025 - Week 3 Day 4: The Meaning of Terms

Exhaustion clung onto Lo's limbs and mind. She briefly kicked up her feet in an effort to stand, but they crumbled underneath her. Days in a single position had affected her muscles and tendons negatively. All she could do was hang there while she listened to the faint hum of the turbolift.

Lo regretted her outburst in the arena. Her foolishness had stolen all her energy and now the task ahead became daunting. She replayed the display between the female sith and Jaslyn in her head. Nothing in that scenario appeared to go over very well in her opinion. Every glance at the Sith woman brought more anxiety and concern into her soul. Nothing beneficial came from the interaction despite how confident Jaslyn appeared. The worry about her friend spiked when she considered what the male Sith might do to the red head.

Her thoughts scattered when the troopers lifted her slumping figure up. Ripped back into the present, they began to march down a lengthy corridor and toward a room. A loud hiss drew her eyes up from the floor. It wasn’t her cell like she expected. In the center, a mobile tub sat filled with warm water. The only other piece of furniture had been a table with a set of dark clothing on it. Lo suspected it originated from the Empire.

Finally, she managed to summon the strength to remain upright when the troopers released her arms. She pulled them to the front and began to wring her fingers. Her eyes sought the familiar dark hair of the Sith woman.  

Nimm entered the room shortly after her pet had been assisted inside. “It is time for you to change out your clothes, my pet. They reek.”

Lo sized up the woman, trying to decipher her plots or game. Without a bath or fresh clothes for days, of course they reeked. With cautionary movements, the apprentice reached up then tugged off her tunic. It fell to the floor followed by the rest. A small tremble traveled through her fur at being exposed.

“What’s going to happen to her?” The question poured from her muzzle, her eyes still set on the Sith.  

“Pain. Suffering. Agony. Perhaps death.” Nimm answered simply. “Or something like that. The final decision belongs to her master.”

“Of course.” Lo sighed when she took the fresh clothes.

Her eyebrow rose at the Sith, noting the bath and now the clothes in her hand. “I suppose I need to get into the bath and wash off. Where can I put these?”  

“On.”

“Excuse me? I haven’t even taken a bath. Why would I put clothes on just to get soaking wet?” Lo’s heart thumped against her chest as she paused to hear the answer.  

“Your soon-to-no-longer-be-a-Jedi companion dictated the terms, not I.” Nimm kept a neutral expression on her face as she said this.

“I shouldn’t be surprised, you would’ve twisted it about in your favor.”

The young bothan gritted her teeth as she debated on how to alter the circumstances.

“Making you wear wet clothes is of no particular benefit to me. Nor is it in my interest to break the deal.” She would keep to the letter of the deal, just to prove the point to her pet that attempting to dictate terms to those who hold absolute power over you is unwise at the best of times.

“You know what she meant, you’re many things. Ignorant is not one of them.” Retorted the padawan.

“What she meant and what she said are quite different things. Be careful what you ask for. You might just get it. Let that be a lesson to you. Besides, there is no need to worry. She is getting the same treatment.”

“Or some ignorant form of it.” Lo mumbled then added.

“You’re not really setting me free, are you?”  

“She asked for your release, not your freedom.” Nimm smiled at this. “Be thankful she also asked for your life. Otherwise I could simply have killed you and kept my part of the agreement.”

“I would probably have brought you back to life afterwards, but death tends to leave a certain mark.”

Another shiver etched across her spine as Lo forced out the terror of that possibility. The woman’s morbid solution frightened Lo, but she still protested despite it.  

“No, she said once I was free then you would get your information. You agreed to the requests, I heard that. Release is not the same thing.”

“And how is she to know what has or has not happened to you?” Nimm eyed her pet. “Besides, ‘free’ can mean many things. Right now, you are free of the arena within which you were contained. You are free of the table to which you were restrained. You are free to speak. Do you need more examples of how that part has already been fulfilled?”

“I-I don’t know how she would know. Honestly I didn’t understand that part, or some of the things she said.” Lo’s head lowered from Nimm’s, unable to keep eye contact for much longer.

“What are you planning to do?”

Nimm smirked. “Things.”

“You’re not going to make this easy or bearable, are you?” Lo’s stomach sank into her feet.

“‘Bearable’ is a matter of definition. Now get dressed and wash up. A deal was made and a deal will be kept.”

“And what happens if this time, I refuse or change the order?”

“Corporal Typhe will come in and assist you. You recall him, do you not? About this tall, more muscle than is sensible, hardly ever speaks." Nimm held out a hand, placed well over the height of her own head.

The last bit of resistance drained out of Lo. Her head shrunk back into her shoulders, and she stood there, trapped by circumstance. She began to wordlessly dress then stepped into the bath. Once Lo began to float, she inhaled and pushed herself under the water’s surface. The liquid wavered about her as it drowned out the sounds.

When she settled on the bottom of the bath, a few bubbles slipped out from the folds of her clothes. They moved her fur and the clothing, the grim drifted off to cloud the once clean water. A peaceful sensation washed over her. It reminded her of H’ratth. She loved just diving into the pond and sank to the bottom where she focused on the sensations. Sometimes it helped to clear her head.

Three minutes passed before the bothan sat up. She didn’t gasp, but blew out the liquid at the edge of her nostrils. Water dripped from her muzzle as her lungs pulled in fresher air. Dizziness pounded at her head, and she clasped the bath’s sides for balance. Her lengthened claws scratched at her fur until it looked lighter than before. Lo frowned at the dirty water before she decided to step out, her clothes suctioned to her frame. She shook in place then wrung out the edges of her sleeves, pants and more to dry off. At this point, a mess on the floor was the least of her problems.  

“Now, you will be fed. Exactly as agreed upon.” Inwardly, Nimm hoped that her pet would assume she had intentions of intentionally misinterpreting that part as well, simply so she could draw some amusement from it. In truth, that part was exactly as the label said: A regular meal, as any regular trooper would eat on a normal day.

As the last of the extra water dropped to the floor, Lo surveyed the Sith. She wondered how twisted this request would become.

"What did you do to that request?" The young girl leaned against the bath's edge. Her arms crossed as a flimsy protection against nefarious ideas.

Nimm smirked. “That is for you to discover.”

Lo’s fur rippled once more. She tried to stand her ground, but the fear was palpable in the air and added nothing to her intended image.

“I don’t think I’m hungry enough to risk that.”

“Your hunger, or lack thereof, is irrelevant. You will eat.”

The young prisoner wanted to protest and fight it. It was clear on her expression and body language until Nimm’s last words pushed out the resistance in her.

“What else is on the list that you intend to keep to?”

“You will find out when it happens. Or does not happen.”

“I’m guessing that's a nice way of telling me to clamp it.” Lo’s voice mixed in annoyance with her defeat.  

“That is your interpretation, my pet.”

The bothan gritted her teeth at the nickname as she glared at her captor.  

“You will follow me.” Nimm stated, brooking now questions and led the girl to a different room. This new room was entirely empty aside from a small table bolted to the floor upon which stood a tray with a meal.

Accepting her lack of power, Lo silently followed the Sith at a suitable distance. She had gotten tired of the pointless and empty answers to her questions. No matter what she did, nothing changed. Deep down the padawan hoped both Jaslyn and her could survive this declining situation. Seeing the table in the center, Lo glanced to Nimm then decided to move toward it. She sat then hesitated to eat. Her eyes sized up the normal looking tray and food. Nothing appeared out of the originary, but she didn’t fully trust it.

The fur stood on end thanks to the Sith’s continual stare. The padawan inhaled then exhaled, trying to calm herself. Her hand picked up a fork then picked at the entree. No discoloration or injection marks that she could spot. The bothan took a small bit to taste for any odd favors. Again, nothing stuck out to her. Gradually her paranoia began to fade the more she ate. She eventually emptied the tray before she slid it away.

Her attention continued to spy the Sith out of her peripheral vision.    

Nimm let her pet stew for a minute after she finished the meal before showing any reaction. “It is time. Come.”

She led the prisoner down through the compound, heading for the open hangar door. She knew for a fact that Lea and her apprentice were both in place, as were her own underlings. It was time to take this experiment to the next stage.

“What time is it?” Lo asked, but didn’t expect the Sith to give her an actual answer. It had been days or weeks since she had been released from confinement.

“One hour before sunset.” Nimm answered as she led the prisoner out onto the ramp of the compound loaned to them by the hutts.

Lo lifted a hand to shield her eyes. She squinted against the dying light's harshness and gashed her teeth in silence. Her heart fell when she witnessed the truth the Sith spoke of. The sun was sinking into nightfall.

If she was being released, she wasted more time staying put than finding safety.

"This has to be the term of release..." Lo said in a hushed voice.

How long had it been since she had been outside? Time jumbled into her head enough that she didn't even know for sure. It just felt like a really long time. The breeze upon the planet whipped back and into the base's open doors behind her.

Jaslyn's words spun around her memory, leaving a spark of hope in her heart. She would find hope, free Jaslyn and they would all return to H'ratth to heal. A wish for an impossible result.

She took another deep inhale then mumbled her master's phrase under her breath. "Trust the Force."

Without waiting for Nimm to officially release her, the young bothan rushed down the ramp.

Nimm casually reached out with the Force, halting the movement of the young bothan. As undertrained and weakened as the girl was, overwhelming her telekinetic defenses hardly required effort, let alone proved any challenge. “Where do you think you are going?” she asked curiously.

Lo didn’t expect the Sith to stop her. Not with nightfall approaching so quickly and her survival at risk with each moment that passed. Her ears twitched at the Sith’s word as her heart thumped heavily in her chest. She felt her body lifted then turned about to face the horrible woman.

“I th-thought you were going to release me.”

“You seem to forget…” Nimm spoke chastisingly, “Your soon-to-be-Sith friend has no real power around here. Authority-wise she ranks below a neophyte. Like you, she is no more than a prisoner of war.”

She poked the girl with a finger to make a point. “Anything and everything that happens to you is happening because I want it to happen.” From a pouch on her waist Nimm pulled out a pair of tools. One was vaguely shaped like a spoon, the other like a pair of large side cutters. “It would be rather fitting, would it not, if I were to send your former master one of your eyes, would it not?”

"Or perhaps I should simply send a finger or two? I am certain he would appreciate the gesture confirming that you are in fact still alive and on Ryloth.” Nimm had not made any sort of agreement with Apprentice Caxal’s pet that there would be no harm done to her pet. Not that she would have felt bound by any such terms in any case. “Oh, I know… I will let you choose. Which of the two would you prefer? Or is there some other part you would rather have me remove?”

Lo flinched when the Sith poked her. Her brown eyes locked on the dark haired woman as she swallowed the anger and hatred it caused. Out of all the times she had been touched, this Sith drew the strongest reaction from her.

“I don’t want you to remove anything!” She fought not to scream at the one holding the advantage.  

“That is not one of your options, my pet.”

Lo trembled. Hot tears of fury and pain swelled at the corners of her eyes, ignoring her efforts to hold them back. She had never hated someone in her life before. This Sith was the first. Maybe it was just childish of her to believe the torture might’ve ended the moment she fled from the base.

“I’m not your pet. I’m not some animal to abuse, discard, and toy with. I’m a jedi!” She tried to spit, but the dryness in her mouth prevented it.  

“All evidence points to the contrary. Now, my pet… make your choice.”

“My finger.” She ensured to say a single one, but she doubted the Sith would be satisfied with it.

“Wise choice, my pet. Now hold still…” Nimm took a firm grasp of the young bothan’s left hand, then moved the side clippers into place around the anular finger.

When the Sith took her left hand and moved the clippers closer, Lo’s own right shot out and gripped the aggressor. She didn’t stop the action. Instead, her fingers tightened in preparation for the torment she had to endure.

“I need something hot to stop the bleeding… unless you changed your mind about letting me die.” She tried not to sound hopeful.

“The loss of a finger will not cause you to bleed to death.” As she said this, Nimm pressed the handles of the cutters together, cutting into the finger with ease.

Lo's thoughts collapsed into pain. Her fingers tightened their grasp on the Sith's arm. Her index finger tried to curl back and escape the torture. The small heart of hers smacked against her chest. In slow motion, the muscle gave away to the sharp edge then followed the crack of the bone underneath. Her eyes closed while more tears trickled down her fur.

She curled back her lips to release an ear splitting scream into the Sith's direction. Her legs tightened then began to pull away, but the bothan rooted herself on the spot. She knew in the blinding moment if she moved, more damage would happen. A tremble rippled through her very soul.

The moment the deed ended, Lo's legs gave out from underneath her. Her knees hit the stony ramp hard. She curled forward and clutched her hand to her middle. Warm liquid began to soak into the tunic.

A cold, clammy sensation spread onto her skin. Her fur pressed tightly against her form. The young bothan's stomach churned its content with the intention to eject it. Each time she breathed, it came out in rapid speed. In and out, the rhythm pounded in her skull.

“Oh do stop crying. It is just a single finger.” Nimm stated, putting away the tool and plopping the finger into a small transparisteel vial that would preserve it for later. The vial she put into a belt pouch. “If you remain perfectly still, I can cauterize it for you.” As she said this, she placed a hand on one of the lightsabers clipped to her belt, a clear implication of the tool she would utilize.

All she could manage was a frustrated whimper. It would surprise Lo if she could even remain conscious after this much pain.

Unsurprised by the lack of a response, Nimm pulled the smaller lightsaber, adjusting the dials on its side to the minimal settings before activating it. With her other hand, she used the Force to pull the bleeding arm away from the girl’s body and taking a firm grasp on it to hold it in place, At which point she then meticulously pressed the thin blade of the shoto lightsaber against the bleeding injury, searching the flesh shut.

Lo resisted the tug of the Force on her arm. Another rush of agony drew a fresh cry and her pitiful defenses crumbled. Her trembling increased as a hot surface seared the nub. The sound echoed in her ears as it cooked the blood and closed off the wound.

Another scream killed the silence.

When Nimm released her arm, the bothan jerked it back against herself and tried to ride out the shock. All the emotions twisted inside of her like a blackhole. It dragged her along into a place she didn't want to go.

After watching the girl whimper a little, Nimm spoke again. “I have another choice for you to make, my pet.”

She paused to let the concept sink in before continuing. “Either you can go out into the jungle, where your choices are your own. . . Or you can remain here, where you will be provided regular meals and a bed to sleep in, free of the fascinating vermin that infests this world.”

Lo pressed her hand to the stone's gravelly texture. She took deep breaths as she pushed through the shock. It took a while. The sun at her back began to creep every closer to the horizon and threatened to disappear for the night. She glanced at her time draining away.

Through heavy breaths, she realized something... "What happened to the 'terms' you intended to follow? I had no choice in how you understood those." She stated with some effort.

“I am following them. How I interpret them is entirely my choice.”

"As well as stack things in your favor for the long game." Lo mumbled quietly, her eyes still fixed on the freedom in front of her. Even if it would kill her in the end.

"I'm thinking the vermin out here is much more tolerable than you. At least they aren't a monster." She started to weakly push up onto her feet.

The bothan's balance wobbled and shifted side to side. Her leg nearly gave out, but she forced it back into line.

"I rather risk dying than see or be tortured by you again."

Lo began to hobble toward the end of the ramp.

Nimm chuckled softly, watching the young bothan walk towards the jungle. Just before she reached the end of the ramp, Nimm pressed a command into her wrist unit, altering the settings on the bothan’s collar. Immediately the range limit of the rylo-fence extended from the end of the ramp to a considerable distance further. It also activated the built-in tracker, which had not been necessary previously. It would, of course, not give her free reign to move around the planet, though she might think so. It would still be most unwise to attempt to leave the planet, should she somehow find her way onto a starship.

Lo's feet dragged across the ramp's gradual decline as the ground leveled out. Her foot clipped against her leg causing her to trip. She stumbled forward then caught her balance. Lo let the dizzy sensation right itself. Once more she continued to walk slowly down. Against her middle, her wounded hand remained. The night would be a nightmare trying to survive. A small regret flickered in her heart, but she shoved it away.

There was little doubt in her mind that the Sith would've twisted the offer. If Jaslyn's interaction taught her anything, it was she couldn't trust a Sith's word.

Her foot twisted wrong causing her to crumble down to one knee. She shot out her hands to keep from face planting into the ground. Lo's chest inhaled deeper than exhaled faster, signs of her energy reaching its limits. Not willing to give up, she made herself get back up then paused.

She glanced at the Sith still watching her and the base that held her prisoner. The dark eyes once filled with pain and defeat revealed a small fire of hope. Despite the odds, she wanted this horror to come to its end.

"Jaslyn, stay strong. Please. I'll find a way to stop this. Somehow." She lingered on that quiet thought then pushed into the jungle's foliage. Spurred on by the strong desire to leave her trauma behind.

Nimm did not go back inside until after she was certain her pet had gotten out of sight. For the first round of tracking, her fellow Apprentice Lea and that one’s apprentice would take care of keeping an eye on the pet. Then another would take over and so forth. Just as she had planned it. It really was amusing that the young Jedi presumably thought that she was free. Even discounting the fact that she would be observed on a regular basis and was being tracked constantly, she had a slave collar on. That would prevent her from venturing more than twenty-five kilometers from the base without assistance and even with assistance, a distance over fifty kilometers would almost certainly kill her.

And she thought herself free. That, Nimm found particularly amusing. She eventually walked back inside, heading for a lab to acquire some preservative fluids for the finger she had cut off. For now she had no idea where to send it, so it was best to ensure that it would not decompose until she figured that bit out.