[center]~| Day 1, 12:42-20:49 GST |~
~| In orbit above Korriban |~[/center]

Though it would have been easier to refit a Harrower on a planet, the stress of taking such a ship down onto a planet’s surface and then back up was simply too much. It was technically feasible to build capital ships able to endure the stress, but it wasn’t worth it. Orbital reentry was a feature unneeded. Thus the only option for refitting one was an orbital dry dock. The work could not be done as quickly, but there was no hurry, Miasa Trentax knew. Her old master had not expressed a need for the ship soon. She stood upon the observation bridge of the dry dock, smiling at the progress the slaves were making on the refits. Everything was going according to schedule. Her schedule. 

of plates of the finest durasteel were being welded onto the hull, more than doubling the strength of its armor. No expense would be spared for this ship. Deep within its core, Miasa knew that the new hyperdrive thrummed, ready to propel it anywhere in the Empire and the hated republic alike. It was a veritable work of art, more powerful than any other hyperdrive she had ever seen. It was a true joy to work on a budget like this, with no expenses spared. Even at this distance, she could bask in the power of the dark side emanating from the ship. Over the past two months, hundreds of components had been imbued with the power of the Force. Once finished, this ship would be a flagship truly worthy of a powerful Sith like Darth Nyiss.

Behind her, she heard the chime of the holographic terminal. She didn’t even need to look at the naval officers clustered upon the observation bridge for them to know they should leave. There was only one who would contact her on this particular terminal. She coiled her tail beneath her torso and bowed respectfully as she triggered the button to answer the call with the Force.

“What is thy bidding, my master?” She said the moment the holographic image of Darth Nyiss stabilized, deep respect resonating through her voice.

“I have need of your presence, and your expertise.” Nyiss said in such a way as to indicate she was not to be argued with. “Your work on the Harrower will have to wait, that goal is superseded by the needs of the present. You will take a shuttle and meet me onboard the Kaggath at these coordinates. On the way, you are to construct for me an alchemically imbued robotic hand with these specifications.”

“It shall be done, Master. I will make haste and take the first shuttle.” Miasa answered, bowing her head respectfully. The hologram fizzed out and she retrieved the attached data file, memorizing its contents quickly, then uncoiling herself and leaving the observation deck. She had work to do. Much work. Very little time. She did not like it that way, but she knew better than to disobey.

Despite the clear indication from her master that she had better be there soon, Miasa saw no reason to hurry. Nothing should ever be done in haste. In all her years since first being forced to enter Nyiss’ service, she had most certainly learned that lesson. Nonetheless, she had fully packed all she thought she needed and then some before half an hour had even passed. Thankfully the shuttle’s hyperdrive was already modified, so travel time would not be too long. 

Her assistants, while not her, would still do a good job with the continued refits. She slithered aboard the shuttle alone, not bringing anyone else with her. It was after all bad enough that she would not be directly in charge of the refits. She could not take away anyone else as well. Not that she needed anyone else in any case. The autopilot would be more than sufficient once the ship entered hyperspace, something she did less than a minute after exiting the hangar of the dry dock.

The rear compartment of the shuttle bore very little resemblance to the transport it had used to be. Crates of components were stacked everywhere. At the center, a large worktable stood, riddled with tools and half-finished projects she had not gotten around to completing. She pulled a large, empty crate over to the short end of the table, then shoved all the half-finished projects into it. They were irrelevant. If she needed them later, she could dig them out.

Once the table was clean, she brought online the holographic projector and started designing the robotic hand. “It is remarkable” she muttered, thinking how how the Darth normally viewed artificial limbs with abhorrence. Still, this gave her something to do in the long journey to the rendezvous location, so she would not complain.

The first step, of course, was designing a rough idea of the hand size and shape. She thought about making one with sharp spikes everywhere, but found the idea distasteful. Seeing how it was to be imbued with the Dark Side, she had a suspicion that it was meant to be for a prisoner. Her master would not bother demanding such for a mere lackey like most the other Sith were. Considering the provided dimensions, the subject was most likely female, but it was impossible to say which female among the prisoners it was. Not that it mattered. Several of them were roughly the same height and build.

She thought about the number of fingers to build. Three would be easiest, but that wasn’t much fun. Such a hand would be imprecise, barely able to use basic motor skills. Four would be more precise, with the added bonus of more closely resembling the Red Sith of old. But it would probably be best to go with the classic five. Not to mention, it would be more challenging.

Miasa smiled to herself. She liked a proper challenge. The basic framework was easy enough to design. She’d brought plenty of components for robotic limbs with her. She scrounged about in various crates, digging out fitting pieces, then placed them on the table, ready for assembly. Once she had the basic framework ready, she put it to the side, pulling open a few crates with alchemical compounds. A bit of this, a bit of that, all poured into a small transparisteel container, and she had a pale lavender semi-transparent fluid. With great care not to spill a single drop, she gently lowered the hand frame into it until it was fully submerged, being extra careful not to get any on her hands as she did. Then, after attaching a lid, she placed it on the floor in the middle of the ritual sigil upon the floor, then spread her tail exactly as she had done thousands of times before, encircling the object. Only then did she start her meditations, focusing her anger, her hatred and her fury all upon the pale lavender fluid. For the next hour, nothing seemed to happen, but she kept at it, knowing that appearances were deceiving. After an hour and a half, the fluid changed color, taking on a deep purple hue. For good measure, she sent a burst of lightning at the box, smiling as the energy flowed over the box and eventually got absorbed. The frame was ready.

It was only then she began the second stage of the construction. She poured the fluid over into another container, not intending to let it go to waste. The once-silvery gray metal of the frame was now faintly tinged with a deep blue color and gleamed in an unusual fashion. There was just a hint of darkness to it. Miasa proceeded to attach the next level of growth to it. From being a skeletal frame like found on the most basic of protocol droids, it soon looked more and more like a proper hand. She spent a full hour engraving the surface with the seemings of human skin patterns, giving it a remarkably lifelike texture. As per her master’s instructions, she installed the unusual functions into it, but made sure to keep them concealed within its shell, also as the instructions had specified.

After that, she put it back into the now-dark purple fluid, then meditated upon it for another full hour and a half, this time feeding it with patience, ruthlessness and mental fortitude. Not exactly emotions common in the stereotypical Sith, but necessary qualities for those who wished to survive. After this, the fluid had taken on a deep crimson color, almost like human blood. The hand was almost complete. The black metal of the outer shell had taken on a pale reflection of the crimson fluid, making the hand look almost human. She coated it in a thin layer of transparent material, smiling a little at how lifelike it looked. Using a few of the tools, she connected it to a computer, installing the software necessary to make it function and running a full battery of tests upon it. Other than the vicious-looking jaws at the wrist end of the hand, designed to fuse it to the wrist bones of its recipient, the hand looked almost human. Even at a distance, she could sense the faint hint of the dark side permeating its inner workings as the computer ran it through the motions of activity. All she now needed to do, was make sure it was fully operational. She carefully adjusted the nerve tendrils within, realigning them so that they should better match those of a human woman. Though robotic and mostly crafted from metal, this hand looked almost lifelike. There was just something on the side of it that gave a hint as to its artificial origins. A few lines that were off, the lack of the random texture and minuscule hairs those humans had upon their limbs.

She knew without a doubt that once attached, its owner would not readily want to detach it. She’d had the software designed to make removal extremely painful. If anything, the idea of removing it should hurt. But for all she had done, she knew such an artifact could never on its own turn a Jedi to the Dark Side where they belonged. If technology could do that, the war would already have been won. All it might do, she thought, was make someone just a hint more susceptible. And of course it would allow them to focus the energy of the Dark side in new ways. Not the way the lost hand would have been able to, but far better than a mere prosthesis could ever allow.

After cleaning up the materials she no longer needed, Miasa gently placed the construct into a small box and returned to the cockpit, where she coiled herself up and started meditating. While it had not been a quick thing to construct, it had not taken the whole duration of the journey. Only a good while later did she stop meditating, when the computer indicated that she was nearing the destination. The ship exited hyperspace, but the Kaggath had not yet arrived. Apparently she was early. Pressing a single button, she activated and dumped out the the medium-range beacon whose signal the Kaggath would know to home in on, then she went back to mediating. The ship would arrive when it arrived. She could wait.