Qaela

Qaela might have been in control, but that didn't mean she was without feeling. Anger--not quite rage, but close--welled up in her once more. It was clear that he at least suspected her part in the former Grandmaster's death, but she was not ashamed of that. He said that he was willing to take her to her children unconditionally, but she wasn't so sure. It was better for her to test that now instead of later because she didn't think she would hold up very well if she allowed herself the hope of seeing them again only to have it snatched away because he found some sort of crime she had done in the past that he couldn't forgive. Best to have it all out now and either move on or die. "Kitt Fitt did not die by my hand," she said hotly, and it was not a lie though now she wish it were. "Ar-Pharazon killed him, and if he hadn't, then Sith Master Raynuk Montar would have. If those two failed, then Vigo Delta, the very one that your kind is dealing with, or another of his agents would have. I may have led the group to track him down, but he was the fool who made himself a target when he knew he was being tracked. None of us would have gone near him had he been in a Jedi Temple surrounded by allies." She shrugged and said with a little less anger and perhaps a touch of pride. "Do not feel slighted, though. I have helped bring down a Jedi Grandmaster and a Dark Lord of the Sith, though I admit I played fairly minor parts in both. I helped kill a Jedi Master, too, but it was he who attacked us--and on the steps of the Sith Temple at that. I did kill a Sith Master with help from another. Snapped his neck and nearly popped his whole head off. I didn't quite have the same amount of skill and control that I do now. Another Sith Master tried to kill me, too." She twisted sideways a bit and pointed to the most spectacular of her collections of scars where his lightsaber cut her kidney in half. "He was killed by those with me, namely Ar-Pharazon and Vigo Delta, but I can't claim much of that kill since I was disabled at its start. I also killed me a couple of lesser Sith, too. One thought he could rape and beat me without repercussions. I later flayed his skin off and melted his muscles with acid while he begged for death. It took an hour for him to die because I wouldn't let him. There was a fresh Sith Lord I managed to lull into competency and kill, but that was because he broke and humiliated one who was mine. I also planned on blowing up their cloning facilities, but that didn't work out so well. Oh well, your kind and those bumbling fools at CoreSec managed to do that for me when they destroyed the Coruscant Temple. "I have murdered others who were less notable. Most of them were common lowlifes who thought a pretty girl would make easy prey. It is most amusing to make yourself appear vulnerable to attract the predators who think they are the top of the food chain. One or two of them even got my heart racing before I killed them. There were a few of power that I took down, but that was training. Most males in this Galaxy see only a pet to put on their arm and to bed, not someone who can slit their throat. Those kind often have a good amount of money or valuables, things I found most useful once they no longer needed them." She smirked at the Jedi. "Don't look at me like that. I don't kill for the sake of killing like some. Those I kill die because they needed to die or because they attacked me or mine. You might even be able to say that most of those I kill deserve what they got. Sure, there are a few who you may call innocent, but who in this universe is truly innocent?" She thought about that a few seconds, then added, "Well, I suppose three six month old infants may be innocent, but I can't recall ever killing infants or even young children." "Oh," she said almost as if she had forgotten, "I tried to kill my mother, but a random blaster shot finished her off before I could. It was a glorious battle, though, and a lot of people on all sides died. Can't say that either side was exactly innocent, especially not in the end, but I didn't want to forget that. On that note, I guess I killed a few slaves during my training, but they don't count." Her lips spread wide into a large smile. "Now, come to think of it, you might even be able to say that I have helped the Jedi far more than I hurt them. The Sith are not kind, even to one who shares their allegiance to the darkness. There is a very good reason why I hate the Sith, but the truth is that I haven't done all that much harm to your kind, Master Jedi. On the greater scale of balance, I would say that now the Jedi are the ones who are in debt to me. What was done to me and mine is reprehensible and is more than enough for a blood feud. This Kirlocca person has grievously wronged me and by the laws of my kind, I am entirely within my rights to hunt him down and place his head on a pike. Had done what he did to me, well, that is to be expected since I am a fighter and have blood on my hands. But my children?!? They have done nothing and have no part in this feud. I have not gone after Jedi children or younglings. Even in my dreamings, I only targeted those who were fellow warriors." She crossed her arms across her chest and shook her head sadly. Her voice was bittersweet laced with regret. "No, Master Starlisk, what was done cannot be forgiven or forgotten. In my culture and many others around this Galaxy, those who knowingly shelter and protect criminals take upon themselves the guilt of the one they protect. If the Jedi Order chooses to shelter this Kirlocca, then they take the shame and guilt of his actions upon themselves. I will be coming after him, mark my words. Him and the furry Jedi on Cloud City that turned them over to him in the first place, and I am entirely within my rights to do so." Suddenly, she realized just how much she had been speaking of late, and more of what she had said. It was rare indeed that she admitted her kills to any but her own Sisters. Sure, this may have been mostly bragging, but it almost felt good to tell this Jedi of all of her past "sins." She normally didn't talk this much, but the anger and indignation of what had happened just brought it all out. She harrumphed and sat back a little to consider. "Though," she mused, "the thought of Jedi punishing their own is somewhat attractive to me. You say that you will bring this to your Council? Well, I might be able to live with that, provided he is punished properly. As the aggrieved party, I would like to be there to see that, in person if possible. It is my right to face the one who attacked my own flesh and blood. If you give me your word that this Kirlocca and the tall furry one will be brought before your Council for judgment within a month, then I will forgo any plans I may have for hunting them down."

Master Starlisk returned after all. Much to Qaela's bemusement, he didn't seem to hesitate this time upon entering and seeing her without clothing. He definitely didn't linger or waste time checking her over to...make sure she wasn't a threat. In fact, he seemed rather perturbed, or maybe it was hesitant. For normal people it wouldn't register as a blip, but for a Jedi Master though, it was not something worth noting. She was actually quite surprised that he was able to locate her children so quickly. She had expected the search to take some time, but he was fast. Despite herself, she listened to every word of his with rapt attention until he got to the last part. She was a bit confused about what he meant by "cut off from the Force" since it could mean many things. Why would he mention that, especially with the preamble that came before it. Then, the world imploded as realization hit her. Though it was very uncommon, she had heard of a most cruel spell that, when cast upon someone, permanently blocked their ability to craft spells or, as the Sith and Jedi called it, touch the Force. It was so abhorrent that very few even dared to learn it, much less use it. To do so was......unspeakable. "No," she heard herself whisper in shock. For someone to do that to her was understandable. It could be argued that she deserved such cruel punishment. But to do that to her children, infants who couldn't even talk or feed themselves? The shock did not last long, not when there were far more potent and natural emotions to draw on. "No, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO!!!" She was shrieking by the end and very nearly throwing herself on the Jedi with hands like claws. The rage flooded into her like a sweet tidal wave promising vengeance, blood, and retribution. A string of profanity in Basic, Dathomiri, Huttesse, and a few other languages poured out of her mouth as the full impact of what had happened slammed into her. Tears unbidden flowed and fists were bloodied against the bed and walls as she found herself wanting to physical pain to balance the emotional pain she was experiencing. The mere thought of her children being stripped from their birthright tore a hole in her heart that she couldn't ignore. Rage and fury consumed her, but it did not control her. A small, very small part of her brain remained rational and that small part prevented her from unleashing spell after vile spell to tear apart this room and attempt to destroy the Jedi both within and outside. Oh she wanted to drink the blood from their still beating hearts, she very much wanted to, but she didn't. The rage blackened her eyes entirely and threatened to burn her veins. If she so much as touched the Force, she knew her skin would bubble up in the blood blisters she had worked so hard to overcome. Destruction, pain, and complete annihilation were the only answers to such a grievous insult to her and her Clan, to such an outrageous action. She would need her Sisters for true revenge, and probably Sith too. Yes, Sith, they were good at fighting and had the ships and money she would need. Even the fractured clans of Nightsisters would unite against this travesty, something that nothing short of invasion could otherwise have accomplished. The Jedi had crossed the line and earned an enemy that they would rue. The Sith may be powerful, but somewhere deep down within themselves, they wanted to have something to rule. They conquered planets and killed many, but they held back in the end once their bloodlust was sated because they wanted something to rule and someone to fear and worship them. That fact alone prevented them from destroying everything. There were a few Sith who didn't care for such things, but not many. Those Sith were the most dangerous, but they were too few and their fellow Sith often kept them somewhat in check. The Nightsisters had no such desires. She had no such desires. They would burn and destroy without thought of ruling. They would tear down the metal structures and burn the unholy cities of this Galaxy without care for survivors or loot. There would be murders on the streets, death in places high and low, and destruction at every corner. A hundred of her Sisters unleashed on the Galaxy with no purpose other than to kill and destroy and nothing staying their hand would be an awesomely terrifying force to behold and she would lead them to it. That was the rage talking, whispering ever so softly and sweetly into her conscious. The rational part of her brain knew that was fancy at best. Even if there were a hundred Sisters willing to go onto a campaign of utter destruction, she knew that they would only go so far before being stopped, even if it were through sheer attrition and numbers. The planets of this Galaxy were too many, its inhabitants like grains of sand. It would take a hundred thousand Nightsisters to do what she wanted. That rational part of her told her to stop listening to the foolish rage and get into control. Slowly, ever so slowly, that rational part of her reclaimed the rest. The rage and fury were swallowed down, buried back in their rightful place where they could be used if true need arose. Now was not the time, not with them ready and expecting it. If she was going to strike out at the Jedi here, she would do it later when they were not focusing on her as much. Yes, blood could wait, death could be stalled, and revenge delayed. The Jedi had not fled and that was good. Her eyes were still dark as a black hole, but she was back in control. The rage was bottled up and her breathing steadied. She remained silent for a long time, collecting herself. The tears dried on her cheeks, but her fists were still bloodied. She would heal those later and paid them no attention now. What took her focus was the Jedi and how to address this situation. She worked her jaw back and forth a little to unclench it before speaking in an exhausted, utterly drained voice, "You were wise to tell me upfront. Had you deceived me, I would not have held back my wrath and rage. Know that I do not wish to change. I am who I am. If you can accept that, I will take your offer to go and find my the tattered remnants of my children and give them what paltry comfort I can after such a vile thing was done to them." She breathed in deeply to try to further calm herself, though she couldn't stop herself from shuddering and shaking as she exhaled. "I am not unreasonable. You spoke the truth when you suspected it may be dangerous, so I am willing to believe that you also spoke the truth about your leaders not knowing. The Jedi Order is just like my own people: fractured and full of individuals each with their own goals. This is a crime that is unspeakable, beyond what we would do even to our sworn enemies, so it must be punished. I will not abandon my oath of peace with the Jedi Order provided I have the names of all who were responsible for committing this atrocious act on my three innocent, defenseless babies."

Qaela made no attempt to cause problems when the Jedi left her cell. Why would she want to escape now? If this Jedi was truly going to help her, then she would accept it. She may be prideful, but she was not entirely stupid. Yes, she made mistakes, she was honest enough with herself to admit that, but she never considered herself particularly dull. Even if Starlisk had not intention of getting her children or was unable to accomplish the task, she would be in no worse position for being patient. She was secure, had food, and was only slightly cold though that was her own choice. The odds against her had gotten worse with the presence of the Jedi Master, but that was no different than when he entered. She might be able to talk her way out of imprisonment, but if not, then she would at least go out fighting. Better to die trying than rot in a Jedi prison forever. Until the Jedi Master brought back word or something changed, she would wait. If it became clear he was simply stalling and had no intention of returning, she would address that situation when it came.

There was doubt in the Jedi's mind, but that was to be expected. She wouldn't trust a Jedi, and certainly not a Sith. Furion might be the only exception to that, and perhaps the fool Lucifer, but none of them were to be trusted. She wouldn't trust the Jedi to keep to his word until her children were in her arms and she was away on a fast ship she had thoroughly checked for explosives or trackers. Though, if he did keep his word, she just might force him to make time enough to become a father. Having children from a powerful Sith and a prominent Jedi might prove valuable, though this time she would hole up somewhere nice and safe during pregnancy. There were plenty of Sith that wouldn't dare touch her or her children for fear of the name Lord Ar-Pharazon, but if she could keep the Jedi off her back by making unbreakable ties to one of their leaders, that would be even better. That line of thinking was pleasant enough that she actually allowed a genuine smile through, though it was brief before she shut it down and regained control. He wanted to know her name? Well, that would be a sticky issue. She wasn't entirely sure how much the Jedi knew about the demise of their last Grandmaster. If he found out she had something to do with his death, it might cause him to rethink his willingness to work with her. On the other hand, if he didn't know her name, how was she to expect him to find her children? More to the point, even if he was able to track them down, he would eventually discover her name through the hairy Jedi or even Ca'Aran himself. In that light, she really didn't have much choice. "My name is Qaela. I have no true surname, at least, none that anyone pertinent would know. My three children are not old enough to have names, but that does not mean that the ones holding them haven't given them false ones. They are triplets, two males and a female, and would be around six months old. As I said, they were last in the custody of the Vigo Delta of Cloud City, though it was my understanding that he was turning them over to a rather tall, furry Jedi Master who spoke through growls and a translator droid. He agreed to confront me over them, assuming I would attack him physically. I attempted to persuade him to return my children, but he felt himself superior because he embraced the light and denied them from me. We did not part ways in a friendly manner, through no blood was spilled."

Qaela blinked once at the Jedi's words. She had expected only the same sort of self righteous indignation from this one as she had expected from Ca'Aran and the furry Jedi. Her eyes narrowed and a frown formed on her lips as she searched for any sign of mockery or a trap. Jedi might not lie as much as Sith, but she was sure they did indeed lie when they felt it would help them. "Help me find my children," she answered, "and allow me to take them to a safe place of my own choosing. I don't care for conquering or domination, I only care for family and clan and my own ability to defend them. If you reunite my children and I and allow us to go unharmed, then I vow never to participate in any action that will cause harm to Jedi or those you claim as long as they leave me and mine alone."

Maybe he hadn't ever been with a woman. Poor man. She had found that in this Galaxy, it was the men who most often wanted physical relations, not the women like on Dathomir. It must have been so very hard for him and the other Jedi, no wonder they were so up tight. It was almost a shame that Jedi were so reserved, it meant one less weapon in her arsenal. This one might have no idea what drove her if he had never had children. He might not know even if she completely opened her mind to him--something she was not going to do. "If you are not a father, then I do not believe you can ever truly know what could drive someone to do the things they do," she said dryly. She threw a fierce glare his way and allowed as much rage, fury, and determination to well up within her that she could handle without losing control. Her voice was defiant, untamed, and full of hot fury. "I love my children, though you may not believe my kind capable of it. My children have been taken from me and I will do anything to get them back, anything. Any man, woman, or creature who holds them against me will suffer tremendously before they die, that much I vow. I have allowed myself to suffer for far too long and I say 'no more.' I will gather my children and take them to safety if I must burn and kill to do it." She bowed her head and closed her eyes in concentration to force herself to calm down. These were the very type of creatures that were keeping her children from her and it was hard not to try to lash out at them. She had control of herself for now, she could grudgingly thank Raynuk Montar for that. She didn't think that her eyes had turned black again, but they had come close. There was no mirror to see if they remained their natural brown. "The last time I was near my children, a Jedi stood in my way and refused to give them over. He was working with a Black Sun vigo on Cloud City who has gotten it into his head to turn my children over to your kind for 'protection' and so that they won't be 'corrupted' by their own mother. I offer you a chance to do what is right and save a great deal of lives. I want my children and I will make a deal with the despicable Sith themselves if that is what is needed to get them back. Your kind claims that mine are monsters, but I ask you: what kind of monster keeps a mother from the children she loves? Answer that question, Master Jedi, or this discussion is over and I will unleash my wrath upon the Jedi without holding back."

Qaela could sense someone powerful approaching and prepared herself to deal with her new interrogator. When the door rose and shut rapidly, she couldn't stop herself from smirking in satisfaction. So many in this galaxy were squeamish around flesh almost as though they themselves weren't naked beneath their clothes. The male who had been standing in the doorway seemed to be embarrassed by seeing a woman. Either that or the rumors about Jedi and not marrying were true. It was just like them to deny such an integral part of their nature. Perhaps this poor man had never seen a live woman the way nature had created her before. She could feel sympathy for him were that true, even if he were a Jedi. He reentered after a few seconds and made a point to focus on her eyes, though not before at least glancing at the rest of her. At least he didn't look at the ground and there wasn't too much embarrassment about him. These Jedi really should have gone about preventing her from using the Force. Isolation and deprivation were two of the most effective interrogation tools available, and they had done neither to her. Jedi truly were either too weak or too honorable to do what was needed with someone they clearly believed was dangerous. She recognized the man's name and wasn't sure whether to be dismayed or encouraged by it. One of their ruling leaders had apparently come all the way to this frozen waste to see her, and they didn't even know who she was yet. It made her wonder who they would have sent had they known who she was or who she had been traveling with. Probably their entire Council and half of their available Nights, though she could never quite get over the offense that they would steal a name that belonged to her kind. She gave him an icy smile remained seated on her bed. She was almost disappointed that there had been no threats or violence, but she had come to expect that in Jedi, especially with their almost pleasant treatment of her. She wondered what it would take to make him angry or frustrated enough to strike her, though on second thought, that might be too much for one of their higher Jedi. A Night she might have managed to make strike her, but not a Master. At best, she might get him to threaten her with harsh punishment. Best to answer his thinly stated questions and get the ball rolling. "You wish to know who I am? I am a mother," she said almost nonchalantly. "Though I have only traveled to a handful of planets, in each of them I have found that it is natural for a mother to love and care for her children and to sacrifice for them, often to the point of what others would call insanity. I have seen and heard stories of women who will do incredible and dangerous things when someone stands between her and her offspring. I have also heard that fathers are usually only slightly less passionate in such things. Tell me, Onderin Starlisk, are you a father?"

"Oh joy," she murmured quietly to herself. She really wasn't too eager to meet with someone quite that high, especially if it was that very same hairy creature she faced on Cloud City. That might prove to be a tad bit embarrassing, considering the state she last left him in. Even though she eventually regained control of herself, that same rage and seething hatred was still accessible to her just waiting to come out. She was in control, but that wasn't a guarantee that relapses wouldn't happen. With nothing else to do to pass the time, she opted to keep herself warm by practicing calisthenics. It had been too long since she had a good workout, though she doubted she would get one in a place as small as this. At least she could get her blood pumping and relieve some of her tension at being trapped like this. She never did well locked in a cage like this, and it would keep her warm. She wasn't regretting her decision to toss aside the wretched Jedi clothing, but light be cursed, it was a tad bit cold in here.

Qaela was glad to see the food and began eating as soon as the droid left. She didn't worry about poison or drugs. If the Jedi wanted to drug her again, they hardly needed to put something in her food to do it. The food wasn't the best, but she had eaten far worse. Even these old rations were better than brackish water and half spoiled drebbin meat, both of which she managed to survive on for four days when she was separated from her Clan as a girl. As she ate, she pondered her situation. These Jedi were obviously not going to simply release her, not without a reason. They weren't likely to ignore her, either, but would want to interrogate her and find out whatever information she may possess about the Sith. Truthfully, she knew little, but she did know a few things that could possibly get her a ticket out of here. The question, as she had pondered earlier, was whether she wanted to risk betraying the Sith once more and likely having that information get out. Sith had tried to kill her before, but that had been because they thought her an unnecessary loose end or even an annoyance, never because she was a traitor. The Sith would not take betrayal lightly, not at all. She couldn't simply sit here and rot on this frozen wasteland, either. She needed to do something, though what she wasn't so sure. There were too many variables to be considered here and more than one option. Technically, she hadn't ever actually killed any Jedi. Sure, she betrayed their foolish Grandmaster and even flew in the fight against their temple on Gala, but she didn't hit anything there. Other than that, all of her actions had been against third parties or even Sith themselves. In truth, she had caused a lot more harm to Sith than Jedi themselves and that thought brought a smile to her face. When the food was finished, she pondered her options. These Jedi thought they had her in a bad position. Well, it was true, she wasn't exactly in the best of situations, but she was Qaela of the Nightsisters and she wasn't going to play their game without adding a few rules of her own to it. She had something the Jedi wanted and the Jedi had something that she wanted. That made this a negotiation, but how it all played out would be determined on how she acted. As with all of this blasted forsaken planet, the cell was cold. Well, Qaela could deal with cold or heat or wet or even dryness and was not going to shy away from such things. She wasn't sure if they were watching her cell and didn't care if they were. She also was tired of wearing these ridiculous Jedi robes that Furion had forced on her. She preferred black, not these horrible brown and tan things. With a smile of contentment, she quickly stripped off every bit of Jedi infested clothing she had and tossed it on the small, hard bed. She wasn't ashamed of nudity and the scars covering her back, side, and legs would help validate her stories of abuse at the hands of Sith. She spoke out, knowing that the Jedi were listening, and said, "Since you have been so kind as to provide nourishment, I feel that it is only fair that I entertain one of your interrogators. I may even be willing to answer questions about myself as well, provided we can reach some sort of agreement." She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and sat down on top of her clothes on the bed to wait for their answer. Hopefully, she would be able to speak to a leader face to face so she could get to some real bargaining.

((Rez PM'ed me saying he was bowing out of the RP for further notice, so no need to wait on him)) Qaela frowned at the response. These Jedi did not seem willing to give her much leeway, not that she blamed them. Were she in charge of prisoners, she wouldn't give an ounce of room. Then again, she was the "bad" girl here and the Jedi were supposed to be the "good" guys, whatever that meant. She was hungry and thirsty after whatever drugs the Jedi dosed her with and that needed to change. She crossed her arms and said with a huff, "If you aren't going to answer questions, neither will I. In truth, I don't know if I can talk much more with how thirsty I am, and my hunger is driving me to distraction and muddling my brain so I can't think very well."

This was interesting. She had not expected such an offer from the Jedi, not in the least. The Sith, she knew, could be treacherous and sought betrayal, but she never considered that the Jedi would want her to be those very same things. Her first instinct was to reject the offer outright as ludicrous. The very thought of betraying those who embraced the darkness was revolting and, if she were honest with herself, caused a tingle of fear to run down her back. But then. . . . . She remained silent for many long minutes. The Sith had given her no end to trouble. She had been telling the truth when she challenged the Jedi to see the scars that covered her body from where Sith tried to kill her. For years, Sith inspired terror and rage within her. They had destroyed her life more than once. There had not really been any Sith she knew excepting one that did anything to inspire her for loyalty or made her feel anything other than as an outsider or threat, so why did she owe them anything? It wasn't all bad, though. They had taught her a great deal and made her more powerful. They were dangerous, she knew, but she had given almost as much grief to them as they had given her. She had killed Ares once, and helped kill others such as Haphaestus and the fool Tobias. They had taken much from her, but she had exacted her own toll on them. Recently, she made her peace with Raynuk's attempt to kill her, even if she had been infuriated at his departure and still didn't trust the man. She owed the Sith nothing. Her only debts would have been to Furion himself, not the Sith. She was a Nightsister, and while treachery ran in her blood, she also had her own word to keep, even if her definition of keeping it could sometimes be described as fluid. She would not betray Furion until he gave her reason to do so. The question she had was: could she betray the Sith without betraying Furion? "I told you, I am not Sith," she said after consideration. Her voice was far more calm now. "Surely you know that the Sith are not ones to share information with those who are not Sith, and even then, they don't always share among their own kind." A bit of defiance tinged her voice. "I am not a Sith, so you cannot hold me as one. I have done you nor this base any harm.You have charged me as impersonating a Jedi and I admit my guilt. Tell me, Master Jedi, what is the punishment for such a thing?"

((I am not one to mow through NPC's like they don't exist, but treat them near as PC's. Two or three Knights are sufficient to contain her as she would be about senior Knight level.)) A disembodied voice responded to her query. It wasn't what she was exactly hoping for, but at least they were talking. She snorted in derision at their "charges" and wondered how to handle them. As she did, her head began to clear enough for her to use the Force once more. When she reached out to touch it, she noticed that the veneer that Furion had put over her to conceal the darkness she embraced was gone. Well, there was no point in trying to conceal it any further: she embraced the dark and she wouldn't hide it. She was who she was. "I am not Sith," she snapped vehemently. "Come on in here and I will show you the scars I received from Sith trying to kill me." She would at that, even if it might make some of them blush.An enlarged sense of modesty was never one of the disadvantages she suffered from. She spat on the ground, or rather would have if the frying and chemicals pumped into her hadn't left her mouth dry. "I admit it, I was 'impersonating a member of the Jedi Order,' so you got me there." There was no point in denying it. Even if they weren't running her biometrics and DNA, they would soon realize that she was not a Jedi. "So fine me, not that I have much money to take." "I deemed it necessary in order to find my children." She wasn't sure how well these Jedi could read truth from fiction over an intercom, but it was true, at least from a certain point of view. "The reason I came here is because I want to find them and I believe the Jedi or at least, their allies, are holding them from me. I was hoping that your library nodes would contain the information I need, then I was going to leave." Well, that much was true, though she skipped a few tiny things in between. Best not mention that, though, even if she wasn't planning on killing any of the Jedi, they definitely would not have enjoyed what she was planning on doing to some of them.

It hurt to wake, and that was never a good sign. Qaela winced as bright light stabbed into her brain like needles and let loose a few select curses. She tried moving, and that only earned her a little jolt that sent tingles up and down her arms and legs. Stun cuffs, she thought blearily, Great. She remained still for several more minutes while her drug and shock addled body became more aware. The blinding light wasn't so blinding after that, but it still hurt. She felt like she had been tossed unarmed into a slave pit and forced to battle a dozen burly slaves with cudgels without the Force. Scratch that, she had felt better after that test. Whatever the Jedi gave her was not sitting well with her stomach or her head. Not at all. With a moan, she opened her eyes fully and risked moving her head to look around at her cell. It could be worse, she supposed. The Jedi at least weren't known for torture. Had she been captured by the Sith or even her own Sisters, she would already be covered in her own blood and quite possibly screaming for mercy by now. The Jedi were too kind for that sort of thing, even if they were far more cruel in other ways. Obviously, something had gone wrong. She knew that playing this game would be her downfall. Why hadn't Furion just attacked outright? She was far better at stalking and killing than playing a Good Girl. One as dark as Furion shouldn't have expected to be able to conceal himself forever, and that was not even taking into consideration herself or the Twi'lek girl. What to do now? For some reason, she wasn't frightened. A year or two ago, the prospect of being held captive by the Jedi would have terrified her nearly as much as facing the wrath of the Sith, but now it was not so frightening as interesting. Having dealt with three Dark Lords, multiple Sith masters, and the ever dangerous Lord Ar-Pharazon, she wasn't really too frightened by the prospect of facing Jedi. She had offered herself as prisoner to their hairy Grandmaster, but the fool had turned her away. She didn't fear torture, so the worst that they could do to her was lock her up. Or, more importantly, the worst they could do to her was to keep her from her children. Scratch that: the worst they could do to themselves was to keep her from her children. She made her decision on how to play this out. If it worked, great, if not, then she had more than one card to play. Figuring that there would be someone listening, she said in a calm, smooth voice, "I believe it is considered polite to at least inform prisoners of the charges against them. I have caused you no harm and I cannot believe that Jedi would be so crass as to attack without provocation."

The Jedi were accommodating enough, it seemed. She had always wanted to get her hands on the Jedi's source of knowledge. It might provide a great deal of information on some rather befuddling questions she and her people always had. The first thing she had done when free in the Sith Temple was to raid their library for as much information as possible, so why not do the same with the Jedi? Perhaps they might have the answer to the most important question in her life, the one that had sent her on this fool's quest in the first place. The mere dreams of getting her hands on even part of the Jedi library was enough to distract her. The moment they turned the corner and she saw the semicircle of robed Jedi with weapons drawn, she realized that the Jedi were far more sneaky and treacherous that she had thought. There was no time to react to this development with anything more than a single word of profanity, and the Jedi even managed to cut that short. "Fu--!" Then everything went black. ((No Challenge to Capture Shot))

Qaela gave them a thin smile. "Yes, actually. I fear my sense of direction is not as good in caves. Do you have a library terminal here in this facility? I have a lot to get caught up on after spending so long in the Outer Rim."

Something was not right. Qaela sat up abruptly from the bunk she had been resting in and frowned. Her finely honed sense of paranoia had been tingling ever since entering the atmosphere of this ice ball, but now it was all but blaring for attention. One did not survive the Nightsisters and Sith both without being able to sense when something was going wrong. Furion, she thought. What was he doing? Where was he? Why this foolishness about attacking via stealth instead of hitting the Jedi unawares? She was never an infiltrator, at least, not in the guise of a Jedi. She had to know what her character was before she could adopt it and there was no way for her to take the mantel of Jedi. This was foolishness, utter foolishness. She sent nudge Vaegir's direction as she swung her feet off of the bed and into the waiting boots. "Time to do something," she said. "We are in trouble and I don't aim to be here when it starts. Follow me if you want, or stick around here for the Jedi to come and collect you." She threw on her hated brown outer robe and cautiously opened the door to their shared room. There wasn't anyone outside, but that didn't mean much. She resisted the urge to cloak herself in every concealment spell she knew as she started off down the ice clad hallway back the way she had come. She didn't have a concrete plan, but there were several paths that could possibly lead her where she wanted to go.

"We have been in worse places," Qaela responded to his comment about their accommodations. She wasn't sure about him, but she knew that she definitely had lived in worse places. Dathomir wasn't exactly a luxury planet, neither was her time in the Sith outpost on Dagobah. "At least this place is clean, so we should be thankful for that." Despite herself, she was slightly interested in the caves. Perhaps if there was time, they would have an opportunity to explore and loot them. There were other, more important things to consider though. She was trying to keep track of nearby Jedi, but as discreetly as possible. She had spent time as a girl learning how to spy on the Witches, but they weren't Jedi, so she had to keep her senses close to their room. "Think we’ll get to see em soon?" he said. "We will see them soon enough. Until then, we simply need to wait and let the Force guide us." She wasn't sure how long it would take for Furion to make his move, but she hoped it wouldn't be too long. Being around this many Jedi was unnerving and she didn't like having to hide the comforting darkness within her. Plus, whatever Furion was doing to help shield her was distracting and felt almost unnatural. She began slowly pacing around the room waiting and wondering what sort of resistance they would be facing. She could ambush her enemies, of that she had little doubt. All she had was her wood knife, but once she downed a Jedi, she would acquire one of their lightsabers if they had one. Vaegir didn't seem to be exactly helpless in a fight, but Furion told her that he was untrained and that it was her job to clear the outer perimeter while he took out the center. It all hinged on Furion. Until he made his move, they would have to wait. Qaela really hoped that they didn't have to wait too long because she didn't relish being captured by the Jedi. At least they weren't known for torture, so she supposed it was better than being captured by the Sith or Nightsisters.

Qeala was relieved to be out of the numbing cold and into a slightly warmer environment. Her face and fingers were still numb, but at least she didn't need to worry about frostbite. Why the Jedi would build a place in such a desolate, hostile place was beyond her. She doubted that it had much to do with combat training, but if it did, then perhaps they had a small point. If you could survive out there, you could survive in any cold environment. As they walked, she kept her senses trained closely on those around her. If any of the Jedi started growing suspicious or if Furion decided to change things up and act early, she wanted to be ready. For his part, Furion was doing admirably well. She could sense is calm and perhaps even a bit of boredom at the routine. She didn't know how much of that was genuine or just an act because he was already adept at hiding what he was feeling, something not all Sith were capable of. His apprentice, the Twi'lek, seemed slightly in her element as well. Qaela could see why Furion took her as an apprentice: she was quick on her feet and, despite the rather disturbing and distorted sense of the woman she got on their journey here, appeared to fit the part. Vaegir was also doing his part, even if that meant being silent and following orders. Qaela wished that she could have had that role, but unfortunately, this straightforward way of getting in required her to interact socially with the Jedi. She didn't like it one bit and would have preferred to infiltrate via stealth as she had been trained to do. This was Furion's mission and he was in charge, so she would do what he told her to. Her senses picked up something that caught her attention. It was faint and not excessively obvious, but she definitely sensed an abnormal attention focused briefly on her coming from her "apprentice." It was an attention that she was quite used to feeling, one that she didn't mind. She didn't react to it, though, because she didn't think that a Jedi would exactly welcome such attention and she didn't want to give them anything to fuss about. She waited for the Jedi to take them to temporary quarters.

Qaela frowned slightly at the question. Even out here, these Jedi were so spoiled and isolated from the reality of life on the Rim to think that everyone had access to Holonet communications. There was no need to fake the trace of indignation at the suggestion she was so ignorant as to allow herself to be marooned over such a stupid thing. She had lived most of her life days away from the nearest starship or device capable of communicating off the planet. "Not all planets in the Rim have access to the Holonet, and many who do have it available to only the most affluent or powerful of citizens and at great cost." She fixed the other Jedi with a pensive glare. "Besides, I had a mission and young Lorruro here to look after, so who am I to question the will of the Force when it leaves me on that planet? Perhaps you would learn much by spending some time among the impoverished and oppressed citizens of the Outer Rim."

Qaela offered only the slightest of nods to Vaegir's response and marched on out through the snow toward the odd looking Jedi waiting for them. She didn't even bother to try to hide the fact that she was cold. "I am Jedi Mandela Hedgrove," she said in a slightly annoyed tone. She tried to affect a Core accent, but was not foolish enough to think that her more harsh Rim background wouldn't come to play. She had never been good at faking accents, but that wasn't for lack of trying. "This is my Padawan, Jadero Lorruro. I picked him up on the same Force forsaken Rim mining outpost that I have spent the last several years marooned on and decided to take him with me when I made my escape. While there, my lightsaber was taken so, after a short recovery period, I decided that it would be a good time for us to collect crystals to make new lightsabers. Both of us will be needing to get into the caves to find them." She paused and looked thoughtful. "As my first lightsaber was built using crystals from other sources, this is my first time here. It has been a good long time since I have been around civilized company, so forgive me if I require some help and a guide. The last thing I want to do is disturb the peace and tranquility here."

Why did it have to be so cold? Having grown up in a mostly warm region of a temperate planet, she had no love for the cold. She knew better than to let that show. Even dressed in the ridiculous costume of a Jedi, it was hardly enough. She knew of spells that would keep her warm, but she dared not use the Force now due to the risk of exposure. She wasn't sure how Furion was concealing their essence, but she didn't think even the Dark Lord could keep things under control if she started casting Nightsister spells right in front of the Jedi. Despite the chill, she was excited. This was the first time she was actually going into direct combat against the Jedi alone. She had met one of them before back when setting Grandmaster Kitt up for assassination at the hands of Ar-Pharazon and Raynuk Montar, but she had been young and not seeking blood at that point. There was the excessively one sided massacre of the foolish Jedi that tried to attack six of them at the Sith Temple, but that really didn't count. Every other time she had battled spellcasters, it had been Sith trying to kill her. Jedi were a whole different animal, if her studies had any truth to impart. Sith were aggressive, quick to suspicion, and without mercy. Jedi were pacifistic, quick to trust, and too hesitant when it came to killing. This would be fun. "Come along then, Padawan," she said in as preachy and self righteous a tone as she could muster. It might be a little over the top, but she figured that is how a Jedi might sound. She had spent some time among those of the light while infiltrating the Witch clans, but they were not much like Jedi at all, so that probably wouldn't be too much help. She only hoped that they could make their move quickly and that the Jedi weren't too nosy. Being tied up with the strange golden skinned non-human wasn't all that bad, anyway. He was an attractive enough specimen of a male, but there hadn't been much time to get to know him. They hadn't spoken much on the journey, but he seemed capable of dealing with things. He definitely didn't give off the impression that he was a weak kneed little lordling who had never fired a blaster or held a knife. She would keep an eye on him through this to make sure he didn't damage his features. Of course, she would also do so because Furion would want him intact for whatever purposes he had.

Though she still had questions and would have liked to argue her point a little more, it was clear that her defiance had turned him off of the conversation and that it was over. She scooped up the remnants of her food on the way out and left the Sith master on his own. She spent the rest of the trip mostly alone while pondering all that he had said and working to calm the rage within her. It was high time that she started taking back control of it instead of allowing it to control her.

Qaela was surprised at Raynuk's response and willingness to open up to her. Perhaps the haughty, bitter, and mistrusting man she met so long ago had grown some, just as she had. If he was willing to open up to her like this and expose a potential weakness, then it made her feel far more comfortable having opened up to him. The threat of mutual destruction was almost always an effective means by which to ensure violence didn't erupt. Other than the personal revelations, he had some rather interesting notions to share. She had always believed that love was a weakness. None of the Nightsisters mated for love. Ever. Her mother demonstrated no love even for her daughters. All she ever saw from the Sith was selfishness and hatred. Even Ca'Aran, a man who loved her, was unable to remain within the darkness because of it. He let himself be killed by her without resistance because he couldn't fight someone he loved. Now, Raynuk, a Sith master who was able to gain the respect of a good number of other Sith, was telling her that love wasn't necessarily a weakness. As with much of the content of her conversations with the man, it made no sense and went against everything she thought. When he explained some more about his apprentice, it did fit in a few gaps in her mind. She never met the girl, but she was told of what happened to her. It made more sense now why Raynuk would take such an instant dislike of her for becoming to Ar-Pharazon what his apprentice had been taken from him for being. For Ar-Pharazon to kill someone whom Raynuk was getting close to, then to take another woman to bed with him was most definitely something that could be taken as a smack in the face. Even if there was not even a hollow pretense of affection between her and Ar-Pharazon, she could see how Raynuk could be angered by what she was doing. She wasn't sure if that was much of a factor, but she believed it might have had a subliminal part in it. "I have no feelings for Delta other than a deep desire to see his skin slowly burn off his body," she said through gritted teeth. "Whatever affection I had for him died when he turned his back on the darkness and gave my children to those who were once our enemies. I betrayed and killed him in an instant out of blind, uncontrollable rage that controlled me. He betrayed me in a calm, calculating, long term way that was designed to cut me as deeply as possible." There was no lies there, no self delusions. The rage within her had burned away all love she once had for him and there was nothing but hatred in the spot within her that he once controlled. "Even then," she continued, "I would not sacrifice my children even if it means getting my vengeance against him. If it came down to killing him or saving my children, I would save my children without second thought. Getting my children and protecting them is my goal and nothing else can compete with that," she said as she raised her chin in defiance. "If that love means I am weak, then so be it. It is a weakness I will gladly accept even while I work to improve my strengths to compensate for it. If you don't like that, then I guess we are going to have to disagree." She had plenty more questions, but she decided to let him respond and see if perhaps he would be able to answer some of them on his own.

Qaela frowned at Raynuk as he began talking. She looked around and found some old rag to begin cleaning the blood off of her face as she listened to him. She figured that he was simply testing her, though that wasn't her first thought. Perhaps had he not already lashed out at her randomly in the past, she wouldn't have reacted with such rage, but he had. It had been the first time someone whom she had considered an ally had tried to kill her and she found that she still dwelt upon that fact even now two years later. She knew it wasn't necessarily a desirable thing, but it was what it was. She couldn't help but to smirk when mentioned finding a way to release. She always had a way to do that, and, if her memory was right, it was that very method that irked several of the other Scorpions back on that trip. Come to think of it, it had been a long time since she had been able to experience that particular form of release. The last time she was with someone was when Ar-Pharazon had taken advantage of her. That was the first time she tried to kill herself, but she was mostly over that. There was a lot of tension with Delta not wanting to cross that line and with her being pregnant. She had restrained herself out of devotion to him, but that was well and burned to flames. Her eyes briefly appraised the Sith in front of her, though with them being entirely black, there wasn't a visible way to tell where she was looking. She doubted he would be much interested, but it was an amusing thought nonetheless, one that helped bring her somewhat out of her sour mood. She caught the last bit of what he was asking and debated. Telling him what allowed her to control her rage would mean entrusting him with a rather large secret. If he knew, he could easily use that knowledge against her in a most cruel way. Sith were not known for denying themselves any advantage over adversaries, no matter how they got it. On the other hand, he was, at least on the surface, trying to help her. Sith masters were not always so generous with wisdom, so she needed to take advantage of his willingness to help while she could. Trust was definitely not something that came easy to her, especially not around those who had tried to kill her. In the end, though, she had to make a decision: to trust or not to trust? She continued to ponder that question while she finished cleaning her face. There was still a few smears of blood that dried too quickly to wipe off. She needed to get a wet rag to get all of it, but at least the majority of it was gone. She tossed aside the red soaked rag and briefly considered trying to salvage her food, but it was too scattered over the bulkhead floors to be worth anything. At last, she made her decision. "There is only one thing that I care about right now: my children. It might be a weakness, but I cannot help it. I want them, and not just because I want an heir or fresh blood to boost the Force sensitivity among my people. I had originally thought they would be nothing more than tools, a means to gain power among my Clan. Ar-Pharazon was an useful tool in acquiring the stronger bloodline that would give my Clan access to a pure, undiluted connection to the Force to repair the damage done by hundreds and hundreds of years of inbreeding. It was only an added benefit that I was able to use the shared bond between myself and those stronger children to increase my own Force potential. Ar-Pharazon conducted his own vile ritual that used his enhanced connection to the Force and the slightly weaker bonds of our unborn children to boost my weakened potential to that of what most Force users elsewhere in the Galaxy have. Because of that, I have more potential and raw strength in the Force of any in my Clan ever, but among the stars, I am nothing special. "Despite all of that, all of my coldly calculating purposes and reasons for conceiving, when the time came and I gave birth to them, I couldn't help but loving them. It is a weakness, I know, and I have paid dearly for it. I want them back to hold them in my arms and keep them safe and watch them grow and teach them how to protect themselves and all the things that a mother should do with her daughters. Well, and my sons, too. Having spent so much time here among the rest of the Galaxy, I no longer hold the same opinions of males as most of my kind do. "You asked what stopped me. It was the thought that if I cannot control myself now, I wouldn't be able to control myself if I ever get my children back. I have done horrible things, both out of necessity and out of my own desires. I can live with that fact. But if I harmed my children, I would never forgive myself. That is why I was able to regain control."

Qaela's paranoia senses were able to detect the blow before it hit her, just not with enough time to react. After all that she had suffered, she barely felt the pain, but there definitely was an element of shock to Raynuk's attack. Even as she was falling out of her chair, her instincts and training kicked in. She turned the tumble into a roll and came up into a crouch in the bulkhead with her wooden knife in hand and a long string of curses to match it. The rage exploded out of her and she wanted nothing more than to strike back at the man. A spell was already forming on her lips when her mind slowly caught up to her. She noted that Raynuk wasn't following up on the attack, but was sitting confidently in his chair as if nothing happened. He was saying something, but she didn't hear it through the pounding of her heart in her ears. She wanted to crush him, to burn him, to flay his skin off, and to paint herself in his blood. The rage in her body was extreme and demanded action. But she would not take it. She refused to act on the rage. She ordered the rage back down, deep within her being. It was a battle, but it was one she refused to lose. She let the images of her three little babies come to the forefront of her mind and let that almost foreign longing to protect, care, and cherish them to combat the rage. If she couldn't control her rage now, with them far away, she wouldn't be able to control it when they were near. If they were ever near. The battle took its toll on her. When she was able to see straight and hear clearly, she found wetness on the sides of her head and down the front of her chin. Her ears and nose had began bleeding again. She figured it might be the blood pressure spike or simply the rage turning on her when it couldn't be released. Either way, she remained standing with her knife in a death grip. She said nothing and didn't bother to wipe at the blood and smear it. As she sat back down in her chair, she tried to begin a basic healing spell silently in her head. At first, she thought it was working, but then the entire thing unraveled and fizzled out to nothing. A look of confusion bunched up her eyebrows as she processed the fact that her spell failed for the first time since she learned it to her mother's satisfaction. She supposed it was only logical. After all, Sith couldn't heal themselves like the Jedi could and right now, she was channeling so much darkness that it probably prevented her the objectivity needed to use such spells. She would have to try it out later when she was in private, but the thought scared her slightly. She had always been able to heal, even if it was tedious, time consuming, and exhausting. It had been what allowed her to survive the various attacks. It was what gave her her first connection to Ca'Ara--to Delta 73. It was the snare she used to kill Tobias Vos. It was a part of her and she would get it back. When she was at last able to speak, she said coldly, "Do not do that again or one of us will die."