Two towering, tinted, transparisteel doors slide open to grant you access to the central chamber of the Combat Training Halls. The main room is wide and open and as large as as a holoball field. Tall walls stretch towards a domed ceiling that is made up of rows of ambient lights that spread out and fill the room with soft even lighting that eliminates any shades or shadows. Those same walls are lined around the perimeter with racks and stacks of varied weaponry: everything from swords and polearms to rifles and flamethrowers.

There are two signs that hover over each weapon rack to create an alternating motif in the Combat Training Hall: “No Explosions” and “Accorded Neutral Territory”. While the first is fairly obvious, the second speaks to the single law of the Training Halls: all members of the Brotherhood are welcome, and no member is to be killed or maimed without incurring the wrath of the Grand Master and the Inquisitori.

A trio of training dummies are statically set up and spread out in a line, each made out of a blend of alloys and padding that can withstand blows from any standard weaponry with the exception of lightsaber blades. To the side of the dummies, a large sparring mat has been stretched out to create a larger footprint than the typical shockboxing ring. The padding is good for helping teach new combat students how to take a fall without injury and offers firm footing, but the hard rubber mat is hardly forgiving.

Behind the sparring area is a door that leads to a small archives that combat students can use to view holorecordings of fights and duels from the past as well as relevant information on combat tactics, techniques, and forms. On the opposite side of the archives at the far end of central room is the locker room that members can safely store their equipment.

The final and probably most important element of the Combat Training Hall is the onsite Med Ward. The maglock door is sealed off and can only be opened by an attending Medic. The Medical facilities feature state of the art bacta tanks for recovery and aftercare. A combination of observation and waiting room rests adjacent to the recovery center and features two large monitors that display a live feed of the central room.

The Combat Halls are staffed around the clock, allowing combat students and mentors alike to come and go as they please at odd or regular hours. It also reserved for members looking to prove their worth to compete in the Antei Combat Center.

[Venue Note: Weapons incorporated into your match are allowed to be used, even if not listed on your Weapon Load Out for the match itself. Skill usage and all other ACC rules and guidelines still applies.]

A shrill, bloodcurdling scream exploded through the hall.

Whimpers and shouts followed it, and then someone yelled, "WE NEED A DOCTOR! PLEASE! IS ANYONE HERE A DOCTOR?"

Rhylance paused in his stride, cocking his head to the side infinitesimally. The cry resounded again, and, curious, he pivoted in place and walked back down the hall to the entrance of the combat center that he had previously bypassed. His perfunctory steps echoed with a clack, clack, clack in the empty corridor.

Inside the well-lit gymnasium was quite the scene. Daily wear and tear was obvious in various scorch marks and dry blood splatters that the evening cleaners had yet to remove. One of the training dummies was broken. The room was nearly empty, save a pair of figures in the middle of the mats. A woman was crouching over a man, her hands flitting and flapping about in panic while her companion wheezed and sobbed.

"Oh, sir! Please, please, help, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" the woman broke off, turning wide, weeping eyes to the Chiss in the doorway. "It, it just happened so fast, I- I didn't mean to hurt him, it's all so new, I'm so, so, sorry, please, can you? Can someone? He needs help! Oh, gods!"

Why the on-site medic wasn't already on this, the Taldryanite didn't know; base incompetence, perhaps. Regardless, he wasn't about to let such an opportunity entirely go to waste. The inconvenience would only be minor, and his "patient" might be worth examining.

Primly, the Consul approached the pair, scarlet gaze quickly taking in the Human woman's reddened cheeks and nose, her tears, her panic; she looked to be on the verge of shock. Her sparring partner was a gangly Gand who held his knee in both hands and spar a continuous stream of curses.

Compound fracture of tibia. Spiral fracture to fibula. Torn ligaments in the knee? Need x-rays. Damage likely permanent without bacta treatment and physical therapy, thought the surgeon with detached clarity, eyes flickering over the swelling flesh as he knelt close. Accidental? That is quite the major "accident."

He glanced briefly around. There were no free weights scattered nearby, so it was unlikely they had mishandled equipment to get such a result. No weaponry on either of their persons at the moment.

Scarred hands grabbed one of his, clinging and white-knuckled. He turned his attention back to the woman.

"Please. I didn't mean to, it's only my f-first day training, my M-Master...oh he'll be so angry." There was guilt in her expression, certainly, but the fear was so strong he could practically smell its stink in her perspirant. "C-can you help? Pl-please…"

"Ma'am, please calm your hysterics. It will do neither you nor this man any good, and only impede me."

Rhylance removed her grip none too gently and went about further inspecting the Gand, who had moved on to spouting all sorts of insults directed at the Human. She shrunk back with each word. The Chiss ignored them, pulling off his medical backpack, crimson sight fixed on the white splinters of bone peeking out from orange skin and carapace, trimmed in pink where it stretched taut and clung. Warm, white globules of fat budded around the cartilaginous edges. He swiped at one with a gloved finger.

The surgeon sprayed disinfectant over the open wounds and decided that he was going to have to operate to reset this particular break. Perhaps find a staff medic and move to the medical theater. Before he could commence a search, however, the maglock door to the infirmary was gaping open, and out came a uniformed man and his medical droid.

"Out of the way, out of the way," commanded the medic, waving Rhylance and the woman back. The Chiss went smoothly, the woman stumbling and shaking from head to toe. She gripped at his arm with trembling fingers, and he allowed it, quirking a slim brow at her. They watched as the Gand was carried off on a hovering stretcher, and the training room fell into sudden, blessed quiet.

It lasted approximately four heartbeats before the woman broke it.

"I'm, I'm s-sorry," she whimpered into his sleeve, ducking her head there. Idly, the Chiss hoped she would not snot all over it; the black fabric showed everything. "I, I really didn't mean to hurt him so bad, it was just supposed to be a, a knockdown, like my Master told me to practice, I didn't mean to mess up, I'm sorry," she babbled.

"I do not know why you are wasting breath on apologies to an unaffiliated party," Rhylance commented, tugging at his arm lightly, but she wasn't letting go. "Are you injured?"

"N-no, I'm okay, I'm sor—" she cut herself off, looking sheepish, with a blush and all as she hugged his limb to her body. "Thank you. For coming to help and, and checking on me, Doctor...um…"

"Rhylance," introduced the Chiss smoothly. "But I believe you already know that, do you not, Satsi Tameike?"

The woman's red-cheeked, wide-eyed look of ardor evaporated like ice under the Tatooine sun. Before he could react, her grip had changed, tightening to painful and twisting at the joint of his elbow. If he moved too much, he knew, it would dislocate.

"It was worth a shot. Folks eat up the classics...damsel in distress, revenge scheme, oh, favorite around here, the whole 'I am a sparky and so now you must die.'" Her almond eyes, hard and calculating now, narrowed. "How did you know who I was?"

"I admit that detailed information about yourself is slow to circulate, but one does not go without knowing another Clan's new Consul, Tameike. I would be in a very poor position myself if I could not gather the information I needed." He smiled at her, pointed and as cold as her own gaze. "And you know of me, so let us not pretend you don't adhere to the same principles.

"Docrh'ylanc'ehause," she said by way of answer, surprisingly smoothly for a non-Chiss. Only a stumble or two. "That's a mouthful, even for me."

They glared at one another, like like lone manka cats run afoul of the other's territory. All the scene was missing was raised haunches and growling, perhaps some circling, but they were both far too practiced for that.

Rhylance flexed his muscles experimentally. Satsi's fingers only tightened, enough to make the nerve in his right arm go painfully numb and cause the breath to hiss out of him.

"I am curious, I admit. How did you get the medic to play along?"

"Creds grease wheels… or convince folk to take an extra few minutes responding to calls."

"And the Gand?"

"Oh, he wasn't playing — he just picked a really bad day to come get some practice in. Made for a good distraction though. Where did I lose you?"

"I didn't recognize you initially, but once I had a good look, it was over. If it had not been for that, I had my suspicions when I examined the man's wound. That certainly wasn't an accident."

The Arconan shrugged one shoulder. "I had to press pretty damn hard to get through that exoskeleton, and momentum did the rest. Not my finest work by half, but hey, you'd already walked by and I didn't wanna lose my chance."

"I'm flattered to have your attention so keenly."

"You should b—"

Rhylance jerked his free hand, which he had slowly been inching towards his coat, forward. The finely-sharpened blade of the scalpel slipped into his fellow Consul's thigh like it was warm butter, no catch on the edges, not even a knick. He saw in her expression the moment the small, sharp pain came, not even noticeable at first.

The impressive muscle around the blade spasmed and the Chiss jerked away when his captor's hold adjusted briefly. Satsi snarled, leg twitching, hand going to the wound as blood darkened the fabric of her exercise clothing.

Red-stained fingers swiped over her lips as she spat at him, "You're gonna pay for that, you...you…"

Her knee buckled. Surprise widened her eyes. She stared down at her own limb like it had betrayed her, then glared back up at him as her other leg gave out, catching herself on the mats.

The woman growled, and Rhylance's lips twisted up in a smirk, watching, waiting. She tried to stand again, hand curled around the blade, wobbled, then slowly sank low. It took a minute or two, but eventually she slumped over completely, and only then did the Chiss carefully approach.

He crouched down, reaching out, and jabbed the scalpel in deeper, just to be certain; she didn't make a sound, hardly even twitched. Her eyes were open though, fixed on him, aware and angry. He patted her cheek, then drew another scalpel.

"I've heard about you. About your novel cybernetic array, your endurance...tell me, are the two related? Does this design augment your physical capabilities, as those of the Collective do? Where did yours come from? Who performed the engineering, the implantation?"

His fingers tapped carefully down her back as he rolled the woman more fully onto her side, eyes measuring the sinuous, segmented metal that stretched down it, assessing the nodes, the ports, the small filaments he could see spreading in pantomime of nerves just under her damaged skin.

Sats groaned at him, managing to make it sound surprisingly spiteful. The surgeon snorted, extending a steady forearm to make a simple, straight incision at the base of her cybernetic spine. "I'll just be taking a small sample, to start with. Perhaps at a later date, you can display its uses, and we can get scans for the schematics. I believe you'll find yourself rather willing in the interest of science, no?"

Rhylance completed his first cut, twisting to start a horizontal one and continuing his narration, mainly to himself.

"Patient seems to, as reported by agent, have a complete replacement — I cannot feel any vertebrae underneath or around the design, and it encompasses the entirety of the cervical, thoracic, lumbar, sacral, and coccyx areas—"

Pain and pressure blossomed against his neck and he choked, falling back and gasping.

Red eyes wide as he gagged and struggled for breath, clutching at his windpipe, the Chiss barely had time to process as the Human surged to her feet, yanked the blade out of her leg, and tossed it aside. She'd punched him in the throat. But how?

The surprise on his face as he gasped — it was so hard to breathe, had she splintered his trachea? His mind raced, fighting a surge of numbing adrenaline — must have shown, because she curled her lip at him as she stepped over his body and placed a foot on his chest. Blood ran freely down the front and back of her leg from the weeping cuts, dripping onto his robes.

"I know what frinka venom smells like, motherfrakker," snarled the woman. "Even mixed with whatever the hell else you've got on that knife. You might be playin' doctor, but nobody ever said I was done playin' either."

Then, she pistoned a chambered knee directly at his face.

Pain erupted in Rylance's chin, the sheer force of the woman’s knee nearly breaking his teeth. He had tried to evade the strike but couldn’t move fast enough. Such a maneuver would have been difficult at his best, and here he was with little to no breath. The Chiss fell onto his back, and Satsi left no quarter. Clamoring a top her fellow Consul the Arconan began pummeling her prey.

Rhylance felt every fist connect. His chest, his shoulder, and especially his face, ached with a more intense pain than he could remember in his near history. Blood oozed from his split lip, and his right eye swelled from the bruising that was already taking effect. There was no chance for the Chiss to escape this beating he was receiving. His throat stung from the earlier impact even if he could finally catch his breath.

He made an attempt to reach for his blaster on his waist. Unfortunately, as he grasped the grip of the weapon, Satsi noticed and grabbed his wrist in a strong embrace. She squeezed hard causing the Chiss to release his hold on the gun before punching him in his face once again. He spat blood as the inside of his mouth cut on his teeth.

“Now that was a dirty trick on your part, frakker. I’m gonna beat the everloving shit out of you, and you wanna know why? Cause you laid your dirty blue hands on my property,” Satsi spit on the medic’s face as she spoke.

Rhylance was surprised by the woman’s reasoning. He had to figure out a way out of this situation, but through all of the pain wracking his body, he just couldn’t think properly. He needed to buy some time so he tried to speak, managing to choke out very little.

“Y...your...pro...per...ty?” opening his eyes, or rather, his one unswollen eye, in faux bewilderment the Taldryanite wanted to get her talking.

“You put one of your frakken brain chips in one of my girls’ head, you karkin idiot. I don’t even care if it was that piece of trash Lucine. She belongs to me, and you touched her. Now I gotta hurt you.”

Satsi raised a fist and swung, this time directly into the Chiss’s mouth. He felt one of his teeth crack under the pressure of the blow and the taste of iron again flooded his tongue. Turning his face back to the woman on top of him, he spat blood at her, red splattering against her face.

“Oh, you mother karkin frak-face. You’re gonna pay for that one,” the Consul used her free hand to pull a knife out of her boot. “I’m gonna carve my name into your pretty face so you’ll always remember who you royally pissed off.”

While Satsi spoke and ran the flat of the blade on his face, Rhylance managed to grab hold of his own dagger. Using the distraction that was evident on her own visage, the medic swiped the blade at Satsi, catching her arm and nearly slashing her face. The Arconan managed to push herself backward as the blade came close to her skin, blood ran down her newest laceration. As she leaned to the rear, she let go of Rylance's right hand. He pulled his legs out from under her and kicked them into her chest as hard as he could, knocking her back.

Free from the woman’s embrace, the Chiss rolled away, trying to ignore the pain in his face and chest. He landed on his knees and began looking in his bloodied overcoat, searching for his canisters of bacta. He found them and took two of the three small tanks before injecting one into his chest, and the other into his neck. Instantly, a cooling sensation warped his pain receptors into submission. The feeling wouldn’t last long, but for the moment he didn't care. His left eye was swollen almost completely shut and he couldn’t lose the taste of blood in his mouth.

I picked a hell of a day to check on my new recruits’ progress, Rhylance thought to himself as he dropped the dagger and pulled out his blaster. Next time I just let the useless whelps in this room die.

His hands were shaky and his vision impeded as he tried to aim the blaster at the Arconan who addressed the new cut in her arm.

“You are going to let me leave, Tameiki, or I will kill you here and now. I know of twenty-four different points on your body that can cause instant and painful death. I am not afraid to use that knowledge.”

“So you can play too, I’m impressed, blue man,” Satsi truly looked like she was enjoying herself and the pain she was causing him. “As for your little threat; are you frakken kiddin me? You couldn’t hit me if I was two meters away from you. Your hands won't stop shakin and you have little to no depth perception now. But you know what; go ahead and try. It’ll amuse me.”

Rhylance slowly started backing away towards the exit, his aim on Satsi who’s blood speckled face simply grinned. She began walking towards the Chiss—who’s free hand snaked its way into his coat—her dagger still firmly in her grasp.

“Don’t be scared Rhylance, I ain't gonna kill ya. I’m just gonna make sure that you get it through your frakken head not to mess with what’s mine!” and with that Satsi charged forward.

Rhylance pulled the trigger as he hobbled towards the door, but his wounds had his aim way off and the shots went wild, sailing past the Arconan with no hopes of impacting her flesh. As she closed the gap between them, one shot came centimeters from hitting her shoulder, but she moved out of the way just in time. Unfortunately for her, it gave the Chiss just enough time to pull out a vial filled with a metallic blue liquid from a small metal case in his jacket near his waist.

Satsi stepped within two feet of Rhylance and slashed her dagger towards his chest, catching his right shoulder as he leaned back trying to evade the blade. As the dagger tore into his skin the Chiss winced in pain and dropped the vial in between the two of them. Upon colliding with the hard floor, the liquid ignited in a flash of fire before dissipating into a mist. Being the toxin’s creator, Rhylance had made sure he wouldn’t be affected by the gas, but Satsi was not so lucky as she breathed the hallucinogenic compound in.

“Now, Satsi, it is your turn to experience true fear.”

Her nostrils and throat burned.

Satsi gagged and darted backwards, arm covering her mouth and nose as her eyes welled and watered. Her mind raced, and she would have spat a curse if she could have. Was the gas a paralytic, a nerve toxin? Blood poison? Something to turn her lungs to acid? Kark, kark, KARK!

As she watched, crouched there on the mats, Rhylance's beaten and bloody figure warped, nose and cheekbones melting as if to slough off, eyes rolling back and falling out of their sockets, snapped nerves dangling out the gaping holes.

And they regrew, became familiar, so familiar her heart stuttered then started up again, racing so hard it would surely explode out of its thin, bony cage from the strain. So familiar her breath caught and froze and a ringing rose in her ears and she couldn't breathe Tall, imposing, and with a gaze that could cut glass, features strong and pronounced but aristocratic in their shape. Deathly pale skin, silky mane of pure white hair, red eyes and his cybernetic weaves and nodes adorning him like cloak and crown.

It was the face of her nightmares. Of her past. It was the face that had almost made her whole, had almost fit but had not. A piece that had had to break her and fray her and twist her before it could fit in the wounds it made. She had not been meant for him. He had not been Heart.

But he had been a heart, and when he had cut her open and ripped her ribcage gaping wide, she had listened to the wet, sick cracks and let him nest in her breast like a worm, like a tumor. She had let him eat her alive. Because he was pain and horror, but had he smiled at her. And she'd forgotten so many things.

It was the face of the man that beat her baby out of her, that ripped out her spine and replaced it with his strings, that filled her body with his and with chemicals and crystals until she was as perfectly posable and pretty as an embalmed corpse ready and willing for him to use. It was the face of the man that took and took and took no matter how hard she fought or screamed or begged no no no.

Jashin.

And it wasn't even his presence that broke her, no; it was the toddler he held by one hand, wobbling next to him on her little, boo-boo covered legs with a bandage on her knee and a butterfly dress tied with a bow. It was Satsi's little girl, her Samantha, with her raisin-squinty eyes and bread roll arms and big, two-toothed smile.

He had her goddamn daughter.

"My Lord," she croaked, not out of anything willful but out of habit so burned into her that no amount of distance or hatred or healing was likely to ever expunge it. Then, stronger, words she meant with every piece of her she had: "Get away from her, you sonuvabitch."

But she knew better, she knew better. He was dead. He was dead. He was dead, dead, dead, she'd ripped him apart herself. Sammy was fine this time, she was, he didn't have her, she was home, she was with Uji. She was with Uji. Uji. Her Uji. He was okay. Sammy was okay.

"Not real, not real," Satsi muttered, chanted, but it didn't go away. That wasn't new, though; her nightmares never went away. He was always there, out of the corner of her eye, just out of sight but forever stalking — red eyes and silver hair and sibilant smile.

She would never be without him inside of her because he'd made her. She could never get away.

Satsi dug her nails into her scalp, fisting chunks of hair between her fingers, and pulled. Small tangles of strands riiiipped free, taking spots of skin and smatters of blood with them. She tossed them aside and scratched at the raw areas left, digging her nails in until she felt the catch of skin dragging and then burrowing deeper, scratching, scratching. The pain was so sharp and bright, right at the surface, that it made her nerves all scream and her muscles lock, and she kept scratching, until her fingertips grew sticky and she felt a dribble of dampness behind her ear.

The pain was bright and sharp and clean. It was here. It was now. It was real, and it was her choice.

He wasn't real. It wasn't real.

She hissed in a breath, clasping her skull, and glared at Rhylance-turned-phantom with tears wet on her cheeks.

It wasn't real. And there were incongruities too. He opened his mouth, and a voice mostly Rhylance's came out, mildly distorted, like talking underwater. The figure said, "Yes, it's me, my sweet Satsi. Come. Bow to me. Bow to your lord." It was an attempt, but it was all wrong. Jashin didn't sound like that, didn't speak like that, didn't call her that.

She thought: it's Rhylance, and you're on Arx. Jashin is dead.

She thought: Sammy's safe. We read a holo about tooka kittens and a leaf together this morning.

She thought: be sure anyway. Shoot him. Shoot him frakking dead. Headshot, headshot, center mass.

She thought: if Sammy is not with him and he is dead then it's just you and the Chiss and you did not come here to kill him, you came for collection.

It was just a hallucinogen, maybe something stimulating to jack up her heart rate and pump her full of more adrenaline than she'd know what to do with; but she'd had trips like it and worse. She was just seeing what her brain decided to spit up, all soaked in its own fight-run-go cocktail. She had to focus. It wasn't the visions she was fighting, it was the drugs pumping through her system and frakking up her body. Rhylance was right there, Rhylance, blaster still pointed at her, smartly keeping his distance.

"You're not him," she rasped, a laugh that couldn't quite squeeze past the constricted folds of her throat. "You're playin' dress up at bein' a monster, kid. You don't know what real monsters are. You don't know fear, you little karker."

"You are again mistaken, Tameike. But, it was worth a trial. And worth the observations. Tell me, what are you experiencing? What is it you so fear? Are you seeing visual hallucinations? Auditory? Any tactile sensations? Perhaps sense memory or phantom pains?"

A thousand responses jumped to her tongue, but she was too furious to speak anymore. All she could think was, how frakking dare he?

Satsi's limbs had stopped shaking, and the stillness they carried then was the tension of a coiled spring about to let go. She felt her face broaden into what couldn't possibly look like a friendly smile, curled her fists, and launched herself at the Chiss with an anger so bright it felt almost like joy.

The blaster went off, plasma screaming, but even when she felt the stings she didn't care; her body and his tangled, bowling over and writhing on the ground as she tried to get her arms around him. The Chiss was damn slippery, though, even injured, twisting and pinching at her shoulder nerves to make one arm go numb for a second when she got it around him. He kicked away, trying to scramble for the entrance, and she caught his ankle, yanking him back, crawling over top of him.

Satsi shook sensation back into both limbs and straddled the other Consul even as his battered arm lifted his pistol again. She lunged, trying to knock it out of his hands, and struggled to pin him fully even as he writhed and yanked out of her grip, clutching the weapon for dear life.

Snarling, Satsi reached for her belt instead of for his flailing hands, hefting a grenade. She activated the thermal detonator and held it tightly in hand for him to see, clinging to his chest like a parasite, grip hard enough to purple his indigo skin. The device beeped away.

"What are you doing with that?" Rhylance asked, sounding strained for control.

"Burning this motherfrakker to the ground."

"There are no explosions permitted here," snapped the Chiss. His gun hand wavered.

"Because we both care so much about the rules!" Her laugh bordered on hysterical, and she was only effecting half of it. She felt loose in her skin, like something in her spine had snapped free and now she was slipping and grinding inside her own body, just a bit out of place, just a bit unhinged.

It'd been awhile.

"You will kill us both! Or the least, cripple us both and draw the ire of the peacekeepers."

"So?" Satsi practically sang, cackling again, genuine. She was hanging by a precious thread. Such a little tiny thread. Sammy didn't need her to have all of her fingers, now did she? "Is that supposed to stop me?! Oh, Doc, you're cute! Oh, oh, oh, oh don'tchya know? I'm a pretty little psycho!"

Rhylance was looking sufficiently perturbed by now. Good. He should have gotten the memo from Lucine anyway. Satsi wasn't frakking okay. The monster in her was caged by frail and fragile bars, by a little girl, and he'd gone and blown the door open.

The grenade began ticking more rapidly, warning of impending doom.

"Stop it, or I will," spat the Chiss, and Satsi laughed at him.

"You can't. Keyed to user."

"Stop it!"

"No."

"Tameike, this is foolish."

"DON'T CARE, PRETTY EYES."

The doctor muttered something about some dude and his theories on the speed of light before swearing, "What do you want?"

"I want you to know how bad you frakked up," cooed the Human, leaning in close. She kissed him full on, open-mouthed and filthy, tongue pressing in deep before he could even swallow a breath. Words whispered again his lips after a long moment of disgust, "I want you to really, really know it."

"I concede."

"Do you really?"

"Yes!"

He sounded sincerely panicked, eyes fixated on the bomb. Satsi considered him. Panting, bloody, pale and sweaty. Blown pupils, shudders. Staring at the bomb. He believed her. She smiled, forced herself to breathe, to back away from the ledge, and deactivated the grenade, silencing it.

His eyes flickered downward.

Something slid into her side. It was just a poke, firm but not uncomfortable. She blinked in confusion and glanced down. Trembling blue fingers were knotted almost to white around a scalpel handle, the blade lodged at an angle inside her. The scientist's normally deathly still hand shook with fatigue, hurt, and maybe even real terror, jostling the knife.

And then the pain came.

The wickedly sharp blade ground cold against bone and metal where her ribs had been replaced. She gasped shallowly, dropped what she held, grabbed for his wrist. The pain was terribly icy, spearing through her and radiating through her chest, but she growled and pulled. In one fierce heave, the woman forced the doctor's arm back with a sick, sharp snap of cracking bone and the slow rasp of peeling cartilage, wrenching the scalpel out of her. Blood splattered the mats once more, and Rhylance screamed, the wail only worsening when Satsi twisted, rotating his forearm and grinding together the snapped ends of his elbow joint.

"What's that called anyway, huh, Doctor? This bit here, them bones. They got fancy names, right?" She pressed in again to emphasize her meaning, and saw his red eyes roll back. Pity. She hadn't wanted him to black out for this. "Aww, what, don't like being the one asked questions? You just good for digging in people's' heads and dissectin' them, huh? Well not me, karker. And not Lucine, or anybody under my call ever again."

The Chiss seemed to resurface when she shook him, agony too much to ignore but too much for lucidity. His gaze was muzzy as he looked back at her, face twisted, words cracked. "S-stop," he hissed.

Satsi's fingers were getting cold. He might not have actually severed some important artery to her heart like he wanted to, but he'd nicked something. Her front was slick with blood. She needed to...do something. Take care of it, probably. Go home. See her family.

But Shadows, was it hard to focus on that right now. Especially when she could just hurt this frakker some more.

The woman shook herself, slumped, tried to cover it up as intentional by muttering into the Chiss' ear. "Alright, let's say you've learned real good now...if you get bored over on your corner, sugah, come find me. I was serious when I called for a doctor. We're a... Little short as of late. I could use somebody with a little more sanity and a lot fewer morals heading our surgical wing."

She dragged herself upright and smiled, all teeth, like a vornskr with its jaw unhinged.

Then, she dropped him flat to enjoy passing out, tottered to her feet, and staggered a few feet towards the exit before collapsing herself.

Satsi coughed as the mist burned her throat and nasal passages. Her sinuses were on fire, and her eyes began to water. She squinted and blinked, trying the clear her blurred vision. The Chiss on the ground stood slowly as blood seeped from the newest wound on his right shoulder. The smell of the sticky red substance permeated the training room, both from her wounds and his. The Arconan could still feel the wetness of her blood soaked leg, as well as the stinging pain in her back where she had allowed him to carve into her.

Stepping forward, her dagger still in her grasp, Satsi wiped the tears from her eyes. Reaching out, she grabbed Rhylance by the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer to her.

“What the frak did you do to me?” she seethed, but the Chiss simply laughed.

“I must say, Satsi, I’m impressed by your immunity to my toxins. It is truly remarkable that you were unaffected by my paralytic poison. You didn’t even notice the first hallucinogenic that entered into your bloodstream when I cut into your back. It didn’t even phase you, so I’ll have to make those stronger. The substances you must have exposed yourself to build up such a fortified resistance; I must know what you did. I’ll have to retrieve a sample for testing.” Rhylance’s red eyes burned into her gaze with an intense desire. He wanted her to suffer.

“I hope you enjoy my newest creation. This gaseous toxin is attacking the nerve centers in your brain that respond to fear. I specifically created it to be stronger than most hallucinogens. I am looking forward to witnessing how it affects you.”

Fury burning in her eyes, Satsi buried her dagger into Rhylance's abdomen. Pain shot through the Chiss as the blade slid perfectly into place. Years of medical training kicked in as the doctor hissed through the strenuous agony. He was able to deduce with the placement of the blade that there was a seventy-five percent chance his liver or some of this intestinal tract had been damaged. If he was lucky, only a slight graze would have to be dealt with. Regardless, this needed to be dealt with, and fast.

If I don't leave soon, the chances of bleeding out will be too high, he thought to himself, though he was careful to show little concern for the wound on his face.

“Your aim must be off Satsi, if you were trying to kill me that is.”

Satsi could feel the stickiness of the Chiss's blood as it flowed around the knife blade and onto her hand. She began to shake and her sight blurred. Her built up resistance to toxins had kept her strong, but she could feel her strength fading.

Unable to hold him anymore, the Shadow Lady dropped the Chiss to the ground and pulled her blade free from his flesh, causing him to bleed faster. But she couldn't see him anymore. Her sight began to reopen to her, but instead of seeing a training area, Satsi found herself standing in a familiar but very different location.

“What the frak? Where in the blazes…?”

Looking around, she found herself surrounded by a city larger than any in the Dajorra System. Buildings taller than one would think possible towered over her. She was on her home planet of Coruscant and in front of her was a familiar looking door.

“It...it can't be…” she said to herself. As she walked towards the door, it slowly swung open. Inside was the remains of her childhood home. The place where she was abandoned. A house of remarkable loneliness. She stepped through the dilapidated rooms until she heard what sounded like a low sobbing.

This isn't real, Satsi chanted in her mind, That Chiss did something to me.

The Consul entered what she remembered to be her childhood room and in the middle of the floor sat a man who bore a remarkable resemblance to her. In his arms lay a tiny unmoving body. Her breath caught in her throat; Satsi was both relieved and unnerved.

“Uji? Kyodai, is that you?” she was filled with relief upon the realization that her twin was with her. In the back of her mind, she knew this wasn’t real, but he was there. Confusion spread through her like wildfire.

Satsi took a few steps forward to see his face. Tears streamed from his eyes as quiet sobs escaped his mouth. She followed his eyes to the child in his arms. This was her family, her only solace in this universe filled with pain and despair. But why was Uji crying?

“Butterfly; she’s asleep, Kyodai. Why are you crying like this?” Satsi reached forward to move a stray hair from the young girls face, but the sensation against her finger was an unexpected one. Cold; an icy numbingness that chilled the Arconan Consul to her core. “Butterfly? Why aren’t you breathing? Why is she so still Uji?” Satsi could feel the tears burning at the corners of her eyes. Her heart rate spiked as dread filled her to the brim, fear overflowing through her synapses. “Uji—Kyodai she’s asleep isn’t she?”

It felt like hours had passed before his voice registered an answer. It wasn’t the voice she had found after years of separation though. His was cold, filled with malice and disdain.

“This is all because of you!” Uji snarled at the surprised Satsi. “You brought this onto her, onto my daughter! I should have never found you! I wish you had rotted with him, forever chained to his service. You’ve been nothing but a disappointment and a blight on my life!”

This isn’t real...this isn’t real...this isn’t real… Satsi chanted in her mind, but she couldn’t ignore the impact his words had on her psyche. She knew that this was the frakken Chiss’s toxin at work, but it did nothing to numb the pain she was in.

“I want you gone, Satsi.”

“Kyodai please-”

“No! I am no longer you’re Kyodai, and you were never my Shimai!”

As his fury left his lips his face began to crack apart. To the horror of the Consul, her beloved family broke away, shattering like glass. The room around her began to loudly twist and shift. The noise was nearly deafening as the house creaked and moaned from the distorting force around it.

“Stop! Just stop this!” But no matter how loud she shouted the destruction overpowered her voice. “Why is this happening?”

“Because Satsi, you failed,” a calming voice resounded the air, breaking through the deafening noise. The shifting room had dissipated, turning into a calm field of grass.

“That voice…” the Arconan turned to face an old friend. Her white hair and bandage-covered eyes sharply contrasted with her deeply tanned skin. A bluish hue surrounded the Consul Atyiru. “Pigtails, is that you?”

“Satsi, I left you to carry on in my place. You were to lead the Clan to a new era of prosperity. But in the end, all you know is destruction and death. You were the wrong choice for Arcona. I’m sorry I put you in this position, my friend, but what came after is on you.”

“Atty I don’t understand. Why would you say that to me?” It doesn’t matter Satsi, it isn’t real! The Consul’s mind fought against the images in front of her, but the fear and loathing wouldn’t cease.

“Because as it turns out the only thing you are good for…” the blue visage of Atty faded away before she could finish.

Sasti looked on in surprise and relief. Maybe the toxin was finally wearing off. As she took a deep breath the only thoughts in her mind were how she would return the favor of this torture to that frakken Rhylance.

“...is being my doll.”

Familiar arms encircled Satsi as the voice registered in her mind. Her eyes grew wide with renewed terror as she was grabbed roughly by him.

“Don’t worry baby doll, Jashin has found you after all this time, and I’m never gonna let you go again,” the man said as he kissed her neck.

And then she screamed.

…

Rhylance watched the Consul as she faltered backward, dropping the dagger she had impaled him with. Blood soaked his coat and he knew he needed immediate attention. Regardless of where the blade went, he was in trouble. Pressing his chest, he activated the bacta injections built into the coat he wore. Though he could feel the cooling liquid enter his body, he knew that it wouldn't be enough. Even with all of the bacta he had on-hand, immediate medical attention was a necessity.

As Satsi walked around in a daze muttering about an Uji and a Sammy, Rhylance crawled over to the metal canister that held the bacta he had used earlier. There was still one more injection in it, and the Chiss shot the substance into the wound on his abdomen.

Now I just need to get to my bag, he thought waited for the blue bacta do its job.

“Could I get...a medic in here?” he yelled out hoarsley, his throat still injured as he laid on the ground trying to catch his breath. The longer he stayed still, the better off he would be right now. Unfortunately, his disdain for this harlot who attacked him was overpowering his good sense. He watched her stumble around as tears fell from her eyes. And then the screaming, oh he loved the sound of her screams. His toxin worked wonders. It gave Rhylance a sense of pride knowing the sheer agony he was causing her.

Looking around, he saw his blaster not far from where he lay, as well as his medical bag. Blaster first, he thought to himself. He crawled toward it, as pain wracked his abdomen. The Chiss took hold of the blaster, adjusted the setting, and aimed the barrel at the Arconan. Grinning, he pulled the trigger and blue rings of energy shot out, colliding with Satsi. She crumpled to the floor, no longer screaming but still trapped in her nightmares.

Rhylance could feel himself growing tired. He’d lost quite a lot of blood by this point. Pulling himself to his medical bag, he dug through it as his head grew fuzzy. After a few moments, he found the final injection of bacta contained in the pack. As his eyes grew heavy he stabbed the needle into his abdomen and let the last of the cooling blue liquid enter his body. His hand fell to the ground and his breathing grew labored. His eyesight was fading.

“We need help in here!”

The Chiss looked over to see the medic from earlier hastily moving towards him. The Taldryan Consul merely smiled and let out one more sentence before unconsciousness took him.

“Get me...to M.O.R.S.E.”