Log:Knights of Ren: To Catch a Jedi by the Toe

A Jedi Prisoner turns into a guest of the Knights of Ren

OOC Date: March 2, 2020
Location: Spearhead base
Participants: Erisi Auslese, Syrus, Sebek, Jacali

A strange turn of events has befallen the Kiffar Jedi Syrus Volo. Drawn as he was to the Ichren system, he wasn't sure what to expect, but the good money was always on a bad outcome. But, as with all things, he's rolling with it.

The big man is knelt in the center of his room, his eye closed and his hand gripping his knee as he breathes almost imperceptibly. Still, dark thoughts plague his mind, the station being a wellspring of angry energies and foul temperament.

Erisi is one of those angry energies and foul tempered things that came out of the wellspring, "Hi."

Taptaptap. Energy barrier is given a few rickie-tickies of her fingernails, woman robed, masked, and feeling frisky.

"I'm told we've met before. Sort of, I think I was busy burning your friend Yum and didn't notice you, you ...tall ..glass of ...dark ..ness." The masks creates a reedy and crackled voice, the vox thingie in it likely broken but the wearer probably liking that.

"Hey." Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Is there something I can do for you?" Syrus asks, his eye opening and moving to rest on the feminine presence on the other side of the barrier. His posture straightens a bit, but he doesn't stand just yet, taking a moment instead to process the jabs and strange compliments that have been thrown his way. Syrus Volo has partially disconnected.

Erisi drops down in front of the barrier into a cross-legged position, whip and saber gently rustling against each other which causes the woman to reach to her side to jostle them around to have them not jab her in the hip and lower back, "Not really, I mean ..you're in a cell, if I was one of you I might be asking you if there was something I could do for /you/, but .." Glancing up from her weapons she smiles beneath her mask/helmet, hands coming to a rest on her knees in mirroring of the Jedi in front of her behind the barrier, "I burned your friend Yum, so probably not going to ask how I can make your time in here more comfortable. I just wanted to see you. Talk. I was told I'm not allowed to set you or the cell on fire to see how you'd react, so it seems like it's just lookin' at you, and talkin' to you." Leaning forwards she offers apology, "Sorry."

"Many people have done many things to my Order. Try not to get such a big head about it," Syrus advises, tilting his head as he studies her. The helmet, the garb, the weapons; all in keeping with the maintaining of the status quo. The more things change and all that. "And I suppose I'll write it off as an awful shame that you're not allowed to hurt me," Syrus offers back, flatly before he sniffs sharply and closes his eyes once more.

"So, you're just here to look at me, then?"

"Oh I know, though ..how many people can say they set the guy with the cool hair on fire, huh? Pan ...Peytr P- D." Eyes narrow as she sits back a little, considering, "Yeah, probably a lot of people actually, he was a little, you know, all hair, not much else." Right hand lifts to wiggle fingertips in around her head, an expansive sigh escaping her then, "It's okay, my ego doesn't need fluffing, and I suffer no illusions that many things have been done to you. And your people." Shoulders rise and fall sharply, "No, I could hurt you, or try to - Just no fire, which is like, the one thing I like to do that, you know, makes me happy."

Chest rises, falls, lips pulling to the side unseen, watching as his eyes slide shut, that sniff is given, "Kinda, but also maybe learn something. Though, if you're not up to talking I can totally look at you. I'm told it can get a little creepy, but with the helmet, I can also nap while looking like I am being creepy starie, so, up to you."

"Well, what is it that you would like to know?" he asks, sighing as he's decided to give up on any further attempts at meditation. Erisi is a caged beast, and ignoring her would likely just provoke her. Even if it's not burning, Syrus would like to try and avoid being stabbed and whatnot. "What is it that has piqued your interest in a one-armed, one-eyed Kiffar?"

Probably. Erisi has boundless energy when it comes to harassing others when they pique her interest, "Kiffar? Is that what you are? You look Human, what makes you different from a human?" She searches his face, scooting up with a few butt bounces up to the energy field, snugging up real close.

"Did Malik do that to you?" Asked with a nudge of her chin to his face and loss of arm, "I was distracted if he did, but we covered that. What do your tattoos mean? Are they for people like me that you've killed?"

"Not much. Lighter blood, penchant for psychometrics," Syrus explains of his near human heritage. "And yes, Malik left me in this pitiable state. He believes that it causes me some amount of anger, but I'm afraid he'll never get the satisfaction of knowing."

His Hans lifts to rest on the tattoo running across his cheek. "No. This is the tattoo of my mother's clan; Volo. All Kiffar are marked as such."

"I think it looks pretty badass, I wouldn't say pitiable state is the word I'd use. Terrifying, maybe." Hands raise from knees as she says the word 'terrifying', hands drawing away from each other to highlight an invisible marquee, "Terrifying Kiffar Man with Lighter Blood and a Penchant for 'psychometrics'." She's probably being rated pretty low right now.

"Why are you afraid he'll never get the satisfaction? Who cares, is that why you're here? You want to eke him out, see if he's really gunning to be satisfied with knowing or not knowing if you're mad?" A soft snort, hands slapping back down to knees only to bounce right back up to push her hood back and unsecure her helmet/mask as she speaks, head tilting around as various things are unclasped, "Syrus -- Volo. It makes sense, so all Kiffar --" Her voice changes to it's usual tone as her hair falls out from within the helmet, plastered to her cheeks and forehead, bangs all afoul, "-- Their surnames are their clan names. Is everyone within a clan related?" Cheeks are flushed from the heat within, a few indentations in her cheeks. If Syrus cares to notice her ungloved hands are all spiderwebbed flesh, pinched and whorled, deformed flesh presumably extending beneath the fabric of her sleeves on either hand, flesh white and her natural brown, pockets of angry red flesh still healing evident. Helmet is set in her lap, "Or do you all do as the Mandalorian seem to do, adopt and breed within."

"Malik would like nothing more, I think, than to believe that he's somehow managed to get under my skin," Syrus says. "I am not above the petty denial of such a thing."

"We are all related, yes. Bloodlines are important to my people. It's imperative to understand the fabric of who you are, blemishes and all," he says, watching the armored interrogator become more and more human before him. His eye rests on her hands and he says, "It seems you've suffered much in the pursuit of your talents."

"He can be that way, can't he. But you're also here, so .. I guess that begs the question if he's not under your skin, why did you come here willingly? The last guy in here we basically kidnapped and threatened to kill. From what I hear you just up and ...walked on in." There is some confusion evident on her features, an earnestness to the look.

"Like ..you remind me of this really sad, sad chick who has to be around him all the time and has talked herself into thinking she is his savior. It's ...weird. And sad. Like she wants to be his mom but also have sex with him." Hazel-red eyes fall partially closed as her mouth contorts into one of distaste. But he shares more on the Kiffar and it seems to satiate her curiosity on that topic, "What happens if one of your people is cut off from your clan? Does that ever happen? Or is that one of those ..accepting your blemishes and all." Leaning in she tilts her head to the right, glancing down to her lap and bringing her hands to the top of her helmet, turning hands so that they're palm up, the burns most severe there, angry and perhaps infected, "Not in pursuit of my talents, but in pursuit of my self."

Left hand lifts up to hover higher as fingers splay, "I held my bled crystal in this hand as it stopped crying out and accepted me and our path, still hot from the forge." Hand turns again and she lifts it up towards the barrier to show the man, "And it's only suffering if one regrets it. I don't."

"I was lead here. I'm still not sure why, but I will continue to act as a vessel for the Force's will until such a time as I am incapable," Syrus answers, nodding softly as he says this. Almost as if it's a silent reassurance to himself. "And no. People are not banished, unless in severe cases. The slaying of kin or other things of that nature. Forgiveness runs deep." As do still waters, apparently.

"The lack of regret doesn't counter suffering. You can be proud of your scars, but you still bled to get them, my friend," Syrus muses.

"What...lead you to this path?"

"Well, you named it suffering, I name it awakening." Said as she lowers her hand and pulls it back in to rest it atop her helmet, "Pain is a figment of a broken mind, accepting the sensation as a .." She looks away, searching with her gaze for the word she wants, "...matter of life, makes it not suffering. When you do that, it becomes exquisite, a ..confirmation that the blood running through one's veins is not, sorry for the pun-" The lopsided smile that crumples over her lips says she's not actually sorry, "- in vain."

Seems for an interrogator she kinda sucks, because she ain't doing much but sharing knowledge and experiences. She probably -isn't- an interrogator, or IS SHE.

"So is that what you are? Just a vessel? You float on cosmic waters, drawn this way and that? Interesting." Bottom lip puckers out as she considers that and his clans method of forgiveness, "I could forgive someone for killing kin, I think our ideas of family run parallel, clan, family. Weird." A soft throaty noise escapes her as gaze lifts back to Syrus' one eyed face, allowing a silence to settle between them before she continues.

"I don't think you understand, I don't take pride in my scars, but ..I accept them as a part of me, my journey. Pride often leads people away from the paths they're meant to take. Looking on them reminds me of my strength and my purpose. My real self. Other scars heal but these never do, do you think that's the force's way of telling me, reminding me, of my self?" Asked, eyes squinting as she poses the question, but she'd be rude not to answer his, "I don't know. I suppose it's the same that brought you here to this station, lead without knowing why precisely. Though I am no longer just a vessel being drawn to where the force deigns. I bend the waters to where I wish to go. What made you give yourself to your path? It sounds like blind faith in nothing, and you're the one stranded in the waves hoping to find shore. Or ..death. As you would be once you, in your words, became incapable."

Sebek arrives from Security. Sebek has arrived.

Erisi is sitting cross-legged in front of a cross-legged Syrus, helmet in her lap, barrier between them, engaged in conversation.

"I'd never venture so far as to say what the Force is doing," Syrus says, his gaze still fixed on her hands. "And I have a blind faith in /everything/," he says as he finally stands, reaching his full, towering height. He moves closer to the shimmering, red wall that separates the two of them and looks down at her, saying, "And you only think you're bending the waters, my friend. You are as much a vessel as any of us. We have no say in what we do or why. Our one solace is that our existence will be woven into the tapestry of this Galaxy, when we become one with the Force."

"So what you're saying is that every single person I have ever killed has been inevitable." As he towers over her she rises up, clutching her helmet to one side as her robes fall back into place, still leaving her completely towered over by the huge man. Only physically, though. Erisi's balls are clearly larger.

"And that I am exactly where I should be, and everything I do from today is exactly as the Force wills it. So every time I have a Myra Bale whose bones crumble and disintegrate to ash because I set them aflame internally, that I am doing the will of the Force." A soft 'huhn' sounds in her throat, looking quite pleased.

"Well, that is very affirming, because I do love what I do, and though I haven't had a moment where I've wavered in my actions and thought 'hey maybe I shouldn't kill this person', I always wondered if I would. And now .." Chin tilts up so she can look up, up, up, "..I know I won't. Because this is as I am to be, exactly as I've thought since I took the first life. I am the exterminator of the Force. That's so lovely. Well, maybe not -the- exterminator, one of many, which is also affirming. One can't do everything on one's own, afterall." Reaching out to bump knuckles against the forcefield she grins up as it 'whomwhomwhoms' in response, "Thanks, man."

"Lack of agency dictates hunt, is it?" were the words from the dark cassock'd figure entering the room quietly. He wasn't human, his features were too sharp and his skin was too green. The tall being, a Falleen, was encrusted with bling. Infinite earrings, amulets, gemstones, gold, even a fancy binding for his topknot. And traditional winged eyeliner, because 'fleek' somehow became a concept carried into wherever we are now. "Acceptable." He stalked closer to the small gathering, taking his place behind his comrade with his arms wrapped around his back. "Greetings, She Who Ignites," oh, the name had changed! "What is this thing we have contained?"

"Precisely," Syrus says, nodding to her. "But there's some reason I'm here. Perhaps it's to bring you to the light. Perhaps it's to fall to darkness. The Force will decide in its time," Syrus explains. "The Force will decide in its time."

His large hand moves to rest on his hip as the forcefield wobbles beneath her brief touch. "Ever ebbing, ever flowing," he says, remarking on the nature of the Universe, as if even he, in all of his years of study, has even the slightest idea. "Though, it's strange that you find such pleasure in destruction. Perhaps that's for the best, though. Otherwise, you'd likely be broken beneath the weight of the lives you've taken. And a broken tool is useless."

His attention turns to the entering Falleen and Syrus dips his head to the man, but makes no introductions, perhaps curious as to what Erisi will say of him from their limited experience.

"Ah, He who Hunts, I was wondering when you'd come to see our guest." Half-turning from the barrier she lifts a hand to gesture to the red-barrier, showing off their new toy, "This is a Kiffar. Jedi. Wait-"

Turning back to Syrus, waving a hand to dismiss his words, "Yeah, no, you're not turning me into a light, I am the mother karkin' light, now. Do you all still go around as 'Jedi', or ..are you something else. Like ...Brown ..space wizards. I don't want to mislabel you, because if I have to write a report later there has to be precision to my words, you know how it is. This is just a visit so far, but you never know when it'll get 'real'." Finger quotes and all. "Ha, could you imagine me burdened by guilt? Cripes, I'd be so boring. This is He who Hunts, Syrus of clan Volo. He came here /willingly/--" Now she's turned with her back to Syrus as she jabs a thumb back over her shoulder at him, "Because the Force told him to. Now, he thinks it might be to save me, which -" A throaty guffawing laugh, body doubling over slightly as she lets it dissolve into a giggle, hands waving in front of her as she brushes away the idea, "Or ...to fall to darkness, as if what we do is 'darkness'. But, until the force tells him what to do, I guess we have him as a prisoner, though ..the fact he's here willingly says he's more ..guest-like I guess. Not as fun, but .." Shrug, "Also, the eye and arm, Malik did that. He doesn't wanna give him the satisfaction of claiming any feeling any which way about the limbs, but I guess it's just to be petty to Mal, so you know, take of that what you will." She pauses, bottom lip edged out as she puckers her lips, trying to think of anything else. Nope. She smiles a toothy smile, " "I think you're up to speed Most Favored Alien of Mine, so ..your turn if you want, I just came in to chat."

"Stupid," said the tall Falleen, sneering, his pointed teeth visible. There was a flash of anger in his amber eyes as he passed judgment. "This one's brain is fat. Tainted by passivity. Cannot see beyond his nose, deems it not his problem. Fat." He started pacing in front of the barrier, his hands balled in fists and placed together behind his back and his eyes never leaving the man inside the cell. "He Who Sits," were his next words, having decided on the name of this individual despite clearly hearing it before. "Sit, then, He Who Sits. That is what you do. That is all you do." He turned his head back to Erisi and stopped his pacing. "If this is Jeedai, we waste our time. Eat this one and move on."

"Jedi is the preferred nomenclature," Syrus says, nodding to the woman. Then the Falleen is pacing and making assumptions far beyond his station. Syrus's brain is RIPPED, you lizard.

For just a moment, there's a flash of anger in the Kiffar's eye as he moves to stand across from where Sebek is currently pacing. Syrus's hand flinches into a 'come hither' motion, and an invisible tendril reaches out to grasp the hunter's head before it jerks him toward the barrier, holding him in place against the hot, thrumming surface.

"For a moment, consider being He Who Begs the Mean Jedi to Stop."

Erisi doesn't laugh, despite very dearly wanting to. For some reason she's able to keep it together. Nope, hands clasp together in a clap and come up to rest under her chin as she sways up onto her toes then back down, clearly excited, "Wow, so you /do/ act on your emotions, and your first impulse, instead of talking to him and saying something boring, is to /smash/ him into the forcefield and hurt him - I love it, I love it so much, because /I/ would do that in the same situation." A bewildered smile is parted as she side-eyes Syrus, "I always thought my parents stole me from someone elses cradle, maybe we're siblings, because I'm totally feeling this."

Gushing over Syrus she'll raise her hand up to yank poor Sebek /back/ from the red-glimmering barrier, fingers twitching to eke him back towards her like she's coaxing a puppy away from a puddle.

"I don't eat people, he who Hunts, but maybe if I spend more time with you and we do this sort of thing more often I could be convinced, but ..."

Gently with a wave of her hand she'll lower Sebek to the ground, and he can crumple as needed as she steps forwards to meet the barrier. There she looks at Syrus hard, studying an anomaly, "Maybe you are here to be one of us, to join our family. I've never seen one of your kind resort to that sort of action first, usually by now we've been bored to tears and you'd still be waxing poetic about how you can save us, dark side this, dark side that, come light side blee blah bloo." Her tongue flips out as she 'ffrrts' softly, still studying the large man, "And you outright mocked him, I mean, power move but usually when one of yours does the insulting it's more cerebral and ..lacking in bite." Look at her, in awe, "Where's Jacali, she would love this." Head shakes slightly, "The Force is weird."

Jacali arrives from Security. Jacali has arrived. ID10 Seeker Droid - 14457 has arrived. BB-Series FO Astromech - 19787 has arrived.

Honestly this could have gone either way. It was the perfect opportunity for a 'yes, use your anger' speech or some laughter about how He Who Sits doesn't. Would have really had some sort of effect, here. Maybe. It's all conjecture. And in fact, that's what Sebek the Falleen, He Who Hunts, should have done.

The problem here is that he read the attack as an insult.

He Who Burns was not having the best day. His skin was starting to drift from that lovely green, towards a sort of lime, definitely picking up hints of yellow. This was of course ignoring that his face and gorgeous cassock were pressed up against a barrier of burning. Joy! His expression had slid from a cool simmer to an angry boil. "He Who Hunts does not BEG!" Oh, it was defeat. Defeat was the thing that set him off! Even the vaunted liberation from his plight at the hands of She Who Ignites was a humiliation! Approaching a lovely shade of orange, now, He Who Hunts erupted. "DIE, HE WHO DIES!"

Anger surged into Sebek's being and erupted from him, wrapping a giant invisible hand around the giant Kiffar JEEDAI. Turnabout is fair play, right? With a mighty pulling motion using both hands, he wrenched He Who Sits into the barrier to return the favour. The laughter started immediately, the mad cackling of someone who didn't perform under pressure. "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA..."

It's about midway through the mad cackling that Jacali first makes her appearance, let in by the guards without any issue. She carried with her impliments of torture. At least, that's what they might look like to those not in the know. There's a pause in her step as she catches the conversation, her head tilting to one side as she observes those gathered, and the changing hue of the madman catching her attentions for slightly longer than might be comfortable for most.

Finally, she takes in a long breath and lets it out in a sharp sigh. "I have come to collect samples." She explains, coolly. Too-bright eyes drift from person to person, her expression a mask of the purest neutrality, blended with a hint of 'has had enough of this shit'. "Your next actions shall dictate the order in which I choose my specimen." She informs, placing a heavy metal case on the ground, which then begins to unfold into a table of sorts, her attentions drifting that way.

She then waits, hands neatly clasped before her.

"The Force /is/ weird," is Sy's answer to Erisi, releasing his hold on the Falleen, so that she can pull him back to relative safety. The Kiffar looks down at his hand in a brief study before he looks back up to her. "Neither of us is qualified enough to think on it for very lo-" he's cut off as the Falleen begins pulling him toward the barrier. It's strong enough that Syrus's attempts at back tracking fail him, and he, too is set to burn against the crackling wall. But, for some reason or another, he doesn't. Almost as if there's another wall of something between him and the barrier. His skin heats up a little, and some peeling can be seen, but to a much lesser degree. "You're weak, aren't you?" he asks, a grin forming on his slightly-peeling lips.

She has to laugh. She wants to so badly. Lips crumple as eyes fill with tears, brow drawing down as her insides burn with laughter. But willpower. So her eyes just glimmer, smile tremoring in it's bid to keep her mouth shut so she doesn't laugh out loud, turning to look at Jacali, barely getting the words out, though look at her, she does, "Speak of the sand demon. No, no - don't make them stop, this is wonderful." Asked as one hand unfurls from beneath her chin, waving Jacali to join her at her side, "Come, stab away at me, don't make this stop though." So enthralled with what she sees between the two Erisi'll distractedly unbutton the front of her doublet, undoing the top of her tunic, yanking it to the side and baring her shoulder for Jacali, "There's an artery somewhere there you can jab." A craning of her neck the opposite way as she gives herself to Jacali. She can't tear her eyes away from the scene before her.

Every attack means just a smidgen more of a lure to the dark side for both men, Sebek clearly having already given in, and Syrus, well. Look at the beautiful bastard. Jacali, should she choose to take on Erisi as a specimen will feel her trembling with excitement, laughter still wanting to burst out, but dang. She willful today, "Who /is/ qualified, Syrus ...I have so many questions."

To snatch a stalemate from the jaws of defeat! The resistance only made Sebek's skin deepen into an angrier shade of red. "JEST, He Who Dies!" spat the snarling Falleen, face twisted into an expression that no human could match. A long tongue flicked out and in as he devolved further into animalistic anger, his clawed hands twisted into a vicious grip on physically nothing as he fought tooth and nail to pull He Who Sits into the barrier further. What Sebek SHOULD have been doing was taunting He Who Sits and trying to drag him down into the darkness further. But sometimes when your mind snaps you don't get to make a good ol' logical decision like that. "You jest and you taunt and you sit and you BURN! Your arm, entree! Your flesh, main course! YOUR EYEBALL, PALATE CLEANSER!"

There's another sigh at Erisi's words, but Jacali does meander her way toward the woman with tools in hand, her little table rolling along behind her sporting all that she should need to keep this sanitary. She all but ignores the events unfolding, what with the Falleen's battle-screeching, and the dark skinned fellow that mocks him. Her gloved, clawed hands move for the woman that has so valiantly offered herself for the doctor's prodding, one cold leather-padded thumb moving to press against the carotid gingerly, almost gently. Almost.

It isn't long before a needle is speared in there with all the exactitude of someone that has done this too many times to count. She's silent as she waits for the sample to fill, eyes focused on what is likely terribly mundane blood. "I will require more invasive samples," She warns, "Samples of flesh, biopsies of particular organs that I do not have access to at current," She pops out one vial, swapping it with another and waiting for it to fill. "For now, I will not interrupt, as per your request. But, I shall be ever so cross if their pissing contest interferes with my research."

"None of us," is Syrus's answer to Erisi, his eye turning to fall on her as he remains against the barrier. Still the Falleen jabs and jabs. Still Syrus gets angrier and angrier. The big man closes his eye and concentrates, doing his best to clear his mind, and doing a downright terrible job of it.

Blink.

The field separating the two parties is gone. But only for an instant. But an instant is all Syrus needs to end up on the other side of it.

"Enough!" he bellows out towards the Falleen, generations of Kiffar pride and war-mongering edging into his voice. His hand moves to his hip out of reflex but, likely to the Falleen's continued longevity, the Kiffar's saber is not there. Syrus still stands there, though, battle-ready; huffing and puffing.

AND HE'S OUT! And Eri's on the second vial of blood being drawn, laughter erupting, "Look how /enraged/ you both are, this is --" He has escaped and Erisi continues standing there, one hand on her hip, the other wiggling through the air, "Yeah, yeah, biopsy me later, beautiful, for now--"

She yanks away from the vial sucking out her blood, a little spurting from her neck as hand in the air sweeps up to put pressure on the spot, likely used to this sort for some reason. Or just really ready for things, "Your research is on going, but look, he thinks he can get past all of us, and all of the knights out there. He's not thinking straight. Just the anger. So pretty." A pause, Eri making a decision, "Syrus--" She attempts something she's really only ever been told of, maybe practiced once or twice - only to be met with equal will. Huh. "Huh." Her eyes narrow as her brute attempt at ripping the force away from Syrus is met with equal brute attempt to resist, which means they're at a stalemate, "/You/ ~chose~ to be here, Syrus, so ..you have a choice. Potentially lose more limbs." Lookit that hand on her hip, it moves to settle on the hilt of her lightsaber, "I dunno, get more angry and all muscly, which ..by the way, I'm a super fan of, like, super duper - because ..it's a real good look on you." Shoulders raise towards her ears as she gives a 'but who knows' sort of squish of the lips, "Or ..get back in the cell, we all chat more, I think you can admit I was being pretty neighborly, and plus we were having interesting discourse. OR." And she raises her brows with a wiggle, "You do the first thing and we all get sweaty together and you get more //fun//." Why ..why is she encouraging the first thing?! Pure chaos.

"You do not DICTATE, He Who Dies!" Oh yeah Sebek wasn't coming out of this barbarian fury any time soon. His skin was beet red. Without sword in hand or in reach, and with the big one-armed man in front of him, He Who Hunts attacked with the first thing he had on hand.

Namely, his head.

BOOF! The Falleen's head impacted impotently against the chest of the ripped dark hunk of muscle that is Syrus Volo. All crushing force was completely ablated and deflected into nothingness, leaving the Falleen impotently and humourously with his forehead pressed against another man. Oh boy if Lord Ren here it'd be a tossup between Sebek getting cheered on or chewed out. This embarrassment only made him angrier, and when he applied pressure to push the man back into the barrier his feet skidded against the floor. "DIE!" Good work.

The good Doctor gives a furrow of her brows and an anemic press of her lips to a tight line as Erisi pulls away from the vial before the second sample is fully gathered. Her ire, it does begin to rise. But, to a group such as this, how much threat could she possibly represent?

Her lower jaw juts forward, the muscles where it hinges visibly tensing as she looks between those that are now engaged either physically or verbally, nostrils flaring as she takes in a sharp breath through her nose. "I must remind all participants of this little 'event' that I am a nonviolent observer, and though I am certain this means little to my associates, I would hope that it should factor into our guest's processes." Then again, dark dude's pretty mad. Still, the doctor continues, even as Sebek starts off with that Keldabe kiss, and ends up tenderly touching with the larger fellow. Jacali frowns. This is grossly close to affection. At least, as she understands affection. "I must insist that calmer heads prev--" It's about then that Sebek shouts that last word, causing the Arkanian woman to flinch slightly, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose as her head hangs forward. This is all getting terribly out of control, and there's little Jacali loves more than control, so this is very uncomfortable as far as situations go. In silence, she watches for a few moments more, lowering her hand after quickly rubbing her face. "If limbs are to be lost, please bring them to me." Her brows lift slightly, eyes flicking to Erisi. "... I have..." She squints. "... Theories." Doesn't she always?

"Give...me...your...saber," Syrus says, forcing a thought into the woman's mind as he stares her down, his eye belying the heat inside. He grunts beneath the Falleen's ridged forehead, but holds his ground, his hand stretching out toward Erisi. "Now!"

"Of course." Smack. Into Syrus's hand goes her saber, the woman doing it happily, with a bright smile and then a look of confusion, still smiling as she looks completely happy with giving over her weapon, "Why did I - oh." Upper teeth show as her lips drop open with surprise and delight, "Oh that felt so _sexy and intense_ ..." Says the woman with a confused narrowing of her eyes, "I liked it, do it again, but this time make /me/ tenderly touch your breast with my forehead." Can he do that? Would he do that? Oh, wait. He's trying to escape and he has her saber.

Still highly aroused (gross) she tries to set the man on fire by concentrating on him but oh. The way Sebek is tenderly held in against him she can't ..quite ..focus ..her brain ..on ..vibrating those needed molecules because ...he's so enraged. And hot. And. Oh goddess. She has a crush. No. NO. HE'S VIBRATING HER MOLECULES NOW. AH. Laughter. Embarrassed and maybe a teensy weensy sexually stimulated , "Oh Myrtle, I'm a little flush." And cray.

Syrus Volo depresses the button on his cylindrical lightsaber and with an electric snap-hiss a crimson red energy beam springs forth!

An opening! Outstretched claw reached for the shiny tube of murder that so clearly reflected Sebek's burning skin. A swing and a miss. Rage burning ever impotently, he swung that fist (first mistake) in a wide arc (second mistake) over He Who Sits's head (third mistake) with way too much force (fourth mistake), leaving him thrown off the bigger man and stumbling away from him. Sorry, no more beautiful skin-to-skin contact. Just a furious Falleen who can't comprehend the fact that he's exposed his back to an angry, angry man with a motherfracking lightsaber (fifth mistake). Well Sebek, it was nice knowing you. (sixth mistake)

Jacali silently wonders if the limbs Sebek's about to lose could be attached to Syrus. Now she, too, is sexually stimulated.

"Thank you," Syrus offers back to Erisi as the saber is placed in his hand. A shoulder/stump is driven into Sebek's back, driving him into the wall before the blade of Erisi's saber springs to life and pierces through the Falleen's back, pinning him to the duracrete for a moment.

"He...Who...Dies," Syrus bites back at the lizard man, twisting the hilt of the weapon against his back before stepping back and pulling the saber out of him. Then the Kiffar turns to face the remaining two Knights.

"Well!?"

"I love you." Said with the utmost of emotional rawness, Erisi shaking her head as hands come to clutch at her chest even as Syrus culls Sebek who no doubt, by the will of the force because it is so strange and weird, lives. Pulling her doublet back over her shoulder and the tunic beneath it along flesh of her shoulder she continues to look flushed, cheeks blushed a deep plum red, hazel eyes bright, "I mean, look at you. You .." She's at a loss for words, fighting back tears of joy that previously were laughter induced, but now are just pure happiness, "..are perfection. Raw fire, and you wonder why you were sent here? Look at that. You take down a man who is nowhere near your prowess. Not yet, if he lives, but we'll get him there." Nodding to the figure that may or may not be sliding down the wall. "You wield /my/ saber, and it responds to you like you were me - Jacali, go, help Sebek. I need a moment with Syrus - Syrus, please." Her hand is held out, "My saber back, please. I have no interest in killing you, fighting you - well." A smile, "That's a lie, I'm stoked right now but I think we'd be better suited to fighting in the training room together while talking. Come. Would you ..be my guest? For the duration while you figure yourself out. I mean, I see your path clearly, but as we agreed the force is a strange and wonderous thing." Her outstretched webbed and burned hand is held out for both the man and the saber, "Let's see where it leads you."

Pain.

Blinding pain.

Not even that was enough to knock Sebek out of his rage. He slumped against the wall face-first, overwhelmed by twin agonies of defeat and a horrific gut wound. He turned as his collapse continued, sitting, bracing himself, clutching his new injury and glaring so much hate at Syrus it could power starships. "Defeat invites... reprisal, He Who... Falls," he spat weakly, body shuddering with twitch after involuntary twitch. A new name. Fitting. His skin rippled, shades of red fading in and out as his injury fought with his anger. He didn't even process that his place in Erisi's heart, however fleeting it was, had just been supplanted. "The score... must be evened."

Jacali's eyes drift to Sebek as he's skewered with Erisi's lightsaber, now in the hands of a Jedi. A very angry Jedi. There are a few long moments where she loses herself in thought, staring in the Falleen's direction with the same interest she had shown before. If he dies, the entirety of him becomes a 'sample'. If he doesn't, he's a captive audience for the next while at the very least. Either way, this is a win for the strange Arkanian. But, he asked a question, didn't he? One of Jacali's brows quirks as she finds herself being pulled back into the monotony of reality, and her frown tells a tale that she's none too happy about it. "... I require samples of blood and tissue," She speaks evenly, unblinkingly staring toward the previously mangled 'prisoner'. "For further research." At least she's honest about her desires here. One of her clawed digits points lazily toward Sebek, "I have dibs on that. You can't have it, this is salvager's rights." Is it, though? Is it really? She takes another slow breath in, considering the dark skinned Kiffar and the danger he represents. "Also, I must ask that you return to captivity, as I am uncomfortable examining you in such open conditions, and fear that the anger that currently infects your thoughts might cloud your judgment, and..." Then Erisi is trying to take the subject away. Her head turns her way, and there is betrayal in those wide, bright eyes of hers. How dare she. ... how very dare she. Her mouth opens, closes, and opens a few times. It's a very goldfish kind of expression. Finally, she tsks, scowling in the direction of the two of them before directing her attentions back to Sebek, where he still growls and spits like a badger caught in a baler. She heaves a sigh and paces toward him with even steps, her footfalls all but silent in the wake of this traumatic event, the soft squeak of the wheels on the table that follows her offering more of an alert to her approach than she ever could. There, she crouches, staring down at the Falleen with an expression of judgment, and the sort of disappointment only his parents should be able to feel. "Subject is suffering from an extensive case of..." She thinks on it a moment, one of her shoulders lifting idly in some lazy half-shrug. "... Failure." She concludes.

"You..." Syrus begins, lifting the crimson blade to point it at Erisi, still very much in his strangely formal fighting stance, as blind rage has been replaced by training and muscle memory.

"We'll...fine," he relents, the blade dropping slowly and swishing out a quick salute before it's extinguished. Still wary, but having made a judgement call already, Syrus flips the hilt in his hand and holds it out to the woman.

Jacali is regarded with contempt as she continues to talk about him as if he's some sort of subject, but soon enough her attention is on the dying Falleen.

"Your terms are acceptable. For now," Syrus says to Erisi, saber still outstretched. Syrus Volo presses the button on his cylindrical lightsaber hilt causing the crimson red energy beam to slide back down with a protesting squeal.

Erisi reaches out for the hilt of her blade, clasping it firmly though she doesn't tug it back just yet, pressing her other still healing hand over his as it holds her blade, letting it all sink in for the time that she has his gaze, "Brilliant." Only then does she pat his hand, slowly withdrawing hands and saber, bringing all to her hips, "Though I'm serious, do that thing again to my mind one of these days, I have never felt so helpless before. It was /delicious/." Brows lilt up into mussed bangs, "Maybe tomorrow, once the high of this time wears off." Business done, no one dead, at least not completely dead, she rehooks her saber to her hip, bottom lip drawn between teeth as feet twist to bring her around to look to the duo, disappointment from one, unwavering will in the other, "I'm sure you both have ears that function. Syrus Volo is now my guest. Ensure that he's --" And she leans forwards, seeking out the camera that monitors all, "-- not on any lists he shouldn't be, just the training room, and room 3 in the Vanguard wing, and oh, why not, the observation lounge, mmmm." Rocking back onto her right foot as she considers, "That should do it. Ensure he can't wander willy nilly unless myself or Malik is with him. Cool?" Hands now free of her saber she raises the left to give a thumbs up to those outside and inside, Knights on Alert though faces don't wish to be melted so no one moves on the Jedi. "So, you can sleep or meditate, or ...get angry in the vanguard wing, room three. Don't worry, they'll flag you so it's all automated. You can eat, drink, be merry, I recommend the observation lounge for that. Great view." Lips are then licked as she considers anything else, a quick 'oh', torso twisting so she can look at Syrus over her shoulder, " "Please don't get this angry again without me, I would hate to miss out on such a thing because it is, again ..just wonderful. Jacali-" Oh, she's ticking a finger in the air, back-twist. "How long do you think Sebek will take before he can stand on his own? I'm to take him under my wing and I'd like to start his training. Formally. He has all this wonderful energy but can't focus properly. I intend to fix that. Syrus, you can join to watch if you want. Jacali, you as well. You could probably do scans or something, stick us with pointy things that read levels .." A satisfied exhalation of air and a relaxing of her shoulders, "Okay then, this was such a good day, thank you all for taking part, Syrus ..please. Feel free to wander in your limited capacity, I'll let Malik know the wonderful news and ...well. Is there anything else?" Asked of all in the room, head swiveling as she sets gaze on each, including those beyond the door which is now open with peepers.

Even if Sebek wanted to eat someone's throat with those big ol' pointies of his (which, yes, yes he bloody well did), he didn't have the physical capacity to do so right now. Pain's a bitch. So his attack was condensed into the form of a GLARE and thrown at the strange doctor woman who'd just called him a failure. "Continue, She Who Vexes," ah, the doctor had received a name for an impotent and pain-wracked threat, "and I will consume your liver with an Alderaanian vintage crimson." Same shade as his skin, in fact. Unfortunately his higher brain functions were still shut off, which was not necessarily a good thing, because those were the ones that said 'you're injured, pass out'.

To Erisi, Jacali offers another vague shrug of her shoulders. "I am unfamiliar with his breed in practicality -- they are reptilian, yet lack the regenerative properties of many of their scaled brethren, and I am unsure of whether or not he is capable of the," The skin above her nose wrinkles slightly at the word she's about to use, eyes giving a subtle roll. "... magic... yourself and Malik Ren seem to possess. I will more closely examine the wounds suffered, and see what I can do without the use of the bacta tank. The damage is extensive, but his will is passable, so I assume he will make a full recovery before the week has had a chance to conclude." Then her attentions drift back to the person threatening her and she shuffles closer in her crouching, her gloved hand coming to rest at his chest, "Oh, my sweet little lamb..." She coos, pressing against his flesh with just enough pressure to make it hurt all the more. "Continue," Her pale lips quirk in a vague and wholly disquietting smile, "And we shall see who's handling who's organs by the end of the evening, and enjoying a fine vintage all the while." Her brows lift, "I'm fully stocked, and absolutely ravenous." Her fingers drum there before the pressure is released and her hand moves for the table that's rolled near. "Would you like something to bite down on?" She questions, "This is going to hurt."

"I...thank you," Syrus offers back to Erisi, dipping his head to her in gratitude. Comfort should never be the goal, but it is appreciated. Finally settling down a little bit, Syrus stands up straight once more and casts a look down to Sebek. He doesn't feel anything. Is this what Erisi was talking about earlier? Could a switch have been flipped so quickly? Or was it simply that the Falleen Knight deserved what he got? Syrus shakes his head clear of thoughts that are best reserved for another time.

"I suppose I should leave you to it, then," the Kiffar offers down to the doctor before he begins to step towards the door, fully expecting to be shot at anyway, despite Erisi's orders.

That is exactly what Eri was talking about. And no doubt they'll discuss it later. Tomorrow. The day after. "No pain medication for him, no dulling, nothing to bite down on save for his own flesh, Jacali." Erisi states as she begins to follow Syrus out, though she stops beside Sebek, looking down at the enraged and crimson alien, "You have to learn to embrace the pain, turn it from something that holds you back into that which propels you. It's a fantasy of your body, nothing more, and one you can crush. In time." Said softly, but with conviction, "But you must endure it to do so." A slight tilt of her chin, corners of her mouth upticking. She believes in you, Sebek. Syrus will find that he is not stopped, at least not from going to areas Erisi dictated. Free to wander, free to be. Though he will be watched with suspicion and anger, but not likely a state he isn't used to being in when treading in the enemies territory, "Find me later, Syrus. Observation lounge. To continue our discussion." Called out after Syrus as he leaves the cells, making that uncomfortable walk through security where he'll be escorted to the right level and set free.

"Obedience, She Who Ignites," were the grunted words from the fallen Falleen. "Come then, She Who Vexes," was the dripping venom directed straight at the doctor from Sebek. "Show me what passes for fury amongst your misbegotten kind." Ah, hated enemy. Worthy? In time. But for now, hatred would persist. This lesson was not one Sebek was going to enjoy, because it was inflicted upon him, not by him. He had to accept it. But he didn't have to like it.