Mirvak's intense predatory gaze watched the Darth, feeling the power emanating from him and focusing on himself. It was not unlike what the Worgian felt when he was brought down to his basest levels in his states of rage. But at the same time, it was completely different. It was a more refined, directed, focused energy. Despite its subtleties, Mirvak had the innate sense that this was just a drop in the water. But there was no mistake, the source of this power was from the same pool as Mirvak's own underdeveloped abilities.
But Mirvak is no philosopher. As the chains began to twist and break, and his muzzle loosened around his face, he sighted in on the one prey that had evaded him his whole life.
The slaver stammered at Darth Metus,"Wh-What do you mean?" He looked quickly between the Sith and the Worgian as the former spoke to the latter. As the chains began the break themselves, the slaver captain reached down for his holstered blaster,"Hey--Hey! HEY!" He pulled the blaster from its leather holster and leveled it at the Darth. Mirvak leaped into action, on his feet in an instant as he swiped his massive claws at the slaver's hand. The blaster clattered to the ground with a pained scream from the captain.
Blood. A human's. Copper.
He gripped his bleeding hand, looking up just in time for Mirvak to snatch him up by the neck with one hand and raise him off his feet like a doll. Mirvak's grip tightened around the man's neck, growling as the captain sputtered out,"Ghhhggh! Kill.. this.. thing!" Mirvak turned his head to see a detachment of three droids with blaster rifles to his right, bringing their blasters to bare on the slave. The Worgian grabbed the slaver's leg with his free hand and raised him over his head, tossing him into the droids and sending them all to the floor.
Mirvak snarled, stomping over towards the slaver to finish the job. A horde of droids descended upon him, all departing from their stations around the slaves to take Mirvak down. What happened next was a flurry of claws, the thrusting of shock lances, and the clubbing of batons. It was truly something to behold, this beast holding his own against a platoon of droids armed with nasty shock weaponry.
The Worgian torn the droids limb from limb, drove his claws through their bodies, broke them in two. The droids' simple tactical programming kicked in, deducing that this strategy would not work. Within a few moments, the horde around him jumped onto his back, arms, legs, and pulled him down by the sheer weight of them all. A writhing pile of cheap metal atop a roaring monster. Still weakened by the massive beating from earlier, Mirvak struggled to bring himself up. A chill ran up Mirvak's spine, his senses warning him as he heard the sound of a blaster being charged *Chhzzt. Vweep!* He looked up to see a single droid shouldering a blaster rifle, aiming it directly at Mirvak's head.
DEFEAT. HUMILIATION. FAILURE.
Mirvak's eyes became like that of a dead man, cold and lifeless, his pupils contracting as he roared loudly. The blaster weapon crumpled in the droid's hand, and the Worgian slowly stood up. But it was not him raising the droids on his body up with him, rather they were being lifted by an unseen force. The slave's arms quivered as he raised them to shoulder level, panting heavily as the droids flailed around in the air. Silence hung in the air for a glorious moment. Only the whirring of the many droids' servos permeated the room, like little mechanical whispers, as all the slaves marveled in fear at this sight. The captain, trying to crawl away, stopped to look up in awe.
Mirvak's arms began to quake, as if he was lifting all these droids over his head himself. Like a weight lifter pushing himself to a limit he had never reached before, Mirvak let out a pained, determined growl in his throat punctuated by a sudden roar as he tightened his fists. And just like that, all the droids suspended in the air were shredded, crumpled, crushed, ripped in two, twisted beyond repair. Mirvak released his fists, and the scrap heap that was once several thousand credits worth of security droids crashed to the ground around him.
Panting, Mirvak took a moment to look around him to inspect that all the droids were decommissioned. Then his gaze suddenly met the captain's, who gasped and turned to run, but was only met with a corner of the dank room. The slave made cold, calculated steps to the captain, as the he began to stammer and plead. "H-heyyyy! Nasty, buddy! Remember that time I gave you that bantha rations? Come on, you know I was looking out for you! Listen, all the droids are dead, you're free! You're free, you don't need to bother with this old scumbag! Just let me go, alright?!" Mirvak closed to within arm's reached of him as the captain looked around in a panicked fashion. Prey cornered by the beast, he looked for an exit that wasn't there. "I was just doing my buddy a favor! You can't fault me for that! A man's gotta run his businezhkkGLK!" The Worgian swiped his claws up suddenly, cutting the slaver off. He clung to his neck with both his hands, his eyes bugging out as his fingers could not dam the flood pouring outward from the gashes left by Mirvak.
The cold beast, still in a state of sorts, looked the captain in the eyes as he slumped against the wall and fell to the floor. He quirked his head to the side slowly as he watched the pathetic death of the slaver and growled quietly,"Pitiful worm." He remained there, watching the slaver bleed out, completely dead to the rest of the world. The storm swelling within him was dying down, but it would remain. Perhaps, it would seem to attuned force sensitives like Darth Metus, the storm was always there. Just beneath the surface.