Private Yeah, no, I'd rather not.

[Darth Nwul]

She woke in the tent, but the structure had changed a little. Instead of a simple twenty by ten command tent, it had been improved upon with what appeared to be wall placements and doors. The space she was resting in had been refitted into a medical bay in the corner. A physician-droid stood off to the side, monitoring her condition on a terminal. From where she sat, though, she could see that the rest of the original tent had been cleared out and converted into a meeting space and meditation area.

Sitting at one of the chairs was Yjome who looked like she was coming out of meditation. Her yellow eyes dimmed back into the black spots as she regarded Miri.

"You've been out for a few days," Yjome said, "You should go thank master when you're ready, he's outside."

The droid would fuss over her for just a minute, making sure all the nutrient injectors and medical equipment was safely disconnected and that her fever and condition were really back to normal before allowing her out of her seat. Though the droid would have little capacity to restrain someone like her at her full strength.

Outside the tent she would find what looked more like an archaeological research site than a humble tent. Mostly droids moved this way and that, observing things, though occasionally Darya would direct them and look at what they were examining. Sitting in the center of the massive subterranean library, amidst all of the activity, was Wake. He was cross legged and focused in a deep meditation. His clothing had carbon scores and long cuts, his face was stiff, and his hands were clutched tightly. An aura of determination, focus, and a whirlwind of emotions both positive and negative swirled in the air. The ashy remains of hundreds of specters lay scattered around him.

The aura would dissipate should she approach, and he'd open his eyes to look back at her, "Good morning sleeping beauty, enjoy your nap?" He asked with a sardonic smile.

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

Miri turned her hawklike gaze upon Yjome, then began yanking out the needles and wires attached to her, ignoring the machinery alarms and Binary protests of the droid. She wasn’t one to refuse free medical care, except when it came from Sith.

A little wobbly on her feet, she steadied herself and marched out of the tent, coming to a halt upon spotting Wake meditating on the ground. In the days she had been unconscious, the Sith had set up an entire research camp around her. No doubt they had begun to study the tomb. Probably they had found her “camp” deep inside the ruins. The thought of them rifling through her stuff set her teeth on edge, but it couldn’t be helped now.

Looking at Wake, with his sardonic smile, she felt such an intense wave of loathing toward him that her lips pulled back and she bared her teeth like an animal. Part of her hatred stemmed from the fact that she was at a profound disadvantage. He held all the power. He had taken away her weapons. He had entered her space and made himself at home while she was ill. She had to rely upon him for food, rest, medical care and safety.

She despised him. And almost loved him, in a strange, grateful sort of way.

Her expression relaxed, hiding her emotions. “I’m fine, thank you for asking.” A weirdly polite response, considering the circumstances, but Miri was nothing if not proper. Noticing the ashes dusting his clothes and the area around him, she asked, “What happened while I was out?”

Darth Nwul​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake's facial expression remained controlled as the intense emotions exploded from her. Rested, rejuvinated, her body healed, that was the first step. Already her emotions were stronger, she could feel more clearly, but it was still hollow and mixed up, he wondered if she was struggling to identify what each emotion even was. His eyes twinkled as a wave of gratitude bubbled alongside the loathing, a resentment born of dependence. As healthy and hale as whe was, her spirit felt like powder at this point.

Now it was time to melt it down and forge it anew.

Wake looked back at himself and at the ashes before shrugging and laying down on the ground, resting his hands behind his head and glancing up at her like a young man relaxing beneath a tree on a grassy field. "It's been a good few days, four or so, you had a lot going on. You certainly kept poor M3-FS busy, that's for sure," He laughed and brushed a bit of ash off of one spot only for it to get into another spot, it didn't seem to bother him though. "I've been out here for most of it, the tombs spirits have been trying to get into the tent for a while now, they're quite cross with you. I'm guessing you're the one that popped the seal?"

He let the matter drop, "It's fine, it was a good work out, we found your little campsite by the way, I ordered my droids not to go rifling through your things, you were under my protection at the time after all," he said and sat back up, turning his head away and staring up at the distant honeycomb-like shelves that were being examined by the droids. He set his jaw, "I'll be damned if some pathetic ghost destroys something I have decided to protect," he muttered before scratching his head and letting out a sigh. "Theres a pair of shower stalls on the right side of what used to be the tent, get cleaned up, I'm going to do the same,"

He looked her in the eyes, "After that, you can make your decision," He said and got to his feet. He let the words hang in the air as he walked past her.

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

Four days. Miri took a deep breath then let out in a silent, controlled sigh.

"I've been out here for most of it, the tombs spirits have been trying to get into the tent for a while now, they're quite cross with you. I'm guessing you're the one that popped the seal?"

“The tomb was already open when I arrived,” she replied. “Probably they came after me because I was weak. Easy prey.”

He mentioned the campsite, but said they hadn’t gone through her things. Some of the tension in Miri released. “Thanks.”

"I'll be damned if some pathetic ghost destroys something I have decided to protect."

Why? She wanted to ask. I’m no use to you. Instead she smiled and said nothing.

She was thinking about whether or not the shower would be safe, and if she could trust not to be knifed by the likes of Yjone or some other Sith while she was shampooing her hair, when he mentioned a decision that she would have to make. He walked past her before she could ask what he meant.

Straightening up, she walked over to the showers. Her clothes were filthy, and returning to her ship was not possible, so she hunted for a change of clothes, eventually locating a set of black robes. Better than nothing.

Soon she was clean and dressed and standing near where Wake had been meditating. In the absence of a brush to tame her curly hair, it went wild as it dried, forming thick coils around her face and shoulders. She had removed her contact lenses, instead wearing a pair of mousy glasses.

Darth Nwul​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake was waiting for her at his meditation spot, a pair of archeological overseer droids were standing nearby, they were odd-looking, with thin spider like arms that stretched out on either side of their repulsorlift supported body. They were projecting images in front of him while his back was turned. His just-shy-of-medium jet black hair was pulled back for once, styled a bit. Instead of the simple dark robes, he wore a black cassock with a thick red cardinal sash that wrapped around his waist before ending in long narrow red tassels that hung to the ground. He had his hands gripped behind his back, his high collar making him look a bit taller, thin, narrow.

Punctuating it all was the subdued aura around him, a storm of emotions, positive and negative, rumbling beneath a chilling darkness that was disturbingly pure. There was no hate fueling it, instead of the red aura of a sith, it was black like the starry sky.

Wake smiled at the images being displayed, "Magnificent work, continue to catalogue the remaining works and proceed with the final map. Use deep penetration sensors, it's fine, I'm certain that there's a few hidden rooms here-its a bit of a bad habit of the ancient sith. Look for architectural inconsistincies with previously mapped tombs and temples," Wake said casually, raising a hand and gesturing. The two droids hurried away to order the tiny probes that they commanded to work. Wake lowered his hands and turned around to greet Miri. The wear and tear on his face was gone, and the shimmering emerald green of his eyes had been replaced by a brilliant glowing molten gold.

He hesitated, his eyebrows rising, "Ah..." He caught himself, surprised, that was an interesting reaction. He analized the emotion he felt, a sudden stopping in his throat, a warmth, a start despite knowing that she was present. Oh, that was it. He let out a breath and consumed the feeling, adding it to the spectrum that surrounded him. He never hid what he was feeling. Instead, he just raised an eyebrow and put his hands on his hips, giving her an impressed look; "Well! You certainly are beautiful aren't you?" He said and scratched his head.

"Caught me off guard, those glasses of yours are sneaky! The robes suit you too." He snorted out a laugh, wagging his finger at her before relaxing and drawing his hands together in front of his waist in a patient gesture. He inclined his head, "Well? Have you thought about my offer? At least enough to hear me explain what I intend to do?"

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

Wake was already there, looking at holograms presented to him by a pair of droids. Miri waited for him to finish, not seeing any point in disturbing him. When he finally faced her, he seemed startled. Probably the thick lenses on her glasses, which made her eyes look big and fish-like, she guessed. Or maybe her frightful hair.

"Well! You certainly are beautiful aren't you?"

She blinked, then gave him a funny look.

"Caught me off guard, those glasses of yours are sneaky! The robes suit you too."

Oh. The robes. Of course. “There was nothing else clean for me to change into,” she replied dryly, making sure he knew she didn’t dress like this because she wanted to. Certainly she didn’t do it for him. “And my contacts needed cleaning.”

"Well? Have you thought about my offer? At least enough to hear me explain what I intend to do?"

“So long as your offer doesn’t involve trying to convert me into a homicidal maniac, I will be happy to listen, Mr. Nayne,” she replied. "But first, may I please have something to drink? I'm parched." As one would be after having nothing to drink for four days.

Darth Nwul​

 

[Darth Nwul]

He brightened a little bit at her confused expression, he loved getting that kind of reaction out of people. Though he had to admit it was a little sad that she reacted that way to being referred to as pretty. The glasses were cute! Nothing wrong with thinking something was cute. At least in his opinion. He pressed his lips together and tilted his head into a knowing grin when she tried to excuse the outfit.

"Well it looks good, and you should keep the glasses, and the hair," He shrugged, "You have a scholarly look this way, I find it appealing," Wake said with a laugh as he gestured to a droid. "Get her something to drink," He ordered before returning his attention to her.

"Is being a homicidal maniac in your nature, Ms. Nimdok?" He asked curiously, "Because if it isn't then I don't think you'll have anything to worry about in that respect. Let me be clear about what I'm going to do. I'm going to use the force to, gently at first, assist you in opening to your emotions and feelings again. Help you bust open that dam of yours. It will be jarring, taxing, and obviously emotional, which is why you need to be healthy for it."

He continued the explanation as the droid returned with a waterskin. He handed it to her, "Think of it like a guided meditation. One of the most difficult parts to overcoming trauma is the trauma itself. So we're going to bypass it a little. I am going to make you feel your repressed emotions, all of them. You need to acknowledge them for what they are and accept them. They are as much you as the synapses in your brain, they make up your identity," he trailed off and glanced at the shelves.

"They say acceptance is the first step, though you would be right to be concerned. I will not lie to you, the method by which I channel the dark side is not dissimilar to this process. It is quite liberating. I am not like my kin, I accept every emotion I feel and use it to empower myself. Love, Hate, Joy, Rage, Kindness, Pride, Comfort, Jealousy, the entire emotional spectrum is my weapon of choice. I suppose thats why I seem perhaps a bit more in control while simultaneously strange compared to other Sith," He ended his scholarly lecture with a wide smile in her direction.

"So what do you think?"

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

“I don’t like it,” Miri replied. She preferred to be glamorous. The scholarly look was her father’s thing.

Was it nice to be complimented? Yes. But by him?... She didn’t want to like him, didn’t want to preen herself for his pleasure. She thought of Kyell, but thinking of him only brought her pain. She didn’t want to feel pain, even if that meant being numb to everything.

"Is being a homicidal maniac in your nature, Ms. Nimdok?"

There were several incidents in her past which would suggest the answer to that question was yes. Miri did not answer.

Wake went on to explain his techniques. Initially she wanted to argue, to demand how he could claim to know what was wrong with her while knowing so little about her, but as he went on and she gave it some more thought, she began to understand. “You want me to confront my demons,” she said. “Is that it?”

All the things she kept locked away, unable to deal with them, would be brought out into the open. Such a thing would either break her beyond repair, or make her stronger. It was a harsh method, but if it worked…

"So what do you think?"

“You’ve already begun to unlock the secrets of the tomb,” she said, gesturing to the research camp around them. “So you don’t need me to tell you about it. I assume you want something else in exchange for helping me.” Sith generally did nothing out of kindness. Wake might be unusual among his brethren, but that didn’t mean he would work for free.

Darth Nwul​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake nodded at her when she gave her analysis; "In a way, yes, but we won't be going through the individual moments or anything like that, though you may have some hallucination and visualization," Wake warned, nodding a few more times as he walked past her. He could see the recognition on her face, it was indeed a harsh method, a very sith method in breaking someones chains with their past and their emotional deprivation. But it tended to be successful.

He chuckled when she pointed out that he was obviously expecting something from her in return. He scratched his head and shrugged; "I suppose, people tend to trust a transaction more than a gift. I get that," He scratched his head. He didn't really care about recompense, she'd do it on her own more than likely after the procedure so it wasn't really worth asking. He frowned and screwed up his face in thought before clapping his hands together.

"How about the locations of a few sith temples to study, if you know any, that's more than worth this exchange I imagine," He said delightedly, "If that works for you..." He gestured to the spot where he'd been meditating, "You can sit here."

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

His suggestion wasn’t too much to bear, though she was leery of giving this man more access to Sith materials.

So why did she then proceed to tease him with the prospect of more, if she didn’t intend to give it to him?

“The location of one Sith temple,” she replied, then smirked. “You’ll have to do better than a therapy session if you want more. And I do have much, much more, Mr. Nayne. My father was an archaeologist who specialized in Jedi and Sith relics. Not only did he bring me along with him, I inherited all of his research.”

He gestured to the spot where he had been meditating. Miri studied the area. “Will I have privacy here?” she asked. “I’d rather not have your droids or your daughters watch me.” Especially Yjone.

Darth Nwul​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake blinked, taken aback by her comment. He drew his hand away from her for a moment in genuine surprise. Then his lip twitched. Oho. Ohoho. He broke into a wide grin and eyed her with mischief in his eyes; "Challenge accepted, Miss Nimdok," He laughed, "I knew I'd like you the moment I laid eyes on you, wow, now we're talking!"

He took a step back and drew up a breath, "My daughters aren't stupid enough to go spying on me while I perform this rite. They know how difficult it is and wouldn't dare try to distract me or peek, now would they?" He demanded aloud. There was a scurry somewhere behind a column and a pair of footsteps rushing away from the spot. He laughed, "The droids won't come near unless called, satisfied?"

With that he plopped himself onto the ground across from her, holding out both hands. He looked up at her; "I sensed you thought of something that brought you pain just a moment ago, you quashed it quite quickly. A lover, perhaps, given the sense of the ache?" He said evenly widening his senses to wrap around her. He opened himself to the force, the dark side billowing out of him. It was not the icy hate of a traditional sith. No, he was an emormous flame of passion and zeal. His voice became steadier as his shoulders straightened. "Sit, broken soul, and warm yourself next to my fire," He rumbled.

"You no longer need to run away, for now, just open yourself to yourself, it is time to feel again," He whispered and extended his fingers. "Take my hands."

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t get some satisfaction from seeing his lip twitch and his surprise, though delighted, reaction. Finally she had some advantage over him, even if it was only good as a bargaining chip.

He scared off any spies lurking nearby. “Thank you,” she said, then sat.

Though he held out his hands, she didn’t immediately take them. He was asking about her lover and her pain. Miri frowned. “I was thinking about the father of my children,” she admitted after a lengthy pause. “He said things would be all right, but I knew they weren’t. So I left, for his sake and the children’s.”

As she spoke, she felt Wake’s heat engulfing her. He would find considerable resistance, strong defenses she had been trained to build when she was younger. But the warmth of the fire soon relaxed her, and she lowered those barriers to let him in, taking his hands.

The first emotion she felt was pain. All her instincts screamed at her to raise those barriers again, to protect herself. It took considerable effort, but she did not give in even when the grief and heartbreak became overwhelming.

She had lost loved ones, either to death or their own self-destruction. Her father. Her mother. Vaslav, Kyell, Starlin. Her friends had proven unreliable. She couldn’t even trust herself anymore. She was alone, carrying burdens too great for any one person to bear, and it had broken her. So she ran away from it all...

Darth Nwul​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake let his warmth burst outward, the heat of the dark side wrapping itself around the two of them in a fiery embrace. The flames took form, but did not burn them. His eyes glowed faintly, the emerald green slowly shifting towards a deep yellow. He let the dark side work through him as he reached inside of her, feeling her emotions, her turmoil, her confusion, her self-loathing. There were feelings there that she didn't understand and those that she knew the source of painfully well.

Pain, yes pain usually came first in this case. Yjome felt pain, unbearable pain, during her awakening. Grief and hearbreak, Wake experienced them and let himself breathe, the first wave of emotions was always rocky. He didn't speak as he guided those raw, exposed emotions out to the surface first. Her flights, her self-imposed cowardice, her sense of loss, her betrayals both percieved and real. Illusory feelings that broke down her emotional state. Then there were the Jedi teachings which professed distancing.

It was a perfect storm to traumatize someone.

Wake held nothing back, her challenge to him ringing in his ears. His voice was low, his eyes blazing, as he began the ritual in earnest. "I have joined with your emotions and given them strength again," Wake began, "What you are feeling is at the surface, the emotions you are most aware of, the raw feelings in your day to day life. Your open burdens," He explained, holding her hands tightly, "Take it slow and acknowledge them. It is your right to feel, Miri Nimdok. It is your right to experience. Your emotions are valid, all of them."

His voice came out as a rumble, the sound of the world around them fell away, light faded, all that was present was the two amidst a storm of power and feeling. "Identify your feelings, name them, accept them as part of you. You own them. They are yours. Fuel for the furnace inside of you, let the emotions happen," He breathed, and began to feed positive emotions into her, using his power to encourage certain emotions to bloom. While he was technically tricking her brain into experiencing these feelings, in this state her mind would find the memories that she associated them with. His goal was simply to remind her what it felt like.

"Curiosity," He whispered, "Joy," He continued, "Comfort," he pushed, drawing the feelings up and out of her, "Love," He blessed her with an intense feeling of love, easing her spirit through the process, "These are half of your foundation, accept where they come from inside of you, let them out. Let them all out and flood you, they will be there when we draw the negativity to the surface as well... let me hear you accept them," He droned quietly, his eyes lingering on her face.

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

“No, I…” she rasped, struggling against his urging to validate what she was feeling now. “If I do that, then it’s true. I am a bad person, an evil person. All of it is true…”

A murderer. A liar. A cheat. Vindictive and vengeful, opportunistic and greedy, cruel and sadistic. A failed Jedi. An insult to her father’s legacy. Too much like her mother, in far too many ways.

The ugliness she found inside herself was too hideous to look at. Yet Wake was making her face it. To acknowledge that she wasn’t good, that would take strength. In a way, it was the right thing to do. It would allow her to move forward.

But she couldn’t do it. Not alone, anyway.

Slowly, Wake started to introduce other things to the mix which softened the blow to her self-image. It was simple enough—he was reminding her that she was capable of good as well. But if both could exist inside her, what was she? Neither good nor evil?

"These are half of your foundation, accept where they come from inside of you, let them out. Let them all out and flood you, they will be there when we draw the negativity to the surface as well... let me hear you accept them."

“Yes,” she whispered.

There were no shining beacons of perfect morality for her to fail to measure up to, nor were there foul monsters she was at risk of devolving into every time she made a mistake. She could do both. What mattered was what she did, not who or what she was.

Was Wake doing this to her, making her think this way? Even if he was, she didn’t want to stop.

Darth Nwul​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake's eyes grew more intense, the glow getting brighter as the force built around them. He could feel those thoughts and misgivings, those self-deprications, those fears, as close as he was to her mind he could taste them all. He pressed his thumb against her knuckles and leaned forward, "You did what you had to do, to survive, regret nothing, only that what you didn't do. It was right in the moment, wasn't it?" He encouraged her, forcing her to face her feelings and acknowledge them. She was committed to the process now, but the positivity would help.

She breathed out an affirmation and he smiled gently, "Good, good," He nodded slowly. He closed his eyes and let his head lull backwards, "The galaxy is alive, nature is everywhere around us. From the trees that grow around this tomb to the beasts that crawl between them and deep inside of our own minds and bodies. Nature is brutal and unfair, it is beauiful and stunning, it is chaos and it is order, it is so glorious and wonderful," He exhulted, "Nature is alive, it is feeling, and it fills us with love and fascination when we really look on it."

"It's only natural that we accept our feelings, that we experience and emote. But we are higher beings, sapient life forms, we can look objectively at what we feel. We are capable of acknowledging our feelings and working through them so that we are cognizant of them but they no longer overwhelm us," He guided her, letting each positive memory that began to blossom in her mind flow through her. "You don't need to be reminded of the good times, remind yourself, those are your memories, your feelings. You own them!"

He pressed his thumbs a bit tighter around her knuckles, steadying her for what comes next. "It is okay to feel sad, it is alright to feel angry, it is understandable to want to decieve and to cheat, vengeance is natural, greed is an extension of the desire to prosper, sadism is in all of us, fear is our natural reaction to danger. It is healthy, it is necessary for survival. It's okay, Miri. It's okay to feel. Breathe."

He began to introduce negativity, attempting to force through the dams of repression.

"Let it all out, if you must cry, then wail, if you must scream, then howl, if you must curse and rage, let your fury scorch the world, if you just need a shoulder, I am here to guide you, feel them as they burst forth, every negative memory and emotion, every tear, every moment of anger, don't hide from them. Let it all out," His whisper sounding like an all encompassing voice.

"It's okay. It's alright. You deserve to feel," He intoned.

"Now name your feelings, you saw my daughter do it before, I'll give you an example; 'I feel proud of Miri, I acknowledge that I feel this way and the emotion is mine'." He instructed.

The ritual was in its primary phase. Now it was up to her.

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

"You did what you had to do, to survive, regret nothing, only that what you didn't do. It was right in the moment, wasn't it?"

“I… don’t know,” she admitted. That was part of the problem. She looked back on her actions and wasn’t sure if she did the right thing.

She thought of Hacks taking control of Kyell’s prosthetic arm and forcing him to point the emitter of his lightsaber at himself. That had enraged Miri. But the reason Hacks did it in the first place was because Miri had burned her alive with incendiary ammo—overkill even in the best of circumstances.

Yet it had felt good to reduce a criminal to a lump of charred flesh and superheated metal. The harpy had deserved it. If only she could’ve done something similar to Sahar , who had evaded confrontation, or to Vector Monk , whom she thought she had killed only for him to reappear in the galaxy later on, quite alive and well…

If anything, she hadn’t done enough to make these bastards suffer. She wished she could have done more. It was so unfair. So unfair…

"Let it all out, if you must cry, then wail, if you must scream, then howl, if you must curse and rage, let your fury scorch the world, if you just need a shoulder, I am here to guide you, feel them as they burst forth, every negative memory and emotion, every tear, every moment of anger, don't hide from them. Let it all out."

She was crying out of frustration. The unfairness had gotten to her more than anything. Her enemies’ refusal to die. The fact that they got away with killing or hurting the people she loved. Oh, she would never understand why Vaslav had to die, but at least she could take some solace in knowing that his murderer was dead and gone, the threat he posed neutralized. But in this cruel galaxy, the enemy was never truly eradicated. They always came back to hurt you some more.

"It's okay. It's alright. You deserve to feel."

How dare the people of the galaxy accept this insanity. Even the self-professed “good guys” treated tyranny and genocide like it was normal. Billions died, and they forgot about it within a few weeks. It was only a statistic. Even when the destruction hit close to home, they ran away. They fled, thinking only of their own miserable, pathetic lives…

She hated it! She hated it all! She wanted the chaos to stop! Everything to just stop!

But it wouldn’t stop. It would never stop. All she could do, all anyone could do, was whatever they had to. Survive, take what you need, protect those you love… She couldn’t. She couldn’t protect a planet. She couldn’t even protect Kyell. How could she protect her babies, then? How could she protect anyone without power?

"Now name your feelings, you saw my daughter do it before, I'll give you an example; 'I feel proud of Miri, I acknowledge that I feel this way and the emotion is mine'."

Miri opened her eyes and looked at Wake. “You talk too much,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him.

Darth Nwul​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake felt her emotions boiling, her feelings pushing out past their barriers. She was beginning to see the world again and feel all the feelings she had bottled up. Her mind was drawing its own conclusions. He didn't have to press on her or manipulate her. As soon as the repression of the jedi, the veil of delusion, was lifted. She saw that first glimpse of clairty. That's all it took. There was no trick, there was no secret dark-side poison, no, the dark side was the natural order of things. The light was the sterile abomination.

Someone as strong as Miri felt it. Truth came hard, tears, anger, pain, those negative emotions were hard to conquer, and sometimes it drove people do do foolish things. Wake opened his eyes as he felt something bubbling inside of her, an emotion she was embracing, she was feeling it with her wholeness as he provided her with the feeling of love that he artificially created. His lip twisted into a cruel smile and he reached out to cup her chin as she leaned forward.

He returned her movement and drew in close, his blazing yellow eyes matching the inferno of power around them. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Miri?" He whispered, "Are you strong enough to be my attachment? The only people who deserve attachments in this life are the ones strong enough to protect them and wise enough to strengthen those attachments. Are you strong enough to not be a chain for me, Miri?" He purred, running a thumb over her lips. "Do you want to be?"

He kissed her cheek, then ran his hand down her face and to her hands again, raising one up to kiss her knuckle. "Miri, we're not done, let me heal you-" He whispered, he didn't care if in the moment it sounded almost hypnotic, "-then you can embrace those feelings of yours with me."

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Miri?"

She groaned impatiently as he stopped her. "Is 'Mood Killer' one of your Sith titles, Mr. Nayne?" she asked.

"The only people who deserve attachments in this life are the ones strong enough to protect them and wise enough to strengthen those attachments. Are you strong enough to not be a chain for me, Miri? Do you want to be?"

Artificially created emotions or not, she was under no illusions. He didn't love her, nor did she love him. They were attracted to one another, and if it ever became more than that, such feelings would take time to grow. Besides, he had every right to question her motives. Her attempt to kiss him had been rather abrupt, after all.

"Yes. I want you," she replied. "And power. When I was a child I wanted to be a Sith so that I would be powerful enough to kill those who had wronged me and protect the ones I love. When I grew up, I dismissed that dream, disillusioned by the pointless evil of mainstream Sith. But now it seems as if my simple childhood ideas were the correct ones. I just needed to find you to see that."

While he kissed her cheek, she whispered in his ear. "If you let me embrace you, I'll embrace all of what you are. A Sith who isn't merely an agent of chaos. I not only want you, I want to be like you. I want to be what you are, see what you see, love what you love…"

"Miri, we're not done, let me heal you—"

He brought her hand to his mouth. She rested a finger against his lips. "I think this will be far more healing than anything you could do to me, Mr. Nayne," she said, lowering her hands to his shoulders. "But finish what you started. I won't interrupt again."

Darth Nwul​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake snorted out a brusque laugh and tilted his head, looking her square in the face. "You don't yet know what you want," He said cooly. Her emotions were on the greatest high they had ever been. He was flooding her body with a mixture of positivity and negativity. She was exploding with feeling and her strength and awareness was returning to her. This physiological reaction was not just possible, he'd expected it. He took her hands from his shoulders and let out a breath.

"Then grow strong for me Miri. Grow strong, and claim the right to be at my side one day. Fight, compete, struggle, see the galaxy, wonder at its beauty and ferocity-" Images burned into her brain, volcanoes erupting, pulsars collapsing in on themselves, grassy meadows, laughing people at a festival. Beauty and viciousness, violence and wonder. His eyes grew hot, his expression somewhere between heat and malice, he looked her square in the eyes when she finally consented to him continuing.

"Good girl," he murred with a wry smile, "Now this is going to hurt."

---

The next day, Miri would find herself sitting in that place as if she had been meditating for hours. Her body may very well feel as if she had been wrung out, stretched, and compressed over and over by a construction droid. More importantly, all of her emotions were liberated. There was no unease when thinking about the past, the feelings were there, but they were easy to manage and draw from. It wasn't comfortable, there was pain, but there also wasn't resistance. That is what Wake wanted for her when she awoke.

The intense emotions of the ritual would have long since faded, leaving only her, free.

Wake was not far away, working through the motions of the first form of lightsaber combat with a practice saber. He kept his real weapon at his hip as he stepped through each stage, methodically swinging the weapon in those wide and deliberate arcs. He was bare chested, scar tissue and tattoos in dozens of languages crossing over his skin. His gaze utterly focused. Nearby, his daughters sat in meditative poses, watching him and following his every movement as if they were listening to a teacher lecture. Their eyes utterly unblinking.

Wake stopped as he finished another pattern and turned to look at Miri, "It feels like learning to breathe again, doesn't it?" He asked without preamble, a cool smile on his face.

Miri Nimdok

 

[Miri Nimdok]

When Miri awoke, she cursed the name of Wake Nayne.

What she was experiencing was reminiscent of a really bad hangover—multiplied times a thousand. For several minutes she could do nothing but lay there, unable to move at first, before she finally rolled over with a groan and threw up in the grass.

Wiping her mouth, she focused on her breathing, utilizing one of the techniques her father had taught her long ago to recover her wits. The Force was easier to access, but her connection felt as if it had been scraped raw.

Through bleary eyes she spotted Wake performing katas in the distance. Immediately she was hit by a wave of annoyance, mainly directed at herself. She remembered quite well how she had behaved earlier, and was extremely glad he had not taken advantage of her emotional vulnerability. Because boy did he seem like the most unattractive man in the universe now that she had regained her senses.

Staggering to her feet, she walked towards him. Her gaze flicked briefly toward the seated Darya and Yjone, but they didn't seem interested in her.

"It feels like learning to breathe again, doesn't it?"

If looks could kill, the glare Miri shot his way would've vaporized him into ash.

"There is a collection of rare artifacts located in a hidden fortress on Lothal," she said, her tone and manner far more brisk and businesslike now. This was Miri as she had once been, a mercenary adventurer with a taste for ancient relics and a ruthless streak. "I killed the owner a while back; the collection has been collecting dust ever since. I'll send you the coordinates before I leave."

Darth Nwul​