Private This Tab Comes With Interest

[Cyprian Ichar]

Shatterstar (Balarac HQ), Deep Space​

Continued from Eye of the Storm

True to his word, the surviving Emberline who had defended the terraforming station were treated well under his custody, while allied mercenaries were cut loose to resume their freelancing. Quite a few flipped sides, coming under the employ of the Balarac as they keenly sensed a shakeup in the ongoing civil war - they wanted to be on the winning side still possessing a head to spend their earnings.

One such mercenary could now be found in the medbay, undergoing a minor procedure to remove toxins from her system. Cyprian had failed to notice that Penny had been hit with a Thresher just prior to their duel, so he couldn't warn her how useless the bacta shot would be in combating the weaponized venom. Necrosis would only be slowed as the bacta regenerated new cells just to see them quickly destroyed again.

The skilled physicians, healers, and med droids present in the medbay were all quite familiar with the after effects of the Balarac's signature nightmare weapon, but that didn't make the treatment process any less painful, even with drug relievers and neural blockers.

Needless to say, the medbay was rife with screams and howls.

It was to this cacophony that the Lord Commander emerged on the scence, now present to check on the progress of his favorite patient. As usual, the man walked with is armor, the very same kit he had worn only hours before, but the gunmetal plating now gleamed from a fresh polishing. Perhaps a good thing he did, as his helmet's filters scrubbed the odor of necrotic tissue. A few of the medical staff perked up at the sight of the Lord Commander, but most continued with their work as if he wasn't there. All of them were much too busy to entertain pomp and salutes, and they knew Cyprian didn't care much on his end, so long as they showed a basic level of respect when directly addressed.

"How is Smiley today?"

He knew her full name - or what she had given - by now, but the nickname stuck.

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

The screaming and crying Penny could drown out, so long as it wasn't coming from some poor soul right next to her. As unsympathetic as that seemed, she could detach herself emotionally, if she focused, and let it meld into senseless background noise. Enough bloody and traumatic encounters had that affect.

The smell though...

It was akin to wafting through a sea of rotting corpses. The sense of smell was by far the most difficult thing to control without using another scent to block the offending odors, even with her meditation. In fact, it was so potent, it distracted her from meditating as productively. She'd take an increase in physical pain in place of enduring that smell in a heartbeat.

Nevertheless, she laid there quietly. Giving the impression she was asleep with her eyes closed. Only the subtle expression of concentration on her face and slightly knit eyebrows suggested otherwise. She was flat on her stomach, bare back facing the ceiling in her prone position for treatment. Revealing more skin than most would be comfortable with, but nothing inappropriate was exposed.

The wound on her back was larger than she ever anticipated, until she was hauled into the medbay. One perk of it being in an inconvenient location, she didn't have to look at it, and it was startlingly disgusting. The tips of some vertebra had been exposed, layers of skin, muscle, and fat in varying degrees of erosion, but the worst damage had infiltrated her thoracic cavity. The toxin had performed a number on her lungs, diaphragm, and threatened to dissolve some major arteries and veins. The only thing that stopped it was injecting the bacta, buying her time for proper healing to begin.

A clear, gelatinous substance coated the raw tissues, shielding it from the drying air and potentially infectious agents. A few inches above, small silver orbs hovered, with tiny lights that flickered as they autonomously shifted from one area to another. Bathing her back in a pale blue glow. They were virtually silent, but they sent vibrations through her torso as they worked. She didn't know what they were doing precisely, but they weren't painful, and she was thankful for that small mercy. Her insides burned and sparked with livewire-nerves with each breath she took.

'How is Smiley today?'

If she sensed his approach, Penny gave no indication. With her eyes closed and head turned to one side, she gave him a cheeky grin that was obviously strained.

"Good morning, Lord Commander." She murmured, "Or evening. Are we even on a planet right now? I've lost track of time." The dry chuckle that followed quickly reminded her that laughing was a mistake, and her chest seized in the sudden spike of pain.

"I'm doing fantastic. How are you? I hope you're not mutilating any armies without me." Humor was usually how she coped with...any flavor of difficulty in her life. And in time, he would find just how much coping she was doing, by how frequently she fell to humor...whether it was appropriate or not.

In the back of her mind, Penny found it a little curious that he bothered to come see her...but she reasoned she would be doing the same, if the roles were switched. A Force user was always a prize possession, for any organization. They were living, creative weapons. One must always keep tabs on them. Plus, she did ruin an expensive piece of equipment of his. Maybe he was about to give her an assignment to get her started on the 70-year journey of paying him back.

Cyprian Ichar

 

[Cyprian Ichar]

"I can see that..."

Laid out on the table, Penny looked absolutely dreadful, with wounding so deep that he imagined that he could shove his hand almost cleanly through the blackened lacerations without much effort. The Threshers had been Cyprian's brainchild, but even he still remained surprised by their effectiveness. Who knows what her fate would have been if left to a field hospital in hostile care on Isonov.

Like the time he had downed her in her duel, she tried to approach the situation with her usual dark humor, but was rewarded for her troubles with painful spasms. His eyes shifted toward holographic displays above her, which revealed the true depths of the necrosis, in addition to other trauma she suffered as direct result of their duel.

She was more battered than he initialized realized, the bacta shot she took probably being the only reason she was still breathing.

The cheeky Forcer may have started to notice a pressure rising against her very being, Cyprian's aura intermingling with hers as he directed psychic energies into her. It began as one large wave, but soon divided into a multitude of infinitesimal tendrils, each snaking their way through the tissue. It wouldn't be a painful experience, but she would certainly be able to sense the energy percolating through her body in rivulets.

"We're not in the business of terror, but from a certain perspective, I will acknowledge how our dominance could be perceived as such."

Each psychic tendril struck a toxic particulate like a microscopic bullet, shattering them into harmless base proteins and molecules. Cyprian was no healer, but he was an alchemist, and there was no one better to destroy a construct than the creator himself. This wouldn't revive the dead tissue, but the machines and bacta would have a much easier time doing their job as he accelerated the removal of the venom itself.

"You're quite...glib about your losses. Are you really so callous, or is this just your way of coping?"

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

'...not in the business of terror...'

It took a small effort, but Penny suppressed another, skeptical laugh. The discomfort wouldn't have been worth it. "Then the galaxy can count its blessings for that small mercy... It is a role you Balarac fulfill expertly." There came a quiet sigh, and then she stiffened slightly. Physically, there was little change, but as his energy permeated through hers, he'd feel initial resistance. Nothing harsh, just something comparable to trying to push water through mud, and then it faded, once she realized what he was doing.

An instinctive reflex. Block anything that tried to 'invade'. One thing the Force user was exceptionally good at was steeling herself against such 'attacks', but she was more adept at combatting a telepathic intrusion.

The toxic molecules were denatured into their harmless, organic building blocks to be disposed of naturally by her body. She couldn't feel the direct effect yet, but she could sense a change almost instantly, as the gentle tendrils wove through afflicted tissues. Eventually, the small silver orbs ceased their systematic movements. Tiny colored lights flashed white, signaling completion of their task in light of the disappearing toxin, and they drifted into a metallic compartment. His direct interference was faster.

"...Thank you." Penny murmured after a pause. No cheekiness this time. "I was trying to do something about it myself, but I'm not very good at the healing arts. This isn't an easy place to meditate, anyway."

She couldn't remember the last time a Force user assisted her so personally. It might have been her own mother, come to think of it...but that was some time ago now. Before she was swept into the maelstrom of Wild Space. A place only the callous seemed to thrive. Out here, much of her encounters with other Force users had been a little tense, if not outright hostile.

Opening her eyes, she glanced up to him from her awkward prone position. There was nothing at all offensive in his words, but something in them struck a chord with her. If he was wanting something candid, then she would oblige this time. "My losses? I lost almost everything worth losing long before Emberline. You...just opened another door for me. Every day I'm alive, I count as a win. The rest is ephemeral distractions on my journey forward."

Then another little smirk came, and she added quietly, "You haven't seen callous."

"Enough about me... What can I do for you, Lord Commander? I'm not in tip top shape yet, but I've worked under worse conditions."

Cyprian Ichar

 

[Cyprian Ichar]

"That wasn't healing," he corrected. "Just a more delicate application of my expertise you so praise. You're no slouch yourself."

A reference to their first contact on Isonov, where she had completely totaled his (very expensive) main battle tank with that strange ability of hers. It hadn't merely been a telekinetic crush, as further examination proved as much. Entire chunks of the tank had been found that resembled pieces of shattered glass. She probably didn't realize how close she had come to changing the course of the battle, if only a little more precision had been exerted on her part. He was quite fortunate that she had missed, and then surrendered to his care. Such power was an invaluable asset.

Her other qualities were a welcome bonus.

"So then you're an optimist as well as a comedian, that's certainly a niche we could use filling."

Cyprian himself was ever hopeful about completing his crusade, but never delusional. There was no assurance that the "good" guys would overcome the rising chaos. There was no indication they even deserved it as the Bryn plowed through all opposition with impunity. How could weakness ever be good?

"Enough about you? I barely know a single thing about you, Miss Rasales. I'd certainly to hear more but my second coommand to you is...to stay put." It was a lot like his first order. "You're no good to me half dead. When your treatments are complete, we'll meet again in my chambers. Until then, be a good subordinate and brush up on your Curato with the staff. Good day to you."

He lingered for a bit, head tiled slightly, but otherwise his expression remained impossible to read beyond his armor. In that space, the gentle pressure of his touch on her in the Force would recede as well.

Still quiet, he simply turned and left. However, healers soon filled the void he had left, doting on her in a way they hadn't before.

Penny had been identified as an Aspirant, one of the Lord Commander's chosen.

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

No, it wasn't healing by definition. It allowed the real healing to begin though, that at least she could sense. It was like a perpetual veil of decay had been lifted from her body. The physical rot was still there, but the dead cells would slough away, and now new ones could not only generate, but actually gain a foothold. With it, the pain would ebb away as well.

It really did hurt. More than she revealed. That was another talent of hers, in a related vein of barricading anyone but those with expertise in prying into her mind. She was good at enduring pain. The downside was that she had created a dangerous habit of masking what she perceived as weakness, or vulnerability, to the point of pushing herself beyond what she could safely manage, at times. More than once she had only relented after physical collapse, which Cyprian already witnessed. A bad habit indeed, for someone who didn't excel in Curato.

Not that she was bad at self-healing. It just took her more time and effort than perhaps it would a Jedi. One more thing her mother continuously tried to instill in her to take seriously, before she died. Penny would have that aha moment one day. Likely once she was officially one with the Force itself, floating blissfully beyond space and time.

'...I barely know a single thing about you...'

Yes, that was the point, Lord Commander. Don't take an interest. Just give the busy-bee a task already, so she could slip off under the pretense of productively. Then drop off radar entirely when he least expected it, as she returned to the wilds of the out rim to renew her original mission -- find and kill her fiancee.

That wasn't going to happen, though. Penny didn't know that yet, but her single-minded purpose in life was about to alter course, and expand significantly.

Cyprian would depart with little more than an agreeable and pleasant acknowledgment from her, though she lingered on what he said for some time after. She wondered what he had in store for her, now that he had an idea of what she could do. No doubt he would want her to use that Shatterpoint technique again in the future. There was more she was capable of, but that move tended to draw attention. She wasn't sure yet how much of a microscope she was under though, or if the Commander of the Balarac had ulterior motives and secret plans of his own, disguised by generosity and mercy.

Of course he did. No one commands anything, least of all in Wild Space, without some degree of subterfuge. The suspicion was unfortunate, but warranted.

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It took some time, but Penny was finally released from by the small flock of healers. Their presence made her a bit claustrophobic, but she allowed them to finish their duty and mend her. The experience did give her a good kick in he butt to start working on her own Curato techniques, if only to expedite her 'discharge' from the medbay. An even bigger push came from the routine visitation by Zosma, who took the opportunity to lash her with a verbal beating for nearly dying in the first place.

Nevertheless, within a few days she was free to wander the great corridors of the ship, and it was...a unique thing to explore. She knew where to find the Commander's quarters by now, but she took the scenic route to get there. Walking at a leisurely pace, as if sight-seeing. The surfaces were smooth, the walls exceptionally high, climbing into murky shadows above. The space was much more vast than she was used to being in on a ship. Whomever built it originally valued a darker aesthetic with sharp, clean angles. It was like touring a massive and minimalistic, power-exuding...temple.

Despite its design, it didn't come with an empty feeling. Compared to what she did sense, Penny almost preferred emptiness. No matter where she went, if she was walking around or passing a group of people, there was a presence. An essence of something, or some things, tainting the ship. As if it was a part of it. Something built within, but intangible. An umbrella of dark aura that watched, listened, and at times even seemed to whisper.

It wasn't daunting, but it did keep the Force user alert and inquisitive.

When she arrived, she was back to her normal self--not that he would know what her normal was. Wearing new clothes retrieved from her salvaged ship that was on board the Shatterstar somewhere. Nothing fancy, and no armor. Dark grey pants tucked into a pair of supple boos, and a long-sleeved cream colored shirt. Her hair was left down, reaching her shoulder blades. Neatly combed, but plain.

"Did you know your ship is haunted? It's nothing serious. I'm pretty sure mine is haunted as well. It's ju--" The informal greeting she started with was cut short when she physically entered his living space, and beheld the artistically shaped trees and foliage within. Something one might find hidden in an ancient, mystical forest on a long forgotten planet. Penny's mouth snapped shut, and she stared with wide, appreciative eyes at the new scenery. A stark contrast to the inanimate structure of the ship itself.

"This is not what I expected." She chimed quietly in approval.

Cyprian Ichar

 

[Cyprian Ichar]

Bleak obsidian corridors gave way to a bright airy biome overflowing with lush fragrant foliage that carpeted the ground and winded up ivory pillars towards light projectors above. Penny wouldn't find herself alone, several tenders moving about performing maintenance on the garden.

"They're no trouble to you," Cyprian's voice echoed through the space. "Save that you mind your manners. Only our enemies need worry about the Stalkers."

As it had likely been apparent in her walk, the Shatterstar was no ordinary ship, seeped in old Magicks. Non Force-sensitives ordinarily felt nothing out of the ordinary, but Force Users, for better or worse, could always detect an ethereal presence born of said Magick's influence.

"And you're not my enemy are, you?"

Cyprian emerged at her left side from between two large spindly trees, their ashen branches heavy with silvery violet fruit. As usual, he was donned in full armor. Even within the inner sanctum of the Balarac, he maintained his shell.

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

His voice rang loud and clear, but Penny seemed not to hear. The fairytale biome that sprawled out before her was captivating. The more she stood there and looked, the harder it was to tear her focus away. The last time she saw anything remotely this beautiful and inviting was on her home planet, and even those lush gardens were few and far between. And here this was...floating in an ominous, 'haunted' temple in the vast emptiness of Wild Space.

The once perky Force user wasn't just quiet as her eyes passed over the trees and vines in attentive appreciation. There was heaviness to her aura. Immersed in thought as she was pulled in to the scenery. The foliage looked as if it was meant to slowly blanket everything in an organic collage of blooms, leaves, and what appeared to be fruit. Surrounding them on all sides, though there were obvious paths kept clean throughout the colorful and delicate aesthetic.

She didn't touch anything...but she wanted to. More than anything, she wanted to lay down right there and roll around in the soft, inviting, living carpet. It had been a long time since she set foot in a place she actually wanted to be in. A place that wasn't harsh, or barren, or just dominated by technology and machinery.

"You're not my enemy, are you?"

She heard these words, and they mulled over in the back of her mind for a minute or two before she finally responded. "What does the Force tell you?" She asked in return. Unaware of what he could really pick up in her presence, but she knew he couldn't do any serious diving into her mind unless he made an obvious, invasive attempt. The surface thoughts weren't guarded so much, but they did become murky when she entered the biome. Mostly because she didn't like the feelings that involuntarily stirred up.

Whatever he thought, or felt, she turned to look at him and smiled slightly. "Not today..." A joke. Or was it? Nothing was permanent, after all.

"What are these 'stalkers' of yours? Some kind of guardian spirits?" Speaking louder after clearing her throat, she tried returning to her initial disposition, but it wasn't the same now.

Cyprian Ichar

 

[Cyprian Ichar]

She initially deflected at his first question, which Cyprian was quickly learning was her standard Modus Operandi. Like him, she also cocooned herself in a shell, but one cast from subterfuge instead of steel.

"I have a feeling you wouldn't like what the Force would have to say."

To accentuate his point, he pressed against her mind with a sudden probe focused into a point. In the next moment, the pinprick dissipated.

"Because in the Force there is only the bare truth."

He gave her a once over in her new garb, dark grey combat fatigues that issued a temporary clothing. It was the same style of dress worn by most normal crewman aboard the Shatterstar while on duty, but the uniform lacked a name tape and insignia.

"I will say, though, my nose tells me that your rehabilitation was a success."

When she asked about the Stalkers, he couldn't help but chuckle at her assessment.

"Spirits, no. I think they would be closer to the general concept of demons."

Guardian devils.

Despite his armored appearance, he was quite nimble on his feet, quietly sidestepping her while his armor made not a single clank in transition. Quality hand forged pieces rarely did. Near a large bushel of violet stalks, he twisted off a tip of a stem and the extended it toward her.

"I don't think you'll want to walk around smelling like disinfectant the rest of the day."

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

"I strike you as someone who fears the truth, Lord Commander?" The response this time was quick, and even sharp. Not in defense...just in a manner of someone who was well versed in witty banter. Dubious as she was, she relished such exchanges. "Personally, I don't believe I have the luxury of such a fear." An interesting statement, which she didn't expound on.

Venturing slowly into the brightly lit labyrinth of plants, she returned to letting her eyes wander over virtually everything but him. Though this time, her focus wasn't nearly so rapt. She paid more attention to him now, in her seemingly carefree wandering, and curiously noted how quietly he moved. A discovery that was perturbing. Someone with such quality armor and deadly skill had no business moving like a shadow. A juggernaut assassin, with a jetpack to boot. Let's not forget his prowess in the Force, which he just reminded her of with that intrusive little mental probe.

But that only mattered if he was her enemy, didn't it... Penny reckoned he was infinitely more useful as her ally. So far, they were on an amicable, mutually beneficial path, it seemed.

"Demons..." She mused with an upward tilt of her chin. The description itself didn't bother her, but it did stir up more questions. She might get to asking them later. Right now, these 'demons' were of no trouble to her, and that's what mattered.

Penny glanced down as he offered her the pretty, fragrant stalk. Slowly, she took it in hand and lifted it closer to inhale its scent. "Mmm... I've been surrounded by disinfectant for so long, I think I've lost the ability to smell it anymore. But this is nice...I'll take it to spare your nose, hm?" Ah, so this was the reason he summoned her here! To make her smell better! Well, she wouldn't complain. Her only complain would be when she had to shuffle herself out into the obsidian corridors again. Until then, she would work on committing this beauty to her memory.

Penny smirked, continuing her stroll and appreciating the lavender bloom as she kept it close. "Is there a reason you're dressed for a full scale war, or do you just like your armor that much? Surely you have nothing to fear from your own gardeners."

Cyprian Ichar

 

[Cyprian Ichar]

This time, Cyprian's armor did creak as he rumbled with a new round of laughter.

"If I feared the truth, then neither of us would be speaking right now. I'd still be at home, deluding myself with the off chance that the Bryn would simply overlook my backwater planet in the middle of Wild Space. Perhaps like so many countless others. 'It just won't happen to me'."

"Demons..." he repeated as he caught up with her within a couple long strides. "Even I wouldn't say that word accurately captures what they are, but they certainly appear demonic to those who get on their bad side."

The inevitable question about his armor wearing habits came. He took a few moments to answer, considering if should meet her shiftiness in kind.

"I wear it because I need it," he finally replied matter-of-factly.

It was true, usually he needed his armor outside his personal quarters (which they were still quite far from), but failed to provide proper context.

"It's wise to remain wary of everyone, no matter how pleasant they may seem."

No too far along the path was another hedge of flowers, all electric blue with colors so rich they hardly seemed real. A butterfly flitted along, landing on one of the petals as if to draw on nectar. Not even a full second after it landed, the petals snapped shut around the butterfly into a crushing embrace.

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

"Wild Space is dark, and full of terrors." She agreed with a small sigh, finally allowing herself to drag her fingertips across a luscious vine scaling a pillar in passing. It was just as soft as she hoped.

"Are the Bryn responsible for your ambitions, then? Or would you be the Lord Commander of an army without them, with independent pursuits in mind? The goodwill you've shown everyone willing to surrender on Isonov is no secret, but there are strings attached."

Penny slowed her already leisurely pace to observe the brilliantly blue flowers. "What are you aspirations?" A small butterfly drifted in for a landing. Such a delicate little thing, the likes of which she hadn't seen in...she couldn't say how long. Then the petals closed abruptly, sealing its fate. She watched with interest, and then looked to the armor-encased man next to her.

He was as shifty as she...but this didn't come as a surprise, nor did it offend. Being of similar minds, Penny could appreciate his approach. It was wise.

He'd see her eyes trail down, passing over the finely crafted alloy. "You must have found treachery within your ranks, to be so careful." Paranoid. "I imagine it's disturbing to know that it can't protect you from every attack, though..." Shatterpoint came to mind with that assumption of hers, and she traced one of the electric blue petals with her finger. Stirring the blossom to snap shut, but her finger was long gone.

It was a risky implication to make, especially being unacquainted, as they were...but what he would be able to sense from her through the Force was anything but threatening. A little audacious, but not malevolent.

Cyprian Ichar

 

[Cyprian Ichar]

"The Bryn were the catalyst, but hardly the only threat that plagues Wild Space. Billions have now been pushed into my corner as they have tried to flee the advance of the xenocidal hordes, and that development alone has created more instability in a space where there was little to start. Our new neighbors include the likes of the Hutt Cartels, Pirate Lords, and violent savages of the fringe that can barely be classified as sentient."

"My aspirations take pause as I remove the dregs."

Cyprian would never say he was a good man, and he really had no noble ambitions with his efforts. This was all about the well-being of his tribe, and he could not rest until their safety was assured. There was some entertainment to be had along the way, but there was nothing profound about what he was doing.

His armor rattled again from laughter again, both from her question about treachery, and then her seemingly innocuous stroke of the flower.

"I'm quite intimate on the subject of treachery, as I was the traitor...but we don't have time for that story. I expect your arm to go numb any moment now." There was a reason why their flying friend from earlier remained in place for the trap. "I've been mulling over your origins as either a Jedi or a Sith. Only they really bother with those precious lightsabers. However, I didn't think you'd just go out and tell me."

He'd expect her to become wobbly on her feet right about now, as the gift of the flower spread.

"Jedi, I think. A Sith would have been more discerning, and realized the true nature of this place. The Jedi who built this chamber made it specifically to impart an important lesson to their protégé: that as Light illuminates, it can also distract and blind."

Beyond the bright lights, vibrant colors, and sweet scents, the biome was rife with death, as creatures seen and unseen constantly fell victim to the menagerie of toxic flora present. The tenders weren't there just to prune, but to also harvest the toxins.

"Speaking of blindness, that should come soon, compliments of the Azure Nettle. I trust you brushed up on your Curato, and took note of my process earlier? Show me what you can do."

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

So the Bryn were a motivating factor, as were the rest of the barbarian and delinquent forces competing in the outer rim, but his aspirations were separate. Informative, but without exposing much on a personal level. Just like her.

The response he got was little more than a slight node of her head and comprehending noise in the back of her throat, though. The poison she carelessly dabbed on her finger was potent, and its effects were discovered immediately. As soon as she graced the petal, she understood her mistake. Her mind already working to discern its degree of toxicity, and the speed in which it spread.

Judging by how quickly her entire arm was losing sensation, it was pretty damn fast-acting.

Of course she would immediately touch the plant of death. It only made sense.

Many things flit through her thoughts in the short period of time it took for the numbness to progress to ataxia, and then the beginning of blurred vision. One of them being just how many species in this biome were as dangerous as the electric blue flowers. Most? All? Or did she find the only one? Did he want something like this to happen? Foolish as it would be to fully trust him, she found it hard to believe he would waste valuable time and energy healing her, just to incapacitate her again.

"I just left the medbay.." She would murmur, seemingly to herself. "Weeks without seeing a single plant...and then this..." Her balance wavered, and Penny decided to sink to the ground right there, rather than hazard stumbling into yet another plant that might casually murder her.

"Jedi? I am no Jedi." Voice rising louder to answer him, there was a snap of irritation to it. Not because he suspected her of being aligned with either faction. Carrying a light saber did tend to give that impression. She was irritated because her body was actively shutting down, and this was the last thing she wanted to deal with. Least of all while being in an unfamiliar ship, with unfamiliar people and their unknown motives, and she was about to lose control and awareness of everything. "My mother was... Jedi..." Words slurring a little, Penny shut her failing eyes as she sat cross-legged on the path. There was no time to explain more.

"Perhaps... Lord Commander... When next you summon an...unsuspecting guest into a deadly garden with no warning signs...you will inform them not to touch anything. Unless...this was your plan." Curato? Yes, let's hope she did learn a thing or two since her days confined in the medbay. Her life might very well depend on it now.

Penny sat quietly in concentration. Posture straight, face devoid of expression. Like a perfectly serene Jedi Master in meditation. On the inside, there painted a different picture. There was nothing to see with her eyes closed, but she could tell her vision was all but lost now. The rest of her body was in a struggle just to continue functioning. Her breathing took conscious effort. Everything felt as if it were trying to disconnect, which made focusing on neutralizing the neurotoxin difficult, especially for someone who needed more practice in such an art.

Slowly, her posture would wilt, and her head would bow, as if she were falling asleep. Or dying. She was still conscious...but the task was sapping almost all of her focus, and straining it in a way she hadn't experienced before.

Cyprian Ichar

 

[Cyprian Ichar]

"There were plenty of warnings to be observed," he reminded her as she was forced to the ground. "You Jedi vindicate the garden's creation."

Kain and Penny could tell him they were no longer Jedi until all the stars were extinguished from the sky, but it was not an easy thing to break from their heritage and upbringing. It still influenced their actions, in Kain's nostalgia, her defiance.

Perhaps, next time you should ask before you meddle with things that don't belong to you. I gave you a gift, yet you were still greedy for more.

These words were not spoken, but were thoughts he hailed her mind with, as she sure to be losing her hearing as well.

So, how long do you plan on sitting there dying while surrounded by the order's leading toxicologists and xenobiologists?

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

Plenty of warnings... There were, but they were not warnings she heeded. The beauty of this place was overwhelming. Dangerous in its inviting sights and scents. It had been so long since she found herself in such a disarming environment, which had made her want to immerse herself in it all the more. Though she couldn't admit to trusting Cyprian just yet, she apparently wasn't guarded enough. The Lord Commander of the Balarac had proven he was not senselessly vicious and sinister on a level of the Sith, but he also showed just how far he was from benevolent.

Greedy... Forgive me then, Lord Commander. I wasn't aware touching a flower petal was 'greedy'. I won't make that mistake again. Her voice sifted back to him after a pause. It was cold, but resigned. Any trace of humor or personality snapped shut as she struggled with the crushing task of simply trying to keep herself alive and coherent.

I suppose that depends on when you decide to command your own personnel to intervene. Or did you forget your own title?

But she didn't wait for him, or anyone else, to act.

Why should she? He was right when he said she should brush up on her abilities. Relying on him just enhanced her vulnerability, and that was dangerous. Weak. The outer rim didn't entertain weakness.

Her heart was beating too fast, hastening the effects of the toxin as it raced through her system. In the peak of its grip, Penny considered for a moment that she might already be dead, and just hadn't realized it yet. Nearly all of her senses had snuffed out. Whether she was even sitting upright now was a mystery. All that was left was what she felt through the Force itself, and the interference of Cyprian's thoughts as he directed them to her.

Strangely, it was the stirring anger that began to turn the tide in her favor. It sharpened her focus until she blocked out even him, and honed in on the very molecules afflicting her nervous system. Disembodied and sharply attuned as she was, all concept of time and space disappeared. She didn't know how long she sat there. Couldn't even tell how long it felt. Only that it seemed like she was lost in a maze of her own seemingly endless tissues, until her senses began to seep into awareness once more. Noises muffled, like she was underwater. Her eyes were still closed, but there was something there, vaguely distracting her. Just enough to know they still existed. A cool, hard surface provided a dull pressure at her back, indicating that she had fallen after all.

Eventually, he would hear her again. This time speaking with her own clumsy, but determined tongue. If he was even still there... "Your poison is as robust as your treachery."

Cyprian Ichar

 

[Cyprian Ichar]

If her hearing had returned, she'd be able to hear the slightly muffled applause of Cyprian above. He wasn't alone, though, personnel from Medbay flanking him with their distinctive mint jumpsuits.

"With the right triggers, your potential is limitless."

One took a knee by her head, motioning for her to relax, so they could transfer to a repulsor bed for transport. The second kneeled by her side and promptly stabbed her outer thigh with an auto-injector consisting of a cocktail of bacta and cordrazine.

"Let's continue orientation tomorrow, shall we? I'll have supper delivered to you later."

He had taken some humor in her predicament, but with the knowledge that she was never really in serious danger. Then again, he hadn't expected her to start touching random alien carnivorous flora either.

If nothing else, there was never to be a dull moment with that one.

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

The lights and shadows and distorted sounds faded in and out as her concentration wavered continuously. Though she was on the upswing, it would be a very slow-going one on her own. If the medical crew hadn't intervened, Penny would likely have lied there for over a solid 24 hours until she found the strength to climb to her feet again. The Azure Nettle, as he called it, was a powerful poison indeed. One she would not soon forget.

When she did awaken, and manage to keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds, hours had passed. The effort she exerted to not only stop, but reverse the impressive and swift toxin, exhausted her. The first day out of the medbay too, and now she was right back where she started. She wouldn't be there for long, though. She would make sure of that.

Generalized weakness and fatigue lingered in her very bones. Nevertheless, the stubborn Force user mustered the energy to rise from the bed she'd been placed in and swing her legs over the edge. A blur of mint green emerged from her peripheral, but froze mid-step several paces before reaching her. With a raise of her hand, the well-meaning medic was forcibly halted by her, their limbs suddenly heavy as stone.

"I'm fine...thank you." She insisted, calmly but firmly. As her hand fell back down to her lap, the medic was released from the invisible grip, and wisely chose to observe from a distance, rather than press the matter.

It didn't matter if she had to crawl out of there, she was leaving. Painfully empty stomach and all. More than anything, she craved some small comfort. A real bed, a hot bath, privacy... Something more than the offending aroma of disinfectant and rotten flesh, or the bleak walls creeping with unseen, intelligent entities. She was restless, frustrated, and needed to breathe in something different.

Cyprian Ichar

 

[Cyprian Ichar]

Jengu​

"Ma'am," a metallic voice rang out. "You have not yet been cleared to leave."

Heavy thuds and whirring servos followed until a towering droid appeared before the woman, making a snap turn into her path toward the exit. It had all the insignia to mark it as a medical droid, but the hulk was built more like a walking tank, fitted with armor and flak coverings. Its primary receptor glowed green, zooming in on Penny.

"Your condition has been stabilized, but diagnostics still must be performed to ensure that you are no longer at risk of arrhythmia. You have suffered from five instances of organ failure during your current admittance."

The aide that she had frozen before now lingered in the back with a sheepish smile behind their mask, holding a scanner.

"Besides," the droid added. "You would miss a lovely dinner spread left by the Lord Commander. I kept it warm myself. Would you refuse his hospitality?"

The droid posited his words as a question, technically, but his tone suggested he wasn't really asking.

Penny Rasalas

 

[Penny Rasalas]

The grumpy stare she leveled with the clamoring tank of a nurse would have been more fitting for a shrieking child wreaking havoc. It certainly didn't deserve the foul mood radiating from the human, but surely this wasn't the first time an irrational patient attempted to leave against medical advice. If one thing was consistent in her behavior, it was the attitude of Heal? Me? Oh no, I'm totally fine as is. Now if you'll excuse me...

It was clear to see there would be no blowing through this stop sign, though. Not unless she wanted to resort to drastic measures and disable it, but she wouldn't. Couldn't, if she wanted to, she reckoned. But that would be a degree of ungratefulness she wouldn't fall to, anyway.

Sighing in exhaustion, Penny's gaze melted down to zone out at the metal chest in front of her. "Of course not... I am at the Lord Commander's behest. Dinner would be much appreciated." That last part definitely was true, but her overall tone was akin to politely speaking through clenched teeth.

Multi-organ failure, eh. That would explain why she felt like absolute garbage, even with their expert care. There was no denying that she needed more rest. She just wanted to do it...somewhere else.

Cyprian Ichar