Exploring the unknown (Qun Vell)

[Jairus Starvald]

Unknown Location
Testing Grounds

‘Preliminary tests?’ the Sith Lord questioned the professor next to him. They were studying a different [member="Qun Vell"], more veracious, angry and wishing to please his new Master. He really couldn’t do anything against those desires and persuits, mindfrakkery would do that to a person. Make even the shiniest paragon into a shadow of his former glory, the duo were standing behind a see-through mirror and watched as the beast was pitted against a simple contraption.

‘Difficult to say, my Lord. He’s definitely sensitive to the Force, your adepts already confirmed that. But for some reason he is refusing to use it right now.’ the professor replied, while grimacing, the reason for his grimace was a rock, propellered by the contraption, towards the beast.

Qun’s hands were currently strapped behind his back, his feet locked inside shackles. The only way he could move the rock was through the Force… it wasn’t going very well. The Sith Lord simply studied and waited for a surprise, or another failure.

At the back of his head something was nagging at him, something that he had experienced back on Manaan and could help him in his experiments. It did not wish to come to him right now.

 

[Qun Vell]

Since the end of the battle of Manaan Qun had been mindfrakked heavily. His memories torn apart, some forgotten, some twisted, some untouched, some implanted. His desires were molded, reshaped to fit the needs of the One Sith. No, not the One Sith. Just one Sith. In truth Qun didn't even know how long it had taken. It could have been a few weeks, a week, or a few days. The only real measurement of time he had was that his hangover had ended. Since then there was nothing to indicate how long he had been in there, much less where he was in a local or planetary sense. In an immediate sense he was in a room with a mirror on one side and a pebble launcher on the other. His arms tied behind his back and his feet locked into place there was little he could do to stop the pebbles coming at him. For a while he tried to dodge, but he wasn't very mobile and such attempts were wasted effort. For now every few seconds a pebble bounced off his beer gut, with a wince every time it hit. He'd probably have an array of bruises by the time this was done.

But was that what hurt the most? Feth no. What hurt him the most was alcohol, or rather his lack of it. He hadn't had a single drink since Manaan. And withdrawal? It was one cold schutta. His body sweated profusely. His breath was slow, hard, forced almost as it became harder and harder to breath with every pebble strike. His stomach turned circles and flipped in what was a powerful nausea, one that wasn't aided by the constant barrage of pebbles at his stomach. But he had to be strong. That was what the Sith wanted right? To detox him? To get rid of his weakness of alcohol? Make him a stronger pawn? If that was what Carach wanted then that was what Qun would give him. Or try to. He had lost his lunch to this pebble launcher twice already, causing the process to stop as the room was cleaned. He wouldn't do so again if he could help it. But despite his attempts at self-control his four arms and his neck began to ache insufferably as he felt a powerful squeeze in his chest. If the doctors advising Carach had any monitoring equipment on him they would have recognized the combination of symptoms for what it was.

The beginnings of a heart attack.

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Qun Vell"]

‘Sire, the subject is exhibiting the beginnings of what seems to be a heart attack.’ the scientist shared with Carach, who was still frowning at the entire ordeal. Something was nagging at him, trying to remind him of something he should be aware of, something that wou--- alcohol.

The Sith Lord sighed. ‘Stabilize his condition, we will start again soon.’

But this time Qun would get some wodka with his medicine, just a theory really. But at this point it was all he had left and Carach wasn’t the man to discard theories just like that.

 

[Qun Vell]

Doctors rushed into Qun's cell with a haste that implied fear. Perhaps of him, perhaps of Carach, perhaps of the consequences of inaction, Qun did not know. He couldn't really tell how of many of them there were or what they were saying, he just knew they surrounded him and that the pebbles were no longer coming at him. Drugs were shoved into his mouth, plastic tubes plunged into his nostrils. Thrombylotics dissolved the blood clots in his system as oxygen was forced into his body, and Qun began to stabilize. A collective sigh of relief from the One Sith medical staff as he left the mortal danger threshold. Once it was clear he wouldn't re-enter such a dangerous state they slowly began to leave, until Qun was once again alone.

He didn't know how long it was before one of the doctors came back. A few hours perhaps? Certainly not long enough to be days, but he was given some more medicine, a liquid concoction he had to swallow. He didn't know what it was but he took it anyways. If they wanted him dead he wouldn't have made it here, and the mentalist Darth Carach didn't need drugs to find what he wanted. All he needed to do was ask, Qun was his servant after all. But the medicine? He could sworn he felt the slight taste of vodka, as if were mixed in with whatever else was in there. Probably something to aid with the withdrawal symptoms, but he could feel it now. The power of the Force, it was around him, recognizable, flexible, commandable. He wasn't sure what to do with it, but he could feel it.

And of course, the pebble-turret resumed it's beating course. It hit him once, twice, before Qun decided he would have no more of this pebble barrage. Closing his eyes and pulling moving his neck in the direction he wanted to pull Qun did not stop the pebbles from coming, nor redirect their course. Instead he changed the angle of the pebble-turret, to fire at something else. Specifically the one-way mirror that [member="Darth Carach"] was probably observing him from. Depending on the power of the pebbles, Qun may or may not have been able to see his captor in a few moments, along with a lot of broken glass.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Qun Vell"]

The pebbles hit the glass one by one, the first not doing a lot, but by the third little cracks started to appear. Around that time the pebble-shooter stopped working.

It seemed Qun wouldn’t get a solid view of his Master just yet.

‘Test confirmed, my Lord.’ the scientist mentioned, which had been clear to pretty much everyone inside and outside of the room. But Carach allowed the eccentricity for now.

An idea was forming inside of his mind, the Sith Lord doubted Qun really needed alcohol to function with the Force. A mind block, probably. But he wasn’t sure if he would be able to fix it, if the mindfrakkery hadn’t done anything to it then it would probably be more trouble than it was worth.

Instead… they could make this more interesting.

‘Interesting’ he echoed his own thoughts. ‘I think we can turn this into an experiment of some kind, doctor.’

‘What would you like to do with the subject?’

‘He proved he can be of some use to me. Sedate him and get him cleaned up - our dear Qun has earned some rest.’

 

[Qun Vell]

The pebble turret stopped after it's third shot into the window, and the rumblings of Sith Lord and doctors conversing on the other side was completely absent to Qun's senses. His first thought was to use the Force to pick up all these pebbles on the ground, to toss them at the window and try to break it, but the thought was confusing to him. His impulse was to escape, but he wished to serve Darth Carach. Further his power financially, politically, and most importantly in the Force. Why did he have such conflicts? Qun attempted to bury the thought in his mind as the door opened and doctors again flooded into the room. The pebbles were collected, the machine deactivated and carried off, Qun himself was cleaned. A welcome change, though a bit of a humiliating one considering his chained and unmoving position. With little else to do as time passed Qun's eyes grew weary, and he wandered off to sleep.

Upon awakening he would notice three changes in the room. One, the cracked mirror was replaced with a less damaged counterpart. Two, in front of him lay a table with a double shot-glass and a bottle of Whyren's Reserve atop it. Third, to the side of table stood a woman, lavender hued, suggestively dressed, with a pair of tails split across the back of her head. Qun wasn't sure whether he enjoyed the sight of bottle or twi'lek more. She smiled as she saw he awoke, popped off the cap of Whyren's Reserve, and began pouring it.

"I've heard you've done well for our master." She said as the whiskey flowed into the glass before she filled it, putting the bottle back on the table. "This is good. Darth Carach is a strong and powerful man who takes notice of his thralls." She said as she took the glass and walked over towards Qun. He watched her cautiously, ever ready for some test from Darth Carach. Just because pebbles weren't being thrown at him didn't mean he wasn't underwatch, or that he wasn't expected to serve. When the twi'lek was just a hair's width away she took the glass and raised it to his mouth, slowly pouring the drink in.

Damn that's smooth. He thought to himself as the drink entered his mouth and went down his throat.

"But he sees how we help him. Understands what efforts me make." The whiskey continued to flow into Qun's mouth, in a painfully yet savory slow pace. "You take care of him, and he will take care of you." The whiskey was done, and the twi'lek leaned over his shoulder, baiting whispers in his ears. "And perhaps I will too." She said, letting a single finger drift from the back of his head along his neck as she pulled away from him, taking the shot glass, the whiskey, and the table as she headed out. Qun reached out, just drunk enough to extend his mind, and implanted a command in the woman with mind and speech.

"You will leave that here." He said, and she paused before looking directly at him and replying.

"I will . . . leave this . . . Outside." She finally said, with a smirk before leaving his cell, leaving him with nothing. It seemed that Carach had prepared his servants for such manipulation. Qun sighed. He had probably failed another of the Sith's tests.

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Qun Vell"]

‘What did he try to do?’ the Sith Lord questioned the twi’lek, now clad in a Shadow Guard uniform… it seemed she hadn’t been a simple servant. The real question was if it had all been part of a plot, a plan to test the new apprentice in how he would act towards his own desire and the control of it. To be fair… dangling alcohol in front of an addict’s nose and seeing if he would try everything in his power to keep it wasn’t entirely hard or life changing.

But it was that first step, and that first step would mean everything in the world. In the end Carach simply listened to his guard and then nodded at the briefing, a smile would briefly flash before he got himself under control again.

Things were going relatively well.

Qun wouldn’t get to see his new Master for a few more days, in those days he would be subjected to more tests and every time he failed… he would be punished, everytime he accomplished something the reverse happened.

Such was the way of things.

Eventually Carach would knock on the cell door, before opening it and studying the contents.

‘Evening.’

 

[Qun Vell]

For he next few days Qun would undergo a series of trials, though he wasn't exactly told what they were. Mostly stopping pebbles or other objects from hitting him. They were all done with varying levels of alcohol in his system, with Qun only having to defend himself while sober a couple times. Seems they had all the data they needed in such respects. The objects themselves were of differing masses and hurled at differing velocities, and through this Qun could infer that they wanted to see how strong he was and how much of that was his alcohol. He wasn't particularly strong of course due to simple lack of training and practice, but he still managed to stop a decent bit of the attacks.

Of course, launched objects weren't the only things Qun had to deal with. Small beasts were thrown into Qun's cell as well, with Qun having to find a way to neutralize them without getting out of his locks. Luckily none of them were really deadly but they got progressively dangerous one after another. Qun got by with most of them by concentrating his mind on them, making them fall asleep. Not a trick he could pull on a more complex being, but something to work on simple mostlly non-sentient creatures. The doctors were somewhat baffled however, as some of the beasts came back with signs of alcohol poisoning, as if they had been convinced that they were also drunk. A side effect of drunken mind tricks perhaps.

The third type of tests that would be conducted on him were simple, if only because they were involuntary. The scientists would administer a certain level of alcohol in him and then poke or prod him from differing angles at differing times. Though he didn't quite understand it the men were testing his reflexes, measuring his reaction time. normally a man in a drunken stupor had significantly slower reactions but Qun's actually got faster as he got drunker. They were never as fast a person with his connectivity of the Force should be normally, but they were still faster than the Besalisk could manage sober. More data Carach would have for when his moment came.

The day came finally when he stopped playing around with the near pavlovian reward system, and Qun would hear a knock on the door. Odd. The scientists had never knocked. It wasn't like Qun was really in a position to restrict or allow someone entrance. He remained silent but observant, looking at the door in his current sobriety. The door would open soon enough, with [member="Darth Carach"] entering the room and examining it thoroughly. As if someone had ripped it up and put in a new carpet or something.

"Evening." He said, and though part of it felt wrong in the center of his gut, Qun had only one response he could give.

"My Master." Qun replied, bowing his head as much as a locked up a Besalisk could manage and waited for the ability to raise his head. Kids listening at home? That's why you don't fight Sith Lord Mentalists forty posts into your character.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Qun Vell"]

For a while Carach would simply study the man, beast, apprentice, his features were relatively neutral and so it wasn't clear what the man was thinking. But the burning eyes didn't imply a lot of good for the future, eventually Qun would receive a mental impulse, approval and permission to raise himself from his position. Nothing really happened afterwards, the Sith Lord kept up his study, noting his apprentice's appearance, the way the room slash cell looked, before turning around and seemingly leaving.

Two seconds later he returned with another chair, placing it next to the door within the cell and closing the exit. The Voice once again took his time, but finally found a comfortable position for his backside and burning eyes settled themselves upon the former padawan.

Slightly unsettling, but then the Sith Lord spoke to him.

"How are you feeling, my Apprentice?"

 

[Qun Vell]

[member="Darth Carach"]

Qun kept his head lowered until he felt something, a suggestion, nod, that made him think he should raise his head. It neck craned upwards very slowly to look at the Sith Lord, but the man only watched, never speaking. For but a moment he left, returning with a simple folded chair. He put it just inside the door of the cell, opening it while closing the door and taking a seat. He attempted to swivel his hips for a moment as he found a more comfortable position for himself. As he finally settled into the chair he looked over at Qun and finally spoke.

"How are you feeling, my Apprentice?"

Apprentice. That felt good to hear. He had never had a role like that before. Something valued. Something important. Qun kept his smile hidden, but only barely, and only physically. The mentalist would probably feel his approval.

"A bit chaffed." Qun replied, referring to his chains. Perhaps that was a bit too casual for talking to his teacher, but he still had a bit too much alcohol in his system to impede such thoughts.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Qun Vell"]

Bemusement. Good way to describe Carach's current disposition, he wasn't like most Sith Lords. At least not most of the time, only when you really pissed him off or otherwise pushed the boundary would that particular beast appear. In the meanwhile this was mostly just amusing, he wasn't here to torture Qun, bully him, or whatever the feth most Sith Lords did with their would-ne apprentices. He simply wished to know how Qun was doing, perhaps it was simple curiosity, but it was more likely the Voice of the Dark Lord was becoming protective over his new trainee.

"Have they been treating you justly?" They was an umbrella term for the various scientists and other personnel in charge of testing Qun and his limits. Just... well that was a different question, Carach was very interested to hear Qun's reply.

 

[Qun Vell]

[member="Darth Carach"]

Justly? At this point he was a caged animal. A lab rat. Sure, he wasn't facing constant injections everyday, and he had been given quite a few free drinks, but he hadn't moved from the same spot in . . . two weeks? Three maybe? Time was hard to tell. His clothes were changed for him, waste disposed of, fed forcefuly in humiliating fashion. Qun might have known he didn't face the worst of imprisonments, but he still knew he was in prison. But was that really the way to answer his master? No, no, Qun could think of something better than that.

"Justly? No. But they've done nothing to me that I can't handle." Qun responded, figuring that was the 'sithy' way to respond.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Qun Vell"]

The Sith Lord simply pondered while listening to Sun's thoughts and making up his own mind about it. Truthfully, Qun had misunderstood him when he had asked about justness, but perhaps tat had been his fault for not being entirely clear about his meaning. Can't expect the apprentice to know keenly what the Master meant at first try, could you? And so he clarified his question.

Imprisonment had been necessary, the treatment too. Those were not the things that had worried the Sith Lord, it was as Qun had said... it was nothing he couldn't handle. Qun would feel just a tingle of pride coming from his Master at the phrasing. It showed that Carach had chosen right in keeping him, instead of letting him drown on Manaan.

"When the scientists ask you to do something in a test, are they fair? Or do you feel like they cheat in order for you to fail."

In the organization of a Sith there were always those who tried to undermine common processes, they see a threat to their position and sometimes attempt to neutralize it before it becomes a problem. A new apprentice to their Master? One of the biggest threats to status quo.

 

[Qun Vell]

[member="Darth Carach"]

Qun thought for a moment in reply to the Master's question. It seemed he hadn't given the answer Carach was looking for the first time. Still, he emanated no malice or rage at his response, at least none further than Qun could detect normally. Perhaps a failure in communication rather than competence then. That was good, or better he supposed. If the master throught him incompetent? He would not last long. Nor should he.

"The majority of the scientists test me with increasing difficulty. Say the rocks? They'll make it go faster or bigger until I can't with my current strength." He said, not admitting that it wasn't a problem he couldn't handle, but rather a problem he couldn't handle right now. "But one of them starts the opposite. Hurl the biggest rock he can and then go smaller until I can push it. Columi. Scar on his right eye. Burns on his left arm. Travels in a floating chair rather than walking." Qun said. He couldn't tell for certain, but he could have sworn the scientist had the Force. Perhaps that was why his tests were harsher than the others.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Carach simply pondered on this revelation for a while, in itself it was nothing of concern. But it suggested something and that suggestion was not to his liking, eventually he nodded. Nothing else was forthcoming, [member="Qun Vell"] would not know if his Master would do anything about the situation, or if he would content himself with simply letting it play out.

Perhaps… and then the Sith Lord smiled, not a pleasant one that. It was a smile that suggested he had thought up something, a trick, a ploy, a new game to entertain him with.

‘I have decided you are ready.’ he simply stated. ‘You will be given quarters within my estate, freedom of movement. Don’t disappoint me, apprentice and you will see that this is just the beginning.’

 

[Qun Vell]

[member="Darth Carach"]

The Sith Lord continued his sit for a long while, presumably pondering the information Qun had given him. Qun was no mentalist, unable to read his thought, nor an empath, unable to read his emotions, nor was Carach forthcoming in his expressions, leaving Qun unable to read his body language. Perhaps Carach would do something about it, perhaps Carach approved of his actions, there was no way to know. In time the Voice smiled, though it was not a smile of pleasantry or rougish wit, though it was close. It was the smile of a man who knew something about you that you didn't. Something that was probably very important. The Sith Lord spoke the moment after his lips curled and stated dryly that Qun was ready. To leave this place, to join Carach at his estate, to gain the ability to roam around again. But it was not without cost. A cost of competence and service to Darth Carach. A price a mind-frakked Qun was willing to pay.

"I will not fail you my Master."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Qun Vell"]

And that was that, there really wasn’t all that much else to discuss here. Rooms would be readied for the apprentice, not lavish ones though, they still wouldn’t be comparable to the rooms of one Spark Finn. They would be spartan in their decoration, only the most necessary of necessity would be provided, but there would always be that silent reminder.

The reminder that if he does good, if he does better, if he pleases his Master that there would be more. So much more. And everytime he did, the Sith Lord gave him that gratification and presently good, wine here, scotch there, wodka everywhere.

But it would be given in moderation, only in battle would Qun be allowed to drink more than the minimum. This would serve two purposes. One, he would crave the battlefields for the elixer they allowed him to have there and two, it might just gnaw away this restrictive notion of drunkenness to be able to use the Force.

That being said, other plans were being made, to perhaps accommodate the new Hand of the Sith Lord.