Heat — Roleplayer Guild

~| Day of the Sacking, Day 1, 11:50 GST |~
~|Jakali & Zanna & Jayda|~

Jayda’s eyes had been staring at the Echani since he had fallen. It was ironic to her how his figure looked completely at peace, crumbled against the far wall and slumped over in unconsciousness. She was breathing hard, but not enough to pant in exhaustion. The rapid hearts started to dull and calm once more when the conflict ebbed. Her thumb paused for a moment over her switch while her feet moved carefully toward him. When her body started to bend at the waist, Jayda winched at the pain shooting up her side causing her to grit her teeth tightly and breath in sharply. Her mind taking a moment to dull and fight through it, she crouched downward over the Jedi’s crumbled figure.  

Gently, a surprise to find in a monster like the Jedi deemed the Sith and those who opposed them, her finger lingered over the throat to find the faint pulse. It was bumping steadily. Relieved she hadn’t killed her quarry, her eyes narrowed upon the arm where he was slashed rather well. Blood started to stain his padawan robes as he just laid there, motionless, with the rest of his body scored several times by other numerous wounds. 

Content with her examination, she flickered the lightsaber off. The blade died in an instant.  She reached out and gripped the Jedi’s wrist in her hand, pulling his arm across her shoulder. When he was secure, she forced herself upright again, flinching when her side flared fresh with new agony. Spotting the Jedi’s lightsaber sent flying a bit from his location, she held out her hand and summoned it to her hand then clipped to her belt. 

Her ears heard a sound causing her to jerk her head toward her right. 

Zanna walked carefully back to the ships, where the Jedi were supposed to be dropped off, the Twi’lek padawan floating in the air in front of her. While she was fairly certain that there were no more Jedi hiding amongst the rubble of their home, she wasn’t taking any chances. “Everyone has to go to the temple to capture Jedi, even if you’re terrible at combat. Doesn’t matter if that increases your chances of dying by three trillion.” She muttered under her breath, nervously tugging on her face tentacles. She didn’t feel comfortable here, where someone could easily murder her with one simple lightsaber attack. She had gotten lucky that this was merely a padawan and she knew it. A real knight would have eliminated her without the faintest bit of effort on their part. 

As she finally entered the area where the prisoner ship was, she noticed two more Sith. One was a Zabrak, carrying  seemingly another human Jedi, the other was a human carrying another human. Zanna merely noted with disapproval the missing hand. The recently missing hand. “Is it so hard to not damage the prisoners?” She asked.

“She tried to put up a fight, and she didn’t succeed. Your prisoner looks like she let you take her away without even asking you not to do it.” Jakali said back, a grin on his face, the grown woman he had managed to capture hoisted over his shoulders. He would have liked to avoid taking one of her hands off, but he had to make a quick decision. She was still alive, albeit occasionally grunting in pain. 

“And besides, it is a hand, not like she lost an entire limb.” He added, not saying to anyone in particular. Though his eyes lingered on Zanna for a moment, the hatred he still held for her briefly boiling up, it would have been so easily to strike her down then and there, but the time wasn’t right. It also might have given the wrong message to the prisoners if they saw Sith murdering each other right in front of their eyes. 

“You really think now is the time to squabble?” Jayda spoke, her voice slightly strained from the wound and her own burden to bare. She adjusted again and shifted the Jedi higher up on her shoulders where he laid across. Sadly, she couldn’t stop her one side from slouching so to ease up pressure on her other side, the one where the wound laid. Slowly she started to walk back the direction she had arrived from though she was sure the trip would take longer at her slower pace. 

“The Jedi could still be around and if they hear it, it’s likely they will engage us. I don’t want to worry about my back getting slashed because you were too busy arguing to give a gunsos not to get killed.” 

Inside, Jayda’s slip into her native language made her realize she was rattled. Mostly because she had gotten sloppy and unless she could hide it from Sish, he wouldn’t like that one bit. That meant new scars later for allowing weakness to show. She inhaled, breathing through the hurt, while listening to the other two and her surroundings. 

“Not a squabble, just a conversation. She asked a question, I gave an answer then made an observation.” Jakali said, glancing Jayda as she walked, struggling to move from her injury which the Sith was curious of how she acquired it. Perhaps a Jedi injured her? He followed her, eventually catching up with the hobbled apprentice enough to walk alongside her, his prisoner still straddled on his shoulders.

“No need to worry. Jedi are never the aggressors, and those that are are the ones we want. If any of them tried anything then they’d quickly realized just how outmatched they were,” Jakali said, looking at her as he spoke. “And besides, it would be criminal for me to allow them hurt someone like yourself.” Speaking in his most charming tone of voice, remembering she was an apprentice, a swayable one possibly if he played his cards right.

“I’ve heard of your master's methods, I don’t believe that he would appreciate your current well being either, he’d make it even worse, and that’s quite shameful.” He added, shaking his head, the thought of a master beating their apprentice reminding him of his own past.

“Strange for a Sith not to think of his own goals and instead, showing concern for others. Isn’t compassion what Jedi are known for after all?” Jayda commented, her head turned and raised an eyebrow at the Sith. He was handsome in his own way but she knew, deep down, he was likely to be like most others. His goals came first and his show of kindness set off her instincts, causing her body to briefly tense. It didn’t help she hadn’t any interaction with other Apprentices since becoming Sish’s only four months prior and this made her very new to this game. A disadvantage that could end up costing her more than her pride in the end. 

She could’ve relaxed if the man had self motives, greed or lust, behind his comment, but his comment made no such hint. When mentioned Sish, though not by name, her lips curled up into a snarl and bore a fanged tooth. “I got sloppy and it will never happened again. I’ve survived worse at his claws, namely in the last eight years, so the pain will not be new.” 

“Perhaps it is compassion, perhaps it is empathy.” Jakali said, having paid careful attention to Jayda as she spoke, his eyes noticing how she reacted when her master was mentioned. 

“I got sloppy too, once. But I survived. ” He added, then scratched his chin with his robotic limb, the one that had been taken from him so many years ago. It was odd how similarly Jayda’s treatment under her master was to his, he almost felt bad for her, and he wondered too if Sish would go far enough to actually remove her limb for failure. 

Jayda noticed the robotic arm, her eyes narrowed her focus and settled for several moments on it. “Is that how you lost your arm? Due to failure and sloppiness?” 

Her tone, unlike in the past would hold sympathy, was indifferent to his absent limb. Sish had broken bones, maimed her identity as a Zabrak and worse, but she knew deep inside he would never severe a limb. It would cripple her too much for his liking and defeat his objective to making her stronger. After all, if she couldn’t beat, than what was the point of being his apprentice? 

The thought lingered on her mind and her feet stirred into a slightly faster pace, thinking running from the truth was possible. 

Zanna simply shrugged indifferently in response to Jakali’s barb, content to let him believe what he will. Assumptions will get you killed.. She thought idly, noticing his brief hatred. Control is good. And dangerous. She kept quiet, still carrying her Twi’lek through the Force, as Jakali tried and failed to get on the good side of the Zabrak. Something to note. She’s as wary as I am, though far less subtle about it.

 Before Zanna could make any comment of her own, Jakali’s prisoner spoke up. *“Tze’tlesu ayt ido yol kasluat. Shuree terli besin uael ido ul’don cuf ido ah’n kep’le minta.” She laughed, a humorless sound, before continuing in Ul’Zabrak. ”I couldn’t fight and he knew it. He just couldn't take taunting, because he's a little bitch. He even sounds like one, trying to sidle up to you. Do me a favor and stab him in the face?”

Jayda's eyes shifted towards the Jedi, her face not amused, as she replied in basic. "Brave words for being carried by your captor and already injured, Jedi. Let's hope he doesn't understand Ul'Zabrak else he might deem it suitable to take a finger or worse for punishment." 

Nazca snorted. And then make me useless for your torture and conversion? I don’t think so. Besides, he’s too stupid to understand it. Isn’t that right you big dumb shit eating whore? Nazca spoke to Jakali, smirking. For all her brave words, Nazca looked terrible. Her eyes were lackluster, the pupil’s dialted, she was shivering  despite being covered in sweat and looked deathly pale, her breathing rapid and shallow.

"You're assuming physical torture is the only meaningful sort. Mental and emotion doesn't require you to be in one piece after all." Jayda countered, her arm slipping around the Echani giving and was forced to push him upward again. Her teeth gritted and let out a small hiss of pain, sharply inhaling to push through it. "Besides, you won't be alone in your misery." 

And make me an insane vegetable unsuitable to tell info and conversion? Doubt it.   Nazca smiled nastily as she heard Jayda’s hiss of pain. “Aww, did the jedi give you a boo boo? Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s only a sign of your weakness and all your lovely friends, dumb shit with the robot had here and the red whore over there, will stab you in the back as soon as they’re able. And the face. And the chest. And the arm. You’re going to regret not doing me that favor, mark my words.” Nazca gave a mocking laugh at the last sentence. ”Oh joy, I just love knowing that all these innocent, young, padawans are getting tortured along with me! Thanks for that piece of comfort you bitch.

Jayda didn't retort. Instead she ignored the filthy mouthed human and focused on the Sith carrying her, "Seems she thinks highly of you. You should've just knocked her out or severed more than a wrist, though it might not matter. She could die from the shock along before we arrive." 

Nazca narrowed her eyes in the general direction of Jayda’s voice, slung over her captor’s shoulder as she was. “**Shuree Fro'Jeff res'Sharen fro'dyne ayure? Gin tze’onore sharee.” Nazca spat on the ground, and continued.  ”You’re no better than your master, are you? You get pleasure from torturing those weaker than you, don’t you? You’re nothing. A whore. A slut. How often do you go down on your master? Daily? Hourly when you can? You’re nothing more than some Sith’s bitch, pretending to be a warrior with some shred of honor left.”

It wasn’t the insult to her honor or whorish comments that finally snapped her placid behavior. It was the comparison to Sish that managed to strike the spark in her hatred as she stopped dead in her tracks abruptly, letting Jakali’s walk continue and bring her face to face with the Jedi. all the zabrak could see was the dark, reddish hair in a short cut. 

Jayda’s hand strike out like a snake before either of the other two could stop her. It gripped the woman’s jaw line and ripped her face upwards, facing the growling Sith baring her fangs in a primal snarl. Her eyes laced with fury and utter hatred. The emotion seeming to spill from her facial expression, heating the air around her, as she was ready to keep pace with the man should he not stop. 

“You never compare me to that monster again.” Jayda’s tone was icy and firm, her patience close to shattering. Her nails bit into the flesh, drawing blood and tightening with each word. It seemed that she was ready to rip the force user’s jawline right off while she rattled off her warning in Ul’Zabrak. “Geti shuree meni’hime  sharee yide sharee’i joku’le, ni shar meni’fro'tlesu nit rebut sharee shar….” 

With that, Jayda made her vice grip firmer briefly and released. The little indentations began to drip blood down the curves of her cheeks when the Zabrak pulled her gaze away, her body moving away to let the sith walk away. She hoped the message was gotten this time. 

Zanna didn’t say anything, merely watching carefully, storing away what she had learned here and ready to stop the Zabrak from killing the mouthy prisoner. 

Nazca’s eyes were very wide, and she didn’t move a muscle as Jayda spoke, painfully forcing the criminal to look at her. When she was finally let go, Nazca’s hand went to her fresh wounds, and she simply stared at the blood on her fingers for a moment before adding one final comment. It was spoken quietly, with none of the flamboyant, brash, yelling before.

“****Jeful, jendoslu, slaret coila slaret.”

Jakali did not understand a word that was being said from the prisoner he was lugging around. He could tell it was another language, likely the Zabrak’s, judging by Jayda’s reactions. He did not stop her and simply stayed silent, not even showing any emotion on his face as he waited for a moment where he could speak a few words.

“You hold much anger and hate, Jedi. You sound just like a stereotypical Sith. Though if you were one, you’d be one of the weak ones that gets snuffed out in the blink of an eye.” Jakali said, his voice and figure calm, though his next move was not as he stopped in his tracks, twisting the injured Jedi on his shoulder towards the ground, planting her back down on the hard floor.

“Her words are just weak threats with nothing to back them up. I could have taken off her whole arm, but that might have been too much.” He added as he glanced at Nazca, then unholstered his lightsaber but did not ignite it, he simply wacked the Jedi right on her left temple with the metal handle, enough to knock her out.

“You need to know when something is too much.” He said, holstering his weapon and hoisting the captive back over his shoulders.

“What exactly did she say to you?” He asked Jayda, genuinely curious.

Jayda was quiet. Her body stopped, curiosity mostly, at what the man was planning on doing as she watched him finally knock the crude female out. She couldn’t help but wonder the reason yet wisely mentioned nothing of it in her next words. “Between the basic and Zabrak, I thought it was obvious she was provoking me. Her words to me were mild compared to yours and only one I considered worthy of aggression. Called me several unpleasant names and the last part was something I refuse to be compared to. She’s lucky. If she had met me during Sish’s trials, then I would’ve killed her in my hatred.” 

She was calm again when she spoke, partly grateful Sish wasn’t there.     

“It was your master she compared you to, was it not?” Jakali asked, almost certain that he was correct. “If it was, then you are not like him. He would have killed the Jedi in an utterly barbaric fashion in his rage, you showed restraint, that is not something he would have done.” 

“You’ve not seen me at my worse.” Jayda said bitterly, leaving the answer vague as her mind filled with memories. Most dominant was the screams of men, women, and children who she murdered out of mercy because she wasn’t strong enough. Her eyes shifted down to her claws, the very one that ended those foolish enough to believe they weren’t harboring a monster in their midst. She could relive the light dying from their eyes and the zabrak child’s painful expression while she slowly choked the life out of her. Jayda shuddered, letting her hand fall back to her side where she briefly wiped away the blood on her trousers. “As for restraint when it comes to Sish… if he didn’t, I wouldn’t have been alive today.”    

“Strength comes from many places. For your master, it seems it comes from complete lack of control. His emotions are a storm, powerful, but undirected  and eventually coming to an end. For others, they bottle their emotions, waiting to direct the power they give them. You bottle your emotions, waiting for the right time to use them. Especially your hatred for your master. You may hate your master, but you can’t deny he’s given you the tools to survive. Albeit in a savage manner. Otherwise, like you said, you’d be dead.” Zanna nodded towards Jayda’s outfit. “You were one of the ones on the frontlines, weren’t you? Very few apprentices could have survived that, running into the teeth of the Jedi and all their guards. From the sounds of it some of the Sith, hand picked by Darth Malgus, didn’t either. That’s an accomplishment, something to remember. 

“As for your worst..” Zanna shrugged. “Everyone has their worst moments. It’s part of becoming a Sith. You do things the Jedi would have long ago put themselves in exile or killed themselves for, and then you move on. Because you’re stronger.”

“She is correct. You are strong, we are all stronger than those fools.” Jakali said, nudging towards the unconscious Jedi on his shoulder, then he glanced towards Zanna, locking eyes with her for a moment as he continued forward towards the shuttles.

“I didn’t expect something like that from you after that comment from before, truthfully. Appears I was wrong. I may have misjudged someone so beautiful.” He blurted out, his tone with a hint of playfulness to it.

Zanna opened her mouth to give a reply, then Jakali finished his sentence her mouth snapped shut in surprise, her eyes a bit wider than before. Is he..flirting with me? Despite her best efforts, she could feel a blush( the Red Sith equivalent at least) on her face. She jerked her eyes away from his, muttering. “I just don’t like potential converts being ruined before we have a chance, or people being bitter about things that make them strong. The road may be hard, but the end result is well worth it.” She sped up her pace, passing the human quickly, before things could be made worse.

Jayda rolled her eyes at the flirting occurring though she pondered a bit on Zanna’s and Jakali’s words. It was hard to believe they understood anything at all about her. To her, this was survival and it just happened the strong survived it. If it had been different, if she never met Sish, then everything would’ve been different. Her eyes stared ahead as they drew closer, their trip coming to a end when the scene of chaos and war filled the scene toward the shuttle. Already several Sith were bring back their prizes, delivering them into the ship and going back out for more. 

Her eyes caught Sish’s figure already exiting the ship. Immediately she tried to hide the wound on her side and her favoring her other side, straightening her spine with a sharp breath. Her hands tightened to bite off the desire to slip back into a more comfortable gait while she held her prisoner on her shoulders steadily.    

*Don’t listen to this whore. I put up about as much fight as a baby beast.*

**I thought Zabraks had honor? There is no honor in you.

 ***Now, I suggest you hold your tongue or it will now cost you it!   
****Remember, bitch, blood for blood.

Doctor Cason sat quietly in a corner table in the cafeteria, a tasty green salad in front of him, his fork stuck into a piece of lettuce which he scooped into his mouth as his glasses covered eyes read the book in front of him, next to his meal. He didn't need the glasses, his vision was perfect but he always noticed that patients liked their doctors to be bespectacled, helped reinforce the smart doctor stereotype, which he didn't contend when it was about him. 

He chewed the food in his mouth as he finished a page, turning to the next one, yes it was an actual book, not a datapad, he liked (very) old fashioned books more, felt more natural to him. He was dressed more casual than usual, no doctor's jacket, rolled up sleeves, a looser tie on a grey dress shirt, his eyes more tired than usual as well. Ever since the captain's disappearance he hadn't slept much.

The worst part of it was that the good doctor was pretty useless when it came to the disappearance. Until they found the captain's body then all old Roy could do was sit and wait, like all of the others on the ship. Just left with a mysterious video message. A part of him knew that would end being a bad thing though, mysteries were often not a fun topic. All he could do was keep the people in the medical department that he was in charge of calm.

If anyone actually managed to get hurt then one of his subordinates would have messaged him about it. But it seemed be a boring moment on the ship, just with an aura of confusion over the missing leader. If many more people disappeared then he would have ended up on top thanks to the chain of command, it wasn't something he liked, he was better off just being the medical chief, the crew was better off with it being that way too. So all the doctor did was continue his meal in silence.

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