While the threeway of [member="Mirien Valdier"], [member="Coryth Elaris"] and Kerrigan prepared for their magical ritual - unfortunately it would not be about sex magic, but the practical task of copying your memories into a holocron since Sith were so fond of mind rape these days - Naamah Aesham, everyone's favourite resident psychopath, was light years away. This could be understood quite literally as a description of location since her XS freighter was currently drifting through the depths of hyperspace.
How had she acquired the freighter? Well, that need not concern us, though it was safe to assume that her means had been both violent and illegal. Likewise it could be assumed that the merchant who had once owned the ship was no longer among the living and that his death had not come to pass through natural means. As a matter of fact, said merchant's flesh had filled her belly a couple hours ago. Nicely roasted and cooked, along with some noodles and vegetables.
The ship was flying on auto-pilot since they were in hyperspace, giving Naamah time to focus upon her studies as she sat on the bed in her bed in her room. Her quarters were obviously spartan, as could be imagined since it was a simple freighter and not a luxury yacht, but as the Clawdite sat ther cross-legged in a meditative position, this suited her just fine. After all, she cared surprisingly little for wealth, temporal luxury and such, though that did not stop her from occasionally 'crashing' the mansion of an aristo or bigwig when it hit her fancy. No, what she cared for was power and the use of it. Power to snuff out the life of others, completely and utterly degrade them, for sentients were her playthings and the Galaxy her playground.
Your membership has been terminated pending police investigation into the disappearance of Ms Aveline Marr.
Galactic E-Dating Staff
Her red lips quirked slightly when she read a message she had received on her datapad. It had been fun while it lasted! Of course, it had not been so fun for Ms Marr. Still, by the time she was found in an abandoned warehouse Naamah had been lightyears away, wearing a different face and using a different name. Besides, it wasn't like Ms Marr was going to be talking to anyone any time soon. Not without a tongue anyway. In all likelihood the poor girl would need to see a therapist to get through her trauma. Not to mention have surgery to replace the breast she had lost.
So she put the datapad away and with the Force pulled a scroll from a small shelf into her grasp. The tome was no ordinary one, for it resonated with the power of the darkside. She only had to stretch out slightly in order to feel its power and the corrupted energies that radiated from it. Darkness suffused every page and not one word upon them was written in Basic, but in the Dark Tongue of the Bando Gora. As she opened the tome, fingers traced across the page where she had read last. A smile graced her lips when she found that reading the words was coming easier to her now. Perhaps her efforts to learn the pure language were paying off, or maybe she was just achieving comprehension because she was becoming more and more connected with the darkside, thereby achieving purity. Every word written in the tome dripped with sheer malice, delivering insight and wisdom. Into the small cruelties, into techniques to cut the fragile threads of life, break and shape lives, for the two went hand in hand.
Her eyes, which were blue-white like those of the Bando Gora cultists, light up with joy when she came to the chapter she had been looking for. It was one about the fabled technique that was colloquially known as Force Drain. It was a power Naamah had been experimenting with for a while, ever since she had unleashed it on instinct upon a Chaos cultist during the raid on a space hulk in the orbit of Gehenna. It had all happened so fast and on mere instinct. Naamah, having only just learned that her dark mistress Mirien had been a Bando Gora Acolyte, had been in deep pain from her fight with the xenomorphs and the Cultist, who had dared defy her. She had felt such anger and ravenous hunger and had just...acted, gourging herself upon the life force of her enemy. The experience had been...delicious and even now, though she had just filled herself with very real, physical flesh, she could feel her hunger rising again.
It was both beautiful and cause for nervousness. Thousands of years ago there had been a Sith Lord called Nihilus, whose hunger was such that he feasted upon the life of entire planets, leaving nothing but barren wastelands that, devoid of all life, became wounds in the Force. He had been capable of magnificient displays of power...and yet had in the end become a slave to it. Naamah cast such thoughts aside, for she was a fervent acolyte of the dark powers. The Sith arrogantly believed that the Force was their tool and that they commanded it. In their short-sightedness they thought they could achieve complete mastery and bend it to their will.
Foolishness. For it was not they who used the Dark Side, but it used them. The principle of all life was that it must end. Progress came only through conflict, for it revealed the true nature of every life form, every nation, be it an Empire or a Republic. Chaos, strife and destruction were the guiding principles of the universe and she was but a vessel of the Dark Side. Perhaps it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but before her eyes she seemed to see a fathomless void, chaos unrestrained. She could not help giggling as the power of the Dark Side coursed through her and suffused her being. Existence was fleeting, but the shadows were eternal and she was a creature of them.
She read on through the tome, making notes in the margins here and there, much like a good schoolgirl. As a matter of fact, once upon a time Naamah had been just the sort of good girl her parents had been proud of, always doing her chores, helping out in the household and with good grades in school. But then...they had cast her out after her powers were revealed, for they feared what she could do. There had been a time when Naamah had hated them, especially after the Inquisition seized her, but now she understood that it had been for her own good. All the pain she had endured since then, even in the dungeons of the Atrisian secret police when Madeline purged her brethren, had shaped her into the dark acolyte she was now.
There were various manifestations of force drain. It could manifest as darkness, as clusters of branching red lightning, orange tendrils leaping from your hand, as red or yellow streamers connecting your heart to theirs. There were some who were able to drain multiple sentients at the same time, though this was limited to the most powerful specialists. Some masters of the technique had done well enough by limiting their use of it to touch alone. Very graphic descriptions were provided where the mage who had penned the tome described how she had utilised it, accompanied by elaborating upon the victims had suffered.
It was enough to make Naamah...feel an intense hunger, but she pressed on. Time seemed to fly as she became oblivious to anything else except the fascinating, beautiful tome, then she was shaken out of her musings when she heard the sound of footsteps.
A Bando Gora Cultist, one of those who had joined her on Gehenna, stepped in. His eyes were ablaze with a blue glint that showed his immersion in the Dark Side and the effect of the alchemised narcotics he had been given during his time with the Cult. "Mistress, we will be slipping out of hyperspace soon. What would you have me to do with the prisoners? May I feast upon one of them?" he asked, his voice raspy yet submissive. He knew better than to disobey or displease her.
Naamah stuffed the tome into her backpack. "Yes, you may have the girl...I'll take the boy. He's cute," she licked her lips at that, her voice like a purr. Oh, yes, she was feeling hungry. Besides, he looked a bit like Cody Weadge, that IIB agent who had, well, had a thing with her Mistress. But he had not honoured her enough or worshipped the ground she walked on. Nor had he come to help Mirien when Madeline sentenced her entire family to death. Or even tried to find her after the purge. Perhaps one day she could make him suffer as well.
