Residuum

[Darth Anxia]

The mask pulled away from her face wet. Anxia knew that her nose had started bleeding at some point during the second round of her fight against Baska, internalized as it was, she had fought no less hard. Bursting vessels with her resistance for as long as she had been able.

It was a matter of good fortune that had kept her on her feet, as the forces binding her had dissolved. Clutching tightly at her master Anxia trembled, the sort of uncontrolled shuddering of a child that had just spent itself in a fit. "Get her out..please. Please?"

Not one to beg, Anxia didn't care anymore if it made her weak. She could not drive the remains of Baska's handiwork from her own mind and she just wanted it gone. This was not something that she could correct herself. A Sith Master had done this to her, and it would take another to undo the damage.

[Darth Callidus]

“We can do it together. Help me.”

Callidus pressed the heel of his palm to Anxia’s forehead, claws sifting into her sweat-damp hair. Once again, his mind quested out to touch hers, the Force connecting their two consciousnesses together. Just as the Dark Side had banished the fear from the Sith Lord’s mind, the same power - drawn from master and apprentice alike - would clear away the miasma within Anxia.

"Let your hatred burn her influence away."

[Darth Anxia]

All to happy to obey this command, Anxia had no trouble touching upon hate. She'd spent the last hour dwelling in swamp of self loathing, frustration and fury. Focusing on the place where her master's hand touched her brow, she let him show her how. She did not close her eyes, but instead kept them on his, keeping her grounded. Within the span of a few more shaky breaths she was able to stop resisting, to let him back into the places in her mind that had been filled with torment. It was hard, so hard.. Each painful conclusion she had come to, every suspicion and doubt laid bare. Every time her instinct was to back away, she forced herself to get mad that this had been so easily done to her, trusting in her own mind.

It did not take long for her to feel a difference. It started when she questioned her own sanity. What the hell was she thinking?

The feeling, not only of her master's presence passing through her, but also of her own will returning, was such a relief that she could not stop the tears that trickled from her eyes like diamonds spilling down her dirty face.

Drooping forward, her head rested against his chest, her voice breaking finally. "Forgive me."

[Darth Callidus]

As Anxia’s head fell against his chest, the last of his mask evaporated, revealing the face of Salem Ave. Something like a smile passed, fleeting, over his face. It had been a gamble, to pit Anxia against Baska, but one that had paid off. Callidus did not know the full extent of Baska’s power, but observing her fight had given him a better idea. She had confirmed some of his suspicions and in the process, had highlighted where his own apprentice was lacking. Anxia had suffered, but her pain was not without purpose. Holding her in his arms, he knew that her dedication to the Dark Side and to him was as unwavering as it had ever been.

“Learn from this and become stronger.”

[Darth Anxia]

Anxia's nod was barely even that. "Yes." She would do as he commanded. That's what she did. She would be better prepared, next time..

She felt better, but not at all well. It was going to take some time for normalcy to return. Her thoughts still spun chaotically from the fight, to the aftermath of it. At least now she was grounded enough to separate truth from madness, it had been a close thing. She didn't want to let go of her master either, he was the tether that had pulled her back from the brink.

When she was able to lift her head, her expression remained abashed. One gloved hand wiped at her face, coming away sticky.

Razielle shook her head, slowly still.. "Well, that's just perfect."

[Darth Callidus]

With a light touch, Callidus lifted Anxia’s bloodied chin. His eyes narrowed as he inspected her face.

“When I was younger... I could have healed you.”

Out of curiosity, Callidus reached for the Force that had been his to command as a Jedi, the so-called Light Side. Young Salemescro had never been destined for the Circle of Healers or the Medical Corps. He had been a passable healer at best and liable to leave scars behind, more often than not on himself. He’d lacked finesse, and now... he felt nothing of that part of the Force, only an emptiness where the connection once was.

His lips pressed into a thin line, faintly disappointed in his own limitations.

“There are some medical supplies in the cockpit. I'll get you cleaned up.”

[Darth Anxia]

Among the last things she would ever desire was to be a Sith apprentice, so beaten, so invalid that her master had to stop and tend to her. It was enough to make her grit her teeth, still agitated at her defeat. It was not a position she had ever found herself in before, and would not care to repeat. But the fight had gone out of her some time ago, Darth Anxia could feel about, and deal with, the situation however she liked.

Razielle, however had no problem putting herself in her husband's clawed hands.

While she waited for Salem to come back, she pulled the cowl from around her neck, dropping it to the floor with her mask. She had spent years bitching about the cage she was in, but right now she would happily beg prettily for the bathing pool in the Royal Bedchambers, heated to steaming levels to ease the aches in her body.

[Salem Ave]

When he returned, Salem's hood was thrown back. Aside from a ruffle to his dark brown hair, he looked otherwise composed. In one hand, he had a small medical kit, already opened.

“Sit down,” he said, with a nod to the cabin’s sole couch. Ordinarily, the ambassadorial shuttle would have carried esteemed dignitaries and guests, so the furnishings were quite luxurious, though nothing in comparison to the opulence of the palace that they were returning to. Stood over his apprentice, Salem bit into the corner of a packet of bacta patches and tore it open with his teeth.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

[Razielle Alastor]

Razielle did as instructed, sinking back to the couch where she had been to begin with since leaving the Cauldron behind. Only now she was conscious of what was going on around her in a way she had not been before. The leather beneath her was soft, cradling her as she sat, hands at her sides.

"She was very impressive.", Razielle said quietly after a moment.

There was no point in not answering. She had given her mind over to him long ago, and there was simply no point in hiding anything from him, and would not want to.

[Salem Ave]

Salem sat down beside Razielle, and began to carefully clean the blood from her cheeks and chin. “She is. Her power is the culmination of years of training.”

Setting aside a now blood-stained cloth, the Arkanian considered his next words while he inspected Razielle’s face, to see where healing gel might be well placed.

“There is a lot you could learn from her.”

[Razielle Alastor]

It was true. It had been one of the first things to come to her mind during their fight. She had pushed the thought down, to be reexamined later, but yes..at first Razielle had been very curious about the other Sith. So many questions had come to mind in so few seconds. Baska was a complex and formidable warrior, worthy of acknowledgment. But Razielle was mad as hell about her leftovers.. Whether the woman was inclined to share such contrivances remained to be seen. If such knowledge was offered, Razielle would be a fool to decline it.

"There was something there.."

Razielle dabbed at her nose again, relieved to find the bleeding stopped. The rest of her was doubtless banged up, but she'd live. She felt like a piece of rock had gone through her armor and may still be there, jabbing her in the ribs. But it had not all been for nothing..

"Something in her past. She's had to have known that sort of pain, to do that.."

[Salem Ave]

“Perhaps.”

Salem sat back, observing as Razielle she dabbled blood from her face.

“When we were young, the galaxy could be a... cruel, painful place. Baska did not begin her training as I did, but the fall of the Republic created an environment that… bred malice and misery.”

[Razielle Alastor]

"Mmm.. of course."

Her life had been relatively untouched by the misfortune of those days. As a princess, Razielle had been raised educated about current events, but otherwise sheltered from them. Also she had been much younger. The best she had was the sympathy of someone who was aware how the time had shaped those closet to her, and the rest she would only ever experience through times like this. When Salem spoke about it, and she could almost feel it through her connection to him.

"Maybe..", she had to allow. "..but it felt..personal. She wanted me to swallow a spoonful of whatever torments her."

Looking down, Razielle ran her fingers over the armor covering her ribs, looking for where something had gotten through, but found nothing. Fully expecting to have found a nice piece of arena rubble sticking out of her, she just looked puzzled.

"Perhaps in time.. I'll find out what it was.", she looked back up to Salem.

[Salem Ave]

“I know that she was a bounty hunter before embracing the Force, and that she took the life of her own master. The source of her pain may be these parts of her life, or something else entirely.”

It was not difficult to imagine a hundred or more ways that Baska had been wounded by the Galaxy. Though they had lived very different childhoods, by the time their paths had crossed the two of them had learned how to turn their suffering into strength.

It was possible that Baska’s tactics had been deliberate, a way to show Salem how easily she could unravel his apprentice, either turning her against him or rendering her a quivering mess. Whatever her motivations, she had been successful at upsetting the equilibrium.

As Razielle felt for some phantom injury on her torso, Salem asked, “Is there anywhere else you’re hurt?”

[Razielle Alastor]

Razielle considered what she had just learned about Baska. Before the Force, a bounty hunter. Which meant she had no qualms about hunting a person and then hauling them dead or alive to get what she wanted. The fact that she had grown strong enough to kill the one who had trained her was also very impressive.

She considered where else she might be injured, stretching for a moment, extending her booted legs. The only place that pained her was her side. "Maybe.."

Sitting up, nimble fingers released the armor from her chest and she slid out from it with a wince. Beneath she wore a thin black, long-sleeved shirt. Under the fabric, she was sore but not convinced anything was broken. She pulled up the material and leaned to the side. "Is it bad?"

[Salem Ave]

With the bacta salve set aside for now, Salem touched the area Razielle had exposed, holding her shirt aside with his other hand. Her bruises were already showing, though it was unlikely that she had any breaks to go with them. Still, there could be something small wrong, something that could go unnoticed. As he reached for the Force, to have some sense of any hidden injuries she had, Salem brushed his clawtips carefully down her side, following the curve of her ribcage.

“No,” he said, thoughtful, his hand stilling at her hip. “Quite the opposite.”

[Razielle Alastor]

There was no stopping the goosebumps that were sprinkled across her pale, bruising ribs at his touch. It did not tickle though, not at all. Looking down to the place where his claws, and the Force had just traveled, Razielle saw nothing, apart from the expected bruises. They were easily accepted, it could have been far worse, defenseless as she had been at the end. But she saw nothing that she would deem good either.

Maybe.. it was not about what she could see.

Razielle's hand closed over Salem's claws where they rested at her hip. She tried to follow the same path he had, searching herself for damage. Starting with the obvious, feeling for any damage near her heart or lungs. All she could feel was the steady flow of her own untroubled breaths, the uncompromised steady beating of her heart. The pumping of blood through her body and..

Her free hand flew to her abdomen, something was definitely there. Something that was beating even faster than her, despite being smaller now than many of the jewels she owned. Her shocked gaze flew to his, having had no idea.

[Salem Ave]

“You felt nothing?”

Salem met Razielle’s stunned expression with an arched eyebrow. He placed his hand over hers and felt the faintest impression of life within.

“How strong you are.”

[Razielle Alastor]

"I do not feel strong, not right now..", she admitted.

Whetstone to sharpen her or not, Baska had defeated her. Broken her mind for a time, to the point that it felt like her brain had been on the verge of melting. Put doubts in places where none had existed. Even now that it was over, she could still feel it.

And now Razielle knew the truth concealed beneath her flesh, she was going to bear him another child. Her touch on her abdomen clutched tighter at her flat belly, possessively. Well, that sealed it. She was just going to have to grow stronger, there was no other choice.

"I have to meet with her again."

[Salem Ave]

“You will.. in time.”

Salem knew how to contact Baska and he was fairly certain that she would find an invitation to the Cluster an appealing proposal. For now, however, his focus was not on the woman who had bested Razielle, but on Razielle herself. He cupped a hand to her cheek and, with the other, squeezed the hand she was defensively holding to her abdomen.

“You have nothing to fear.”