chance. Of course, fortunately for Neriah, this wasn't a fair fight. She had the Force. The Gamorrean had nothing.

So as it charged at her, Neriah reached out with her spare hand, using the Force to suddenly pull the Gamorrean in an attempt to catch it off balance, whilst she stepped off to the side, slashing her saber out to waist height, to let the Gamorrean stumble through the blade, in an attempt to bisect. Of course, some would say it would have been more Jedi-like for her to attempt a thrust to the heart, or a decapitation...but Neriah had finally accepted something. She was no Jedi.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Arris scrambled back around the corner, just in time to watch Neriah throw off the Gamorrean's footing and slice him across the waist. It was quick, ruthless, and in a mere few seconds... it was over. The axe clattered onto the duracrete as the bisected corpse fell with a single thud. The cyborg looked over the body with her revolver drawn, then back at Neriah with a cold stare.

She looked back down at the body and pointed her chemlight at him. The smell was bad, but it wasn't the same as that organic odor that had passed. More curious yet were the strange growths on his skin. They looked almost like barnacles, some kind of hard nodules that bulged out of the body with infected wounds around their exit points.

"Bleh... This guy doesn't look so good," she looked back at Neriah and snickered. "Err, I mean for a corpse."

Under chemlight, Arris continued to investigate his body, but found nothing else out of the ordinary. It was probably worth further looking into, but it wasn't why they had come down here.

She glanced at Neriah again. "I probably wouldn't touch him... Hmm, forget about him. Good work."

But why had he attacked her? Sure, the people down here weren't exactly living under the best conditions, but random attacks like this were more myth than reality in the Underworld. A boogeyman for enforcement to decry. The Gamorrean didn't appear to belong to any gangs or cartels either. It was the first thing she looked for among his clothes and belongings.

"Hm... Maybe the Hutts threw him down here," she looked up at the plumbing of the Red Light Sector above them and thought.

At no point did she stop to ask the acolyte if she was alright, or how she felt after killing him. This had been daily life for Arris even before she became a Sith. To take a life? It was an act like any other. Eat, kill, sleep. The Sith called them passions; she called it survival.

Neriah Calven

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

"Hm...Might be more like him. Not sure what these growths are. Xenobiology was never something I was good at."

Neriah...strangely enough seemed to be coming out of her shell, as she crouched near the corpse, leaning her elbows against her knees as she examined it. The faint sign of what could be described as a smile on her face. If one thought she'd have been disturbed by killing a living creature, she wasn't. It was her or them. She'd do it again. And again. As many times as she needed. But right now? She was treating this like it was some kind of puzzle. It might not have been important to why they were...but at the same time, it might have been.

"There's plenty of possible diseases that he could have gotten here...but these growths are the most interesting...Injection points perhaps? Chemicals could have fried his brain, or what counts as one. Perhaps some form of cybernetics that his body was rejecting?...The pain could also cause him to go into some kind of blind rage...It was conscious and capable enough to make sounds...Though if it was actual words...Well, I don't speak pig."

It would also become very apparent that...she was talking to herself. Out loud. Making verbal notes as to her opinion on what was going on with the alien, as she ignited her lightsaber once more and delicately cut around one of the barnacle like growth, carving it out alongside a portion of flesh to see how deep it truly went. She was no scientist, and was most definitely not a butcher...but she was an intellectual.

"Best to keep our guard up. If there are more of them out there, they might be waiting to ambush us again."

With that, the Acolyte switched her lightsaber off, though kept it in her hand. The sign of the smile had previously wiped completely from her face as she returned to the expressionless state she had prior, ready to move back out with Arris.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

"I've had my trists with needles before, never seen a severe reaction so ugly as that."

Then there was the acolyte's remark about implant rejection, which the cyborg did not entertain. It wasn't that such rejections didn't occur, but that usually the signs were more experiential rather than visible. That said, Arris wasn't an expert either - never had any formal education to cover biology besides the most basic.

"Whoa!"

She was surprised when Neriah's blade reignited and cut around the growth. "You sure it ain't contagious?"

It appeared as if they were rooted deep, like the roots or a stem of something bigger inside.

"Best to keep our guard up. If there are more of them out there, they might be waiting to ambush us again."

Arris was still staring at where the acolyte had cut into the dead Gamorrean, quite unresponsive to anything else, including her words, for an uncomfortable minute of silence, until finally she looked at her and nodded.

"Yeah," she muttered.

Stuff like this had a way of getting to her, and so she was glad not to linger.

The two continued, albeit with wariness between them at the possibility of another ambush, or whatever it was she did hear back there, because she wasn't convinced it was the Gamorrean. At some point in their walk, Arris withdrew a data puck from her jacket and turned it on. The holographic display showed three-dimensional schematics of the area.

"We're almost there," she said.

Eventually, they arrived at what appeared to be a large, abandoned structure surrounded by pylons.

A faded aurebesh sign read: Utility Control 552

This was the place. It was a rather large facility, and inside were derelict controls that once powered this whole Sector. Undoubtedly, people have been here plenty of times, which hinted at the damage the Hutts had done if no one has gotten it back up and running since. Their first obstacle was getting inside; the blast doors were shut, and looked too thick for a simple lightsaber party trick.

Arris spotted an open window, maybe three or four meters up. "You think you can get in there?" She looked down at Neriah.

The acolyte's small stature may very well be the advantage they needed. While the technopath may've been able to open the door with sheer will, she wanted to see how creative her companion could be.

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

"If it was airborne, we'd both already be infected."

Neriah said rather matter of factly as she inspected the growth, frowning to herself as she saw how rooted into the corpse they had been. It seemed more organic than cybernetic if she was honest to herself. Plant related possibly? But what plants would you find on Nar Shaddaa of all places? It could be something else, but she wasn't sure what...And the unknown just made her be on guard even more as she turned her lightsaber off once again.

"Be careful of anything scuttling about. Something might be infecting people around here."

Why was she the one saying that? Not even Neriah knew. If anything, she wasn't going to let herself get attacked by whatever had gotten to the Gamorrean. Right now, she just kept her eyes open and ears alert, not bothering to speak up to Arris. They weren't here for a chat. She could have tried to keep her senses alert, using the Force to empower them, but considering she didn't even know what she was looking for...Was there any point in wasting her energy in that way? Especially considering the fact that it seemed like she was once again being given another test, as her gaze flickered over towards the window Arris had pointed out.

"I could. Not sure how I'll open the door on the other side. I've never been a huge technofreak."

History was Neriah's main thing. She tilted her head in thought as she debated between two thoughts in her mind. If they had explosives, she'd much prefer to throw them on into the window first to make sure that the place was clear. Sure, it might have been a bit of a reactive move, but she wasn't going to risk herself unnecessarily. That choice wasn't available however, as Neriah decided to use the Force to help herself Leap up towards the window, to grab onto the edge and throw herself in.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

The thought of airborne infection was uncomfortable to say the least, particularly on a moon like Nar Shaddaa, where millions could huddle into the space of a small area. Thankfully, the cyborg had little to worry about personally. Her artificial lungs and biomonitor were sensitive enough to perceive and attack most foreign bodies - she was practically immune to inhalants and poisons unless they were corrosive in nature.

But that didn't mean she could not feel for those less fortunate, especially in a place like the Dark Lands.

She glanced back at Neriah's caution, then gave their surroundings a cursory examination. Maybe whatever they smelled before the Gamorrean attacked was the thing responsible... Another uncomfortable thought.

"I could. Not sure how I'll open the door on the other side. I've never been a huge technofreak."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

She watched as the acolyte summoned the Force and leaped towards the window, disappearing inside. Then, the cyborg walked up to the large shuttered door and placed her metal palm against it. One of the more common misconceptions of technopathy, among those who did not possess the art, was the belief that a technopath could manipulate powered things. It certainly helped, but it wasn't the whole truth. Any inanimate object in the Force was fair game, and that is what made mechu-deru so dangerous.

Powered only by Arris herself, the blast doors groaned and sparked as they began to part for the first time in centuries, just enough to leave a gap big enough for a person to squeeze inside.

"Good job getting in," Arris teased. "Now, we're looking for two places in here. A control room and a reactor room."

Their immediate surroundings were a destroyed reception desk, a broken elevator, and one stairwell leading up, and a single hallway leading further back.

Arris looked at the stairs. "If I had to guess, control room is probably up top, and the reactor is probably through there," she pointed at the hallway.

With a slight grin. "How do you feel about splitting up?"

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

Of course it had been another test. A test that had caused Neriah to waste her energy. At the very least, it appeared that there wasn't much of a danger on the other side. The Acolyte raised an eyebrow as the door seemed to open up after she had already climbed in. It took only a moment for her to realise it was mechu-deru. A skill that Neriah herself had never managed to accomplish under...under...She shook that thought from her mind, clenching her fist in frustration as her nails dug into the palm of her hand, a few small drops of blood dripping onto the floor around Neriah's feet.

"Surprised you were small enough to fit through such a tiny gap."

If Arris was going to tease Neriah, the Acolyte was going to do the exact same back...Though it was perhaps quite noticable than there wasn't much venom in her words, compared to how Neriah had been acting earlier. For better or for worse, Neriah was warming up to Arris. Whilst there was plenty of walls put up to protect herself, Neriah was allowing herself to relax somewhat.

"If we take this from a logical perspective, the reactor would more than likely require more technological know-how than I have. I'd potentially risk damaging it to a point of no repair. With your technopathy, you'd be far more suited to heading down towards the reactor...And so, as much as I don't feel comfortable with splitting up, as the weak link, it is a suitable choice."

It was cold logic at this point. There was no longer any warmth for Neriah when it came to thinking. Her gaze flickering over towards the stairwell for a moment, hesitating. The voices were coming back to the back of her mind. Getting louder. And louder.

She's going to leave you here.
You'll be abandoned.
You're a waste of space.
Waste of resources.
Waste.
Waste.
Waste.

"Shut Up!"

The shrill screech echoed throughout the hallway, as Neriah gripped her fists tighter, clenching her eyes shut. She needed the voices to stop. She needed everything to stop. But it wouldn't. It never would. She was stuck in hell. It was a living hell. One that she would just have to go through. If she got abandoned, so what? She'd find some way to survive. She always did. It was the one thing Neriah had to realise. She had no-one. Not anymore. Every step she made, every choice she went through, she had to remember, it was only ever her.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

"Surprised you were small enough to fit through such a tiny gap."

Arris threw her shoulders in a shrug. "People always expect me to be bigger."

She paced while Neriah assessed the situation and gave her advice. It was good, well thought out, and gave her a better understanding of what kind of person this once padawan was, and it reminded her a lot of Tilon. Her lips curled into a smile at that.

"Smart. I'll take the reactor, then. The control room should be clearly label--"

Arris winced in genuine startlement at Neriah's outburst. "Sorry?" The cyborg cupped the younger woman's jaw and leaned down.

"Look at me," words firm like her grip, "don't get lost in your head, alright?!"

Did she actually understand what the acolyte was going through? No, she couldn't, but Arris battled with thoughts of her own thoughts, and had picked it up over the years when she saw such conflict in others. Not everyone in the gutter was good at reading, but fair or not, it was a necessary tool for survival.

Her thoughts screamed one phrase, over and over again. Shoot to kill. Shoot to kill. Shoot to kill. Shoot to kill. Shoot to--

She let go of Neriah and held her hand back - a promise of its absence and any hurt it might have represented.

Then she took a few steps back and carried a look of her own confliction. "You did not hesitate to kill today...

"That's all it ever takes, isn't it?" She chuckled disingenuously. "Remember that, yeah? If something threatens you - if it stands in the way, you draw first, and you pull first... let the Force sort the rest."

Arris turned her back to Neriah and walked down the hall towards the reactor. "Once the reactor is primed you will activate it from the control room," her words echoed back down the hall before she was out of sight.

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

As soon as her jaw had been grabbed, Neriah braced herself for a sudden spout of pain. Bracing herself for pain that didn't seem to come that had surprised the Acolyte, as she stared at Arris with a confused gaze. Her eye flicking over towards the hand that hadn't struck as she tried to wrap her head around this. It didn't make any sense to her. Why wasn't she getting hurt? That's all she learned from the Academy. All she learned from the other Sith. That she'd get hurt. Again. And again.

"...Killing isn't anything special. It's not hard. It's inflicting pain that is."

Neriah didn't elaborate on what she meant. Instead dragging her feet along the ground as she made her way over towards the control room, keeping a hand on her lightsaber. She didn't trust this place. There was something here. Something that was waiting for them. Perhaps it was Neriah's paranoia making the worst out of her, but it had to be the case. Whatever had affected that Gamorrean was waiting for them. If this was some kind of horror-vid, it'd either show up when they split up...or when the lights went back on. Whatever would make for the most impact. But this wasn't some kind of horror-vid. It was something worse. Real life.

She shook her head to dismiss said thoughts as Neriah arrived in the control room, closing the door behind her...and pressing a chair up against the thing. If someone tried to open the door whilst she was distracted, Neriah would end up hearing it and be able to react. She just had to wait for Arris to deal with the reactor.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Neriah's headspace remained on the cyborg's mind as she descended the facility and arrived at the reactor room without incident. She set down her chemlight and dusted off the local console, then connected her implanted cyberjack. The viewscreen lit up with ancient data and a fast scrawl of errors.

"Great," Arris muttered to herself.

This would've been hard had she not familiarized herself with dated systems like this in her youth. One thing you could count on in this galaxy is that little ever changed. Droids still ran on binary, as they had for thousands of years; the reactor was old, but not unfamiliar. A few basic injections and she bypassed the need for credentials and safety checks.

She closed her eyes and reached out through the Force, following the dataline from her console to the control room upstairs. A moment later, its own screen awoken, and on it a series of events transpired: it bypassed login and fooled the initial check-ups, until a singular round button lit up on the control panel.

Screen output: {{Reactor primed and awaiting ignition.}}

That single glowing button began to flash.

As soon as it was activated, the reactor hummed to life and emergency power swept throughout the facility, illuminating every room with a dim orange light.

It was "so far, so good" until a clamoring of concerning mechanical sounds erupted outside the building. On Neriah's viewscreen, the system reported in. Too few of the pylons had successfully activated; the rest had stalled or shorted out due to age (they couldn't handle the initial surge). Without them all active, the station would be unable to generate sufficient power.

Arris's voice came through a speaker on the control desk. "Meet me outside. I'll need your help," she said.

This is where the "why" of it all came in - Arris had a hunch this exact situation would happen... well, none of the stuff like the strange odor or the Gamorrean, but the stuff that happened inside the facility.

Once the acolyte met her outside, the cyborg grinned at her and then looked up at the towering pylons. For the ones that fired correctly, they emitted and received stable tendrils of electrical energy, almost like wires. The ones that failed? Some of them sparked, others bristled with flares of lightning, but none formed a connection.

"I saw what you did on Desevro," she began, "I think all they need is a jolt to finish what they started."

It was a vague answer, as any, but she expected the young woman would pick up what she was putting down, even if it was impractical, insane, and liable to kill one or both of them.

Neriah Calven

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

Of course, Neriah didn't know what was going on. She was just pacing back and forth in frustration. Left in the silence. Left with her own thoughts that were threatening to get louder and louder if there wasn't something to distract herself with. Back and forth. Over and over again. It wasn't healthy. Neriah knew that. But she no longer got a choice in doing what was healthy for her. She might as well be dead. Dead to the Galaxy. Dead to everyone who had been important to her. Forgotten about and discarded.

Then the screen came on. Thank the Force. They'd be able to get out of her-...

"Oh for..."

Things just couldn't be easy for her. No. Things had to be broken. Stupid mechanical pieces of junk. Pieces of electronic trash. Why were they even doing this in the first place? To help people out on Nar Shaddaa? Kark 'em. Leave them to their devices. Let them die in the darkness. They weren't special. In the past, Neriah's thoughts would have worried herself. Would have scared her and reminded her of the dark path she was heading down, but for her, it was the only path she had. The only choice she had, so she never looked for an alternative path. Another train of thought. Nope. Neriah's thoughts were on a one way track into the Dark.

And so she headed off outside, returning Arris' grin with just a void expressoin of her own. Her gaze flickering over towards the pylons as Arris mentioned the plan. It was a simple enough plan. Arris wanted Neriah to "jumpstart" the pylons for lack of a better term. She could do that. She had the frustration. The anger. Neriah knew how to manipulate the Force in the right way to bend it, to twist it to what she wanted it to do...And so she found herself with two choices.

She could overload the Pylons. It would more than likely kill her and Arris. But the resulting overload could cause more of a domino effect. Affect other parts of Nar Shaddaa. Inflict more pain on the people of this Force-Forsaken moon she couldn't give two karks about. She could go out with a bang. Prove that she wasn't some kind of underdog like everyone thought...but what would it ultimately achieve? Nothing. She'd still be forgotten. No matter what she did, no-one would remember her.

And so she went with the second choice. Controlling the amount of power she used. Neriah wordlessly lifted her hand up towards the pylons, taking in a steady breath as she tried to fuel her frustrations. Her anger. Not to overwhelm herself, but so she could control it. She was in control of her emotions. Not the other way around. At least that's what she liked to believe as she launched a crackle of Lightning towards the pylons. Having the energy travel through the metallic structures, as a few stray beads of sweat fell down her face.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

"What gives?"

It seemed Neriah was still conflicted. One moment, the acolyte seemed distant, almost angry at everything, and the next she played along and leaned into the joke. Was her heart and mind truly so inconsistent, or was Neriah adapting to the role? It wouldn't have been the first time Arris experienced this from an acolyte; Kirie had acted much that way when the cyborg confronted her not long after the beanbag incident.

Still, unlike Kirie, this one hadn't tried to run away, and she didn't resort to appeasements - no, she did as she was told. To survive.

With her arms across her chest, Arris watched as Neriah poured the chaos and tension within into lightning. Each strike toppled a dam, creating a path for the energy to follow in arc after arc towards one pylon and the next. She wasn't sure what kind of impact it had on the acolyte, for she never tried such a feat herself. Could she? The cyborg wondered if she wouldn't just fry herself inst--

"Shit!" Arris was a fool!

Her cybernetics were largely designed to avoid sensitive conduction, but with this much static being generated, there were those precious bits that could. Just as Neriah activated the final pylon, a tendril of electric energy danced forth and made contact with her chest. It immediately seared and blew open her synthflesh, striking the thin armor plates underneath and dissipating deeper into the body. The strike sent Arris flying several feet before she landed on duracrete in the energy yard.

It went dark... and when Arris opened her eyes again, she hadn't a clue how long it had been. A second? A minute? Hours? She saw Neriah and could barely piece together the memory of why they were out here in the first place. Thankfully, her wits came back quickly, but so did her other senses. The blast must've overloaded her pain damper because she felt extreme pain radiate throughout her entire body, even summoning phantom limbs as if her cybernetics were made of meat.

"Aggahh... fuck!" She exclaimed, her voice crackled like a holocall over bad latency. It had damaged her synthesizer, too.

The cyborg struggled to sit up, but managed to on one knee. She looked at Neriah with steam radiating off her body and smoke from her wound.

"What the hell happened?"

Neriah Calven

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

Neriah knew it should have felt wrong. The pouring her frustration out. The electricity crackling between her fingers, the subtle stinging rushing through her hand. It should have felt awful. Horrendous. But...she was enjoying it. It made her feel powerful. She wasn't, Not really. They were plenty of people out in the Galaxy that could take a strike from her...but that didn't stop the slight smile. The curling of her lips as her gaze focused more and more on the crackling.

Yet her gaze flickered over towards Arris for a moment, a part of her wondering if it was a good idea for the cyborg to be so close to crackling electricity...Only for her fears to be proven right, as a sudden bolt that she didn't have control over leapt from the pylons, striking Arris directly and the sudden surprise caused Neriah's lightning to come to a halt.

Fear. That was the main thing going on in Neriah's mind as she watched Arris go flying through the air, the scent of burnt synth flesh wafting through the air...before Neriah kicked herself into action, rushing down to Arris' side, holding her hands out as she tried her best to heal...Though she tilted her head in surprise at some...logo for some gas company. No. She couldn't let herself get distracted. Instead, Neriah tried to heal through the Force...The efforts were fruitless however, since at the end of the day, synthflesh wasn't real. It couldn't be healed in the same way as regular flesh...and it also didn't help that Neriah had her own inner turmoil. It was harder for her to grasp onto the powers she had used as a Padawan, the further and further she descended into the darkness.

"Come...On...You can't...karking...die...I've already lost one...I can't lose another."

That was when Arris seemed to wake up however, exclaiming out in pain, causing Neriah to scramble backwards out of fear of punishment, raising her arms above her head as if to try and protect herself. Neriah wasn't brave. She was a coward, not even deep down. It was obvious...So one might ask, why did she not run when Arris had been knocked unconscious? Was it out of fear? No. It was out of a...strange sense of loyalty. Evident in what she had said. Arris might not be a master in the traditional sense, none of the instructors at the Academy were, but Neriah had already lost one teacher. She refused to lose another...

"I don't know what happened. I don't know how pylons and kark work! I was just going along with what you said!"

If it had been a joking suggestion from Arris to use Neriah's lightning...That joke had flew straight over her head.

​