Residuum

[Darth Anxia]

The 360-degree views from the Express-class ambassadorial shuttle were utterly wasted on one of the occupants.

Violet eyes moved occasionally, darting from one side to the other, in time with something going on in her head. It had been some time since leaving Rattatak (https://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?57742-Residuum&p=1063906#post1063906) behind, yet the only speaking that she had done had been one word answers. Even those had taken great effort. She had not removed a single piece of her armor, which was still covered in sand and dust from her test. Not even the mask covering her face had been removed, which typically should have been the first thing to go. Her gloved hands still gripped her sword, fingers tapping against the pommel in a twitchy, uncontrolled manner.

The external evidence was nothing compared to what was actually going on inside her head.

Something had happened to her in that fighting pit. For the first time in her life, someone other than Salem had gotten inside her head. It had not been something she had wanted. She had fought as hard against it as she was able, until eventually..

She had lost.

Her eyes widened, swinging to the right in paranoia, fingers gripping her sword.

Her throat felt as dry and parched as the grounds of the Cauldron. She could smell, and taste blood inside her mask, and still she did not move. Though she did shake her head, a silent denial of whatever was on her mind..

[Darth Callidus]

With a burst of light, the Express-class shuttle jumped to hyperspace and at the touch of a button from the pilot, the panoramic viewport began to darken, obscuring the hypnotic vortex of light that stretched infinitely around the ship. A quick series of commands set the vessel into autopilot and the pilot rose from his chair, emerging from the small cockpit into the passengers lounge with a dark cloak still draped around his shoulders. Unlike his apprentice, Darth Callidus wore no mask. His white eyes narrowed, dark brows knitting in faint confusion or concern, as he watched his student flinching at thin air.

“Anxia… where are you?"

[Darth Anxia]

It was not like her to question the nature of her life. Once, long ago, there had been a choice to be made and she had made it without hesitation. From that day until this, she had never really questioned anything. To be sure, she'd been very vocal about her displeasure about being left behind in the Fountain Palace when she wanted to be out taking a more active part in the shaping of her own life. It was the one thing she had always rebelled against and... he had done that to her, and she had gone along with it. Why? Because someday this, someday that.

What use was a sword left to rust? In her hands, her own weapon also seethed, denied it's bloody prize because of it's owners complete incompetence.

Anxia twitched, and heard her name. Dragging her eyes up from the floor, she met her master's white ones.. and instantly recoiled. Sword still in hand, she scrambled to her feet and backed up slowly, feeling attacked from within by whatever the other Sith had done to her, a suspicion in her eyes that had not been there before.

[Darth Callidus]

Callidus took a step forward, and his apprentice shrank further away from him.

“Give me your sword, Anxia,” he said, holding out one hand.

[Darth Anxia]

Her right hand rotated, gripping tighter, her eyes glancing down to the blade he wanted. Why did he want it?

Swinging back up, her eyes were narrowed now in defiance of the request. Why would he want her disarmed? What was he up to?

Yes, Anxia be a good girl and do as you're told, you might get a pat on the head.

Not only did she take another step backward, the point of the sword was beginning to to rise up in warning.

[Darth Callidus]

The rising point of the sword made Callidus more aware of the relatively confined space within the passengers cabin. A few steps forward and Anxia would be within swinging distance of a cutting blow.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

[Darth Anxia]

What was going on was that something of Baska had burrowed deep into her mind. A residual shard, festering in there like a splinter. Even as he was speaking to her, it was Baska she heard. As though the woman were right there with them. Right behind her even, one arm around her neck, the blonde vixen whispered all kinds of suggestions that she had never considered, but probably should have.

Her head tipped slightly toward her master, a frown etching a crease into her brow while she struggled to work through the damage. All of this only worked because she believed in him, but what happened if she stopped? There was only room for two choices, either her faith in him was and always had been well placed, or...she was one of the galaxy's largest fools.

Shaking her head again, Anxia winced in painful denial. Her free hand instinctively went to her temple, as though she could rub the intrusion out and fix everything. "She...", Anxia started distractedly to attempt to explain..

[Darth Callidus]

It was the first time Callidus had ever seen Anxia looked so disorientated, and yet he could not help but feel an unsettling sense of deja vu (https://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?55383-Abandonment-10-045). Another of his apprentices had been gripped by fear of something that Callidus could not see; the delusions of her fractured had driven her to betray him.

“There is no one here but the two of us. You are... safe.”

[Darth Anxia]

Behind her mask, her eyes scowled at him. "No!!" She shook her head, sending off another wave of pain shooting through her skull.

Anxia was aware that Baska was not truly here, it did not stop the woman's influence of the Dark side from slithering through her mind. The result was that it was him she did not trust, so how was she safe?! The oppressiveness of the outside influence was not abating because they had left Rattatak, and Baska, behind. It was not going away, it was getting worse. If she had spoken up about it to begin with, she might have been able to articulate the problem better, but presently she felt as though she were drowning in a sea of malice. And the pressure was building..

"You.." Anxia staggered forward, sword still in hand.

[Darth Callidus]

Still stood on the same spot with his hand outstretched, Callidus hissed through his clenched teeth. As he exhaled, his skeletal mask, an illusion, spread out over his features like frost over water. The pure-white of his Arkanian his eyes vanished beneath black, pitiless hollows.

“On your knees,” he said, his words humming with the terrible, compelling power of the Dark Side.

[Darth Anxia]

Abruptly, Anxia stopped directly in her tracks. Not because she had been ordered to do so. She was not in a place where she felt like taking any orders just then. It was not even what he had said that had stopped her. It was how he had said it. The Dark Side, as she knew it best, was suddenly there with her. She had found the perfect lifeline in the storm.

Callidus.

If that was what it took so be it. Better the devil she knew..

"I don't...think so."

[Darth Callidus]

His claws snatched at empty air and the Force constricted around Anxia in invisible tendrils. He could not risk her moving any further forward, not when the shuttle compartment was so small. The space between them bristled with the potential for violence.

“Control yourself, Anxia, or you force me to control you.”

[Darth Anxia]

The Sith glanced downward at herself when she was unable to move. Visible or invisible, it made no difference. She could feel the tendrils binding her in place. The incessant scratching in the back of her mind demanded she should fight this, break free, and that might have been a logical reaction for anyone else. Not so much for Anxia. She could move just enough for her free fingers to curl up into a fist, and she pulled back upon those same tendrils connecting her to her master forcefully..

"Yes! Yes, do.. that.."

In the moment, it made perfect sense to Anxia that even if Callidus immolated her on the spot, at least it would burn away the other Sith's influence. She would take her chances.

[Darth Callidus]

With the physical threat contained, Callidus moved quickly to gain mastery over Anxia’s mind. He pushed his senses outwards, feeling the ebb and flow of the Force and using it to look with piercing, even painful clarity into Anxia’s thoughts. Her will strained against his. Where normally there was submission, now there was a push of resistance, a reflexive response from whatever Baska's psychic assaut had rattled loose inside Anxia's head. The Dark Side would probe through her conscious and subconscious alike, stripping away the confusion and fear to reveal the cause of her paranoia.

"Tell me what you feel."

[Darth Anxia]

Her brains felt like they were about to be boiled inside her head from the pressure. The coppery scent of her own blood saturating the inside of her mask was making her sick. Yet for all her misery, the intensity of her eyes simmered down from a full blown panic to something like relief. The Dark Side, directed by her master, washed over Anxia in an inky wave.

What did she feel? She felt the devastation of a thousand different ways she could lose everything. Each one cycling through her mind, displaying how easy it would be. Each worse than the one before, but there was a common theme.

"You... will betray me." She hated the sound of the hurt in her own voice, at the thought of being replaced as his apprentice. Or worse. Her entire being trembled in denial of such an outcome, she would absolutely not live in a world gone that wrong.

[Darth Callidus]

Anxia’s fears, as strong as they were, washed over Callidus as if they were his own. For an unsteady moment, the melding of their minds became an undertow, pulling eagerly at the psyche of both Sith. I will be replaced. I am not strong enough. I can never do enough. I will be revealed. I will be forgotten. With a growl, Callidus forced clarity into his thoughts, the Dark Side searing through and burning away the fog of confusion.

He strode forward a step and his mask rippled as if he were stepping through it. The skeletal face became translucent, Salem’s sharp features visible beneath the mask yet distorted by it.

“Why would I betray you?”

[Darth Anxia]

"Why?" Anxia echoed. Not really answering so much as trying to understand it herself.

When the man beneath the mask was revealed once more, she tried again to move and found it pointless. Straining against the hold on her, Anxia attempted again to reach him. The fingers of her free left hand tightening, pulling as she could with the last of her will. If she couldn't get to him, she would drag him to her.

"I.. failed." Her voice reflected her ragged misery about that fact, broken a bit like she was presently. She'd failed him.

[Darth Callidus]

When she pulled, this time Callidus moved. Towards her, towards the sword still clenched in her fist, close enough to strike.

“You have done everything I have asked of you.”

[Darth Anxia]

She had, with minimal fuss.

Anxia had never questioned it because she had always taken it on faith that they were in this together. Until today, when someone had made her question everything. All of it. She couldn't work this way. It was not how the essence of her soul was wired.

"And.. I always will." The Sith sword dropped from her hand, clanging noisily to the shuttle floor.

[Darth Callidus]

Just as the sword slipped from her fingertips, the invisible hold of the Force on Anxia’s body slipped away.

“You didn’t defeat Baska, but now you know how her power can eclipse your own and overwhelm you. She is a tool with which to sharpen you, as Creas and Malleus were before. In time, we will redress the imbalance between you.”

Callidus closed the last of the distance between them, stepping over the discarded blade, and reached out to draw aside the mask that skilled covered part of his apprentice's face.

[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.”

[Razielle Alastor]

Razielle wanted for that to be true, badly. When the lingering effects of her battle faded, and everything was returned to normal, would she believe it? She wanted to. More than anything she wanted back that feeling of his absolute dominion over her mind. It was nothing he had taken from her. It was something she had offered up willingly.

Hastily, she switched positions. Rolling onto a knee, she swung the other leg over his lap, bringing both of his hands to her hips. "Make me believe it.", she spoke in equal parts command and plea.

[Salem Ave]

Salem tipped his head back, to look up at Razielle as she sat over him. There was a sudden desperation in her voice, but Salem remained controlled.

“How can I convince you?”

[Razielle Alastor]

Dark brows drew together slightly in consternation, putting thought into anything hurt at the moment. Besides, he was the master, not her. Her hands traveled up the front of the armor of Callidus, there was something almost exploratory in her touch, despite the fact she would know every notch and curve blind.

Leaning forward, she smiled a bit crooked. "Well.. How did you do it the first time? Clearly, you must have ensorceled me somehow."

Resting her cheek on his shoulder, Razielle tried to remember, had there ever been an alternative? Or had she been lost from the first?

[Salem Ave]

“I promised you a life beyond the narrow little world you were confined to,” Salem said, kissing the top of her head.

“I told you I would protect you, and guide you to become powerful enough to indulge any of your desires, no matter how dark.”

With that last word, Salem touched the threads of the Dark Side that were never far from his grasp, and drew them inwards, sending a chill down Razielle’s spine.

[Razielle Alastor]

Yes, that would about have done it.

If she closed her eyes just for a moment, she could almost hear the roar of blue waves, throwing themselves against black sand. Turned out to be that a lot of what she desired was him, and to kill people, or better still to kill people with him. Her desires had adapted since then, become more complex as her life had become more complex, and she was beginning to understand that there was no end in sight. There was always going to be something more..

The tingle up her spine made Razielle's back arch in a sinuous wave, a small sound of pleasure escaping her. Eyes still closed, she smiled. It could not be said Salem had not delivered all of that, and more. That she was dusty, probably tasted less like a born princess, and more like the metallic tang of her own blood, did not stop her from pressing a kiss to his neck, and another after that, until she reached his ear. "I was very impressed.."

[Salem Ave]

“Naturally.”

A wry smile. Salem turned his face to meet hers, their lips a breath apart.

“And all I asked for in return was… complete submission.”

[Razielle Alastor]

She traced the shape of Salem's lips with one fingertip, softly, slowly as if she were memorizing a route she meant to explore closer, very soon.

Most of her wanted to submit, no question. For certain, Anxia would fulfill whatever task Callidus set her to. Razielle, however lived for the times when she managed to provoke unintended responses from Salem, pushing him maybe just too far... She always felt rewarded with the knowledge that she had stolen something real.

Exhaling with a slight tremble, she whispered. "I try.."

[Salem Ave]

“Sometimes with more conviction than others.”

The dynamic between the two of them had shifted significantly, since they had first met. In the early days of their time on Onderon, each time Salem had rebuffed Razielle she had redoubled her attempts to win him over. Now, there was no illusion to their courtship, no play to be put on for the court.

He kissed the tip of the finger running over his lips.

“Perhaps I’m not always easy to submit to.”

[Razielle Alastor]

With mischief in her eyes, one corner of Razielle's lips twisted up in a grin. He had known from the beginning that she was a bratty bit of baggage. She felt sure by now that Salem knew what he had signed up for. "Yes, I'm sure that's it.."

So close now, her mouth replaced her fingertip, nibbling unrushed at his bottom lip.

It could be complex, or it could be so simple when she thought about it. He was the push to her ceaseless pulling. The grounding force that kept her from complete recklessness. A necessity as vital to her as her breath. How had she forgotten that? Both deeply troubled by everything that had happened that day, and yet so damn thrilled that he had pulled her through it, she kissed him harder. Suitably reminded of who she was, and who they were together, any thoughts of resisting, or of fear, melted away.