[centre]~|Day 1: 17:37 - Day 2: 01:48 GST|~
~|Aboard the Kaggath, Isolated Cell in Sith Quarters|~[/centre]

Canisha woke very slowly, her ears flicking in an attempt to hear anything around her as the Cathar struggled to rise from the deep level of unconsciousness she had been in. Obviously she had been drugged, as there was a foul taste left in her mouth and her eyes felt like someone has pasted them together.

She flicked an ear again, trying to see if there was any noises whatsoever wherever she was. She was on a floor - cool metal pressed into the bony parts of her hips and shoulders, not even a cushion for her head. There were no sounds of breathing, no shuffles or rustles of cloth against clothes or bodies against furniture. No soft murmurs between people, whether they be friend or foe, nothing. There was only the steady hum that denoted some sort of transportation filling her ears.

The young lion took the chance the solitude presented to her to cast her mind back through her day previously. She had...been awaiting the results of her Knight Trials, which Canisha had only just finished a few moments earlier. She remembered fiddling with her Padawan braid, wondering if today would be the day it would be cut off, and Canisha would become a Knight. She remembered wondering if her Master, Jedi Knight Rena Grandolph, would be proud of her as she paced the halls, anxiously awaiting the verdict.

She remembered a feeling of overwhelming darkness, and instinctively activating her lightsaber as she stepped forward to confront whatever it was that had entered the Temple. She remembered rounding a corner and coming almost face to face with an intimidating red-skinned woman who reeked of the Dark Side. The blast of Force which sent her crashing into a wall, the fear which paralysed her as the woman stalked towards her, the almost [i]tender[/i] caress from the woman - and then being carried away by Sith Troopers as the woman swept away.

She remembered seeing the outside of a ship briefly, before someone hit her hard enough to send her spiralling into unconsciousness, and then nothing until now.

Finally prying her eyes apart, Canisha glanced around the small, well lit room she was in. She was alone, as she expected from the lack of noises around her, in a small room containing nothing more than an uncomfortable looking chair and a small, very basic metal table. It looked more like a storage room than anything to hold a prisoner in, and the girl cocked her head as she sat up. Was she perhaps not a prisoner of the Sith? Had she been rescued while she slept, and placed in whatever spare room her benefactors had?

It took a moment for her legs to work without shaking enough to support her weight, and she pushed herself to her feet quickly. Vertigo hit her for a moment, and Canisha steadied herself on the table as it passed before striding towards the door.

It didn’t open, and despite the young Cathar’s best attempts to put in some sort of code or command to the pad beside it, her slicing skills were obviously not up to snuff to deal with whatever security they had installed and she had nothing to help her.

“I guess I am a prisoner, then.” She murmured to herself. She glanced around the room again with a frown. “But why put me in here? If they’re Sith, then they should have a prison cell - that’s what the Holonet says about bad guys anyway. They always have a dedicated prison cell, especially if they are leading an attack on a peaceful place like the Jedi Temple. Though, if I’m a prisoner of, say, slavers, or a political bargaining piece then it would make sense to shove me in whatever room they have. But taking a Jedi prisoner is a stupid move, and how would slavers defeat a ship full of Sith Troopers and at least one very scary lady? It doesn’t make sense.”

Realising she was rambling to herself, Canisha ran a hand through her hair and decided to occupy herself by looking around the room. It was very bland, the table having been bolted in place to prevent it from sliding around in case of emergencies, and the chair was just as bland as she thought it would be - neither comfortable or uncomfortable, it was just sort of there. Everything was decorated in silver with red highlights, which gave the room a sterile - if slightly evil in Canisha’s opinion, as red and silver were generally seen as Sith colours - feel. 

She soon abandoned her inspection of the table and chair - she was a curious one, but even she couldn’t study the same thing for an hour - and started inspecting the walls, looking closely at every seam in the craftsmanship of the room. She found a camera and spent quite a while staring into it from about twenty centimetres away, wondering if someone was sitting on the other side watching her every move. Were they studying her? Was she some sort of experiment, perhaps on the effects of isolation of a young Cathar? Did they expect her to go crazy?!

She turned her nose up at the camera, incidentally giving anyone watching a perfect view of the inside of her nostril, before turning away. If they wanted to watch, she would let them. Perverts, every last one. 

Having finished her thorough inspection of the room, Canisha plonked herself back onto the floor of the room, ignoring the chair. There really was nothing to do in here, and the boredom grated on the curious Cathar’s nerves a bit. At least when she had been waiting for the results of her Knight Trials, she could pace and look at the amazing architecture of the Jedi Temple to try to assuage her anxiety. Here, there was nothing to look at and if she tried pacing she’d trip over the chair with every circuit!

With nothing else to do, she let herself slip into meditation, reflecting on the day and the Force. Meditation wasn’t her strongest suit though, as it tended to delve into her inner emotions, and the grudge she still held against the Jedi Order for taking her away from her family, for buying her from her mother like a piece of hardware, still lay heavily within her heart. She dropped out of mediation almost as quickly as she entered it, scowling at the memories.

“Kark, is it so hard to put a clock in here!” Canisha burst out suddenly, throwing her hands up and slumping back to lay on the floor once more. The young lion stared at the ceiling for a bit before pushing herself to her feet again, an idea in her head.

Carefully stacking the chair on top of the table to clear what little space she could, Canisha fell into a stance and slowly walked herself through the techniques of Ataru, imagining herself holding her lightsaber as it was conspicuously missing from her belt. She vaguely remembered dropping it when the Scary Sith Lady’s Force attack had cracked her head against the wall, and supposed it must be lying in the rubble of the Temple.

The forms quickly bored her, and she moved from standard Ataru techniques to more acrobatic stuff, such as standing on her hands and resting her feet against the wall behind her. She let out a huff. “Bored now.”

Lifting one hand so she was in a one handed handstand, she extended the claw of her index finger and tried to scratch her name into the wall behind her whilst retaining her upside down position. Her claw barely made a mark in the hardened steel walls, and she pouted. “Well, that’s a waste of a perfectly good wall.”

Swinging down from her upside down position, swaying slightly as the blood rushed away from her head again, she walked over to the door once more and leveled a kick right in the seam. She regretted it immediately, as the door was solid and thick and the dull thump did nothing more than hurt her toes. Cursing and hopping on one foot, she shook a fist at the doorway. “Let me out of here, for frag's sake! Or at least give me something to do!”

There was no answer, of course, and when her toes stopped hurting enough for her to walk on them again she sniffed in imitation of a haughty woman. “Fine. See if I care.”

Canisha turned on her heel and stalked the two steps it took her to reach a corner furthest from the door. She sat down with all the dignity she could muster and curled in upon herself, pulling her robes tighter around her body. “At least turn the lights out so I can go back to sleep.”

She turned her face away from the lights, hiding it in the shadow of her shoulders as she tried to ignore the bland and bright room. Her stomach grumbled and the awful taste left over from whatever drugs they had used on her was only getting worse as thirst set in, and she tried to make herself even smaller. She murmured softly to herself, “Master, I hope you’re okay.”

Eventually sleep claimed her once more, curled up in her corner with her ears flat against her head, trying to ignore the stabs of hunger and dry mouth thirst left her with.