Cat and Mouse

[Joza Perl]

Her look of rage melted to one of surprise as he snapped the shock whip, and suddenly the Zeltron quieted down. Tearing her gaze away from Cadoc she rolled her eyed toward the ground, trying to avoid the bare mattress she sat on. At least she had that, and wasn’t forced to make herself comfortable on the cold ground.

Master. Just the implication caused a shudder to wrack her spine. She’d never referred to anyone as Master, aside from Dune, her teacher. The Bith had put a great effort into teaching her as his student, and she almost snorted in picturing how disappointed he’d be in her now. He’d always protected her too…

But that was a Master in a different sense. The Jedi had treated her as an equal in terms of respect. Now, her life belonged to someone, to be bought and sold on a whim as if she were goods in a market. “You won’t get away with this,” She snapped, though her words felt hollow and futile as the reality of the situation slowly began to creep in.

“Sleep? You want me to sleep?” She was nearly incredulous at his suggestion. How could she sleep at a time like this, when her mind was racing and her heart thudding in her chest. “I’d rather be dead.”

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Ax'no]

Priestess Tiin boarded the Zygerrian ship, hooded and covered. She was here to retrieve Joza, the Zeltron slave she'd bid on. Silently depositing the credits into Cadoc's paw, Briga retrieved her package.

Joza would recognize her new Mistress right away. Watching the ship carefully, biding her time, Darth Ax'no approached her prey.

"I want you to kneel before me," said the blue-haired Priestess.

 

[Joza Perl]

Peering up at the hooded figure, Joza did a double take. The Zeltron’s jaw fell open almost comically, and it took a few moments for her to right herself once more, in the barest sense of the word.

Briga Tiin. Ever since the blissful afternoon they’d spent together on Voss, the mystical Caprine had invaded Joza’s dreams. Soon after their engagement, she would find herself awake in the middle of the night, covered in sweat with her skin tingling and Briga’s name on her lips. It can’t be…

But it was. Memories of how the other woman had attempted to capture her flooded Joza’s mind, giving the situation at hand a much more dangerous tint than it had before. She wondered what sort of “Master” she’d end up with, hoping that it was some weak-minded individual she could somehow manipulate into an escape. But she’d ended up with a Sith who seemed to specialize in mentalism herself.

“I…what? You…” Joza stuttered and didn’t move a muscle, too stunned to comprehend the command, as she was not used to being given them in the first place.

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

Briga knew she owed no one an explanation of why she was cavorting around, purchasing slaves, and especially this particular near-human. But she supposed Joza ought to know what brought her to this place. Nodding a signal to Cadoc, the Caprine approached the cell and began to speak. As she did so the slave Master of Drukarg let her inside, the door sliding open with a clank.

“I was recently given a gift by the Pharaoh-king of Ankhypt, an Anubian consort named Nakhari. She’s quite striking… long ears, white fur, pleasant demeanor. You will get to meet her.” Darth Ax’no wore a long, black gown – high neck, long sleeves – and stood by the door, not moving. She clasped her clawed hands together and rested them near her stomach.

“Since Livna escaped, I had been looking for another servant and this time I thought I’d purchase one, a more exotic species. A Zeltron - even though in my head I knew she wouldn’t be able to compare to you.” The Caprine smiled, her amber eyes full of mischief with just a touch of malice.

“Now I don’t have to compare her. I was lucky enough that the Zygerrian had found you, clever cat.” Her brows furrowed momentarily. “I knew you were the type who would eventually go looking for trouble. Not such a pristine little Jedi, are you, Joza?"

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Swallowing thickly, Joza nearly felt as if her vision was spinning out of control. And yet, she latched onto Briga’s words of explanation with the intent that a bright-eyed student would for show for those of a revered teacher. How this crossing of fates came to be, she did not know. Were there holoimages of her taken and distributed that she did not know of? Her teeth gritted at the thought, and slowly, the Zeltron would rise onto unsteady feet. It seemed as if the spice crash was hitting her harder than expected with the way her skull was pounding.

And yet as if she didn’t fully comprehend the situation that she was in—Joza glared at the blue haired woman before her, green eyes burning brightly. As she stood, the sheet slipped from her body revealing her pink flesh, though she felt no tingles of embarrassment right now.

“You witch.” The Zeltron would snarl lowly, staring at the prophet as if they were standing on opposite sides of a battlefield. And in a way they were, with Joza on the losing end. “I don’t care for meeting your exotic harem. You won’t be holding on to me for long.” Though her eyes flashed, there was an inkling of fear inside the Zeltron. Briga was a dark sider who now controlled her chains.

At the mention of her being a Jedi, she visibly winced. The clash of her nature and attempted lifestyle was something that weighed heavily on Joza’s mind, deeper than Briga knew. Or perhaps she did know how deep seeded her issues were and would press it to her advantage. She seemed the type to. “I may not be the most pure Jedi, but at least I haven’t given in and become a bloodthirsty Sith.”

She knew that all Sith weren’t like that—hell, she had friends and lovers among them. But Joza needed something—anything—to defend herself.

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

“One more hour, a short jump through hyperspace, and we’ll be there,” said Cadoc gruffly to Darth Ax’no. “Does the Priestess want any refreshments or to relax in a place far from the slave pens?”

“No, I’m fine right here,” Ax’no said, now stepping a little closer to Joza.

"Suit yourself," he said. "Some find it vile back here with all of these dirty, moaning slaves together. I find it quite relaxing. I love the smell of sweat and fear," he growled. Nothing else pleased him so to be the ultimate Master over his unwilling congregation, much like the cleric was lorded over her own.

While the Zeltron couldn’t use the Force, Darth Ax'no didn’t doubt the girl had quick reflexes, strong survival skills and could hurt her physically. That is, if the Caprine didn’t have her own tools with which to deal with a minor insurrection. Her amber eyes, ringed with darkside corruption, eagerly perused Joza’s body. “Was that tattoo always there?” she asked. “I seem to not remember it before when we commingled in the Tower of Prophecy.” Truth be told, there was not a day that went by where Briga didn’t think about the Zeltron in some way, whether it be fleeting, an intense memory or even an ambient longing.

But her time in the Sith had made her crueler. And would she pass that callousness onto Joza?

That remained to be seen, but at the present time, Darth Ax’no only wanted to inquire and observe.

“But my dear, you have a lot of darkness inside of you. I can’t feel it right now because of your lovely choker, but I felt it before as we kissed, among other great pleasures that afternoon. In fact, I hope that you come to view our time together, not as bondage, but as freedom. Freedom from all of those pent-up desires and urges and limitations.” The Priestess stepped closer still. Even disheveled, with shaky hands from withdrawal – and Ax’no only knew what the Zygerrian had done to her prior – the Zeltron Knight was radiant, her pink-skin glowing. Briga felt a prickle of anticipation in her belly at how sweet it would be to reunite with Joza. Even if she had to do quite a bit of coaxing to get her to relax. If coaxing failed, coercion would be the next step.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Sweat and fear. Joza was about to shoot daggers at Cadoc, but thought better of it. She had other matters to attend to, and unfortunately couldn’t multitask well enough to glare at the both of them. As soon as I come down from this… The Zeltron was already plotting a potential escape. She’d lured Briga into the depth of her desires unknowingly once before—or so she’d assumed—but that had been a while ago. Joza had nearly lost herself to the heat too. But she had no doubt that the horned woman had honed certain skills during her time with the Sith. She had to be careful.

And yet, the Zeltron wondered just what Briga had learned—not that she’d admit to wanting to know. Was she a physical combatant as Joza was? Had the pink woman had access to a lightsaber or even a blunt weapon, she didn’t doubt her ability to defend herself—close quarters and blade work were her forte. “It’s new.” She declared, voice rapidly gaining strength. “Designed to cover the scarring on my back.” The sexual tension that hung in the air between her and the artist as he worked on her back had been delicious, and the follow-up to it had satisfied her.

And still, she felt ember stir lowly in her stomach as she caught sight of Briga’s eyes, now holding the telltale signs of dark sided corruption. It set her senses off with danger, but danger was something that was difficult for Joza to resist. Briga already knew that, though. With just one encounter she’d seen different sides of the Zeltron as she struggled with her morals and her nature.

“Freedom?” The words spat from her mouth, a low growl accompanying the glower she gave the priestess before her. “How can you say that when I’m the one here against my will, in chains no less? Do you think you’re going to coax out some part of me that’s been locked away?” She steeled her gaze. “The Jedi may have suppressed my urges with their teachings, but I do as I please.” In a way, she was both confident and disgusted with her own behavior. As prideful as she tried to appear, the struggle was still evident in her life. That, and she left out the part where Briga had been the one to open the floodgates from that one afternoon on Voss.

[SIZE=11pt]“I don’t care about the darkness.” She murmured, more to herself than to her new Mistress. With the open satisfaction of her desires came less barriers when tapping into the dark side. Again, something she would not openly discuss.[/SIZE]

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

“What kind of scarring?” Darth Ax’no asked suddenly sounding genuinely curious and not as though she were asking a leading question, which appeared to be most of her inquiries. The Caprine had her own scars, both from long ago and recently fresh.

Would she compare these marks to Joza, or would the Priestess choose to make more of them on the Zeltron’s heated, pink flesh or would she choose to disfigure her mind instead, leaving long-lasting psychological bruises?
The ship began to descend, both of them would be able to feel it slightly list to one side and then right itself as though a drunken Zygerrian was at the controls. "Cadoc, I need some clothes for my prisoner. As much as I'd like to parade her around my village nude, it would not be very holy of me," she said, smirking. The Slave Master gave the Priestess his own lascivious grin but stalked off at her request.

“I bet you do,” agreed Briga with a husky laugh at Joza's admission that she did what she wanted. “You certainly took your pleasure in the Tower.” Once they landed on Iktotch, Darth Ax’no would have to be even more careful to remain the chaste goddess she was rumored to be. She would not be able to frolic in Joza’s company, the way she did on Voss.

At least not in public, but the Caprine had places built inside of her Grand Temple, specifically for interrogation, enslavement and torture. Technologically advanced and soundproof – it was place where the two of them would not be disturbed.

As they continued to make their descent onto the rocky soil of Iktotch, the Priestess said, “You do not care about the darkness, but I feel it inside you. Not this moment as you are cut off from the Force, but there is anger, rage and fear swirling around like a primordial storm.”

Sometimes the most direct question yielded the answers one sought.

“What exactly are you afraid of, Joza?”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s eyes flickered at the question. Though innocuous, it somehow made her angry—just how much of a description of her was given to the bidders? She figured that when purchasing Zeltron slaves, what mattered most would be physical attributes. “Burn marks. Saber scarring.” She grunted the words out. “I had the tattoo designed specifically to cover them.” There were other various scars scattered about her body, most of lighter intensity. The one on her face she’d received in her first battle was currently concealed with makeup, as it often was.

She perked up at the bit about being clothed, keenly aware of her own nudity. While it did not disturb her, there was something that burned in the pit of her stomach about having no other choice.

Had she had the Force—or a blunt weapon, or anything that could be turned into a weapon, Joza might have lashed out at Ax’no then and there. “Of course I’m angry.” The Zeltron snapped with a feral growl. “That doesn’t mean that I’m dark like you and your Sith friends.”

Joza had experienced taunting at the hands of her opponents, and one would think that it would be easy to stoke a Zeltron’s emotional fires—but she was fairly resilient. But that was because her adversaries chose the wrong things to tease her about—mocking her skill on the battlefield didn’t hit her as deeply as certain subjects. Yet the clever Caprine had figured out one of Joza’s most intimate weaknesses, the Jedi having exposed more than flesh during their romp in the tower. Her fear of falling back into a familiar promiscuous nature had become more of a reality, pulling her further away from the light and purity.

“Piss off, schutta.”

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

Darth Ax’no nodded at Joza’s description of her scarring, and her amber eyes flashed with a hint of empathy. While Joza may have thought the question had to do with her looks or attributes, that the Caprine mystic wanted her skin to be soft and blemish-free, the Sith Inquisitor was more interested in a personal reason. She’d been ritualistically whipped by the Elder Priests of the Ax’no Cult as a teenager, and then flogged again recently at the hands of the Sith.

“I have scars too,” she admitted with less glee than before as though the wind was out of her sails a bit at the thought of either women being made to withstand that type of hardship. “That, we have in common.”

Still, she knew that pain held its own type of allure - and opportunities - for one to become stronger.

“Pain is an inevitable part of the galaxy. It’s whether we choose to suffer or not, that is the ultimate test.”

Cadoc came back with a taupe-colored shift that resembled a cliff-stalk sack made of a fabric reminiscent of burlap… or even sandpaper, she thought as she felt the rough texture between her fingertips. Sighing, she tossed it at Joza. “Put that on.”

Darth Ax'no suddenly turned on the Zygerrian and hissed: Gaba akukho nto ilune ngaphu nengxow iphepha, essentially chiding the cat-man in Caprinean for having such an awful garment on hand for her new purchase to wear. “I paid a lot of credits for her, and this is all you have?”

While she summarily ignored the insults by the Zeltron, the freighter landed with a thud. The horned mystic turned on her heel, and Cadoc took her place in the cell, beckoning Joza forward with his furred hand. “If you escape, don’t worry, I’ll find you again if I have to track you down myself. And this time I won’t be as nice to you, Pateesa,” he warned. “Go now with your new Mistress. She’s filled my wallet, so I can enjoy some expensive whiskey tonight. I’ll be sure to give a toast to you, my dear.” His whiskers tickling her pink cheek, he stole a quick kiss as Briga glared at him. The Knight was then ushered out by Cadoc and his thugs, the hatch opened, ramp down and not too far in the distance, Joza would see The Grand Temple of Ax’no, presumably her new home on Iktotch.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

“As do every other Jedi and Sith.” Her response was mild, the words feeling uncomfortable on her tongue as she shifted her stance. The Zeltron was consciously keeping her back strait and her chest lifted into a pose that radiated—she hoped—confidence. She’d seen them littering the bodies of her allies, enemies, and occasionally lovers. Briefly she thought of mentioning her cybernetic arm—something she didn’t have during their meeting—but brushed the thought away. Perhaps it could be put to use later.

"Suffering? I am enduring,”​

​

"The 'pain' is a reminder."​

The mention of making the choice to suffer through pain gave her pause, reflecting on the words of someone close to her heart. Someone who was no stranger to the dark side, and who she had a complicated relationship with—but a man she admittedly fell for nonetheless. Which caused her to wonder, if he knew…would he come for her?

She tisked as the piece of clothing was tossed towards her, grimacing as she shimmied into the rough material, cuffs clanking as she did so. Joza cast a sidelong glance at the bedsheet that had since pooled onto the floor beneath her. While cheap, the material was more comfortable and she almost asked if she could fashion some sort of toga-like dress instead. Still, she couldn’t help a vague smirk as Briga apparently scolded the slaver.

Joza practically hissed at Cadoc’s promise, though there was an underlying spark of fear in her chest as she reflexively lurched away from him when he kissed her. “I’ll see that you burn.” She snarled, arm twitching as she was close to swinging her chained fists towards him but thought better of it. Fuming, the Zeltron was shepherded down the ramp and onto Iktotch soil. Her green gaze flickered back and forth, taking in everything she could about the planet—atmosphere, topography, people—anything information she could use to potentially plan an escape.

"So what's the plan for me, priestess? Am I to be a sacrifice in your hokey religion or what?"

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

Darth Ax’no chuckled as Joza threatened the opportunistic Zygerrian. She had no doubt that without the Force suppression collar, the Jedi Knight would fulfill her promise of making the Slave Master of Drukarg burn. She wondered just how many liberties the massive feline had taken with her property, but it was a fleeting thought.

A small hovercraft took the master and her slave to the base of the Grand Temple of Ax’no. Iktotoch was a windy, rocky planet in the Expansion Region with a temperate climate, but an unusual humidity had settled over the high cliff where the Ax’no’s Temple stood and fog shrouded most of the cliff base. Four immense ram-horned guards came out to greet them. Two flanked either side of Knight Perl, one at the front and the other at the back. They were dressed in quite primitive armor, effective, but nothing state-of-the-art. Holding various weapons such as swords, spears and bows the soldiers were completely silent and obedient to the Priestess.

“In homage to the goddess Ax’no, you will climb this flight of stairs that lead up the Grand Temple. I assume this won’t be difficult for you being a Jedi Warrior, trained specifically for combat. Or have you been out dancing in Nar Shaddaa nightclubs and ignoring your physical fitness?” The guard behind her poked her in the back lightly with his spear and urged the Zeltron towards the spiraling flight of stone stairs that lead up the mountain. “We shall see what type of shape you are in,” the Priestess said smiling. She would take the hovercraft straight to the top. This would be Joza’s first test, and a way for Darth Ax’no to evaluate the Zeltron's overall health. If she scaled the hundreds of stairs with relative ease, the Caprine would have an idea of how much physical torture the Jedi might be able to withstand.

"You are far too important to wantonly sacrifice," finished the horned mystic. "But first the ascension."

The hovercraft lifted up and out of sight while Joza was left with an imposing flight of stairs to climb along with the guards surrounding her.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza involuntarily straightened defensively when four massive goat-like guards appeared, her head whipping around to take stock of the new arrivals. After noting their armor and weapons with a knowing eye, her attention was drawn back to Briga as she spoke.

Green irises flashed quickly, though Joza seemed to be latching on to the priestess’ words with rapt interest. Silence was her only response, save for the pair of arched brows that rose above her bangs. The sharp tongue would be taking a break for now, she thought, as her head lifted to observe the winding set of stairs practically carved into the mountainside. Very well. Preparing to move, the Zeltron flinched as she was prodded in the back by one of the Balae guards. Turning her head halfway, her eyes narrowed as she intended to give the beast-man a harsh glare, but thought better of it and turned her attention back to her task.

What’s all this about a goddess? Does she really believe in things like this? Attempting to recall what she could about the horned mystic before things became more…alluring, the Zeltron realized that she couldn’t come up with much. Perhaps she should have paid better attention, but she inherently dismissed the notions of gods and goddesses. No one followed any sort of divine right on Zeltros, as far as she was aware—religion was something to admire from afar, though she’d heard of the terrifying extremes that it could reach. I wonder what I’m about to walk in to.

To keep herself as calm and level-headed as she could manage, Joza informed herself that the situation was only temporary. Very temporary. Being a Jedi meant that she’d inherently find a way out of Briga’s grasp and off of Iktotch, right? Well, no, not exactly. Jedi were known for being slippery and clever, but many times that wasn’t enough. Defeat, while bitter, was nothing new to the Jedi Knight. Her cybernetic right arm—the real one being lost at the hand of a Sith—was a testament to her trials.

Warrior. She called me a warrior. This bit into Joza more than the Caprine had likely intended to. The spiritual side of her training had been ignored for too long, likely contributing to her regression. Or did one cause the other? Grunting as her she lifted herself smoothly onto another step, the Zeltron figured that it would be best to leave those thoughts for later. She was nearing the top anyhow, and should be saving her mental strength for whatever came next. Thankfully she was ascending the stairs with relative ease, though the activity did cause the pounding in her head to increase.

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

Darth Ax’no was impressed by the woman's fortitute, but she would not show it. However, the way the Zeltron Jedi scaled the hundreds of stairs leading up the temple spoke to the fact that she was in better physical condition than the Sith Inquisitor thought. So much that it was tempting her to remove the Force suppression collar if only to have a fair fight with the lovely pink-skinned near human.

But Ax’no could not chance being bested in her own temple.

Once Joza was ushered inside, two of the guards remained at the temple entrance and the other two still flanked her. The blue-haired Caprine was there waiting for her.

“This way,” she said nonchalantly as though the Zeltron had a choice. Ax’no’s temple was primitive and completely devoid of technology, at least to the eye. Torches lit the winding stone corridors, and much of the building seemed open to the elements, but at as they moved deeper into the structure, the walls became thicker, the temperature colder, and the atmosphere more protected from prying eyes. They stopped in a room that did appear, like Joza had suspected, to be a ritualistic chamber of sorts. There was a baptismal font, but no large pool of water like the Tower of Prophecy. One of the guards left and came back with a garment, a white slip of a dress for the slave to wear.

“Once you put that on, we shall begin,” said the Caprine coldly, almost clinically with no hint of what was about to follow.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

The reality of being a slave still hadn’t sunk in for the young Zeltron—perhaps because she couldn’t yet measure the level of severity of this situation. She’d turned her sharp tongue on both Cadoc and Briga and received no physical reprimand or threat, but the Jedi knew better than to push her luck. As she descended the temple stairs, it occurred to her that the priestess was seemingly unbothered by her lack of submission for a reason. Indeed, the Caprine didn’t seem like the type to use a brash show of force to get her charges to fall in line. The mystic was cunning, calculating and…cruel? Joza hadn’t experienced it firsthand, but the yellow ringed irises set her on edge by sight alone.

Perhaps it was the drop in temperature, but the Knight still shivered all the same. The further they descended into the archaic looking tomb, the tighter the knot became in her stomach. Now that they were no longer out in the open and subject to the attention of the public, the stakes rose alongside her heartbeat. This isn’t looking any better.

Surprisingly, Joza gave no hesitation or defiant comment as she was given the dress. As far as she was concerned, it was an upgrade from the scratchy material she was currently wearing. Quickly disrobing, she shimmied into her new garment, her head popping over the top of it just as Briga’s words ended. Begin? Begin what?! Green eyes flickered over to the guard at her side, wondering if she’d be able to manage with four armed guards in the room. Without the Force or a weapon, the odds were slim and she wasn’t one to take changes like that.

A mix of caution and hesitation swirled in the Jedi’s eyes, eventually hardening her gaze. “Briga,” She addressed the Sith Knight, voice dropping an octave almost as if she were scolding the other woman. “Just what do you plan to do with me?” A hint of a growl, sharp as a razor’s edge vibrated in her throat. Joza was not in any position to be making demands, and perhaps she was pushing her luck but she was truly curious.

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HY9WUZZrTpw​

The fear radiating from the Zeltron was enticing. In the Tower of Prophecy, both women had been caught up in the bravado of seduction. Here in the Grand Temple of Ax’no, the pecking order was as clear as transparisteel. Although Briga did relish the idea of Joza’s feistiness making an appearance.

“If only I had a limitless amount of time,” she said wistfully. “There are so many things I want to do to you. And with you. But if you are going to be my disciple, I need to make sure you know a couple of vital skills.” Darth Ax’no went over to a wooden chest which sat off to the side and procured a long, sharp dagger. The handle, bejeweled with onyx and emerald jewels, glittered menacingly. As she held the weapon up she said, “Some Sith enjoy mindless torture. My former Master used torture as a way to train me and my handmaidens, although I fear he enjoyed the suffering a little too much.” Her jaw tightened with the memory.

The guards shifted with alertness as Briga approached her slave. “Arms at your side and stay very still.”

If Joza did as she was told, the Sith Inquisitor would begin making shallow cuts across the Zeltron Jedi’s arms, in the most sensitive places – the crook of the elbow, the soft, pink skin under her armpit, and then Briga would move to rake the dagger over the skin of her chest.

As she worked, she asked, "Do you know what Crucitorn is?"

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza felt an incredible urge to step back as Briga brandished a knife, the pointed blade glinting threateningly in the dim light of the chamber. Yet the Zeltron would not move, either out of fear of what would happen or her own pride to see this through with a straight face. She’d faced off against Sith before, but never had she been a captive of one, or even truly entertained the thought out of simple fear.

A lump formed at the edge of Joza’s throat while Ax’no drew closer. “I shouldn’t expect anything less,” Grinding the words out, the Jedi’s firm gaze honed in on the blue-haired siren, heart thumping rapidly in her chest. “You Sith suffer needlessly.” The words came out with an unintended softness, quickly dying in the air at Briga’s orders. Seeing no other option but to be a compliant as possible within reason, the Knight remained still, eyes following the motions of the dagger every step of the way.

The light incisions were certainly nothing that would break her on their own, but the anxiety over why Briga was making them caused her more distress than the wounds themselves. Crucitorn? Wracking her brain, Joza thought that the word may have sounded familiar. Perhaps she’d heard it in a lecture, or while skimming the archives? But the fact remained that she was not familiar with it. “No.” Came her brisk response, exhaling sharply as the blade dragged across her chest. At her side, fists clenched and unclenched as she braced herself in any and every way she could think of, mind racing.

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

Even carving her up like some Harvest Festival nuna, Briga felt a deep desire for her lovely captive. In pain and determination, Joza Perl was still a vision of beauty and grace. She had to admire the Zeltron’s tenacity.

But now was the time to challenge it.

“Many Sith would use alchemy and turn you into some twisted, experiment of flesh, bone and magic. But what I am about to show you will only help you in the long run.” Darth Ax’no stepped back and peered at Joza’s body, like a painter admiring her masterpiece. The Zeltron Jedi now had a series of criss-cross incisions along her arms and chest, even on the tender flesh of her breasts. Blood began to trickle from the deeper cuts, patterning her white, silk slip with an array of crimson blotches and stains.

“There,” she said. “Crucitorn is essentially the art of pain management using the Force. By tapping into this power, you can prevent pain, which will help you if you’re injured in battle. Or you can cause pain.” With the last sentence, Joza would feel her cuts begin to burn a bit more intensely. Then she would notice Darth Ax’no’s influence as the mystic ripped into the wounds with her mind, causing sheer and blinding agony to the Jedi. It would feel as though maggots were burrowing inside of her skin, writhing and biting, wantonly feeding upon her muscles. All the while, the Caprine kept her golden eyes fixated on Joza’s face, wanting to witness the moment when the girl would feel the affliction, an acute pain unlike anything else she had likely experienced.

“You may scream if it helps,” Briga suggested, smiling.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Green eyes narrowed in anxious anticipation, as if she wanted Briga to both hurry up with whatever she was planning, and drag it out as long as possible at the same time. Joza was positive that the Caprine wasn’t dragging the blade across her skin on some sort of whim—no, she had a plan. Even cut off from the Force and her danger sense, everything about the situation caused knots to form and tighten rapidly in her stomach. The Jedi wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but something told her that she would not like it.

While very unpleasant, the pain of her wounds was manageable for the time being. Focusing on Briga helped—the slender, enticing beauty of the mystic actually helped to take her mind off of things, if only partially.

As the Sith continued on to offer an explanation of the technique she would be employing, Joza’s face quickly blanked in realization. She fidgeted when her injuries began to burn as if they’d been salted, but had no time to prepare for the forceful pain that rippled through her flesh. For a moment she froze, her face displaying a mix of shock and anguish as her mouth dropped open in a silent scream.

Crumpling to the ground, Joza fervently attempted to clutch at her skin as if she could stop the pain. Unable to even hear the priestess and her suggestion at this point, the Zeltron’s head jerked back as if it had been pulled and a violent scream tore its way from her throat—though it did the pain no justice. It felt as if she was being torn apart by thousands of rotating blades, catching and tearing at her skin with reckless abandon. Had the Force suppression collar not be there, her agony would certainly reach those she held a close bond with.

No threats surfaced in her mind, no idle thoughts. Only pain, so much that she felt nauseous, even moreso when she caught sight of the cuts. They had bled a bit more, but were not nearly as severe as she was made to feel.

[member="Darth Ax'no"]

 

[Ax'no]

With cold detachment, Darth Ax’no watched the slave drop to her knees and then writhe on the ground in pain, a scream finally escaping her lips. The Sith Inquisitor kept up the painful pressure on the wounds, mentally tearing them, digging into them as though her very claws were scraping around inside... over and over and over again.

And then perhaps unexpectedly, Ax’no knelt beside her prisoner and placed a gentle palm on the Zeltron’s forehead. But still, she continued her assault with Crucitorn. Her hands reaching around the back of Joza’s neck, she unsnapped the Force collar and pulled it off of the Jedi’s pink-skinned neck.

“You are so strong, Joza. I know the darkness has beckoned to you. But why you haven’t succumbed yet is an unanswered question. I fear it may be your self-discipline. You resist your urges because it’s prohibited by whatever Order you subscribe to… and then you act out because, on some level, we are not meant to resist what we want the most.”

Briga rose back up, the dagger in one hand, the collar in the other, using all of her concentration to continue her psychic assault on Joza’s incisions.

“Crucitorn can be used to prevent pain as well. This can help you withstand interrogation or battle wounds so you can continue to fight. Try it, my slave. You may use the Force now but only as I sanction. If I see one of those Balae guards slam against the wall, this is going right back on your pretty little neck,” Ax’no said, holding up the suppression collar.

[member="Joza Perl"]