Ask Exposure Therapy

[Crix Aran]

Crix wished there was a version of this meeting that he didn't have to be a part of but there wasn't. Facing off against the troops of the Sith had been a touch exciting underneath all of his desire to help the locals and repel their attacks. It hadn't caused him much in the way of issues but he knew different when it came to Sith - in the moment he had been able to act and it helped that the Sith had either been defeated far away from him or, in the case of the Kel Dor in the room with him, fallen unconscious without a fight.

It was a curious enough event and the Sith not well-known enough butcher of thousands for the man to be imprisoned without a discussion as to what had actually happened on the landing pad of the Ossus Jedi Temple.

So there was no version of him meeting said Sith that didn't involve him actually asking questions as Vinry had to leave the planet on an urgent mission and Alex was probably busy with the Sith Lord who had started the attempted Invasion so that left him. Crix was considered mature and responsible enough to ask a prisoner questions without killing him in a fit of rage over how the Sith had treated his family and friends.

Not that he was bitter about it at all...

The Kel Dor (they didn't have a name really, though some old records said he might be a former Jedi by the name of Bir Vuul) was sat upright in a chair with a medical drip hooked up to his right arm with a saline solution suitable for the species. His lightsaber had been taken, hidden away in another room not too far from this one, his mechanical right arm detached and left on a table set to one side from the two of them. Well-built durasteel manacles kept his legs locked to the legs of the chair at the ankles, the chair itself having been welded to the floor.

The decision had been made to allow the Kel Dor's left arm to be free for the duration of this interaction, though it could be tied behind the chair's back if Crix wanted it to be. Drugs had been added to the drip to begin with to keep the Kel Dor sedated while they moved him but the dose had been decreased enough that he would be coming around soon, though his head might hurt.

Probably hurt quite a bit really.

A sudden shifting in the Force, a familiar smell of sulfur and a wave of dry heat. The Dark Side always reminded him of Sullust and it likely always would but there wasn't anything he could do about that - he just had to be in the moment. The shift meant that his guest was awake.

"How's the head?"

He didn't wait to play the game of "oh is he awake I wonder?'.

"Doc droid says you'll be groggy but no worse than a hangover I'm sure."

@Tulos

 

[Bir Vuul]

Voices. So many voices. Plenty were unrecognizable as they screamed in blood curling throws of panic and terror. An equal amount, nothing more than whispers of encouragement and support. Images flashed across his mind. The burning homestead of the Vandyne Prime Minister, flames illuminating the night sky. His old Master, Kari Windstar, as she instructed the young Kel Dor how to properly hold his training saber. The lifeless face of the fallen Padawan, twisted with hate and darkness by the monster who had created him, his body dead at Bir’s feet. These things and so many more pranced through the man’s mind, fleeing as fast as they had arrived, keeping him entirely unaware of the reality around him.

He offered no resistance as he was placed down in the chair, nor when his prosthetic was carefully removed. His legs remained limp as the restraints were secured around his ankles and his muscles never tightened as the IV was pierced through his leather-like skin and into his vein. The only evidence the naked eye could provide of his well-being was the slow rise and fall of his chest partnered with the mumbling of words followed by a soft and sinister chuckle. With medical equipment, the chapter read differently. With the Force? Well that was a whole other book.

Light and dark continued to clash within his mind and soul. A man set on violence and death wrestled against another devout to serve others before himself. Neither seeming to gain the upper hand over the other for long, this was proving to be one of the most exhausting moments Bir had ever endured. Yet as a voice crept into his ear, one of these personas set it upon himself to respond.

His beady eyes fluttered to life behind his goggles to the sight of the Jedi Knight. The words of Knight Aran were nearly impossible for the Kel Dor to understand through the fog of his induced mental state but his situation soon became entirely clear. As did the throbbing headache that pounded inside his skull.

”Hello,” Bir muttered, his voice still shaky but retaining a certain playful and eager madness. As he spoke, his head would lift and turn to the right to offer Aran a look at Bir profile though his own eyes fell on the empty socket of his shoulder. His attention would shift back to the Jedi, his face contorting into a maniacal grin behind his mask and goggles. ”I seem to have misplaced my arm, I certainly have... You wouldn’t happen to be a kind and generous young man, perhaps? Perhaps? Perhaps you could find it for me, hmm?” Through the drugs and the pain, Bir’s voice continued to remain weak; a fraction of his typical enthusiastic self. Oh how he needed an aspirin...

@Nefieslab​

 

[Crix Aran]

Yep, definitely awake.

Crix didn't want to touch the mind of the Sith so he didn't. It might become part of the conversation they would share at some point in the future but, for now, he was going to stay far from it. Not only did the Dark Side make him want to vomit but he was beginning to think that the Sith wasn't all there and it would be reckless to try and connect to a mind that didn't even know what it was even trying to do itself.

Not impossible but harder for sure.

"Good evening." he revealed the wrong time of day casually, "Was beginning to think you'd never wake up. We weren't entirely sure what knocked you out so it was hard to figure out how to help treat you."

They had done their best to make him comfortable and keep him sedated enough to be able to be moved without issue. That they had done so at all was probably more than half of what this man deserved but, well, therein lay the rub. Because from what Jedi far more experienced than he could tell there was something of a split within the Kel Dor, a desire to do good at war with an insatiable madness.

"You asking me to lend you a hand?"

... bad joke but what his therapist would call avoiding his issues and he was, right now, fine with that.

"Afraid I'm going to have to decline until we've gotten to know each other better. My name's Crix Aran - what's yours?"

@Tulos

 

[Bir Vuul]

Just as Bir began to feel as though he was regaining his composure, another wave of the injection would strengthen the vertigo he felt but only just enough for him to not be able to focus on any one thing too strongly. Certainly a hindrance or he would likely have begun to contemplate a way of breaking free from his chains and escaping this… Where was he again? Squinting his eyes as though it would somehow allow him a clearer train of thought, the Kel Dor tried to recall what had transpired that led him here. The last thing he could remember clearly was kneeling inside his chamber on board a Star Destroyer, adorning the walls with symbols in the blood of a freshly killed gizka while munching on a bowl of berries… then waking up… here.

Crix’s terrible joke may have warranted a groan from many but as Bir managed to relatively return to the here and now, he would offer a heartful chuckle while patting the table with his hand. It wasn’t hard to earn a laugh from the mad Sith of course but he couldn’t deny enjoying the play on his words.

”A pleasure, Crix Aran! I am Bir! Bir Vuul I am! Yes! Yes! Maybe you’ve heard of me, hmm?” The Kel Dor stared at his captor, tilting his head slightly to the right as he awaited his response. Over the years, he had earned himself a certain degree of fame though not all of it was something to be proud of. Nevertheless, his name was known amongst many in the galaxy. Whether it was for his role in planetary invasions, his prowess against some of the fiercest beasts the galaxy had to offer, or his abysmal performance in the Huttball Season Opener, he was hardly a nobody any longer. ”I do hope we can get on being friends! You seem of a good sort!” Bir would elate before being sent into another spiral from the IV drip.

”You are such an idiot…”

The voice echoed through the back of Bir’s mind as he struggled to keep the room from spinning, provoking an irate response on the surface.

”Be quiet!” Bir growled loudly, slamming his fist against the table seemingly unprovoked.

@Nefieslab​

 

[Crix Aran]

Great.

His first chance to actually speak to a Sith who wasn’t trying to kill him and he was so broken he could barely hold a conversation with himself, let alone with Crix. However, it both hurt and helped his feelings about Sith to be spending this time with the Kel Dor. Although a madman was nothing to be reassured by, he was able to feel how the Force felt around him and it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as Sullust.

It still brought up bad memories but nothing like the suffocating pressure of that planet. Felt somewhat akin to an echo of a familiar sound that had once threatened to deafen him or, to use a less ‘Jedi Master’ analogy, like smelling a type of alcohol that had almost killed him in the past.

“I’ve heard rumblings about you Bir, yeah.”

He’d heard some talk about him, even if he hadn’t quite… wait… he tilted his head to one side slightly as, just after Bir asked if they could be friends he thought he heard something. Frowning ever so slightly, he blinked when Bir slammed his remaining hand against the desk.

Did he imagine the whisper he thought he could feel through the Force?

Reaching out, he placed a his right hand atop Bir’s head and reached out with the Force, probing at the Sith’s mind. As he did so he spoke up.

“Who else is here, Bir?” he asked, his voice taking on a stronger note, “You giving some Sith Master a piggyback in your mind or something?”

@Tulos

 

[Bir Vuul]

The Kel Dor struggled against the shackles that held his ankles in place, the voice of the enslaved Padawan ringing across his mind unimpeded. For so long, he had managed to keep this version of himself silent and tucked away. He had managed to maintain control over their shared body for years with not so much as a whisper of defiance against his actions. It was all falling apart. Wherever they were, something had inspired the Jedi aspect of his psyche and given him a renewed strength. No longer was the Sith madman in control and it seemed that the longer he remained here, his grip only continued to loosen.

This was only further amplified with Crix’ intervention. As the Zabrak placed his hand atop of Bir’s head, reaching deeper and deeper into his mind, the Kel Dor would find himself unable to shut him out. He had the training required to do so but with the renewed strength of his Padawan counterpart partnered with that of the Jedi Knight before him, Bir found himself woefully outmatched.

”Get…. out….” Bir hissed as the memories of Ryloth came flooding back, almost as though the Padawan was trying to signal to Crix on what had resulted in his capture. Bir could feel the tug of pain within as the image of his old Jedi Master was cut down before him once again aboard the Sith dreadnought. The burning sensation of his arm being sliced off by the edge of an ancient Sith sword began to emanate from the place where his right arm once existed.

Then came Korriban. His year-long tenure in the prisons below the world’s dusty surface. The torture he faced on a near daily basis. The day he received the scar across his pectoral and the burns that spread across his back. The day his mind split in two. And with the memories, the pain too was re-lived. It was hell.

In a fit of frustration, Bir finally wrestled control from both his Padawan counter-part as well as his interrogator as he brought his left arm across his torso and lifted upward in an attempt to push Crix’ hand away from him. His breathing was heavy as he leaned against the table, weak from both the medications as well as the mental strain of Crix’ mind probe.

”No Sith Master here, no, no, no,” Bir said with exasperation between breaths. ”You Jedi abandoned your own and allowed the Sith to create me,” he continued, chuckling menacingly though still clearly exhausted from all that had transpired as he laid his head on the table’s surface whilst staring into Crix’ eyes. ”And now your brother lay trapped in the back of his own head,” There Bir would lay as he recuperated, his laughter never ceasing.

@Nefieslab​

 

[Crix Aran]

He could see the memories, feel them moving, as he reached into Bir's mind and he knew that there was still a part of Bir that was the same Jedi Padawan he had always been before the Sith managed to get their claws into his mind. When he had seen it all, when Bir struggled to remove him, Crix released the mind of the Sith and took a step back as he thought about it. What it meant and what it meant he could actually do.

If he could actually help.

It had been before Crix was even a Padawan himself but he could still feel a sense of responsibility. Not for Bir's initial capture so much as what he could do now that he had the Kel Dor sat in front of him.

"No. No Sith Master." he agreed sadly, "Just a man hurting and hiding."

Crix took another step back to lean against the wall as he regarded Bir with his arms crossed.

"I imagine it's easier to fall into madness than it is to resist all that they have done to you. To escape it all by retreating back." he admitted quietly, "But this isn't how it has to be, Bir. Forgive the cliche but I've literally sensed the good in you and I know that you don't want to keep doing this, to keep having to hide behind a facade of madness or enforced indifference."

He tilted his head to one side slightly.

"What was done to you was monstrous, Bir, but I know you have the fight inside of you. I know and, more importantly, you know too that we get to decide if we let our circumstance dictate to us who we are. Who will be." he reasoned, "Tell me... do you think it's too late for you to make those steps back?"

@Tulos

 

[Bir Vuul]

Never lifting the side of his face from the steel table, the surface no longer cold to the touch as it was warmed by the pressing of his skin, Bir continued to chuckle as Crix spoke. If the Padawan within was given the opportunity to speak, he would undoubtedly beseech him for help. He would beg for the Jedi across from them to brandish his weapon and simply strike them both down here and now, bringing an end to this torment that he was forcefully subjected to. Alas, both versions of Bir knew that this was not the Jedi way and that the likelihood of execution was small, a pipe dream in even the greatest of circumstances.

Instead, Crix offered a different outlook. That who he was all came down to a choice. That he could choose to be stronger than the demon that wrestled for dominance in his mind… but was it really that simple? Had he just been beaten down and tormented for so long that his drive to persevere under such sinister conditions had diminished to the point that he had simply forfeited control? The kernel of darkness had been planted in his mind so long ago, germinated and taken root within every fiber of his being… but could it be burned away? Or was this truly the only reality he would ever know?

Slowly, Bir raised his head from the table and looked at the Jedi with a degree of somberness that he had not expressed in years as his chuckling subsided. His shoulders, usually tense from laughter and a maniacal readiness for anything, hung gently at his sides as though he could no longer support them. The cheeks of his face that typically displayed the grin of a madman remained sullen and soft. What was once a lunatic chained to a chair now appeared to be a frightened young man, alone and afraid of the monster within himself.

Extending his arm with an open palm, Bir looked to Crix with pleading eyes as he laid the back of his hand on the table as though he did not have the strength to keep it suspended on his own.

@Nefieslab​

 

[Crix Aran]

Crix knew precious little about the Sith that Bir masked himself as and he knew even less about the Padawan that he had once been. There was so little in the way of a personal connection between the two of them but that was why it meant so much that Crix was doing this. He wasn’t some old friend of his trying to reach him, he was a stranger.

Someone who had only ever met him once before, on a battlefield.

Reaching out with his own hand, Crix took Bir’s offered hand in his own, clasping his hand to the warrior’s own. Using the Force, Crix removed the drip from Bir’s arm and the drugs that had been keeping him mellower, unfocused, would begin to clear. The Force would begin to open itself up to Bir again as Crix moved to crouch slightly to be level with the seated Bir.

He squeezed Bir’s hand in his own.

“Look at me.” He demanded as he watched Bir’s eyes lose whatever glossiness the drugs had encouraged in them, “Focus on me.”

Crix met the other warrior’s eyes in an unwavering display of conviction.

“Every sentient being in this Galaxy can make choices; can change who they are. We don’t walk the path we are on because someone hammers us and beats us until we do; we walk it because we want to.” He reasoned, not blinking, “I want to believe that you don’t want to do this, to be this person you currently are. You need to think about it, to really have a chance to make the choice that was taken from you.”

Letting out a short breath, Crix stood up properly and waved his hand again, using the Force to unlock the restraints on the Sith. He didn’t let go of Bir’s hand and he didn’t take his eyes off of his.

“We’re going to the hanger, Bir. I’m going to give you your arm back. A ship with no weapons, with your lightsaber on board. And… the choice.”

@Tulos