Another One Bites The...Well Not Dust

[Louise]

Mind completely off of the matter of Jedi and dead Orphans Evelynn frowned.

We'll speak of it later, in other words, a solid no.

Poor little Evelynn, dreams of mauve curtains with the gold trim had been dashed. Perhaps she would secretly buy a small apartment and decorate it to her heart's desire. After all it would be nice to have some measure of control, but then what colour would the carpets be, and the walls? Suddenly there was an entire realm to decorate. The mute would get her curtains. Yes. Her fingers laced together in inner triumph, a whole world of design now at her sickly finger tips.

Then she caught it, quiet words with loud intentions.

Pity.

Suddenly those hollow granite eyes snapped up to look at the Jedi, gaze enquiring if she was mad. It seemed a bit premature for the lightsider to be aiming for her own death. Through their bond Evelynn could sense Nemene's fury. The woman winced slightly, as if imagining what it would be like on the receiving end of that ire. No, no. Don't put yourself into shoes of that poor unfortunate soul.

Now that was rather silly.

 

[Kira Talith]

Kira’s body would jerk, try to pull away. Fingers would twitch. Agony would run hot.

Her lips would part and a silent gasp of pain would fall. But santuary would not be found. Was it right to perhaps say that last bit aloud?

Maybe. Maybe not.

The following scenes would be forever seared into memory. That is if Kira would even live through the night.

Hope strengthens. Fear kills.

There wasn’t an ounce of fear within the Jedi Master. When blue locked onto Nememe’s citrine. There was no fear. No joy. No sense of anger.

Only pity flowing from agony.

The more her skilled hand would slice, the harder it was for Kira to maintain her silence. She wasn’t crying out.

Yet.

That could change. Soon perhaps.

But it was of no consequence that a rush of energy would start to run through her body. Crackling pain throughout the Jedi’s form.

 

[Lira Dajenn]

It was done.

All of it was done. Everything that could have been taken, was. Everything that could have been stolen, had been. The thing most precious to the Jedi Master, the thing that would allow her to pass on who she was, gone. This was the doing of Nemene Talith, what her wrath had brought.

The Sith Lady had taken Kira's ability to bare Children, her ability to naturally pass on her genetic line. For someone that she had observed to greatly enjoy children, it was the greatest thing that she could have taken. Joy, mirth, and even ecstasy had flown through her throughout the taking of it, and not a pang of regret flowed through her now that it had been done. This was how Nemene Talith operated, this what what she had wanted.

There was no telling if Kira was broken of course.

If she was shattered and no longer a whole, but Nemene had taken from her that which should be held most precious, and that was nearly enough. She did not want to kill the woman, no, that would end her suffering and lessen the damage of what she had done.

Instead she would be far more cruel.

Kira would be sold as a slave, as a shadow of her former self.

She would escape of course. Her will would eventually return and she would remember her strength in the force, but long before that she would see the horrors of the galaxy anew. She would be shown this by Pirates, Warlords, and the underbelly of the galaxy. The Queen of Rattatak had assured it, and so it would happen.

To help in this process of destruction, to aid in the downward Spiral of Kira Liadain, Nemene gave her a final gift. A chip, a neural inhibitor placed deep and concealed within the recesses of her brain. A device that would at random trigger the memories of the torture. Once the chip was triggered, Kira would find herself back in the white room, beneath the palm of Nemene. For her it would last days, hours and hours of torture, though to reality it would only be a few seconds.

Thus with the final gift given, Kira was handed over to the Nightclaw pirates, little more than a slave.