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Thread: Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

  1. #1
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    Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

    Khendon pulled off his officer’s uniform and threw it aside. The black cloth would wrinkle easily but he didn’t care. He slipped into the bath water and let out a relaxing breath. The temperature was cold beyond tolerable levels.

    The man’s body began to tremble and he wrapped his arms around himself and willed his muscles to cease their spasms. His breathing slowed and took on the characteristics of a gentle wind. The Sith’s eyes shut and his face went still.

    He stayed that way for two hours.

    When the Executor final pulled himself free of his trance his body was white as snow and lips the light blue of an ice crevice. His eyes were gray northern storms that could chill the blood of any that peered into their depths. He stood in a rigid fashion as if his blood were frozen then shook the water from his body.

    The Sith walked naked through his room and slipped into loose black pants and sleeveless tunic.

    He started the motions of the first poomse of Helladune. His body became a flickering candle flame that danced in acrobatic attacks against invisible forces. There was a fluidity and correctness about each snapping punch, sweeping kick, and entwining grapple. The Force delicately wrapped around his body like a silk garment and propelled him through difficult combinations.

    He practice for two hours.

    When the Executor was finally done with his exercise he was scarlet in the face and breathed heavily. Sweat dripped everywhere and inundated everything.

    He took a shower, dressed in a blood red sleeveless tunic, and waited for the young lady to be shown into his quarters.

  2. #2
    Esalis was trying to break her. Trying very hard - though Arya had no idea why. She was being as cooperative as she could. After being deprived of sleep she was dumped into a room that alternated between extreme temperatures.

    Perhaps the woman was only trying to see how much the smuggler could take. Drenched with sweat, Arya was pulled out of the now hot cell, and dragged to the ion shower again. She felt light - as though she was floating. There was no mirror in the refresher, but by looking down at her body she could see that she'd lost weight. Her stomach was cramped from lack of food, though she was given water periodically, and a ration bar every other day.

    She drew small comfort from the fact that Esalis still wanted her alive. Her guards waited for her to pull on the loose grey pants, tank top and button shirt that were provided for prisoners. Her old ones were tossed into an incinerator, and she was marched out of the refresher and down the hall.

    They took a turbolift up... a lot of floors. Arya found herself shivering with cold, after the heat she'd endured for the last twelve hours. The guards largely ignored her, but she noticed that they were equipped with blasters now, not shockprods. The smuggler swayed between them, weak from her ordeal.

    The two guards were joined by two more as they left the turbolift, and continued through passageways. Arya tried to pay attention to the directions they were going, but could not. Eventually they stopped in front of a pair of expensive looking double doors. Arya was shoved inside with little fanfare, and found herself standing in someone's opulent apartment. The guards took their places behind her, where they would stay unless they were dismissed.

    She hugged her arms around her body, shaking from imaginary chills.

    There is a curse.
    They say: May you live in interesting times.


  3. #3
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    Khendon remembered to keep the Force completely in check. He literally cut himself off from its sweet waters. The Executor had been standing in the shadows with his eyes closed. He meditated on the feeling of normality that was to be without the touch of the Force. It wasn’t pleasant.

    He felt slightly naked without the raw power coursing through his veins.

    The Imperial took a step from the shadow and gently walked from the side room to the main chamber. The door slid open as he neared it and he walked through the still dim lighting and up towards the figures near the double doors.

    “You may go,” he waved away the guards.

    “You look chilled, Miss Ravenwing,” his brow was slightly furrowed in a look far too human for him. He seemed to be remorseful. “Sit, sit,” he gestured towards a small dining table that had been brought in with two chairs, “would you like a blanket?”

  4. #4
    As the man walked forwards, she took a step backwards, involuntarily. Memories of their last encounter were blurry, but she remembered his face. And the pain.

    The guards left her, and the man offered her a chair, and a blanket. Arya forced her legs to work, and she walked to the seat he had indicated, sitting stiffly. "Yes -" her voice cracked from lack of water, "Please."

    Still wary, she tracked his movements with her eyes.

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    Khendon let out a sigh as he went over to the couch and retrieved a blanket. “I hope your head doesn’t hurt,” he sounded genuinely sorry. “I had to knock you out when you transformed.”

    He draped the blanket around her and allowed his warm hands to rest on her shoulders for a moment before taking a step back. “Something to drink?” He scrutinized her for a moment. “Warm tea?”

    Khendon tapped on a wall panel and a small kitchen attached to the room became mildly illuminated.

  6. #6
    The smuggler shivered, pulling the blanket around her tightly as he moved towards the wall. In response to his question, she nodded.

    Who was he? He was a Force user - she knew that much from what Esalis had said. He was obviously not a Jedi, or the Empire would have killed him. Then what was he?

    Arya flinched back from his eyes when he turned again to look at her.

  7. #7
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    Khendon found a pot and filled it with water. He set it on a heating circle and activated it. The water quickly came to a boil and he added in fresh leaves and set the temperature lower so that it would release the flavor properly. The scent of the mixture quickly filled the apartment with its aroma.

    “Dalein tea from my homeworld of Hioni. It’ll help fight the chill from your bones. My mother used to make it for me after long days of climbing the snow covered peaks in the winter season. She used to put honey in it too, would you like that?” The Executor placed two mugs down and leaned on the tall countertop that separated the kitchen from the rest of the room.

  8. #8
    She shook her head, "No. No honey." Arya tried not to stare at him. "Does Esalis know I'm up here?"

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    Khendon jovially laughed. “Should she?” He looked at the color of the bubbling liquid and gave a slow nod. He poured the liquid through a small strainer to remove the leaves and carried the cups over to the table. He set one down in front of Arya and looked into her eyes.

    “Be careful. It’s hot.”

  10. #10
    She stared back at him, dubiously, and carefully lifted the tea cup to her lips. It was hot, and she blew on it carefully after burning her lips.

    "Who are you, then?" Arya sipped again, experimentally, and found the tea to be pretty good.

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    Khendon sat back in his chair and took a sip of his own tea. It wasn’t bad. His mother’s had been better.

    “Me?” He shrugged. “I’m Khendon Sevon. But you don’t mean that, do you?” He frowned then pursed his lips. “Imperial Executor Khendon Sevon.”

  12. #12
    "Oh." She drank her tea in silence for a few minutes, knowing that ignoring his title would probably upset him. He was acting like he was a real big shot, but she was already in as much trouble as she could be.

    "I hope you didn't bring me here as a prelude to dissection, Executor Sevon." As her body temperature stabilized, her aptitude for sarcasm grew. "There's not much to see." Arya fiddled with the empty teacup, wondering what would happen if she threw it at him.

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    “Dissection is overrated. I thought I’d let you in on a little secret, that’s all.

    “More tea?” He took another sip of his and relaxed his mind and body. Being passive was difficult for him. Still, he’d infiltrated enough Rebel organizations and put on plenty of charades in the past. This was just another well played act.

    There wasn’t a particular goal. He just wanted to see what the result would be. If she persisted in her hate, he would just give her a real reason to hate him. Otherwise the geniality would continue.

  14. #14
    She put the cup down, reluctant to lose her only weapon. "No thank you."

    Arya shivered again, and huddled back underneath the blanket. Her blue eyes went over the room for possible escape exits, though she knew it was a futile exercise. But if she gave up hope... she might as well just die.

    The room was full of strange odors, not the least of which was the smell of the man across from her. Arya's nostrils flared as she scented the air, rocking back and forth in her chair just slightly. "A secret? I hope you aren't getting into trouble."

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    Khendon grunted. “I could very well be put in front of a firing squad for the many secrets I know, Miss Ravenwing. That won’t happen, though.

    “Are you hungry? I could have something prepared. Anything your heart desires. Though,” he allowed his eyes to traverse her, “I warn that you should be careful in how much you eat. You must slowly become accustomed to eating large portions of food again.”

  16. #16
    She pulled the blanket a bit closer, though not because she was cold. "Anything but a ration bar." Arya was under no illusions as to how she looked - eyes sunken, cheeks hollow no doubt. Her rapid healing could do nothing to save her from hunger. In fact, it made things worse.

    Her metabolism was not on par with, say, a Cizerack, but she did usually consume more than the average human to keep up her strength. Even as her body tried to remain healthy it was destroying her from the inside out. "Anything. Please. I'm starving."

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    He frowned. “That’s a little vague.” His face drooped in concern.

    Khendon picked up his comm. and activated it, “Have the chef bring in a little of everything he thinks is good” He clicked it off and set it down.

    The Executor stood and went back to the kitchen. There was a small wooden wine rack and he selected a bottle and pulled it free. He brought two glasses to the table and opened the bottle. “A little wine with the meal should be good for you. It will help get your blood going, put some blood in your cheeks.” He smiled. “Mark my words though, only a little. Its effects will be fast and strong in your weakened condition.”

    He poured himself a glass and half as much for her.

  18. #18
    She eyes the glass and did not pick it up. At a look from the Executor, however, Arya picked up the glass and took a sip. She would wait for food before she drank more.

    He was being too nice to her, and her suspicious mind couldn't figure out why. It was obvious there was something he wanted from her, but how he thought he'd get it was beyond her.

    With the promise of food, however, she was not going to argue. Arya attempted a smile in his direction, and took another tiny sip of the wine. "You mentioned a secret?"

  19. #19
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    “I did.” He remained placid and allowed the flavor of the wine to coat his mouth before swallowing.

    “Eat first. Then, maybe, we’ll take a walk and talk away from these walls. You have a peculiar property, Miss Ravenwing, which prevents me from protecting our conversation by my usual means.

    ”It must’ve been unbearable to be tortured as you were.” He frowned. “I’m truly sorry that it had to happen as it did. You know..." he looked into his wine, "I was in your mind. Not in your mind. I was feeling what you were feeling, sensing what you were sensing, tasting your memories as they came to your thoughts." He looked up. "That's why you have to believe that I am sorry.

    "I know what you've suffered as intimately as you."

  20. #20
    She shrugged, the blanket slipping back a bit. "That must have been horrible for you then, Executor." Arya bit her lip, and shook her head, "I mean... I don't know. Are you taking me away from Esalis?"

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