New Friends, Old Places

[The Doctor]

The Doctor was a little miffed when he didn't reply, but it made sense, a name meant a window to his friends and family (assuming he had any). She could tell right off the bat though that he was a man of contradictions: he was a jedi and yet, he was a torturer, a man of tempered emotion and yet, here he was mouthing off. He didn't say his name, instead he just flicked his wrist and suddenly, The Doctor felt her wrists and ankles clamp together, the Force forcing her to her feet. She wasn't an idiot, she took notice of her this particular position, from how she was postured, to how her legs were slightly spread and her chest was jutting out slightly, she was feeling quite exposed.

The Jedi took full advantage of this precarious position, his touch running softly across her uniform. Despite the layers, she could still feel his warm touch against her cold skin, each movement sending sparks through her torso as it ran across her midsection. She was quite impressed by his technique, if not his cliché words. "Jeez...and I thought Wyck's training holocrons were cliché speak, we have a new champi-" She was abruptly cut off as her arms yanked themselves up, taking her body with them. The sudden weight shift and extreme twist and pressure forced a rather haggard yelp from her mouth, which rather quickly devolved into a little maniacal giggle. "Get me riled up then toss me from one extreme to another!!! Very niiiii-UAAAGH!!!" She growled, her grin wider than ever. Despite the clear pain etched on her face, she forced her eyes to snap open again, and she locked them with Cregan. "Not bad so far, but if you want what's in my head, you'll need to step things up a notch buddy, I'm sure you can think of something" She hissed.

"Show me more..."

@Nefieslab @Hugh Capet @Loco @Valen Pelora @Faster Than Light

 

[Anæus Pellaxus Vargam]

Well, that was certainly terrifying. Though his mentor had prepared him for such moments as these, Anæus still found the Mistress’s reading of his thoughts to be unexpected. Yet, whatever training he’d received would prove useless in his current environment, given the dampeners that specifically targeted the Force powers of those imprisoned. Whilst on the subject, the Exile briefly wondered how such a device could single-out specific Force-sensitives and not simply just prevent any and all Force users from utilizing their abilities. He guessed that the dampeners couldn’t manifest as a forcefield; though, perhaps they did, and through some manner of science he couldn’t hope to understand they would only suppress himself and The Doctor. Nevertheless, the matter was put to rest as the Bortrasan turned his attention to the Mistress, whose countenance was one of smug satisfaction, likely at the quip at his personal expense. Anæus’s immediate reaction was to laugh lightly, muttering, “Of all the things,” as his thoughts were the first things Dan’ela had bothered to overhear. The Witch. “I would love to spend the remainder of my day discussing differing honorifics, Dan’ela, but I have other business to attend to,” he said, annoyed by the Jedi's childish statement.

With that, the young man’s gaze turned to the chipper Jedi, who was just about to begin torturing The Doctor. Though he couldn’t hear all of what was said, it was obvious by the other’s body language and facial expressions that the torturer was enjoying himself. Anæus felt disgusted at such behavior, yet also a sense of satisfaction in knowing that beneath the veneer of morality and virtuosity of the Order was a dark underbelly. The very existence of these men, however, confused the Bortrasan, to a degree. Why did the Jedi need to engage in torture at all? Why did it need to have such repugnant men be a part of it? Of course, the Exile was fully aware of the hypocrisy of his characterization, as he himself was not a good man; far from it, in fact. Still, there was something about taking joy in the injury of one’s enemies that made Anæus uncomfortable. “Is he effective at what he does, Dan’ela? If he is, I wonder how effective?” he thought, hoping that the Jedi would be more inclined to hear what he was thinking rather than saying, given how the latter was often ignored.

Regardless of whether she chose to hear him or not, the Exile returned to the matter at hand and gazed upon the weaker Jedi, who, with a sweep of his hand, caused Anæus to be forcibly repositioned from sitting to floating in a supine manner, with his face pointed up. This alone was unwelcome enough, but the Force-based smothering was absolutely unnecessary, as the information he had wasn’t worth such excessive measures. After he regained the ability to breathe, the Bortrasan sighed indignantly, at first, before remarking on one of the Jedi’s previous comments concerning how he was to give Dan’ela information she “wanted” to know but necessarily wouldn’t. “What she wants to know and what she will know are two completely different things, although she is more than aware of that, I’m certain. She knows exactly what I’ve said, and it is as true a series of statements as I’ve ever uttered to a Jedi. Still, for the sake of my lungs, I shall repeat myself. I last heard that this ‘Alais’ was meaning to attack the station directly above Telos; this was right before I entered the battle raging on the planet. ‘Tis to my understanding that she succeeded, in that regard. What became of her after the fact, I am uncertain, as I was soon knocked unconscious and transported to Jedha, as all here are well aware. The base on Prakith is not something I have never had any cause at all to visit, though I know of its existence.” A moment of silence followed before Anæus continued, hoping this time to get to the heart of the matter. “I’m certain you desired information regarding troop numbers, movements, battle plans, temple schematics, and other such things; all so as to seek vengeance not against the Exiles that have done you harm but against the one woman that has proven so difficult to find. I'm sorry to disappoint, Dan'ela.”

@Valen Pelora
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@TheBrokenMadMan

 

[Evalyn Dan’ela]

Evalyn was equally grossed out and bored all at the same time. Whatever tactic Cregan thought was a good idea made her gag. The last thing she ever wanted in her mind was images of Cregan and that Exile. She ignored his jab about brooding Jedi. An old insult based on stupid rumors. He couldn’t possibly know the truth. Evalyn found it difficult to believe Cregan could possibly get any information from the Exile with his disgusting flirting. Bile rose in her throat at the woman’s response. Great. She wanted answers and instead was getting some strange sex show. Evalyn forced herself to refocus on the less vomit inducing interrogation.

That was the boring one. The Exile just spewed more worthless pretentious drivel. She appreciated Spencer’s efforts, but this was going nowhere fast. It appeared neither Exile possessed the information she wanted. Evalyn had seen the reports from Telos. Jedi killed without a hint of mercy. She wished she had done more. She had considered capturing these two a small victory. She realized now how stupid that was. This was nothing but a distraction, another setback. Evalyn sighed. Her eyes flicked to Spender then back to the Exile giving his long silique. She no longer cared what he had to say. She had made up her mind.

Evalyn spoke softly to both Spencer and Cregan. “Finish this.” She reached out in the Force, searching for the security camera. They would go fuzzy. She would hold the interference for the time being. She respected Fen a great deal, but they did not always see eye to eye. Evalyn doubted he would approve of her decisions. Well, as much as she did respect Fen, these were her choices to make now. She was a Master of the Order. She would do what was best for the Jedi, no matter the personal cost. @Nefieslab @Faster Than Light @Hugh Capet @TheBrokenMadMan

 

[Darth Evandrus]

Was it wrong of him to take a certain amount of joy in knowing that he was driving Evalyn to disgust with his technique so far? It probably was but he couldn't bring himself to care all that much. It amused him to no end that he was able to cause a Jedi Master of her calibre such discomfort and yet he hadn't really done anything yet. He had picked a rather sexualised torture but that had more to do with the level of sweetness that you could use to contrast the pain that they would be feeling.

Evalyn was probably right to be disgusted because it did honestly look like this Doctor was actually beginning to enjoy aspects of what he was doing to her.

"Show them the carrot before you show them the stick - you understand!" he agreed, his face breaking open into a wide grin that, as before, showed far too much teeth to be considering entirely friendly but it was obvious to anyone that there was true enthusiasm behind the expression, "I'm not sure if that makes this easier or harder... but it does make it more fun now doesn't it?"

Glancing at Evalyn, he raised an eyebrow at her words and what she was implying. Was she...? She was, wasn't she? His grin slowly began to fall a little bit.

"Oh my dear..." he reached up idly and cupped the Doctor's cheek, his thumb stroking over her skin almost lovingly, "It appears that Evalyn is growing impatient. She has no respect for our art."

He smiled up at her even as he began to press down on the middle of her back with the Force, stretching her arms further back and putting more and more pressure on her shoulder joints. All the while he smiled at her and stroked her cheek with the tenderness of a lover even as she reached the point of extension where her arms were about to pop out of their sockets. But he held her just there, just before they could dislocate, because if they did the pain would spike before dipping right down. But keeping her on the edge like this? It was something of an art-form to keep her right on the edge.

But he had practice.

"My name, by the way, is Cregan." he told her quietly as he walked closer until his face was only a few inches away from her own, "And you must know how this is going to go. Give me something I can give to Evalyn... or else I'm going to work this kind of magic over each of your limbs - then each of your joints. And when you're a broken, useless, shell of a being unable to even move...? Do you really think anyone will bother to save you? Are you so certain that your Exile friends won't just take one look into your cell, see you as you are, and not just leave?"

The pressure on her back didn't relent, keeping her on the edge of the spike in pain but holding her just right to avoid dislocating her arms and ruining the technique. He clicked his fingers, as if just thinking of something,

"I've got it!" he turned to look at Evalyn through the bars of the cell, "Evalyn... think you could give me a hand here?"

Dropping the Doctor to the ground, and not bothering to soften her landing at all, Cregan rolled her over onto her back with his foot before pinning her to the floor, spread eagle, with the Force. He idly spun her around on the floor a little as he waited for Evalyn to enter the cell. Stopping only when she was beside him, he didn't take his eyes off the Doctor as he asked,

"I might need your guiding hand here Evalyn - I have the power but I'll need your help to make sure I get it right. Call it practice for any other Exiles we capture." he told her honestly, no trace of a smile on his face now, just a blankness that went straight into his signature in the Force as well, "She likes silence so much... let's deafen her. She likes to talk... let's mute her. She likes being in control so much... so let's take that control from her. If she keeps her silence..."

He narrowed his eyes slightly,

"Let's strip the Force from her."

@Faster Than Light @Hugh Capet @TheBrokenMadMan @Valen Pelora

 

[Spencer Ward]

⁝⁝ Holy Kriff, this guy really is a total stiff. ⁝⁝ Spencer silently lamented to himself while the prisoner before Spencer hadn't divulged anything useful at all. Spencer wishes that he was interrogating the Doctor like he originally wanted, because it sounds like those two are having a real blast. Oh well. Can't be helped he supposes, Cregan will eventually crack her for sure. This guy is really good, Spencer thought. Good in that having oxygen flow stopped for a few good hot seconds and still he managed to ramble. Spencer glanced at Evalyn just to make sure that she is content with what he is doing as he doesn't want to be thrown into a wall or anything by her if she can help it. Apparently going by rumours that what she does best. Anyway, Spencer would then look upon the Exile once more. Pitiful.

Spencer would reply to the prisoner. "Oh, I'm sorry, Wrong answer. Please try again next time." he stated before gathering the force to left hand once again. Applying his force smothering on Anæus Vargam once more, intensified pressure and holding it for a longer, for a good 20 seconds, being diligent enough not to make him pass out and would stop his force usage if there was any danger of that happening. Spencer could have gone longer, but he heard Master Evalyn behind him kindly request that they finish this. Spencer then stopped what he was doing and would give the Exile time to catch his breath, while he did that, Spencer would then go out of the cell for a quick minute to retrieve the battery that he brought into the prison as well as the jumper cables inside the suit case he brought, but didn't bring it with him in the cell. He would set the battery down on the cell's stone floors. He would hook up the jumper cables to the battery. And then he would test them out, making sure they work, and they do, making sparks with them. Since Evalyn is demanding that this be finished, he is forced to pull out the big guns. This will either make Anæus want to spill the proverbial beans, or he will end up in very rough shape. Either one is a favor to the galaxy really. Anæus had plenty of chances to talk and his own actions have led him on the path he is on. Even if he didn't really know anything, he is still an Exile, Jedi were murdered at Telos, and Anæus doesn't deserve to be treated as a human being, just for being an Exile really.

Now that Spencer is for sure that the jumper cables work, he would then clamp them both on Anæus's chest, which would result in the Exile being electrocuted. But Spencer was hearing in the neighboring cell something that was catching his attention. The younger Jedi Shadow wasn't paying that much mind as to what was going on in the Doctor's cell, but he was requesting Master Evalyn for something. Spencer would keep the jumpers clamped on the Exile for a good 5 seconds until he heard those words. Cregan announced his attention to strip the force from the Doctor.. Spencer stopped what he was doing to the hapless Exile with a surprised expression on his face with his head turned into the direction of the other cell. "Well, I'll be..." Spencer would then his head back to the Exile. "Well. Did you hear that? It looks your friend might be having the Force stripped from them. And they are going to be coming for you next." Spencer would inform the Exile, just in case he didn't hear it. He couldn't have imagined Cregan would go for that. "So, last chance Anæus. It's either now or never." Some might say that being stripped of the force is a fate worse than death. Jedi and Exiles alike are both dependent on the force. To have it taken away... If that is what has to be done so be it. At worse, they will be rendered nothing more than powerless wrecks and will live to suffer with the powers they've grown dependent on forcefully taken away.

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[The Doctor]

The words no force user ever wanted to hear, the nightmare scenario, the worst fate possible, the ultimate punishment.

Let's strip the Force from her...

The mere words alone were enough to make The Doctor's blood run cold, every hair standing on end as they registered in her mind, sending sparks all the way down her body, down her spine, enflaming the excruciating pain in her back, all the way into her toes. Any thoughts or feelings that had surged through her mind were washed away by the utter fear that began to slowly crawl into her mind, burying it's heels deep into her subconscious. At first, she tried to shrug it off, she started to chuckle absent mindedly, doing her Doctor mannerisms and saying what she would. "I highly doubt that even y...you...."

She trailed off as her eyes locked with Cregan's, her brown irises gazing deeply into his own. She was utterly perplexed at what she saw behind them, something she never expected to see, and yet, something she wasn't surprised to see.

Malice.

There was a malice to his words, something deep and personal that gave him relished in the thought of cutting away a piece of her soul, something that demanded it, a zealous fortitude that cried for the blood of infidels...or was it something more? There was something deeper, something infinitely more personal, but she couldn't hope to touch it...not without the force. She didn't need the force to hear the slight crackling of the camera though, she didn't need it to realize her fate was sealed regardless of what she said. "...no...you would do it wouldn't you Cregan?" She asked, her face having sunken into pure horror at the thought. The realization of her imminent future only served to further twist that into despair, and a sliver of anger weaved through it. "No...not would, you will do it...regardless of what we say, you're just gonna do it anyway."

As the truth of this interrogation began to hit her, The Doctor began to buckle, the mask cracked and showed the scared girl beneath. She didn't even look angry anymore, just...resigned. "Of course you are...what's one more betrayal? I suppose this is the Jedi now: torture and witch hunts and handing out sentences worse than death just because you're annoyed...it's a little hypocritical, don't you think? The ideal jedi was kind and virtuous, they always talked first and fought last, they were negotiators and peaceful scholars before warriors...what did we do to you?"

"You're nothing like the jedi I remember anymore, you slaughter and kill any and all if you think it'll get you closer to wiping out the supposed impurity of the dark side, your zealotry knowing no bounds, no discrimination. You would gladly cut down your own just for leaving the order, even if they just wanted to live away from the war, all under the suspicion that they would turn to the dark side because they were an exile now, all under the rationalization that they're doing it for the greater good! At least I admit I'm evil...heh, and you know the funny thing? That's probably the best of the jedi nowadays."

Now her growing distress was starting to show, as tears began to stream from her eyes, not manipulative in any way, just tears of despair, and utter fear, as she began to speak again through slowly growing quivering sobs, defiant to the last in any persona, even if she sounded dead inside as she said things. "You know what? Just do it, I don't have have the intel you want, you know as much as me, Prakith Temple in the Mountains, I don't know it's defenses or inhabitants, so torture me all you kriffing like! I won't lie, I won't give a false confession and I won't just feed you what you want to hear just to justify your torture...you took my love away from me, now you want the Force...so go on..."

Through all this, Aleera just stared up at Cregan, her mask crumbling faster than any kind of defense she could muster to retain it.

"just do it..."

 

[Anæus Pellaxus Vargam]

Having expounded upon his knowledge of Alais and Prakith for the second time that day, Anæus fell silent and waited for the weak Jedi’s response. His gaze, however, shifted in the direction of an audible cracking noise and the clatter of debris to the ground. For a moment, the Exile was uncertain of what could have been broken, but that moment immediately died and from it was born the realization that both he and The Doctor were now totally at the mercy of the Mistress and her accomplices, unless there happened to be a guard hidden away in a corner. Of course, even if there was, he wouldn’t dare to interfere with the Great Mistress’s work. To do so would warner potential banishment. The gleeful torturing of prisoners, though, was completely innocuous in nature. One wondered who could’ve been watching on the other side. Regular security, most likely. With that, though, the young man pondered over how often Dan’ela had done this, how often she’d broken cameras to hide her despicable actions from the prying eyes of men who actually knew their place and the responsibilities it carried. Then again, perhaps it’d happened so often as to not be a surprise, or those watching the cells simply didn’t care about two Exile prisoners. Given the terrible blows the Jedi have had to suffer, of late, it certainly seemed probable.

Nevertheless, Anæus’s mind turned from the gross negligence of the guards and the overt despotism of the Mistress to instead focus on the weak Jedi, who blatantly refused to heed what he said as the truth, which it indeed was. His anger instantly turned to shock and fear, however, as his nose and mouth were once again clamped shut with the Force. Unfortunately for the poor man, he exhaled prior to this man-handling, as his anger was such that he huffed. From the first second onward he was in a state of discomfort, then distress, then agony as the seconds ticked by and his lungs desperately yearned to be filled with fresh oxygen. The Exile’s pulse grew more pronounced as his heart struggled to pump what blood it could through his body, and his cheeks became darker as his blood cells and vessels turned richer and richer shades of red and possibly purple. As the last second ticked by, and the Bortrasan was allowed to breathe again, he erupted into a coughing fit that lasted nearly twice as long as his asphyxiation. In addition, his head throbbed painfully as oxygenated blood flowed through his body, thus eliciting a groan of pain. A minute or so after his initial torture, Anæus regained his composure and looked upon the weak Jedi with confusion and sheer loathing. “Why? Why do these insane bastards not understand the truth when it’s right in front of them? Why are they so dull as to not see it right in front of their damned faces?” he thought, all sense of decorum having left by now. Of course, the Exile already knew why; ‘twas to seek false information, all so as to give the Mistress what she so yearned for.

The thought crossed Anæus’s mind to give his torturer false information, but Dan’ela would know it to be false, no doubt, resulting in his further torture and possible death. It was a losing battle to keep on like this, even if he continued to tell the truth. So, rather than spout off what he knew for the third time, the Bortrasan chose to listen to what the psychopathic Jedi was saying near-by. Admittedly, little could be heard as he was busy whispering to The Doctor in a demoralizing tone, trying to make her lose whatever hope she had, if any at all. Anæus, well he had some small amount of it upon realizing where he was, but as the days dragged on into weeks what little hope he had died away as he thought of what his father told him regarding the Jedi and their hypocritically evil ways. After all, they were willing to expel an innocent man such as his grand-father, and then had the temerity to murder him not in a duel between equals but in a silent, craven way. Stabbed in the back. No struggle. No exclamation of surprise. Only the cold silence of a long-dead man caught unawares. If the Jedi could do such a thing, then there was no hope of being freed.

This rumination on lessons past was soon ended, however, when the weak Jedi exited the cell and returned with the battery seen beforehand. Try as he might to prepare himself for the shock that was bound to course its way through, Anæus was still greatly shocked (no pun intended) to feel the electricity as it shot its way through his chest and out of his extremities. He cried out due to the suddenness and the severity of the shock, and this screaming lasted for the full five seconds before his torture stopped, for some reason. Not that he was complaining; not that he could complain, what with his breathing having become quite labored by then. His muscles still spasmed and jerked, and for several seconds afterward, all the Bortrasan could do was think of the pain and how close he might have come to death. He regained his composure soon enough to hear the weak Jedi talk of something, something about stripping The Doctor of her Force-sensitivity. Chief among the questions he asked himself was what became of a man when he was deprived of the Force. Was he rendered dumb, unable to speak or even think properly? Was he reduced to a vegetative state and thus doomed to die from being unable to care for himself? After all, the idea of the Jedi caring for those they destroy mentally was completely impossible, especially with men such as the chipper Jedi being a part of the Order. Just how did he join, anyway? Was he always this maniacal, or did it develop at a later date? If it did, why was he allowed to remain, despite clearly being a danger to, at the very least, the prisoners? What was he thinking, prisoners were obviously worth less than nothing, Exile prisoners even more so, and thus siccing a psychopathic torturer on them was completely warranted. Nevertheless, how was it that the saintly Jedi Order was able to tolerate this affront to their principles, if they had any left?

His queries would have to wait, however, as The Doctor, likely realizing the gravity of the situation, began lamenting her current state and that of the Jedi. Though not all could be heard, there was enough said to understand the basics. She talked of the hypocrisy of the Order and its callousness, of its love for torture and death, of its manic desire to obliterate the Dark Side of the Force, of its inability to recognize the evil present in all facets, right to the very top. While Anæus was unaware of most of the particulars of the Jedi and their ways, he knew full-well that they were an Order corrupted from its days of supposed goodness and virtue, now turned black and unfeeling. His father was more than right, it seemed, in what he said so long ago now. He was a fool to ever engage such degenerates in conversation. Still, he couldn’t abandon his principles and stoop to the Jedi’s level of savagery. No, he had to be the bigger man; to show them, show all of them that at least one Exile was willing to give them a fighting chance, even if they weren’t so willing.

To illustrate his resolve, Anæus decided that instead of expressing any kind of emotion, whether it be hatred, satisfaction, contentedness, anger, frustration, or confusion, he would remain placid, calm, stoic. He vowed then and there to never give a Jedi the satisfaction of seeing him grimace in pain or scrunch his countenance in infuriation again, as that’s all they’d ever want to see. Never again would he shed a tear at being burnt, stabbed, shocked, or cut. Never again would he let a scream, groan, or moan escape his lips, as the actions of such reprobates did not deserve any reaction whatever. Hopefully, then he could pierce through their smug assuredness and make them just like everyone else.

@Valen Pelora
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@Faster Than Light
@TheBrokenMadMan
@Loco

 

[Evalyn Dan’ela]

Evalyn had stopped paying attention to the scene unfolding in front of her. This was not who she was. Her battles were waged outside these walls. She understood this was necessary, just as she understood the Shadows were necessary. They thrived in this environment. Cregan and Spencer could walk a line she could simply never trod. The Shadows managed to hover above the Darkness for the good of the Order. It was incredibly dangerous and so many failed. Unfortunately, they were needed. This was a war. The Exiles were evil. War required sacrifices of all of them. Evalyn would not judge Spencer or Cregan. For once.

She simply could not do what they did. A part of her yearned for Kal. He was much better at this than she was. Skills he now employed for the other side. She was becoming increasingly convinced the Exiles knew nothing. They were irritating but little more. Evalyn was finally pulled from her inner monologue by Cregan. She shook her head. Oh, now that was an idea. The Order had tried to strip Alais. Evalyn had a sinking feeling her former student might one day try to do the same. She raised her eyes to look at Cregan. She nodded. “Yes. We have reached the end of this road. She clearly doesn’t know a damn thing or is bluffing beyond our skill to break.” Evalyn plunged even deeper into the Force. She bristled with the energy of the Light. “The galaxy will be safer if she is cut off from the Force.” She turned to the prickly one who insisted on calling her Mistress. “Last chance.” Evalyn reached for Cregan in the Force. She joined their strength together. “Focus.” She reached for the woman in the Force.

She felt the Force coursing through the Exile. It was a familiar feeling. A feeling that flowed through her body as well. Yes, she knew exactly how this felt. The Force was a river that flowed through all life. The two of them could wall that river off so that the Exile would feel nothing. Combined with Cregan’s strength she went to work. Brick by brick Evalyn built the wall. She could feel the Force slowly diminishing in the Exile. She could feel herself tiring but pushed on until the damn was complete. The Force was cut from the Exile. There was nothing for her to grab. Evalyn released the Force. Sweat covered her body. Kriff, that had been exhausting. Her legs felt weak. Evalyn looked at the man again. “No more snippy comments. Just the truth. Everything about your life as an Exile.” She would have some answers and then a nap. She was exhausted. @Nefieslab @Faster Than Light @TheBrokenMadMan @Hugh Capet @Loco

 

[Darth Evandrus]

The prisoner, the Doctor, tried to laugh off the suggestion he had made to Evalyn and he could see why she would want to try and do it - who would want to have the Force stripped of them after all? Far better to have it all be some scare tactic than for it to be a reality right? Well he was tempted to have a little bit of fun and mess with her about it but he didn't even need to because she seemed to have realised that they were serious in this rather quickly.

She'd seen something in his eyes.

"Of course I would do it." he agreed with her easily, drawing himself to his full height and staring down at her with a mixture of pity and disgust in mind, "Why wouldn't I? The Force is a gift and it is best suited to serving the Light - to the aid of the Greatest Good for the Greatest Number. You have fallen very far short of that with your use of the Force, lovely Doctor. And when a child has thrown her toys away in her petulance then she is punished with the removal of said toy - to do otherwise is to simply encourage further poor behaviour and we cannot have that."

He glanced at her even as he turned to Evalyn,

"You Exiles have pushed us into a corner. Hounded us. Bled us. Torn at us." he tilted his head to the side slightly, "And yet you cry 'foul' when we lash out with the steel gauntlet rather than the velvet glove? You don't poke a Drexl in the eye and complain when it bites you. You either learn your lesson through pain and never do it again... or you die."

Cregan nodded to Evalyn - as much as it pained him to admit it, this was very much the end of the road here. They had tried being nice, they had tried being nasty and now all that was left was to be final about the whole thing. To end it before it became torture for torture's own sake, which was something even Cregan abhorred. Opening himself up to Evalyn in the Force, Cregan put himself and his energies at her direction.

Blocking the Force from connecting with The Doctor was an odd experience for Cregan. As he had opened himself up to Evalyn, he followed her every 'move' in the Force and supplied his own power and concentration to her's so that everything she did was strengthened, reinforced and made permanent within The Doctor and within the Force itself. With the Force cut from the Exile in question, Cregan closed his eyes tiredly for a moment.

Evalyn was tired and he was as well - thankfully Cregan wasn't as bad since Evalyn had done most of the 'heavy lifting' when it came to the severing of the Force from The Doctor and he had merely supported her. But still, he didn't doubt he'd be sleeping for a good ten hours as soon as possible after this.

He didn't look at The Doctor as he left her cell, locking the door behind him as he and Evalyn moved to address the male Exile through his cell door. Leaning against the door, Cregan stared in at the man for a moment before glancing at Spencer, who was also in the cell,

"You've done good work here Spencer." he congratulated the young man before entering the cell himself, very visibly taking his lightsaber in hand but making no move to ignite it as he looked at the Exile, "Answer the woman please my good man."

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[Spencer Ward]

As the exile before him stood his ground, the younger Jedi Shadow had nothing more to say to him, and then what was happening in the neighboring cell caught his attention, he could feel great power in the Force in the air. The Light overtaking the dark. It looks like Master Evalyn and Cregan have succeeded in stripping the Force from the Doctor. Even though Spencer Ward couldn't imagine having the Force stripped from him, he can't say he felt sorry for her. She chose the path she has taken. The Doctor walked the path of darkness and he has led her here at this moment. If you live by the sword you die by the sword. This just reaffirms Spencer's vow to never walk the path of Darkness. Even if Spencer has to stare into the abyss, he will never forsake the Light's warm embrace.

As suddenly as the Doctor's presence in the force vanished into nothingless, he could feel the light collectively wavering in the other two. The technique they used must have been exhausting to use. They won't be able to do it on the remaining Exile. As Cregan came into the cell the younger Jedi Shadow is in and congratulated him, it didn't seem to bother Cregan that Spencer couldn't get anything out of him. Spnecer nodded. Master Evalyn and Cregan have been pushing Anæus still for answers, but really it's clear to Spencer this person has no intentions on talking, or can't. If what Spencer has been doing isn't going to get it nothing will. Pushing harder with the jumper cables isn't an option, he would put them aside out of his hands. Torture is off the table at this point. Anything more is too cruel even for him. And then what? Do they leave this guy to rot in his cell until he dies? Or what? Release him only to find him on the opposing side of a battlefield again? No.

Spencer has his mind made up, he made his choice and will commit to it. After seeing Cregan very visibly draw his lightsaber, it's only a matter of time as Spencer knows what Cregan is going to do next, it's inevitable at this point. Might as well just do it now and get it over with it. "No." he interjected at Cregan giving the male Exile a second/third-last chance. "He's already had enough chances, he isn't talking." Spencer with his right hand would draw his lightsaber hilt. Now right in front of the Exile in striking range, Spencer would then grip his lightsaber hilt with both hands and then bring it overhead. He would take a deep breath as he prepared to do the deed. He would then address the Exile. "It is unfortunate that it has come to this, but remember in the end you've brought this on yourself. I don't know how exactly the Dark Side has taken hold of you, but your own actions have brought you to where we are now and no turning back. Sorry." He would then close his eyes then ignite his lightsaber bearing it's searing silver blade as he would swing overhead downwards at the Exile, aiming to cut him down where he was from the head down, which would end his life. Spencer steeled himself. He would take no pleasure from doing this, he isn't doing this lightly. He considered this mercy for the Exile. Once the Exile is released of this worldly prison, he will feel no pain ever again and he will be with the Force somewhere, maybe. Spencer is also prepared to face the music with Evalyn if/when it comes down to it. Spencer know she would more than likely very much disapprove of what he is doing. The consequences of his actions are Spencer's own and he is ready to answer to them.

@Valen Pelora
@Nefieslab!
@TheBrokenMadMan
@Hugh Capet

 

[Anæus Pellaxus Vargam]

The task the Mistress and her cohort had busied themselves with was now done, and with its completion came a change in the atmosphere. In a literal sense, it had become thicker, more difficult to breathe. Figuratively, the situation had become much direr in character, as Anæus figured he, too, would share a similar fate to the unfortunate Doctor. Due to his positioning, he could merely see the hunched backs of the perpetrators. Nevertheless, he hoped that his fellow Exile was at least still sound of mind and body. A different man would have felt fear, then, of having his very being altered in an irreversible fashion, but the Bortrasan was somehow satisfied in knowing the virtuous Jedi had sunk so low as to strip the Force from someone. Not only that, but Dan’ela had used her power, not in the heat of battle against an armed enemy, but rather a defenseless woman at the mercy of her sadistic captor. How the Jedi would let this pathetic creature be a part of its Order was something the Exile just couldn’t fathom.

His musings didn’t matter, of course, as he would never get a straight answer from her if he dared ask a question. Doing so would likely result in his being thrown against a wall yet again. As the Mistress approached, her request was so ridiculous as to almost make Anæus drop his recently created air of stoicism, but he held firm. Why would discussing the particulars of his personal life and history be of any benefit at all to the Jedi? Why would she waste her time on something so needless? He was about to comment and suggest that both she and her accomplice rest for the night; however, the weak Jedi suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands and draw a lightsaber aloft and then directly over the Exile’s head. Yet, instead of being afraid or angry or shocked at such a sudden turn, the young man was annoyed at the imbecile’s decision. Time itself seemed to slow as the last remaining seconds of Anæus’s life ticked by, allowing him to ponder several things within that span.

The first thought to come to mind was why this nimrod believed killing him was the best thing to do. Perhaps he despised the Bortrasan’s presence and wanted the man dead so that his time would no longer be wasted? Perhaps he desired to impress Dan’ela with his ruthlessness and brass balls? Or, perhaps, he rationalized that the Exile was useless to him—and the Jedi in general—and thus, in keeping with the cold, unfeeling killer persona, resolved to tie up a loose end by slashing from the head down. Like the Wookiee from so long ago, it seemed even the Jedi were completely fine with murdering others without giving them any chance to fight back, to prove their mettle. Anæus’s thoughts briefly drifted to his father, who would, no doubt, accept the news of the man’s death with flippancy and not care at all that his only son was killed in quite a gruesome fashion. Despite being old, the factory owner still had enough drive and life within him to gain another child to do his dirty work. Hopefully, he would be more successful than the first.

The train of thought shifted from one depressing thought to another as the Bortrasan questioned whether Dan’ela would see fit to reprimand the weak Jedi for killing a potential informant. The very idea, though, caused Anæus to scoff internally. There was no doubt in his mind that the Mistress already knew of his being a waste of time, and thus would be entirely apathetic to his death. Who knew, Dan’ela might even be happy to see him go, due to his being such a bother. The sadistic Jedi, meanwhile, might very well have enjoyed seeing his fellow man being cut into, especially one so ideologically opposed. The final seconds were passing, and thus the Exile’s mind ended one thought and began another. This involved slight confusion as to why a Jedi would kill a man in such a vulnerable position, with his hands at his sides unable to do anything but stare at the blue-colored saber as it hovered above. The answer was obvious; no Jedi possessed any true honor at all, only the barest imitation of it. Anæus, meanwhile, despite all his faults, despite all the lives he’d ended, he at least gave those he killed a chance to defend themselves and die with dignity. He was the enemy, however. He was unworthy of dignity and a noble death. Instead, he would die like a sheep to the slaughter in the hands of those who would laugh at his corpse.

Was there a Heaven or Hell to go to? Flashes of memories came of the man’s father mentioning its existence, and how those of particular alignments within the Force would be sent to one or the other. He was made fully aware that by killing his fellows he would be condemned to Hell and meant to live out eternity in perpetual darkness and madness, unsure of who he was or what life he’d led. There would only be the suffering and agony to endure. As such, Anæus held no fear of damnation. Yet, there erupted from within a burning desire, a hope beyond hope that when the Mistress was to die she would be cast down. He would be able to see her, writhing in torment and anguish, and laugh in her face as it twisted and contorted in the throes of everlasting pain before he fell back into his own world of despair.

The last second ticked and the beam of light and energy sliced clean through to the unfortunate man’s chest, right beneath his charred, blackened heart. Immediately, the sounds of popping and sizzling could be heard emanating from the exposed tissues, though his brain produced the greatest amount. The organ, like the remainder of the revealed flesh, was dark and dead, though other parts cooked as water within the cavity boiled and evaporated. The two partially-halved portions of Anæus’s body hung listlessly, and his arms were splayed outward. In spite of the wound having been cauterized, thick blood traveled from portions of the body left unharmed and seeped from the large, open wound that was the Exile’s chest, neck, and head before dripping onto the stone floor of his cell. Had the man suffered at all was unknown, as his lips remained shut despite having had the skull in its entirety cut in two. That, and his eyes stared blankly outward, the irises having become cloudy.

@Valen Pelora
@Nefieslab
@Faster Than Light
@TheBrokenMadMan
@Loco

 

[The Doctor]

Ever since she had been first inducted into the Jedi, since she had been introduced to this mysterious force that allowed her to do such wonderful things, Aleera had always believed everyone felt it differently. In her mind, with life being so diverse and unique as it was, it only made sense that drawing on those life energies would feel different for everyone, or at least manifest differently. For someone such as herself, The Doctor manifesting the Force often took on a more practical approach, with her mind's eye shapeshifting her body into what it needed for the situation (an eagle for levitation, a tendril or stretching limb for telekinesis etc.) Things changed though, after the Jedi betrayed her. The Doctor found her aura twisting, her Force contorting into something much more...animalistic. Writhing masses of winding invisible tendrils creeping and seeping into every pore and air molecule around her became her new reality, and in her mind, that was actually much more freeing.

Long story short, she prized the Force above almost all else in her life, she recognized how important and precious it was, she spent hours a day honing it and she relished in feeling the sheer life and vibrancy through the universe.

That only made it worse when it was taken from her.

It came slowly at first, a vanilla pain that tenderly pressed against her temples, a sudden fatigue washing through her head. She groaned softly as that feeling began to grow, her restraints suddenly gone as Cregan seemed to retreat into himself. She knew what he was doing though, and deep down, she knew it had already begun, but nevertheless, she persisted, she scrambled to her feet and rushed to the wall, putting whatever miniscule distance she could between them in the fool's hope it could make a difference. Of course, she want thinking straight, she was marked,a rat trying to escape the Chef's knife, she knew it was hopeless but her mind was too damn fragile to accept it and face it, only wanting to run.

Soon enough, the pain began to spike in her mind, streaking down and shearing through her spine, forcing a pained yelp as, for the briefest of seconds, she felt what she had struggled to grasp the past few days. In the last few seconds she had, many things happened, though her body took longer to process things. The Dark Side flowed within her like wildfire, it's tendrils desperate to escape it's encroaching doom. It was already too late though, the Light blinded The Doctor, searing at her mind's eye as transparent harpoons sliced and carved her back to shreds, ripping her tentacles away and slashing at her soul, the Dark Side screaming in frightened wails as it was sealed off. All the while, The Doctor jerked and yelled, racing to all this as if she was being physically inured herself (which she was, to a small degree), the attack on her essence spoiling into the waking world. This was easily the most painful experience in her life, and yet she fought to stay as composed as she could under this assault, even as her nerves st themselves slight and her body howled and slumped to the ground, twisting and rolling, she tried so hard not to lose herself. Ultimately though, the Force existed in all aspects of her being: mind, body, and soul, and her mind was the only thing it hasn't touched yet.

The Light's hold on her cemented, it advanced on her already ailing mind, barely needing more than a gentle tap to make it crack. Memories flooded her brain and flicked across her retinas, Tey leaving her, the saber to her neck, running far, ohsofaaaAaar, meeting RAZ agAin, oh brOother, sweetsweetbrother, oh how she missssed him. No! No, she couldn't g-g-g-g-give in, she couldn't give them the satisfaction, she wouldn't bow down to their lies! Not again! She didn't do anything wrong! She loved her! She...She loved her!! Sh-she...

You didn't love her, you just wanted her for yourself, after all...lovers don't try to lobotomize their loves. You are not in the right...you are the Villain, accept it.

Just like that, she couldn't take anymore. Aleera shot up onto her feet as she let out a deafening scream of pure agony that did it's best to share it's pain with the three Jedi. She lost all control, her body beginning to shudder and bubble as her shapeshifting lost all form and function. Her arms twisted and morphed, losing all muscle mass and pouring into her fingers, which cracked and bent inwards on themselves, turning to putty as they seemed to stretch and fall from their skeleton, making her look like she was melting. Her skin visibly darkened and greyed, her legs collapsing in on themselves and similarly warping, straining the seams of her prison uniform as toes painfully split off from each other and devolved into two masses of writhing tentacles, flailing around hopelessly as her body futilely tried to regain control. Aleera's face pulsed and tensed as her veins began to bulge and turn purple, her hair retreating into it's scalp until it was shoulder length before individual strands conglomerated into great grey clumps. Her eyes lost their chocolate color, blazing coals lighting them into a scarlet red as her lips thinned and shriveled, still screaming. She could barely speak, let alone plead, but some small part of her brain that still functioned knew they might take this the wrong way with the abominations they've faced, so through the screaming, she managed to spur it a singular sentence in her mother tongue. "Ahlloigehye ah nafl ngahnah ya! Y' ahorna wgah'n ya, Y' ah Shi'ido! Shi'ido!!!" She pleaded through coarse chords and swelling sobs, tears beginning to stream from her face.

Ultimately, as quickly as she had lost control, it was snatched back. As the darkness began to overtake her, her body began to reform and solidify once more, until it was something resembling Aleera again, though with some notable differences. Her hair had turned from brown to a stark white, and her face had taken on many of her old, battle hardened qualities, as opposed to her previously soft and unblemished appearance, despite the broken and veined greenish skin that now dotted her body, whee her Shi'ido form threatened to break through. If anyone had ever met her as a jedi, she would be much more recognizable now, though she was barely a shell anymore. Aleera, The Doctor, whoever she was now, simply curled up into a fetal position and started to silently sob as sleep dragged her away, the last drops of life in the world leaving her sight.

 

[Evalyn Dan’ela]

Evalyn desperately wanted to crawl back upstairs and fall asleep. She was exhausted. What Cregan and her had done was unnatural. The Force was supposed to flow through all things. Her decision was not a product of the Darkness, but it was not truly of the Light. This was a strange in between. Evalyn had heard of using the Light to block out the Darkness. The Darkside could be burned away with the power of the Light. That was not what they had done to the Exile. Cregan and Evalyn had simply taken the Force from her. As far as she knew, the Exile would never feel the Force again. She was cutoff from the very lifeforce of the galaxy.

Evalyn could only imagine the pain of having the Force taken away. They had considered doing this to Alais once, a truly cruel punishment. She mostly ignored the screaming, writhing, and strangeness of the Exile during the stripping. Simply put, the woman was no longer a concern. The moment the Exile passed out, she passed from Evalyn’s mind. The Onderonian Jedi Master was focused on the present. She blocked out and the pain radiating from the Exile. She was preparing to face their remaining charge when Spencer took matters into his own hands. Evalyn did not object as Spencer executed the man. Her mind was still surrounded by towering walls. The death washed across her in the Force. It was an unpleasant feeling. Evalyn wished it could have been different but the truth was harsh. This was war.

The Darkside won with every death. This was one less Exile they had to worry about stabbing them in the back. Evalyn nodded slowly. “We are finished here.” She would take no pleasure in any of this. “Thank you, both of you. I could not have done this alone.” Her eyes lingered on Cregan and Spencer. Another hard truth. The Order needed the Shadows. “Clean up the mess.” She had been nice for a moment. Evalyn wrapped herself more tightly in the Force as she stalked from the chambers. This was over. She was finished. The Jedi had won a small victory today but at what cost?

OOC: Exit thread @Nefieslab @Faster Than Light @TheBrokenMadMan @Hugh Capet

 

[Darth Evandrus]

The Doctor was done.

It was a rather sad thing to witness, the way she came undone at the seams with their removal of the Force from her. While he could certainly understand it, Cregan didn't believe for a second that it would have been as bad had the woman actually been in harmony with the Force. She was an Exile though - she had perverted her connection to the Force and through that had perverted the Force itself just that little bit more. Enough that having it cut off from her was probably similar to having a sense removed (as it would be for a Light side user) but also feeling like your entire body was going through withdrawal from the removal of a rather lovely, addictive, drug that you had been feeding yourself for years.

The physical transformation was something of a surprise to him but he left the cell quickly enough after the stripping of the Force that he didn't have to look at it. And speaking of not looking, as he saw Spencer beginning to draw his lightsaber, Cregan reached out with the Force and smashed the camera for the cell. He could have blocked it, like Evalyn had done, had he the energy but he was pretty damn tired. He watched with barely any reaction at all as Spencer dispatched the Exile.

The man hadn't begged for his life so he was already better than some Exiles.

Cregan gave Spencer a firm pat on the shoulder as they went to exit the cell,

"You did well." he congratulated Spencer with a grin before looking back at the body, "Let me take care of this..."

Using the Force, Cregan brought forth fire and engulfed the Exile's corpse, collecting the ash and smoke from the fast-burning fire and compressing it tighter and tighter into a ball. When the assembled dust and ash was little more than the size of a marble, it had been compressed into a stone-like material, that Cregan popped into one of his pockets before nodding to Evalyn to let her know that he had cleaned up that particular mess.

Shrugging a little bit, Cregan entered the cell that held The Doctor.

Wandering over to her now that her transformation appeared complete and yet she was still falling asleep, he wrapped the Force around her like a rope, wrapping her limbs close together as he hummed to himself. Sitting down on the edge of the cot that had been set up for her, he sat up upright against the cot with the Force so that she could see the open door to the cell but was unable to break through the Force restraints that bound her. He continued to hum as he pulled her hair sharply to keep her awake for a moment longer, turning the motion into a smoothly hair stroke as he continued,

"You're not going to escape." he cooed to her softly, almost singing the words to her as he continued to idly stroke her hair, putting her on edge with the content of his words and how soft his actions were so far, "So you should just come to accept it. You'll have a trial and you may die. Or we may just release you into the wild, wouldn't that be kind of us? To throw you to your old comrades, the sharks that smell your blood in the water? Hmm? No?"

He patted her cheek with a hand idly as he stood up, keeping her sat upright with her legs laid out in front of her. Humming still, Cregan paused for a moment to consider something before nodding to himself. Using the Force, he strengthened his leg muscles as he stamped down savagely on The Doctor's exposed left ankle, shattering the bone painfully beneath his heel before removing his foot and shrugging slightly,

"Can't blame a guy for wanting to stack the deck though eh?"

He chuckled and gave her a winning smile as he stepped outside of her cell. He made sure to release his grip on her in the Force... just in time for her to move perhaps an inch before the door slammed shut and locked. He chuckled a little bit to himself and contented himself with thoughts of what cocktail he wanted to try and push Spencer to try with him.

/Exit Thread
@TheBrokenMadMan @Hugh Capet @Faster Than Light @Loco @Valen Pelora

 

[Spencer Ward]

After he had done the deed with the Exile moments before, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed, he processed what ha had done. He knew what he had done, but he took no pleasure in it. He cut down the Exile, in a fashion that would probably be regarded as especially brutal and a little too graphic by newly-minted Knights or the more pacifistic of the Order. It didn't phase Spencer Ward one bit, he has killed Dark Siders before and saw the horrors of war before. It was all over though. the younger Shadow was very much expecting a massive chewing out from Master Dan'ela, but it never came. Instead him and Cregan were thanked. Spencer would nod in her way before she would take her leave.

"Thank you" Spencer would say to Cregan as he would dispose of the Exile's body with pyrokesnis. When ordered to dispose of it, that's what he had in mind, but Cregan gotten to it first and most likely would have quicker for him anyway. Spencer saw that the camera in the cell was destroyed, and with the body disposed of, nobody else outside Cregan and Evalyn will know that Spencer executed a prisoner. After the Exile's body was turned into ash and dust. Spencer would then look towards the way of the door out of the holding areas, then head that way and exit, leaving Cregan who is probably making sure the Doctor is locked up nice and tightly and still breathing and alive. He doesn't care what happens to her next. She might be put on trial (and maybe killed) or left to rot in her cell for the rest of her days. Who knows, maybe she might be released and be going back to her Exile friends. The Jedi will cross that bridge when they tget there she supposes. Although they were down two less Dark Siders, with one dead and one stripped of the Force, that won't make up for what happened at Telos. But it's a good start in baby-steps though.

/exit thread

 

[The Doctor]

Aleera was finished, all strength had left her, and all sense of feeling had left her. She was alone in the dingy cell, a lump of meat laying in pain that she could barely muster the strength to react to as the dark started to beckon to her. She wasn't about to argue at this point, she needed it, after all that happened, a good rest, a nice piece of music to soothe her to sleep in this dungeon, that was what she needed, yes...maybe all this was just a dream...please. Almost as if her prayer had been answered, the murky stone and dust seemed to roll back and slither from her sight as that sweet weightlessness overtook her senses, letting her just float listlessly. She would've smiled softly at the thought, if it weren't for a sharp tug at her ruined, leathery hair, yanking her back into the waking world a little while longer.

Immediately, her face fell into dull surprise as the cell returned, with the Shadow standing over her, stroking her hair like a darned orderly that cared too much, gleefully telling her about what waited in store. She didn't really care anymore, she had stopped listening minutes ago, he was just speaking to a shell for the moment. She barely even flinched when he brought his foot down on her ankle, letting out a simple grunt of discontent. It was in the last moments though, as the pain began to drown her again, that her eyes narrowed and fixed themselves on the Shadow as he turned to leave, quivering lips struggling to form a shaking sentence as she was left to stew and rot in the Jedi's crypt.

"C...C-C-Cre...Creeeeegan...Cregan....Cregan..."

OOC: EXIT/END THREAD

 

[Fennex Zeerda]

One Eternity Later...

​

"No, I did that already..." Fennex repeated into the comm unit as he banged his paw on the worthless holoprojector, "No, I'm telling you, I've unplugged it and plugged it back in three times already!"

He was exasperated and frustrated with the temple's technical support staff. How hard was it to keep the holding cell monitoring systems in working order? Too hard, apparently, Fen thought as he pounded on the thing in vain, succeeding only in making the static bounce and flicker erratically while he continued to see and hear nothing that was going on inside the cells.

"Yes," Fen growled, "I'll hold."

He was going to miss the entire interrogation at this rate.