Consolidation Litanies of the Dark Side: Souls of the Damned [DC Dagobah Hex Defence Upgrade]

[K-2]

"Acknowledged. Request granted. Collect target to proceed."

K-2 was incapable of feelings. In its mainframe, the calculations ran perpetually from its creation, to the moment it would be deactivated, either by loss of energy or by falling in combat. The request of ADJ-100 was not irrational. Therefore, K-2 obliged.

As the cage's door was openned, many of the marauders spat curses, demanding of the death of the Jedi, to their dissappointment. K-2 cleared a path. The orders were clear. And ADJ-100 had performed efficiently enought to be preserved for active deployment.

"Gear to be attained after delivery of target. Action expected imminently."

K-2 had learned that testing had to be direct and fast-paced, to secure efficiency. Being a prototype, ADJ-100 was of questionable performance, though K-2 could not doubt the effectiveness of the creator's programming. Trial, alas, was mother to success, he used to say. K-2 saw wisdom in that phrase, and thus chose to improvise in order to save time and resources instead of simply waiting for the coming battle to observe technical or programming defficiencies of the new unit.

Thusfar, it had reached expectations. Good news, considering the targets ADJ-100 was about to face soon enough...

There was little space for errors.

 

[The Adjudicator (ADJ-100)]

"Acknowledged. Request granted. Collect target to proceed."

K-2 was incapable of feelings. In its mainframe, the calculations ran perpetually from its creation, to the moment it would be deactivated, either by loss of energy or by falling in combat. The request of ADJ-100 was not irrational. Therefore, K-2 obliged.

As the cage's door was openned, many of the marauders spat curses, demanding of the death of the Jedi, to their dissappointment. K-2 cleared a path. The orders were clear. And ADJ-100 had performed efficiently enought to be preserved for active deployment.

"Gear to be attained after delivery of target. Action expected imminently."

K-2 had learned that testing had to be direct and fast-paced, to secure efficiency. Being a prototype, ADJ-100 was of questionable performance, though K-2 could not doubt the effectiveness of the creator's programming. Trial, alas, was mother to success, he used to say. K-2 saw wisdom in that phrase, and thus chose to improvise in order to save time and resources instead of simply waiting for the coming battle to observe technical or programming defficiencies of the new unit.

Thusfar, it had reached expectations. Good news, considering the targets ADJ-100 was about to face soon enough...

There was little space for errors.

Good.

It easily hoisted the unconscious Jedi onto their “shoulder” with one arm, before they marched out of the now open cage door. In its other hand it held the two vibro-blades, yet it began to wonder where the Jedi’s plasma blade was. Searching through its data banks, it understands that it is referred to as a “lightsaber”. It is yet another query that it will have for the good doctor.

“Acknowledged,” it replied via binary communication to HL-222 just before its frame disappeared from their view.

It innately knew where the doctor was alongside where the armory would be. The fortune of having encyclopedic knowledge of the ship embedded into its system. If it passed any onlookers on the way, it would ignore them as they were irrelevant. It moved with purpose until it finally had reached its destination: the creator’s laboratory.

Upon its optical scanners spotting the doctor, it would move to them and speak:
“Dr. Vein, your subject has been delivered, yet I have a proposal concerning them that could improve my efficiency.”

 

[Valia Muqai]

Kirki tilted her head to the side, her gaze never fixating on Valia, as if the latter's words were music Kirki was so anxious listening in, though the lyrics of the song, she knew well. A smile formed on her face, wide and wholesome, eventually being turned into a laughter all the more Valia spoke. Her voice demanding. Resisting. It felt most amusing to Kirki, regardless how perhaps predictable it was.

"Oh, how much you will enjoy this! The more the Defiance... the more the Loyalty."

As the lift's blast door openned, Kirki walked out with the same choreographic grace her pacing was characteristic of. Her hands extending to the sides as if part of her dance, as the square deck chamber led in a high twin blastdoor. Its frame crowned with what seemed to be an ancient Sith Warblade, wrapped in chains that intertwined with one another like serpents, before stretching out to the sides, forming wing-like shapes, welded on the durasteel of the wall.

"But what happens when there is nothing to be -loyal- to, oh my sweet Valie...!" Kirki inhaled, rising her arms up, as if gesturing toward the strange heraldry.

"Freedom!"

In a single, flowless motion, Kirki turned on her heels, her dress lashing by the momentum. Her hands gathered down like serpents pulled by gravity, as her eyes finally landed on Valia.

"You have grown in chains." her voice urging, caring as if weighted by care inexplicably blend with excitment.

"Like a Rancor, on Dathomir. Seeing their bondage as part of themselves so much, they feel naked without them... It is a familiar cage. But that makes sense if only you neglect one tinny thing..."

You aren't meant to live in cages. Are you?​

The longer Kirki went on, the more Valia felt her dislike of her grew. She didn't dislike her the same way she did with the other denizens of the ship, more that Valia found her unnerving. A complete juxtaposition to everything else on the ship, she almost felt that Kirki was performing some advanced form of trickery. On top of all that, the pureblood didn't seem to take her seriously either.

"Enough of this! I'm tired of hearing riddles and preaching of this and that. Speak plainly, what do you want from me? What do you intend to do with me?" Valia's eyes nervously landed on the blastdoor in front of them. Her tone was a mixture of both frustration and growing anxiety. Clearly, deeply wary of any unknowns within the ship after all that she had experienced.

 

[Dr. Eolai Vein]

Eolai Vein was in the laboratory of the ship, ironically situated rather close to the armoury the droids had access to. Whether this was deliberate, or an opportunity of scarce space onboard the Shadow's Avenger, it was yet unclear, though little Dr Vein did ever was based on chances. He believed not in such primitive superstitions. At the time ADJ-100 reached the man, Dr. Vein and the assisting medical droid had gathered several crates filled with stims, all lined up on the catwalk before the laboratory. Vein himself held onto a datapad, performing any last checks on his myriad lists prior to dispatch.

The ADJ-100's arrival brought a pause to the checking. The Doctor approaching the droid. His cybernetic eyes focused on the twilek held. In almost a mechanical motion, the doctor's gloved hand reached to the Twilek's neck, in an attempt to estimate the pulse.

"Pulse decreasing. Severe blood loss sustained." he pointed out.

"Put the specimen on the operation table quickly. We have no time." Vein instructed. His voice demanding, clad in cold efficiency deriving from the cybernetic voice chip that had replaced any organic source to the sounds produced in his throat. "MD-12, prepare for Terror Explantation." he demanded from the medical droid, which soon obeyed.

The Medbay was a circular open area around a main column filled with monitors and various hanging wires and tubulets, perhaps most of which attached to a main life support system. There were several operation tables, all cleared and prepared to accept a new batch.

"Secure arterial flow and run spider scan. There must be no specimen until after the operations conclude. Put him on SPC."

"Affermative" the medical droid spoke, reaching out to pick the Twilek from ADJ-100's grasp.

Dr Vein held his pace, as if putting on hold the ever-spinning organic processor he called brain, as the ADJ-100 spoke up. The cybernetic eyes fixating on the droid. It was clear, scanners ran continuously, as if evaluating everything and anything Vein rested his gaze on.

"A proposition? Proceed."

 

[Kirki Tyr'Opta]

The sudden outburst of Valia yielded yet another of Kirki's wide smiles.

"Oh, my, somebody likes it rought!" She chuckled. Her words as twisted as her very being, intent masquaraded in layers upon layers of obsession and perversion. "Then let us cut to the chase, shall we?" her hand reaching out to Valia's chin, caressing it as if she picked an invisible part of her, bringing her curled palm to her chest where whatever once took, now she stored.

"You've known anger. You hate it here. That is how the Dark Lord runs things... But that is the skin of the Nexu.... Here?" she stepped backward, each of her steps deliberately leading her ever closer to the blastdoor of the Sanctum, without her fiery eyes leaving Valia's even for an instant. Her body twisting, aligned with the continuous choreography of seduction even if none was there to bare witness. Her hands stretched up high. A clanking noise came from above the blastdoor, by the chains that motioned ever slightly as if tainted by a nonexistent wind that blew in the currents of the Force.

"Here you shall taste Power... Bathed in oceans of Ecstasy!"

In perfect synchrony, the twin blastdoors cracked into motion, openning to reveal the Sith Sanctum behind them. Ceilings high far above, durasteel walls illuminated by the crimson light blazing from lightsabers carved into statues of headless hands and flickering flames burning over torch stands made of black metal. Left and right, grande banners once marked with the emblem of the Sith Order hung defiled, branded by the seven-pointed Star of the Dark Crusade dyed by blood upon the tattared fabric.

The support beams all leading upward, with sharp corners bending them to aggressive shapes, while chandeliers made of welded weaponry hung by chains that adorned the ceiling like vines would in a cave.

"Come, child, fear no more..." Kirki turned in the same grace she walked, bending her waist with each of her steps, letting the white fabric of her dress to caress her motions into the dance enchanted. Her hands moving to the sides, as if taken by the foul energies that flowed within the Sanctum. Her fingers curling and stretching as part of her seductive chorus. "You were child, once, when you took the vows of the Jedi. You were younger, still, when you made the choice. When others, made the choice for you. Tear you from a life yet lived... Plunge you into a world of rules and celibacy, only to be fed to the maw of war, until you bled your last breath.... You know it's true... You yourself have thought of it more than once, have you not?"

"Chains and fire... That is all you know. Bound and broken, you have known nothing but Rules... Rules of the Jedi... Rules of the Mighty... Obey... Defend... Accept... Deny..." Her voice finding echoes the halls could not provide through any natural means, yet the Dark Side's taint so strong as to cause a wind in and of itself, causing chains to turn from the ceilings where they once hung and slither against the walls like living serpents, as if graced with life.

"There is no Peace... There is Passion..." Kirki sung, her aura of calling and of invitation embracing Valia in a warm wind that caressed her like a mother's hand. "Through Passion, you shall gain Strength..."

The chains slithered, motions elyptic, gradually making their way to Valia from seven different sides around her. Each in its own speed, each guiding her closer to the side of the Sanctum, as if having chosen one of the white marble pools for her already. Empty, rectangular, carved by masterful cuts and adorned by nothing but edged shapes in the Sith fashion. The chains led her still...

"Through Strength, you shall know Power..."

Kirki's voice a spell flawlessly cast, her motions a summoning so precisely performed.

"Through Power, you shall have Victory..."

Her hands motioning as if to touch a non-existent entity to her side. As her fingers reached out, her caressing sensible by Valia on her shoulder, regardless how far Kirki stood. Her touch warm, encouraging. Her eyes blazing fire. The Dark Side called. And Valia's name was spoken in the ether...

"Through Victory, your chains will be broken.... The Force shall set you free...."


Kirki halted her motions, as if freezing in time, the same moment the chains slithering to Valia's side had ascended upward, like snakes ready to bite. Waiting...

"Are you ready to be freed, Valia?"

 

[Valia Muqai]

Valia could feel it, heart it muttering her name. The familiar ice-cold caress of the dark side on her very soul. It felt both euphoric and utterly dreadful, this time, it was unlike the domineering darkness that the Dark Lord had that crushed against her mind, but Valia hated it all the same. She had submitted to the dark side once before, in her fight with the dark lord, but it did mean she wanted it or enjoyed the downside. To use it still felt like the greatest betrayal she had ever done, to herself and the Jedi Order she once considered herself part of.

Her steps into the Sith Sanctum were filled with hesitance, not wanting to enter yet forced to do so. Valia's gaze cautiously trailed around the room as if expecting invisible enemies to appear, never relaxing within the room itself. When Kirki chanted the Sith code, all Valia could do was cover her ears even if it didn't stop the dark whispers of her name within her mind, nor the wind that caressed her skin. No matter how warm and welcoming it felt, Valia hated it all the same, everything still felt wrong, unnatural, and foul.

"I want none of this. I don't need this. This is nothing more than a prison that you all force me to suffer through." She looked around as if seeking a means of escape, the chains surrounding her blocked even the mere idea of attempting to flee. If she had her lightsaber or caught site of a usable one, she would have used it by then.

"You, him, everyone on this foul place speak nothing but nonsense! None of you know you speak of, none of you could ever hope to understand the light the way I do! Every word you all speak is just some pathetic excuse for your lack of will." Desperate, fearful, angered, a hint of arrogance even, filled her words as Valia ranted against the fate she had been subjected to and still couldn't quite comprehend.

 

[Kirki Tyr'Opta]

The very attitude of Valia was interesting to Kirki. She laughed; She laughed on Valia's presistence. She Laughed on the little child, clinging on to an already broken past. The chains nearing Valia ever-closer, gradually narrowing the space available to within the marble pool. Kirki twisted her hands, holding her giggle as if she tried to refocus beyond the satisfaction and perhaps joy Valia caused to her.

"You know, little Valie... You know...!" she chuckled.

A single droplet fell against the white marble, forming a tinny splatter. Blood. It came from above, inbetween the hanging chains adorning the ceilings. Another blood drop dripped from the twitching leg of the hooked naked body amidst the chains, up to now perhaps overshadowed by them, now distinguished by its twitching and the parting of the chains surrounding it. There were more, scattered inbetween the chains, each in a different state of decay, hooked by sharp metal and left hanging above...

"You still hold onto the Jedi lies...? What good will it serve? They won't take you back. For them, you are now impure, despicable, even if you bleed every single body on this ship, you will be a Jedi no more..."

Kirki's motions twisting, exotic. Her words a spell, moving the chains around Valia with flawless precision.

"Now, you will be a Sith... Chained. Hopeless....!"

Her voice darkened, as the chains twisten in spirals, reaching in a sudden hurl to wrap around Valia's hands and legs. Their metal links cold, freezing to the touch on the skin, contrasting the warm, welcoming aura Kirki projected.

"Many died a Jedi, yet most lived long enough to become a Sith... The realization of the Chains the first barrier to break, little Valie..."

Her hand reaching out, her long nails touching under Valia's chin.

"Fear not... I will be there... I shall see you be stripped of all but chains... And then... Then we set you free...!"

 

[Valia Muqai]

A look of horror spread across Valia's face as her gaze moved up and witnessed the amalgamation of hanging bodies amongst the chains on the ceiling. Such a thing shouldn't surprise her anymore considering how common it was on the ship, but the sight still filled Valia with terror. Made all the worse by Kirki's disturbingly jovial laughing as if Valia wasn't being made to witness and experience the most horrific sights on the ship.

Valia desperately pulled against her chains in a futile attempt at escape, even when she attempted to use the force to unravel them from her limbs, it did not work. Kirki's words struck her like an ice cold dagger to the heart, for Valia believed them to be true deep down. Her jedi peers would gawk at ever welcoming her back into their Jedi Enclave ever again, after all she had been through, experienced, and the blasphemous usage of the dark side. Still, Valia refused to openly accept it then, if others could be brought back into the light then so can she.

"You know nothing!!" She yelled out as she pulled at her chains once more, feeling herself fueled by newfound anger and grief. "Every word that have come out of your mouths have nothing been lies and delusions. All of this torture, mad ramblings..." Valia trailed off, then began to sob, unable to contain her growing anguish any further. "I don't understand... Why does it have to be me? Why me!? I want none of this, I want no part of the dark side, I don't want to be a Sith! I've done nothing to deserve this punishment!" She wept on.

 

[The Adjudicator (ADJ-100)]

Eolai Vein was in the laboratory of the ship, ironically situated rather close to the armoury the droids had access to. Whether this was deliberate, or an opportunity of scarce space onboard the Shadow's Avenger, it was yet unclear, though little Dr Vein did ever was based on chances. He believed not in such primitive superstitions. At the time ADJ-100 reached the man, Dr. Vein and the assisting medical droid had gathered several crates filled with stims, all lined up on the catwalk before the laboratory. Vein himself held onto a datapad, performing any last checks on his myriad lists prior to dispatch.

The ADJ-100's arrival brought a pause to the checking. The Doctor approaching the droid. His cybernetic eyes focused on the twilek held. In almost a mechanical motion, the doctor's gloved hand reached to the Twilek's neck, in an attempt to estimate the pulse.

"Pulse decreasing. Severe blood loss sustained." he pointed out.

"Put the specimen on the operation table quickly. We have no time." Vein instructed. His voice demanding, clad in cold efficiency deriving from the cybernetic voice chip that had replaced any organic source to the sounds produced in his throat. "MD-12, prepare for Terror Explantation." he demanded from the medical droid, which soon obeyed.

The Medbay was a circular open area around a main column filled with monitors and various hanging wires and tubulets, perhaps most of which attached to a main life support system. There were several operation tables, all cleared and prepared to accept a new batch.

"Secure arterial flow and run spider scan. There must be no specimen until after the operations conclude. Put him on SPC."

"Affermative" the medical droid spoke, reaching out to pick the Twilek from ADJ-100's grasp.

Dr Vein held his pace, as if putting on hold the ever-spinning organic processor he called brain, as the ADJ-100 spoke up. The cybernetic eyes fixating on the droid. It was clear, scanners ran continuously, as if evaluating everything and anything Vein rested his gaze on.

"A proposition? Proceed."

“Indeed, they will die soon. This Jedi seemed to have a competency in the first form of light saber combat: something I would like to add to my database alongside all of the others eventually. I wish for the data to be siphoned from their mind and placed into my data banks. I shall relinquish them to you then to do with them as you wish. Do we have an accord?”

It did not relinquish the Jedi to the medical droid: not yet. It simply stared back at the doctor with its optical sensors.

Tag: @Dreadheart

 

[Kirki Tyr'Opta]

The chains bit on her skin like spikes buried in charcoal, burning by the crushing energies that bound them into the animated state they had adopted. The more she screamed, the more she resisted, the more potent whatever foul hand drove the chains became, as if feeding from her very horror. The chains stretched to extend her arms to the sides, while her legs became anchors to the pool that now was stained by multiple blood drop, dripping from above.

"Yes... yes!" Kirki laughed. Her voice twisted into a perverted form of overstimulated ecstasy, hearing Valia's pleas. Anything Valia said felt hollow, causing much different a reaction than intended. The sorceress danced to the music of terror in a sadistic demonstration of inevitability made manifest.

The torchflames flickered, fiery tongues of hatred twisted by currents of malice so strong they could be sensed by the very skin like wind. Claws, black and ethereal, emerged from the deck, reaching out to grasp Valia's mind as if she were the prey amidst an ocean of predators. The chains tightened.

Echoes of unspoken whispers rung in her mind. Echoes of pride. Echoes of envy. Echoes of lust... The Dark Side invading, through the blood of chained sin and punctured aspiration. Sockets emptied of eyes, crying out through the Force as if they were already part of Valia. As if she could feel the very moment each of them suffered their fate in an amalgam of depravity and despair. A tidal wave, rising against the bulwark of her sanity...

"Your eyes are shut, still... poor Valie..." Kirki's caressing palm traced Valia's cheek. "You will know. You will see through our eyes.... Soon."

Hooded figures in the background made their own way to the edges of the chamber, standing in the emptied pools identical in shape and fashion. As each removed their cloaks, a deeply scarified body, adorned with Sith glyphs and marks of battle was presented, chained seemingly willingly in the exact same way by the chains. Lightning pulsed, suddenly, from above. Blood dripped ever more, as if attracted by the foul ritual taking place beneath. The droplets who befell the deck, unnaturally being granted life only to find their way to the nearest pool.

Valia's legs grew cold. Freezing, as they sunk in it.

"Now..." Kirki smiled, turning to the centre of the chamber, while removing her hood. Her black hair long, elegantly braided into an artwork with golden jewelry attached to it... "We begin..."

 

[Dr. Eolai Vein]

The mad scientiest's vision sensors focused on ADJ-100. The initiative suggested the programming functioning in optimum capacity, if not farther ahead of its initial conception. Dr. Vein tilted his head and performed silent calculations in his mind, while the Medical Droid reached out with its arms to pick the Jedi, only to stop, after the droid's refusal to surrender the query. The time was not on their side. Eolai knew it. Though he could not refuse the fact that, given the mission soon to unfold, such knowledge could prove vital to the effectiveness of the droid. His creation...

"Psychoelectric transthoughtification would normally take time not currently in our disposal. Speeding up the process may damage the specimen, and have impact in your mainframe circuits." Vein was not a man of fear. He was a man of science. Knowledge-seeker and calculated risk-taker to the core, though he himself would not admit to it.

"Lie in operation bed 4. The specimen must remain in SPC to secure enough capacity for brain activity monitoring." Dr Vein instructed. "The transthoughtification may cause side-effects we cannot predetermine. You will be manually put to stasis mode throughout the operation, to avoid collateral damages. Results to be recorded for post-combat analysis. Confirm..."

Vein gestured with his hand to the nearby operation bed, while his vision sensors fixated on the Jedi ADJ-100 held. The Medical droid waiting for the query...

 

[Valia Muqai]

Valia continued to weep, from the pain of the chains and fear, closing her eyes to the unfolding horror of her situation. She stopped speaking, now understanding that all her pleas and desperate questions all fell on deaf ears or simply added to their sadistic enjoyment of her turmoil. The feeling of utter hopelessness and dread overcame her senses once more. No matter how much she struggled she could not break free.

The dark side clawed against her mind like a terrible beast against a glass enclosure. Scratching, cracking, threatening to break through what little willpower she had remaining. It did not tempt or beckon, instead threatening to break and overcome her mind like a terrible flood. No words could do the feeling justice. Valia attempted to withdraw her mind from it all, to remember who she was. Roshia Chamiane the Jedi Padawan, what she stood for, what she had fought for, and the friends she had made. Desperately fleeing from her current reality.

Yet, she remembered Kirki's words.

They won't take you back.

For them, you are now impure, despicable

you will be a Jedi no more...

Truth was like a cold knife to her heart, being twisted.

The weight against her mind grew heavier. Valia felt the last vestiges of her willpower be shredded away by the dark side's sharp claws.[/MEDIA]​

 

[Kirki Tyr'Opta]

Moments, now.

Moments of Peace.

Moments of Joy.

Moments of Serenity.

For but a single moment, Valia's mind blacked out, summoning the Light that now burned dimest within her, besieged by a hellscape of Darkness. She was young now; A child, yet again, the first time she pressed onto her Lightsaber and witnessed its light. The first time she journeyed off-world. The first kick of the hyperdrive as the shuttle accelerated to hyperspace. Memories once lost in life, now resurfaced as if the very life had been gone, now seen through a lense of another shell.

Serenity became Discord...

The flames of war burned. The skies darkened over Karideph, as the Sith armada begun its descend upon the planet. She was alone, now, pending doom looming over the girl, as the commlink buzzed with cries and pleas of desperation. The Force wept; Jedi blood running every road, in amalgamation with that of the civilians. Innocent and guilty, all burning. All dying. All screaming...

Joy became horror.

The light flickered. Cast by the flooding darkness, as if the very flame was unable to withstand the pressure any longer. Her senses kicked in, only to be met with tubes and wiring running through her wide openned chest. To try and scream would be to realize her inability of choice. Sanity now a currency treasured like the most precious gemstone in the underworld's beating heart.

Peace....

There was no Peace....

She felt each of the needles, as they went through the skin of the Marauders. Each picking one, stim purple and unstable, carelessly injecting themselves with the poison as if trusting the mad scientists who crafted them as blindly as an infant would to its mother.

"They are yours... Take control..." Kirki's venomous whispers pierced the mind.

Her vision blurring, little more than a maddening montage of different sights, ever more chaotic as the hallucinogenics of the stims kicked in, turning each of the Marauders in a feral state. Their minds openned involuntarily to the Force, and the claws of the Sith in the sanctum, predatory, craving to invade the same way the Dark Crusade creeped around the planet... Hyperdrives blazing, as plasma graced the void, illuminating the dark matter separating the grim warships from the beams cast from the orbital defense cannons from the planetside. A state of mayhem so complete, it created an abnormal sense of tranquility.

 

[Valia Muqai]

It may have lasted for no more than a heartbeat, but to Valia, it felt like hours. Memories of a past life that she now felt so disconnected from resurfacing from the depths of her mind, the remnant light within her soul shining like a flickering candle in the all encompassing darkness. Valia felt as if she relived those moments again, feeling the excitement from holding her first lightsaber, her first time journeying away from the Jedi temple she had known all her life, the time she had spent with her peers. Just in that brief moment, she felt comfort once more.

Her mind flipped through her memories like pages in a book. All belonged to the jedi she once was, all she viewed with fondness, until it reached her memories of Karideph. She relived the fear and desperation she felt whilst fleeing through the blood stained streets, the bodies of the people she once knew, searching for the protective presence of her Jedi Master as any child would search for its parents in times of distress. All the way to her final duel and the attempt to take her life in the last act of defiance, feeling the sting of the lightsaber within her chest.

Then, utter agony overtook her. Feeling every wire that trailed from her cut opened chest and the freezing chill that trailed all over her body. Valia couldn't scream, even if nothing physically impeded her from doing so. That agony began to mix with anger, then, a pained realization of the inescapability of her fate. No amount of fighting back worked, bravery was punished, escape had been impossible. All of it had led to unimaginable pain and suffering. If The Force determined ones fate, then hers has clearly been decided.

By her own will, Valia snuffed out the dim light within her, snuffing out the flickering candle. Darkness overtook it all as Valia surrendered to the dark entirely, embracing damnation.

Her eyes snapped open, glowing with an infernal amber-red light.

---

The vision and sensations were disorienting at first. Both feeling and seeing through the eyes of individuals that she quickly realized were the Marauders, individuals whom were once her enemies. Their minds opened and exposed, Valia bounced between minds. Familiarizing herself with the strange ritual whilst at the same time, she seek out a mind that she considered ideal enough to focus upon.

 

[Kirki Tyr'Opta]

The air was thick with smoke and radiation, still fresh from the bombardment. The scent of blood suddenly flooded Valia's nostrils, as the throat of the Marauder was sliced by the burning plasma of gold. The pain true, consumed by her as if the very soul of the fallen was filtered through her from skin to marrow. The echoes of his past thoughts, his desires, his darkest deeds, his greatest achievements, though scarce, flashed through her in moments that each lasted for centuries.

The void overtook her. Her will a current of razors, flowing in the tides of the unfolding carnage, as if magnetized by the mayhem. Terror and fear, despair and panic, now molded into a single coherent sensation that gnawled her like the water does a stone against the river flow. The minds of the marauders blooming flowers of blood and tissue, embracing involuntairily the miasma of the Sith Adepts from above like they would a bee in days of spring. The hallucinogenics kicking in. Poison running rampant in the blood stream, burning its way to the very mind. Openning the gates for the Sith to invade like flood.

And they did...

The weaker the mind, the stronger the control over it by the Adept. A storm of crimson, as if every thought connecting the horde growing flesh and roots, all leading to a single Throne of stone and obsidian. Tendrils stretching across the fabric of the Force, charts for the Adepts to trail until they finally take hold of the very mind. Each time the puppet perished, the black storm of absence was overwhelming, violently kicking the Adepts back to the Sanctum, where the Dark Side's fountain vomited their psychic will once more out in the battle unfolding around them.

The war fought in the Force as violent as that fought in flesh...

The crimson tendrils of the Adepts stretching out in a void of essense, eather spanning to infinity. Against them, the black claws of Death, so deeply rooted in the Netherworld the very reality shook in protest to their very existence. The two contested one another in a battle fought in unity over the puppets inbetween.

Kirki's voice a singing whisper, echoing in Valia's mind....

"Deny them control... Take Charge... Be the Predator you are, Valia Muqai. Bend the Force to your will."

 

[The Adjudicator (ADJ-100)]

The mad scientiest's vision sensors focused on ADJ-100. The initiative suggested the programming functioning in optimum capacity, if not farther ahead of its initial conception. Dr. Vein tilted his head and performed silent calculations in his mind, while the Medical Droid reached out with its arms to pick the Jedi, only to stop, after the droid's refusal to surrender the query. The time was not on their side. Eolai knew it. Though he could not refuse the fact that, given the mission soon to unfold, such knowledge could prove vital to the effectiveness of the droid. His creation...

"Psychoelectric transthoughtification would normally take time not currently in our disposal. Speeding up the process may damage the specimen, and have impact in your mainframe circuits." Vein was not a man of fear. He was a man of science. Knowledge-seeker and calculated risk-taker to the core, though he himself would not admit to it.

"Lie in operation bed 4. The specimen must remain in SPC to secure enough capacity for brain activity monitoring." Dr Vein instructed. "The transthoughtification may cause side-effects we cannot predetermine. You will be manually put to stasis mode throughout the operation, to avoid collateral damages. Results to be recorded for post-combat analysis. Confirm..."

Vein gestured with his hand to the nearby operation bed, while his vision sensors fixated on the Jedi ADJ-100 held. The Medical droid waiting for the query...

This proved to be…unfavorable. It would not want to be impaired in his performance due to the weakness of this Jedi. After all, it was evident that it’s fundamental skills in swordsmanship could eclipse what this Jedi had to offer. Then again, from its memory, it recognizes that Form 1 is excellent for its anti-army capabilities, fluidity, and unpredictability. These facets of the form could prove useful in things such as raids or sieges. And yet…

“I will not have my performance compromised by rushed work. Take the Jedi, but I do expect for the transthoughtification process to commence in me when time is ample. After all, Creator, you desire to implement this too. Furthermore, I would like to acquire a true arsenal of weaponry and not merely a vibrosword. This too will improve my effectiveness. Acknowledge.”

Tag: @Dreadheart

 

[Valia Muqai]

The air was thick with smoke and radiation, still fresh from the bombardment. The scent of blood suddenly flooded Valia's nostrils, as the throat of the Marauder was sliced by the burning plasma of gold. The pain true, consumed by her as if the very soul of the fallen was filtered through her from skin to marrow. The echoes of his past thoughts, his desires, his darkest deeds, his greatest achievements, though scarce, flashed through her in moments that each lasted for centuries.

The void overtook her. Her will a current of razors, flowing in the tides of the unfolding carnage, as if magnetized by the mayhem. Terror and fear, despair and panic, now molded into a single coherent sensation that gnawled her like the water does a stone against the river flow. The minds of the marauders blooming flowers of blood and tissue, embracing involuntairily the miasma of the Sith Adepts from above like they would a bee in days of spring. The hallucinogenics kicking in. Poison running rampant in the blood stream, burning its way to the very mind. Openning the gates for the Sith to invade like flood.

And they did...

The weaker the mind, the stronger the control over it by the Adept. A storm of crimson, as if every thought connecting the horde growing flesh and roots, all leading to a single Throne of stone and obsidian. Tendrils stretching across the fabric of the Force, charts for the Adepts to trail until they finally take hold of the very mind. Each time the puppet perished, the black storm of absence was overwhelming, violently kicking the Adepts back to the Sanctum, where the Dark Side's fountain vomited their psychic will once more out in the battle unfolding around them.

The war fought in the Force as violent as that fought in flesh...

The crimson tendrils of the Adepts stretching out in a void of essense, eather spanning to infinity. Against them, the black claws of Death, so deeply rooted in the Netherworld the very reality shook in protest to their very existence. The two contested one another in a battle fought in unity over the puppets inbetween.

Kirki's voice a singing whisper, echoing in Valia's mind....

"Deny them control... Take Charge... Be the Predator you are, Valia Muqai. Bend the Force to your will."

One of the first bodies she had taken had been short lived, his throat having been split open by what she assumed to have been a lightsaber. Instead of flinching away from the pain, Valia found some twisted enjoyment in his very last moments. Blood smelled like sweetened wine, his pain flowing through her like a pleasant breeze. A part of her wanted more more, an indescribable feeling for Valia.

The Marauder's death was nothing more than a minor setback, within the void of death, Valia did not shirk from the amalgamation of terror, despair, fear, and panic that she felt through her. She did not know where it came from, whether from the hosts, the Sith Adepts, or the prey they hunted down, but such information was inconsequential to her in that moment. Much like the other adepts in the Sanctum, not long after the death of her puppet, she sent back to her physical body before being spat out again into the battlefield.

Much like before, her mind perused across the sea of Maruder minds on the battlefield before her metaphorical claws gripped onto the mind of someone. One familiar, a former foe, and one of strong mind. Valia felt a tinge of spite through her.

Valia listened to Kirki's advice. Now she forced her will upon the mind she had invaded, seeing to gain control of the puppet she had landed upon