Equivalent Exchange (Razadi)

[Ezra Na'chtion]

The Temple was in full motion today. Students sat behind desks in their classrooms while teachers stood at the head, directing their attention to state of the art holo displays filled with words and images pertaining to that day's lesson. Everything was neat and proper, from clean classrooms to sharp uniforms. It was difficult to tell this school apart from any other academy the galaxy over, if not for the subjects of some of the classes. Mingled among mathematics and history was control, sense, and alter. The history of the force was also taught from what records has survived the thousands of years it has been practiced. It was taught mostly unbiased, giving equal spotlight both sides of the many conflicts, the many philosophies.

However, it could be noticed that the teachers did, on ever so rare an occasion, speak more highly, and more enthusiastically, about the Sith and the Darkside of the force.

"And that concludes our lesson for the day. You will each write an essay on the nature of transwarp travel." A book was closed, and the holo projector shut down. The students, few enough to count on two hands, took their time gathering up their datapads and filtering out of the classroom. From his place at the head of the room Ezra watched them go, one by one. A few paused for a moment, asking questions about the assignment, perhaps looking for words of encouragement, but they received none. His attitude was hollow and cold. They resented him, he knew it, but that was the difference between molding and coddling. If he hoped to instill even a fraction of his own genius into these students he would do it with a hammer, not with a pillow. That meant tough assignments to push the very boundaries of their minds.

Ezra would see them master the classroom long before they master the battlefield.

A sigh escaped as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Teaching was not his forte. Rather he enjoyed learning. Knowledge was a gift to be acquired, fought for. Instead he was giving it out nearly for free. Naturally there was a more sinister plot behind the walls of this academy that would claim the souls or lives of the students within, but that was a cost they would not even realize they were paying when the time came. They will submit willingly, already broken, molded, and ready for the crucible. That reminded him, there was a matter of molding that still needed to be taken care of.

The whole academy had it's own comm system, with overhead speakers in every room and transmission units located on the walls beside the doors. Ezra walked over to his own, pressing a finger to the control and pressing his mouth near the receiver. "Razadi come to the Science classroom immediately. Razadi, to the Science classroom."

[Razadi Syfa]

She wasn't really a student of this bizarre 'academy' here on Tanaab. Schooling wasn't necessarily her thing as it was, and the Nar Shaddaan felt more comfortable either in her provided room or wandering the halls. Watching, studying faces and habits. Old habits from the Vertical City never died, and 'Zadi - while falling rather easily into a quiet routine of observation and wandering - was mindful to keep her awareness always poised, ready for whenever the other boot dropped. And it usually did, in her experience.

The voice that called to her from over the comm system was one that she vaguely recognized. Unfortunately no name came to mind, though there was certainly the chance that the sight of a face would trigger some memory. If she'd met the person behind the voice, that was. Her time so far on Tanaab had been spent in relative solitude. Even as she meandered her way through the endless hallways of the academy grounds she made it a point to be apart from those who attended schooling here. This place was one that she was ultimately unused to, and though she felt at times as an outsider, she was still determined to see what all of the fuss Rikke Frygt had made of it was about. But, she would do it on her terms. Which meant quiet observation. Not once had she stepped foot in any of the classrooms; it seemed now that that was about to change.

A grumble, and 'Zadi looked up from where she sat on her bed, an open folder of news flimsis contained within resting in front of her. They were of home, and had been so very kindly provided to her every week since her initial arrival.

With a groan, Razadi slid from the edge, bare feet coming to rest on the thinly carpeted floor. Closing the folder in the process, she stepped toward the door of her small room. It opened with the barest touch of a button, and she was sauntering her way through the academy, bare feet slapping hard tile. The science room wasn't exactly a difficult room to find, and it took a relatively short amount of time for her to push her way inside.

It was empty, except for one person.

With a look of sudden irritation, Razadi let out an impatient huff.

"Ses you wan', ne? I's busy."

[Ezra Na'chtion]

"I'm sure whatever occupies you can wait." He replied coldly before waving his hand through the air, causing the hologram blackboard to disappear back into it's projector. He adjusted his teacher's uniform. It was sharp. Dark Gray with a high collar, silver and gold embellishments, and the insignia of the school upon the breast and shoulder. It had a much more military edge to it. It could be mistaken for an Imperial Uniform at a distance. Ezra found them quite appealing. It gave a certain sophistication that the academy needed to appeal to sponsors while presenting the challenge of keeping clean and ironed for the students. There was no such thing as too many challenges. They would either sink or swim. Those that sank would be cast aside, and those that swam would rise to become acolytes of the new Order.

"Lady Frygt has expressed that I am to give instruction in order to progress you own ascension within the Order. I have set up a lesson for you. Let us relocate to my laboratory. Please." He gestured to the door. His attitude was ever the gentleman despite his cold and calculated demeanor. Stepping out from behind the gigantic Bora Oak desk he stepped toward the door, keeping pace with Razadi, as much as it infuriated him. His considered himself her better, and like his students in the school, his lessers followed behind him. Walking in tandem presented her as his equal, a stance he typically only shared with Rikke Frygt herself. Although she might considered herself his better, Ezra would always call Frygt his partner and never his master.

"I admit I do not know much of you Razadi. If you would, tell me what your capabilities are; combat proficiency, force attunement, as well as your goals. What do you hope to achieve with the Order?" The pair walked, Ezra's hands clasped together behind his back. They moved toward the lift that would take them down to the ground floor before they left the Academy and boarded his speeder that was waiting just outside. His laboratory was kept off site from the Academy. There were things within those walls that would be disastrous for a student to stumble upon before they were ready.

[Razadi Syfa]

As they walked, and he talked about wanting to know her capabilities, 'Zadi couldn't help the snort of half-derision that she let out.

"I's a con, is simple 'nuff. Here ta learn I s'ppose. Ain't got any ideas b'yond dat."

Her eyes moved then, to the side as she watched through the speeder's windows.

"Noffin' speshul, jes' good a' a few tricks. I c'n shiv a man, bu' I'd ratha not if I c'n get 'is creds wiffout gankin' 'im."

She continued to look at the scenery outside for a short time before turning to him. Briefly she wondered if he would make it even an afternoon back home.

"I grew up in da VRT, and you use everyt'in' you got to stay alive. Whether you got da Force or a blasta, you use whatever you 'ave."

[Ezra Na'chtion]

Her speech pattern, slang and dictation was like a file being drawn across the nerve center of his brain. Hopefully it was one area in which he could improve her, or reprogram is nothing else. He was sure that if he took her under the knife that he could correct it with some surface restructuring of her brain. It would be potentially lethal, but perhaps that was not so bad a thing when you consider the potential benefits. Thankfully he had grown up among degenerates and spacers back on Tatooine. Anchorhead was not far from Mos Eisely, and that city was merely a spaceport with a halo of cantinas to escape the heat and sate your thirst. He was familiar with strange accents and weird slang, but Razadi took language to a whole new depth and was nearly undecipherable.

"I choose to believe there exists potential in everyone. Discovering what that potential is, and unlocking it, is the challenge. Resourcefulness is a skill to take pride in, and I already know the depths of your ability to deceive. However, there is more to the Sith Order than simple survival." The speeder slowed to a stop outside what looked like a bomb shelter entrance; a fortified surface structure and inside a pathway into the ground. Ezra lead the apprentice into the depths. The forced regalia of the Academy was not present in the bare durocrete passage shelter. Minimal lighting revealed the dusty room filled with some crates and other oddities, and a cargo-sized turbolift at the end. Stepping on the pad he send it downward with the input of a password.

"The Sith Order requires many things from it's acolytes, Apprentice Syfa. Do you believe you have what it takes to serve the Order with the absolute devotion that we require?"

[Razadi Syfa]

Ever curious of her surrounding, 'Zadi sent her eyes all around her before finally turning to look to her side.

"Wouldna be here othawise," she shrugged. Her tone was noncommittal though, her posture relaxed as she stood. There wasn't much else she felt like saying in answer, since there didn't seem to be any to say. She was here cause she'd been offered credits and a way to make her tricks stronger. Which - to her - meant her game would be that much sharper and the payout larger. It made sense, at least at the time it did. True she watched. She listened to the idle conversation and chatter that surrounded her. But, she stayed to herself mostly, and did whatever few tasks were given to her; thankfully it was not a lot, as she found more interesst in exploring and trying to suss out this... this 'academy'. It still made a whole heap of not a lot of sense, but Razadi was patient. Still, she was in the first stages of becoming bored. Tanaab was starting to turn into the beginnings of a bum deal in her mind, but she kept those thoughts to herself.

Best not to anger the locals.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

The lift did not have far to go. It came to a lurching stop and Ezra set off again immediately. Hands clasped behind his back, head held high, with eyes looking straight ahead. As they walked motion detectors activated dim lighting along the floor. Just enough light to guide by but not enough to see clearly. There was nothing to see, Ezra had told himself when he had the lights installed. No need to waste power in a access hallway that served no purpose other than to funnel the few who came down here to and from the turbolift.

At the end of the corridor was a door. The corridor had to widen just to accommodate it's incredible size. Not only huge but solid as well. It was covered in electronic locks and devices. It was the kind of door you would expect a Hutt king to hide his wealth behind. It had two purposes. While it may appear to be there to keep out uninvited guests, it was equally built to keep anything from getting out. A retinal, finger, and bio scan were required to open the door, and only himself and Frygt had access. It was, after all, his laboratory. Heavy bolts withdrew, reinforced brackets peeled away, and finally the door slid upward into it's housing. Even without the lights on, one got the feeling that the room beyond was massive.

Stepping through and motioning for her to follow, Ezra lead into the large room. Only a single light came on, illuminating the platform they stood on. There was something out there, beyond a railing. A lower floor. Something moved below. Animal noises filtered up. However, there was not enough light to make out more than silhouettes in the darkness. "This way please." He commanded her attention back to himself as he stepped through another door. Beyond was a windowless room. Bright lights came on to reveal the sterile white room. A strange organic sucking noise came from just out of sight.

As she came inside Razadi came face to face with the contents of the room. Children were strapped to tables in a lowered operating theater. Naked, with large tubes connected to them. They withered in pain, fighting against the straps, their screams muted beneath the masks they wore. Whether she realized it or not, these were the children from the Under City. The door to the lab slammed shut, Ezra's finger on the button. The lock was primed and he stepped to the side, his eyes focused on Razadi as he walked slowly to the railing above the operation theater. A simple ramp was all that separated them.

"With your lips you promise allegiance and devotion, but your action betray your lies. I personally visited the Under City after your mission was complete. The entire clan was alive, although mostly defenseless after you stole their weapons. Their resistance was futile. I tore them apart. The survivors are here, where I am harvesting the flesh slowly from their bodies. The pain is incredible. This. This is the cost of your failure. Can you feel it? Their pain paints the force. It's... empowering."

[Razadi Syfa]

It was disturbing, and nothing that she'd ever seen before. Slowly looking out over each writhing body, Razadi was at least mindful enough to keep her mouth from opening in shock. Every one of those strapped down now had once been mostly free; yes they'd been living in the Under City, but they weren't ever subjected to... this.

She gave a sniff, made a disgusted face, but kept her gaze level. Watching him as he moved to the railing, then tracked her eyes to the unfortunate souls below while moving to stand beside him.

"I dunno. Seems t'me you'f got yorself a farm. Or ranch. Whateva dey're call't."

Her arms crossed over he chest as she continued to stare. She shifted her weight on the balls of her feet as she tried to 'feel' whatever it was Ezra was going on about. There wasn't much she could sense aside from a mild ripple in her awareness.

"But I ain't feelin' noffin, Guv. Hate to be dat person, but yeh. Can't feel noffin besides a bitta... " she stopped to think about how best to describe it.

"I dunno. Ripple? Like iffen ya tossed a tiny stone inna big lake, yeh?"

She finally gave a shrug.

"I does tricks. Ain't no psychic wot feels da feels of othas."

[Ezra Na'chtion]

His face pinched into a frown. He had prepared this for her, a test of her will, and a gateway into something darker, and she failed to truly grasp the magnitude of what she faced. She hid behind a wall, perhaps of her own creation, afraid of why lay on the other side. No, not afraid. Rather content with what little she had. Her lack of ambition put her at odds with the rest of the Sith Order. All of whom were power or knowledge hungry, and lusted after the material and immaterial riches they would bring. Most are the former, and Ezra was the rare breed that craved only knowledge.

Razadi seemed to lack any ambition or direction at all. That would have to change.

Stepping backwards, he turned and faced her, his face returning to an impassive mask. "Come. I will show you what you are too blind to see." Laying a gloved hand against the back of her shoulder, he escorted her down the ramp to the operating floor, passing several of the operating tables until they came to a stop in front of a particular one. A young man. His curly hair had been shaved away and his skin had taken on a yellow hue. Black splotches dotted his flesh along with scars and scabs of previous harvesting points. His body jerked and pulled at his restraints. An impassive mask covered his face, blinding and deafening, but if you listened hard enough you could hear the muted screaming beneath over the sound of the machinery.

"This is Wart. He became the new Yoda after the former one was recruited into our academy. This is what he feels."

As he spoke he had been removing the gloves from his hands. Without further word or permission, Ezra placed one hand on the teenager's waxy forehead and the other on Razadi's temple. With his knowledge of Sith Healing he focused on the pain, manipulating the anguish to strengthen his connection to the darkside, and then in turn transmit the sensation to Razadi. It was not a telepathic link, but rather a transfer of the pain from Wart's nervous system into that of Razadi. That ripping, tearing sensation as a machine slowly eats the flesh from your abdomen. The crippling isolation. The dooming knowledge that this had been going on for some time, and would continue with no chance of salvation. To Ezra, as the conduit, he felt it all too, but briefly. A hot flash.

It was terrible.