"I don't think so," she retorted, giving her head another toss as she turned around to the coffee-maker, still sitting innocuously on the counter. One slender, clawed finger reached out delicately to toy with it as she considered further what to say. Having been born to the All as she was, she knew that the means of its disappearance was more than something merely mechanical. That might block those who had to struggle to use it, but not someone to whom its strength came naturally.

Whether the two understood this small but important difference, she couldn't say. And at the moment, she really didn't know if she wanted them privy to this knowledge.

However, the fact of this unknown city's existence intrigued her, peaked her interest in an entirely selfish way.

Once the All returned to her, it would mean that others could use it again as well. But if its use did indeed depend on the mysterious devices spoken of by Shayla, then there was a means to prevent anybody from using its wonderful strength ever again.

Except for anyone born into it, of course... which as far as she knew meant only herself.

A sly little smile crept over her features, only to be hushed into silence by that inner darkness within. When she turned round to face the others again there wasn't even the tiniest trace to indicate it had ever been there at all.

"And you believe Mother would willingly provide us with the coordinates to this place, or better yet, actually lead us there herself?" she queried, wanting to know just how much Shayla truly knew, seeking to glean highly important kernels from the chaff.

--------------------

“Perhaps if she was willing to join in your venture, she might tell you. But I think that is unlikely, she would need to be persuaded. Before we go gallivanting off to restore the All, we may want to dispatch of the people who could use it against us. Namely, Aelvedaar, the Master, and just for good measure, Phalomir. Hopefully your mother will come along with you.”

--------------------

Take a care!

She paused fractionally, then smiled.

"And how do you propose we do this thing?" she replied in a deathly purr. "While those we detest do not have their powers, they are physically more powerful then we. At least I believe them to be thus."

The eye she adhered to Panthar's frame now roved up and down it appraisingly.

"You may have the strength to handily dispatch Lord Aelvedaar, if we can somehow catch him alone and away from his minions. But Lord Phalomir is powerful; he may be more than a match for us. And as for mother..."

Another pause while something drear flashed behind her eyes.

"Don't you think she will hate us for killing her namby-pamby love? Do you truly think it wise to destroy Lord Phalomir, without likewise destroying her? I believe this would be an easy thing to accomplish; without the All, she is merely a human female, and one not raised in the ways of the warrior."

She flicked her gaze to Shayla, who sat glowering amidst her spilled coffee.

"Even you should find this task undaunting," she finished before falling silent, letting them think she was thinking while in reality she was giving that Darkness within her leave to offer any suggestions it thought feasible to their plans.

--------------------

“I believe Graysith may be worth saving,” he said simply. “Lord Aelvedaar is as good as gone, as far as I am concerned. And it is true that Phalomir is fairly handy with the warrior arts – he was raised in the traditions of all three clans, so he says – but I know his greatest weakness. It brought him to his knees before, and it will most certainly do it again. And the irony of it is most amusing, for it is Graysith herself – or rather, Jharmeen – that can send him off his guard. He cares too much for her, I have first-hand accounting of that. He would give himself to save her, or fall into despair over losing her. I can’t even count how many times he actually did lose her, and he still goes through the same fit each time.”

Panthar then drew his hands up and held them behind his head, while in the same motion his feet propped themselves onto the edge of the table and he leaned back in his seat. He allowed his arms to tighten and the muscles adorning his massive arms contracted into a most impressive display. His smile broadened.

“But the greatest asset of all, at least for now, is that Phalomir still trusts me. In fact, he thinks I am out there right now looking for him. How right he is.”

--------------------

"That Lord Phalomir trusts you, I mean; this can be used to our advantage. It will make it all the easier for you to dispatch him."

She nodded in a satisfied manner, letting the tips of her fangs peep out as the thought of a dying Dark Lord Phalomir rose up in front of her. Truth be known, it wasn't so much that she felt him a powerful adversary who needed to be gotten out of the way...

It just stung yet for the manner in which he had treated her. And for that, and that alone, she would have his head on a plate.

"But as for Mother... I think you're wrong. You said we should destroy everyone who could conceivably use the All against us--"

Here she shot an almost imperceptible sidelongs glance Shayla's way, appraising her yet again. True, the young woman did make sacrifice to S'slan, but it had been Sith blood she had spilled. Even ShaRhylla recognized the call of like blood to like blood; would Shayla's arm have been as unerring if that sacrifice had been human?

Time would certainly tell, oh yes indeedy. She had plans...

She let her gaze slide back to Panthar again.

"Remember, Mother was adept in its use," she went on. "She killed my father's true mate, the Lady Kreesha, who was Sith, and that is not an easy feat. I doubt she could have done it without the All; she will never join with us if we slay Lord Phalomir, you know, but would probably use the All against us.

"I say we rid ourselves of her as well, before it is restored to her, and seek out this place of great machines to possibly prevent it ever being used by anyone."

Something dark flashed deep within her dilating pupils.

"Even me; I have means enough to take care of myself without it, if need be," she purred, knowing that once whatever had halted the All in its tracks was eliminated, she would have it back again, machines or no machines. And even if she didn't, something lurking within every fiber of her being promised that what she so offhandedly threw out was, indeed, very much true.

[ 05-12-2009 07:13 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

--------------------

"If the place has not been destroyed already,' she said instead in response to ShaRhylla's final statements. "That Which Is has been known to destroy machines which manipulate the All before."

She paused then, something flashing briefly in the depths of her eyes as another thought surfaced. "At any rate, something or someone is able to block more than just something controlled by a machine, but also our inborn abilities...

...which is anything but the natural order of things That Which Is speaks so boldly about."

She paused a final time, then made a final, seemingly off-handed statement. "How will you be certain that in killing your mother she will remain thus? After all, I know of at least two instances in which she was brought back from the dead, and this was allowed."

--------------------

“A good point!” he exclaimed. “However, in one case she was killed only in spirit – literally. Thoran had stolen her spirit away and ferried her to the Master. It was good ol’ Phally that led the charge, with you I might add, in getting her put back together. I’m not sure about the other time you speak of, but I’m sure it had something to do with a band of faithful friends going to the Darker Realms. Well, that certainly won’t be happening again, and Phal will most certainly be out of the picture. So, the odds of a third resurrection are very very slim.”

Panthar chuckled once more and then drew a more serious breath.

“But That Which Is will most certainly always remain a concern. It just makes no sense to me that the All, the Force, Sith magic, all of it is just… gone. I think something is simply blocking it, not allowing the connections between the forces and those who are sensitive to them to fire.”

He turned towards ShaRhylla and cocked his head slightly. “If I may ask, my most lovely of Ladies, is there any feeling at all, any connection, however tiny? You were born with the connection, it should be within your very fibers, and if there is even the faintest of feelings between you and the All, or even the Darker Realms, then it would go a long way to suggesting I am right.”

--------------------

"That which you call the Darker Realms," she began in a darkly lethal purr. "It-- it is with me, is always with me."

She didn't bother trying to explain herself; knowing that since what dwelt within Panthar was part and parcel to herself, it truly wasn't necessary. As for her newest comrade...

One day, I promise you Shayla, you too shall feel the sweet sting of death, the dark joy it brings, the pain of renewed life, the continuous cycle, over and over and over.

Her jaws clenched, rippling the muscles on the side of her face. Quickly, she looked down, letting her curls hide her face for a moment before looking up at the others again.

"As for the other, well... I cannot touch it now," she admitted sullenly, fisting her hands as she fought to push down a sudden flood of anger so dense, so overwhelming that it made her want to rush at either of the other two, it mattered not who, claws raised, fangs bared, wanting to rip the life from either of them in recompense for what she deemed to be the grievous act dealt to her by... she knew not what.

Or who.

--------------------

“I too feel the Realms,” he said. “But I sense that the connection to it with you is stronger. I long for that, and yearn to again open the doors to the home lands. But my feelings stand firm, that the connection to such things as the Realm, and the All, is merely blocked. Thus, when Phalomir is dead, and Graysith is in our possession, we will use her to find the secrets of…”

Panthar paused, something else popping into his mind.

“There is another possibility,” he said. “There was a place that Phalomir brought us, a long time ago before we knew him for the liar he is. He told us then that his father was none other than Trelanicus, the ancient mage who turned against the All and made connections with powers beyond it. It was a large workshop, living spaces, and such. We could force – or trick – Phalomir to take us there, perhaps this is a key to finding the greater prize.”

--------------------

"I would not trust Phalomir, regardless of whether he could be tricked or not," Shayla said flatly, realizing that her reasons for not trusting him stemmed from the same ones that were disturbing her now.

"This place you speak of, and this Trelanicus, there must be a record of it and him somewhere within the Sith libraries whether the Revealer is working or not. No one is even sure if Trelanicus exists at all, and no one has researched it either," she observed. "Because of all of these discrepancies and because of who and what he is, we should be trusting Phalomir even less than we could trust Graysith, who has placed the Sith race above all else. And as for Graysith..."

She paused, looking at ShaRhylla directly and not flinching, "Certainly we could kill her on the spot and protect ourselves from the potential of her using the All against us...

"... or we could use her knowledge of the place I spoke of and enlighten her to the danger of trusting Phalomir before the All is restored to anyone, as we discussed back on K'eel Doba. If she does not come to realize this, well...

...then that will be the time to kill her. But until then, why destroy the one person who may be able to lead us somewhere that we could control use of the All by others...

...and may be come a powerful ally as well?"

Shayla paused, casting a dark look ShaRhylla's way. "Unless of course you are afraid you are not strong enough to defeat her yourself should that time come."

As you are so obviously certain that you can control those already here, came a final dark thought.

--------------------

Either way, Shayla was right and even ShaRhylla could not deny it. Not really.

“Graysith would indeed be a powerful ally,” he said. “Of course, that reduces me to the fourth wheel on a three wheeled cart, but I suppose a life of serving the three most enchanting beings in the galaxy would not be all that bad. I’m more than just good looks and muscle.”

His eyes danced in the dim ship light as his eyebrows waggled once with a life of their own.

“Much more.”

His smile quickly faded, though, as the business at hand came back around.

“But if we do wish to visit this ancient lab, it should be somewhat easy to find. We have both been there, Shayla, and if I remember correctly we flew back in a ship that was stored there. It should have the coordinates, even if we do not remember where exactly we were. I do know it was colder than a sorceror’s teat, being on the northern band of that damn planet.”

Another smile crossed his lips as paused and viewed the still tense air between the two women.

“But not nearly as cold as the air in this room,” he quipped. “What say you then, should we have a group hug and go kill a big red imposter?”

[ 06-01-2009 11:11 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Panthar Dantares ]

--------------------

They both wish her to remain alive... I do not, the dark thought slunk through her head as she eyeballed the two. An even darker niggle belly-crept stealthily within, cautioning her to be wary as she considered further what she should do.

Take a care... was all it whispered.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as from somewhere precautionary wisdom reared its head, bidding her to wonder if that same darkness was paralleling itself in Panthar, making his words but a sham for Shayla's sake. After all, the erstwhile Chosen Sister had yet to truly prove herself to them, to her.

Her eyes slid back to Shayla and rested there.

"Oh, very well," she humphed again, giving her head another toss.

"If this is the concensus between you two, then I can scarcely stand against it."

At least, not yet.

"Mother's death can wait until we have gotten from her that which we need. But as for Lord Phalomir, who so cockily presumes to ordain himself a Dark Lord to the people, well--"

Her lips curled in a grin of genuine delight.

"We can practice with him what we shall later deal to mother. Then we three will teach our people how to live in a manner more enlightening to them, don't you think?"

Again, of this she really cared not one whit. All that concerned her was the retrieval of her powers, and the elimination of those standing in her way. And somewhere deep inside, that silky darkness within smiled to see this...

All the better to send millions of souls to those who would feed upon them, those who would then grow stronger for the feeding, and allow the Game to take a great leap in an entirely new direction.

ShaRhylla smiled sweetly, and let her fangs show.

"So, where do we go to find this so-called imposter?" she asked as she draped herself back against the counter again, one slender finger reaching up to toy with a tendril of her fiery hair.

[ 06-08-2009 12:20 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

--------------------

...finding the one with the coordinates could take quite some time."

She paused then, remembering that trip to the hidden lair in suddenly esquisite detail...

...and remembering just how Phalomir had acted. He had somehow blocked her from acting on Tarnus's ship, had managed to get himself, Thoran, and Panthar out of one body into three, and had gone galavanting off after Thoran despite other pressing concerns...

...ones that, in Shayla's estimation, were far more important.

She shook herself from these thoughts. "But then, maybe there is a way we can extract the coordinates from Phalomir, who took us there to begin with. Of course," she then added, her eyes locking onto Panthar, "You were in the same body with him at the time. Perhaps you know the coordinates without us having to trouble ourselves with the likes of Phalomir."

[ 06-11-2009 02:16 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

Panthar paused, his eyes defocusing for a moment

“It is quite the horrible experience to see from your own eyes and not be in charge of your actions.”

Panthar snapped back to attention. He wasn’t quite sure why he said that, except perhaps to add to the dramatic effect. It was the sort of thing the whimpering real personality of Panthar would say, and sweetly ironic it was.

“But nonetheless, if we wish to pursue the secret lab then we will have to get the information from Phalomir. I believe I can do it. But first we have to find him. Now, if I recall, he did take a com link with him.”

--------------------

"I don't recall him having a commlink," Shayla responded honestly, "but if he did we should be able use that. "But if he did have a commlink and has been stranded on Endor, don't you think he would have used it by now?"

She shook her head. "I think you are mistaken. And just how precisely do you think you will be able to get him to tell you those coordinates? Unless, of course, you are proposing that we come in playing the role of friend and rescuer," she ended, scowling darkly at the thought...

...but knowing that, if push came to shove, she was more than capable of doing just that.

--------------------

--------------------

"This is agreeable to me," she stated simply, turning then to Shayla.

"Continue on to Endor then, and let us hope that the Imposter Dark Lord is there, as you believe him to be."

A sweet smile curled falsely about her lips.

"I cannot imagine where else he might be, actually, and since he has not returned with Mother to K'eel Doba, why, he must certainly yet be somewhere searching for her, somewhere familiar to you. You state it is Endor; I shall take you at your word."

She paused a moment then, her eyes flashing a promise of what might conceivably happen to Shayla should the young woman be wrong. Then the sinister smile on her face faded.

"Will we be able to find him there?" she asked, curiously at a loss. "Inhabited or not, it is a large planet after all."

[ 06-22-2009 10:26 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

--------------------

"This is the Eagle requesting information regarding the whereabouts of Lt. General Sorben Tarnus, whose last known destination is your world, where some believe he may have become captive. Is he being held as speculated?"

[ 06-21-2009 09:10 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Terrin Danner ]

--------------------

Shayla paused, sighing. "The ship should be able to give us a descent readout of the kinds of lifesigns in range of our scopes when we arrive. I do not believe Phalomir has a comm as Panthar suggests, though," she said, her eyes darkening once more. "If only I had connection to the Force, I could at least sense there proximity to us."

Quieting then, Shayla's eyes grew a bit distant as she thought. "If only one of them had something on them that the ship's sensors could trace," she then said. "The only thing I can think of is your Mother's rune, and without the All it is inactive."

--------------------

The halfling gave her head an imperious toss.

"If the sensors of this craft can pick up various lifesigns within it's range, and if it can figure out what is what, why..."

She blinked and smiled again.

"Why, then we must travel round and round and round Endor, until the sensors pick up the lifesigns of those we are seeking."

And they had better!

--------------------

That the celery-eyed Major-Domo left brusquely in charge was not a happy camper was something of an understatement. Not that he minded being left in charge; oh no. True to the dictates of the Warrior Caste in general, he viewed this as a means to an end, a most glorious end indeed. Visions of a happier future floated in his head, visions of he and his family risen in status and perhaps even allowed to live in the Great Temple of the Warriors -- all of them, of course, as he did have his own tiny quarters.

But those visions were abruptly squashed when the news came to his ears that not one, but two -- TWO! -- of the several prisoners held in captivity had somehow managed to escape from the previously believed to be inescapeable dungeons.

And of COURSE one was the human to whom this unexpected request referred.

He dithered, drumming his elegant fingers along one crossed arm while he waited for results of the latest of myriad sweeps of the Temple. So far nothing had turned up, nothing at all, not so much as a peep of anything.

They had to have had assistance! he fumed to himself as yet another warrior, stiffly at attention, reported the umpteenth failure in turning up the missing prisoners.

It is impossible to escape our dungeons; not even our magicks can give a prisoner the ability to do so!

If they had their magicks, that is. The fact that they had disappeared as well, and remained gone for so lengthy a time bothered him no end.

Perhaps there was a connection?

His drumming fingers picked up their pace.

Perhaps there is a connection! Perhaps those who are calling now are doing so to see if their own magicks worked, and if the release of their companion had been successful! That power of some sort was in play was evident by the simple fact that they had sent a broadcast capable of being picked up by Sith receivers. Immediate scans of immediate space showed no untoward vessels anywhere near K'eel Doba.

If this latter was indeed the case--

He sighed, dithering further, truly stuck between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, if his suspicions were correct, denying that Tarnus had ever been a prisoner was certain to bring down the wrath of the strangers. Strangers who obviously did possess magick, and were more than likely more powerful than his own race. He assumed the caller to be human, and wondered where in all of S'slan's creation they ever managed get such magick. Then he bit his own mental tongue; did he dare allow himself the luxury of assuming the caller to even be human? He might be lying. He might not even be a he!

But if he admitted that yes, Tarnus was here-- er, that is, he had been, why, wouldn't that bring down judgment upon K'eel Doba in a manner too harsh to even conceive?

He dithered, while underlings manning communications waited patiently for his order.

Much as he wanted to, he didn't dare ignore this. Who knew where it might lead; the Lady ShaRhylla would be even more unhappy than he if she returned to find their world taken from them! The only solution, therefore, at least as far as he could determine, was to admit to the absolute truth as he knew it, and pass the buck of Tarnus' disappearance into the slavering hands of person or persons unknown.

Gulping, he barked a reply, which the communications underling sent back in response.

"Unknown being or beings who go by the name of Eagle: this is Phrinnchatka in reply. Much to our regret, the human you seek was indeed held in inadvertent captivity, for his own protection against those among us who would do him harm.

That much was at least true, if one looked at things in a particular way.

"Unfortunately, within the past day or so he was mysteriously removed from his, ahh-- cubicle, by a method and person or persons unknown to us. At this moment we believe that he is not within the walls of our Great Temple, where he was, erm-- protected, and may not even be within the city."

He paused a fraction longer.

"Or our world," the underling finished, shooting an uncomfortable look into the icy green eyes of the Major-Domo even as his finger touched the sigil to transmit, sending the message winging upon its way.

Shayla paused then, her eyes darkening at the very thought of such happening. Any further discussion on this note, however, was truncated by the chirping of the ship's proximity indicator.

"We're reverting in Endor space," Shayla then said, turning without any further explanation and heading for the cabin to then take control of the Preon's navboard. She piloted them gracefully out of hyperspace and established orbit around the planet easily, as though she and the ship were almost one. As soon as she was certain they were securely in orbit, she programmed the sensors to scan for humanoid lifesigns and sat back for a few moments, knowing the ship would do its work effectively without her manual control. Even so, her curiosity regarding the nature of the teeming life below won out, and she sat forward once again as lifesign data scrolled across the central monitor on the ship's navboard.

Unsurprisingly, the readings were mostly of semi-sentient, primitive species. Shayla's eyes and senses remained glued to the navboard,the readout, and the ship's sensors then. An indeterminate amount of time passed, but she was uncaring as to its passage or to the potential impatience developing in her companions.

For the moment, there was nothing but herself and the ship. And finally, as the readout began registering lifeforms that were recognized as Ewok in npecies by the ship's databases, and anomaly finally surfaced...

...and humanoid life forms registered in the Preon's scopes.

"There," Shayla then said, pointing to the monitor where a map splayed out, a single red blip indicating the area where the humanoid life forms had registered. And, needing no instruction to do so, Shayla began landing procedures, setting herself to the task of finding a viable spot to land the Preon safely before they went on their way.

(((OCC: Follow Shayla, ShaRhylla, and Panthar to If You Go Out in the Woods Today in the CSWU, thank you.)))

[ 08-07-2009 12:44 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

Time passed, as it always did. To tell the truth, it had been perhaps but one standard year since her brief but heart-inspiring connection with the sorcerer Freedon Naad, but to the young serving girl it seemed as if eons had dragged by. Her life had neither improved nor degraded; she was still a simple serving girl, ferrying water to those wielding greater power and position within the Temple, and from all indications destined to remain as such for the remainder of her days. Most in her position would have just let themselves grow dull, acquiescing to the drudgery of their position by refusing to consider anything better, and in the doing find a semblance of happiness in the meager crumbs life threw at them.

Not RhoHalla.

She adhered to the vow she had made to herself, to make something better of herself, and knew that in order to do so she would have to leave the Temple. But a young female without the wing of a family to hide beneath was less than the dirt upon which all others trod; better for her that she remain where she was, secure in the dubious honor of working in the Great Temple of the Warriors. And so to compensate, she continued to keep herself sharp in the best way that she knew how: by doing her duties to the best of her ability, and afterwards using much of her short, free hours to learn.

About anything.

She scoured the Temple, finding shortcuts to places others had no idea existed. She found a crumbling door deep in the Temple belly, one which when creakingly opened revealed a noisome corridor. The following day she had come better prepared; armed then with a small torch and a bit of food she had set out along that corridor, coming at last to a chamber which out of nowhere blasted her mind and heart, sending chills of sheer terror washing through her, beating her down and back and back... until she had at length awakened, back in that dark little corridor, wondering just what in S'slaan's name had happened to her. Shaking, she had found her way back to the Temple, only to discover she had been absent for the period of two entire days; it took all the wiles and acting abilities she could muster to convince her superiors that she had taken ill, and hadn't been able to contact anyone. Which in a way hadn't been too far from the truth, after all.

That particular close escape haunted her every day thereafter, and she worked hard to develop skills of stealth and deception. But always with the goal in mind of learning everything she could about this great stone edifice, along with all the information she could glean about its inhabitants.

Thus she knew that the Dark Lady had gone missing. Knew that the headstrong Daughter had likewise done so. Knew the fool of a Major Domo tried his best to run everything, but couldn't manage as much as he thought he could. Knew that yet another human languished in the Temple's dreary, buried dungeons, perhaps in the very one that had once held the strange being called Thoran, whose escape she had aided and abetted.

And for which complicity she had been forgiven, by none other than the Dark Lady herself.

She really had nothing against the Dark Lady Graysith, and actually believed she owed her respect and loyalty. But she still held firmly to her own personal belief: that she was a living entity, who deserved to be treated for who she was, not what she was. And she continued to keep her eyes and ears open, and to poke about, and to learn.

Thus it was that one day she had accidentally stumbled upon The Magick. She had no idea what to really call it, actually, nor had she the slightest clue as to who was behind it.

Perhaps Freedon--?

All she knew was that one day she had been creeping through a sparsely used portion of the Temple when one hand accidentally brushed against the dank moss growing upon the stone walls. To her surprise they writhed beneath her touch... and then drew back to configure themselves into words.

I am here, they had spelled out in shaggy, green fronds. Speak to me now that you have found me.

From that day on she returned to The Magick as often as she could, more than once going without sleep, giving up all her free time, coming here again and again to "speak" with the stranger behind the wall, who bit by bit was beginning to teach her touches of magick.

Now she stood in silence before the words written in noisome greenery:

I have much to tell you.

The mosses writhed then, and returned to their normal mass. She nodded, her heart beating a bit faster with anticipation of what was to be revealed to her soon.

But not this night.

A little smile on her face she fled The Magick, hurrying the long distance she had to cover in order to reach her simple chamber before daybreak...

((OOC: For cross-reference please see Ancient Sith post this date, page 2 in A Rose So Sweet in the "Sith/Jedi" forums, thank you.))

Deep within the bowels of the Great Warrior Temple of K'eel Doba, in a dark and dank cell covered with moss, Matt Stanza sat in a painfully awkward position, chained to the walls by both his hands and feet, stripped of most of his clothing as though his captors feared he might use something on him to free himself. Occassionally, someone would shove a meager piece of something that he thought was once bread through a very small slot in the door of his cell. Matt ate this with great effort, having to twist his arms strangely to get it to his lips. The first time he had partaken the pathetic morsel, his stomach had rejected it...

...but at this point he was so hungry the taste or its potential quality mattered little. After he finished eating, a tray with something wet was shoved through the slot as well. This he was forced to lean over and lap up like an animal.

Matt really had no idea how long he had been in this dismal place, for he frequently fell in and out of conciousness due to overwhelming fatique and pain due to his precarious positioning. He wondered why he was being kept alive at all, and was beginning to believe that someone was gaining a great deal of delight from the manner in which he was being treated. At first, he had worried about the fates of the Sith who had been with him, and had called out to see if anyone was surrounding him. He attempted this several times, and was rewarded with lashes delivered by one strapping Sith warrior or another, all who semed to take great glee in having the opportunity to beat their prisoner. He cursed himself mentally for not backing out of the situation when he could have for quite a while as well.

But at length he was in such agony that, even as alert as he was, he could not think clearly, at least not for any great amount of time. He had just regained some modicum of alertness long enough to eat and drink what was provided via the slot, ignoring the lurch of disgust in his stomach at the sour taste of both, and was beginning to drift once more when something of his normal alertness kept him awake. He once more considered calling out again, but quickly remembered the end result, wincing as a minimally healed beating wound seemed to throb in reminder. His muscles ached, every last one of them, and he yearned for relief from the strange way in which he'd been chained to the wall. He shifted as if doing so would somehow give him some release, and instead felt an uprush of pain. He involuntarily cried out in agony despite his determination to not draw the attention of guards that had to be lingering nearby...

...and the chains that held him remained secure.

But...

For another unusual moment of mental clarity, an idea began to form in Matt's fatiqued mind.

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Things that by all logic he should have been killed for knowing.

So he wondered again why the kriffing hell he was still alive. His muscles ached at the very thought, and he shifted as much as he could in his restricted position, stabs of sharp pain shooting up and down his legs, spine, and arms. Matt gritted his teeth and forced down an unvoluntary groan as much as he could, cursing the chains that held him. He had been trying for quite some time--and pretty much in vain--to twist and turn them until something snapped free from the wall. He hadn't been successful yet, but he wasn't ready to give up either. At the very least, his action did remind the Sith guards that he was there, for every once in a while his work had created enough of a stir that they had come in to remind him that they were there as well via quick but painful lashings. Something about it all reminded Matt of the Embrace of Pain the Vong were so notorious for...a biological something-or-other that held a person in place so that they were in just enough pain to not fight back but still be cognizant of the agony. Matt had even read of how some people were hung upside down to make the experience even more disorienting.

The very thought made him thankful his situation wasn't any worse. After all, the Sith were down the magicks that the usually relied upon, as was everyone else. Matt took a few shuddery deep breaths then to prepare himself for the effort he was about to make. Then, putting all his strength into moving his arms and legs and torso while striving to do so as quietly as possible, Matt began to twist and turn the chains that bond him in his cell once more.

It was as though these Sith knew he and his commrades had worked their way out of many impossible situations in the past...

...but then again, they had been lead to believe he was someone else.

Reality dawned then on Matt, who was thinking more clearly than was currently usual.

That was perhaps the only reason he was still alive...

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