Mordivai had been expecting to see torture implements when he entered the room, so he was surprised at first when Skiro pushed him into a large, windowless cell that was nearly empty. Then he saw the shackles and chain hanging from the ceiling in the room's center. With nothing else here - no furniture, bare walls - what was Skiro going to do? Mordivai decided to prepare himself for a beating.
Skiro fitted the shackles around his wrists, about at chest height, leaving lots of slack in the chain. He stepped back and gave Mordivai a chilling smile. He spoke only two words before leaving Mordivai alone in the brightly lit room.
"Have fun."
Mordivai stood still and waited, his nerves on edge. Nothing happened. No interrogation droid, no strange devices appearing out of the walls. Just...nothing.
It was only after some hours that Mordivai began to understand. His feet were growing tired and he hadn't eaten anything other than the usual slave gruel that had been passed out among the pens early that morning. What time was it now? Afternoon at least, Mordivai suspected, maybe even early evening. He also had to relieve himself. The worst realization came when he discovered why he had been given such a long length of excess chain. He could walk in a tight circle, but the chain fell just short of allowing him to actually do anything else. Lying down, sitting, even kneeling were out of the question. Most aggravating of all was how close the chain came to allowing his knees to touch the ground. It was just long enough to give him the illusion that he might be able to do it, but then the chain grew taut and the shackles bit into his wrists, leaving him a bare hand's breadth away from reaching his goal.
What was the meaning behind this type of torture? Hours passed. Mordivai was soon plagued by aching feet, cramps in his calves, pangs of hunger, and shooting pains in his bladder. Was Skiro expecting something from him? Was this some sort of test? Was Skiro off preparing other, more devious forms of torment? Maybe being beating would have been preferable, assuming it was over quickly. Mordivai began to feel angry, then desperate, then defeated.
Mordivai had been standing in a puddle of his own urine for some time, feeling sick with hunger, when the lights went out. Without windows or any source of outside light, the darkness was absolute. He blinked and strained his ears. Was someone coming? Was this a new phase of his confinement? In his exhaustion, his mind began to play tricks on him. He thought he saw shadows at the corners of his vision, even though it knew it was impossible for him to see any such thing. Once, he thought he felt the faintest touch on his arm, like an exhaled breath, but when nothing else happened, he decided that he had imagined it. He tried to curb his fear.
"There is no emotion, there is peace." His voice cracked from disuse. He repeated the Jedi Code, his voice gradually growing stronger, until the fear dissipated. Eventually exhaustion set in instead, and he felt his sense of balance wavering. At one point, the room seemed to tilt, and when he tried to lean the other way to compensate, he lost his footing altogether. The chain jerked tight and the shackles cut into his wrists as the full weight of his body pulled against them. He cried out and stumbled back to his feet again.
The hunger pains left him eventually, but now he was becoming unbearably thirsty. His mouth felt like wood and even swallowing was an effort. He blinked in the darkness, moving in and out of a bleary sleep. He finally lost consciousness and fell, the shackles again slicing into his wrists, harder this time, and more painful given the chafing that already plagued him.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed, at least a day, he decided, maybe more, when Skiro returned. Bright light flooded the room in a blinding flash, sending sharp pains through Mordivai's head. He closed his eyes, preferring the darkness.
He heard the scuff of Skiro's boots along the floor, coming closer, but then they stopped. Skiro said nothing and a for a long time. Finally Mordivai couldn't take the silence any longer.
"Can I have some water?"
With his eyes closed, the blow came out of nowhere, launching him off his feet. He fell, the chain clanking as it pulled taut, and Mordivai swung in a circle by his wrists.
"That's for speaking out of turn." Skiro's voice was muffled by the ringing in Mordivai's ears. That was quickly forgotten when a second blow came at him as Skiro planted a boot in his back.
"And that's for your request. You want nothing. You need nothing. You are nothing. You eat, breathe and piss only when Lord Shastine or I say so. Got it?"
Mordivai fumbled to his feet, the pain in his wrists like a ring of fire. "Yes," he croaked.
"No," Skiro said. "I'm not sure you do yet." He reached into a canister on his belt and scooped something out. "Open your mouth."
Mordivai hesitated, guessing that whatever it was Skiro had for him, it was probably going to be unpleasant. This time, however, he saw the blow coming. He jerked away, then opened his mouth.
"Your compliance should be immediate. You are a slave. You have no need to think." He pushed something icy cold into Mordivai's mouth. An ice cube.
Mordivai closed his eyes, trying to suck every last drop of water out of the ice. Skiro chuckled, allowed him a few more, and then walked through the door, the light blinking out behind him.
More time passed. Mordivai realized that he hadn't had to urinate in a long time. He knew this was a bad sign. His palms were dry and itchy and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. He had no energy left and his legs felt shaky and weak. Eventually he couldn't keep himself upright any longer. He slid down slowly, holding onto the chain until he reached its end. He tucked his legs underneath him and gently let go. It hurt, like a knife cutting into his flesh, but eventually the pain became a dull, constant presence, and finally his wrists went numb. He closed his eyes.
He hadn't realized that he had fallen asleep until he was awoken some time later. The door slid open, but no light other than the faint glow from the hallway outside entered. A figure was silhouetted there, a female Twi'lek by the shape. She ambled in, her gait awkward and lop-sided, and Mordivai realized that she was crippled, possible in both legs.
Passively, he watched as she approached and then squatted down beside him. He was vaguely conscious of the fact that he was filthy and probably stank, and knew that he should feel humiliated by this, but the thought was distant and hazy.
"It's almost over," she said, her voice a hush. "I brought something for you." She fished out a bottle and opened it, touching it to his lips. "It's water. Hey, slow down, easy. Drink it slow, ok?"
Mordivai tilted his head and felt the water cascading down his throat so divine and sweet. He couldn't drink it fast enough and it dribbled down his chin. Immediately after his stomach lurched and he felt sick. Oh please, he thought. Stay down. He groaned.
"See what I mean? Just rest a minute."
He breathed slowly, trying to calm his stomach, and eventually it settled. "More," he gasped.
"I can't. I'm sorry. Skiro will know. You're almost to the end though."
Mordivai watched her put the water away, unable to take his eyes off of it as it disappeared into a pocket. She then brought out something else, what looked like a chunk of stale bread. "Ok, little bites, remember?"
She held the bread while he bit into it and waited while he chewed slowly. Never had something so tasteless and dry felt so good going down. It was a tiny piece and it was soon gone. Mordivai raised his head to looked at her.
"Thank you."
She was wearing a simple clothes and a slave collar, he noticed. In the faint light he couldn't see much else, although he guessed her skin to be a shade of pink. Her lekku were decorated with beautiful dark patterns that reminded Mordivai of crawling vines.
"I know what's it's like," she said quietly. "I've got to go." She limped out, sliding the door closed behind her. It locked with a click and Mordivai was left alone in the dark again.
00o00
Mordivai was wavering in and out of a light doze when the door opened once more and Skiro came in. Mordivai had been trying to sleep standing up again, gripping the chain with his fingers and using it to lean against. Skiro approached and then snapped open the shackles. Mordivai immediately lost his balance and collapsed onto the damp and dirty floor.
"Take off your clothes." Skiro walked out of the room, leaving the door open.
What new horror was Skiro planning now? Mordivai crawled over to a dry corner of the room, his arms shaking badly. He knew better than to question Skiro's instructions, so he reluctantly stripped off his dirty clothes one at a time. He was down to his underclothes when Skiro came back in.
"Don't just stand there. Hurry up and get it all off. If you think I enjoy looking at your sorry ass, think again."
Mordivai peeled off the last of his clothes.
"Follow me."
Mordivai took a step forward, but his legs gave out underneath him and he blundered into a nearby wall. He picked himself up and hobbled after Skiro. He was led out into the hallway and into another cell. This one had a drain in the center of the floor and a hose attached to the wall. Skiro turned a few dials nearby and the hose sprung to life, spewing out a frothy stream of soap and water mixed together.
"Get clean. Be thorough and be quick about it."
Mordivai was left alone again. Like a old man, he shuffled across the floor to the hose. Even his fingers resisted and he ended up dropping it several times. He finally settled for kneeling on the floor. The water was cold, but it felt good. Mordivai poured it over his head and then did his best to wash the grime from his body and hair. He longed to guzzle the water straight from the hose, but forced himself to curb the temptation. The soap would probably just make him sick.
He was just finishing up when Skiro returned.
"Rinse off." Skiro turned another dial and the water changed to clear. Seeing the water cold and clean broke down the last of Mordivai's self control and he tilted the hose up and drank from it instead. With every swallow he expected the hose to be torn away from his grasp, or for Skiro to hit him, but Skiro left him alone. Once he had had his fill, he rinsed off. Skiro tossed a pile of clothes onto a dry spot in the corner.
"Get dressed." He leaned back against the wall and waited.
In the pile, Mordivai found a pair of pants and a shirt made from cheap fabric, some plain, flat sandals and nothing else. He had to sit down again in order to get his clothes on. When he finished he slid to the floor and closed his eyes.
"Not now, slave. Get up!"
Skiro lunged forward and Mordivai pushed himself to his feet, holding out his hands and waiting for the blow which was surely coming. But Skiro stepped back and only nodded. "Walk behind me and don't get lost."
It was daylight outside, small patches of sunlight breaking through the clouds to heat the already hot and humid air. Mordivai had not been allowed to dry off, and now his clothes stuck to him with little chance of them drying. He kept his head down and followed Skiro's feet across the compound and up to a large, imposing house.
Inside, the floors were carpeted in lush, bright colors, and every niche was decorated with statuary and Sith relics. Mordivai soon lost track of the winding hallways and doors he passed through. Skiro stopped finally in front of a door and pressed an intercom in the wall.
"My lord, the slave is here for your inspection."
The door slid into the wall and Skiro stepped back, prodding Mordivai forward.
Lord Shastine was lounging an oversized bed with a datapad in her hands. She slid out of bed, her face eager as always. Mordivai stopped and let her come forward the rest of the way, reluctant to enter such a personal space.
"He is ready for service," Skiro said from behind him.
"Well, let's find out." Shastine gave Mordivai a bright smile. "Get on your knees and lick my feet, slave."
Don't think. Just do. Mordivai carefully lowered his himself to the ground, trying not to fall over. He was leaning forward on his hands and knees, when Shastine suddenly grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back into a sitting position.
"That's enough slave, you've showed me your intention. I don't really want you slobbering on my nice slippers." She tittered and Mordivai placed his hands on his knees and sat with his eyes cast at Shastine's feet.
"Wonderful work, Skiro." There was a constant mirth in Shastine's voice, as if she simply couldn't contain her joy.
"I aim to please you, my lord."
"Get him set up at his post and start him in on work tomorrow. I've got a new shipment coming in in the morning."
"As you wish." The deference in Skiro's voice dropped away as soon he switched to addressing Mordivai. "Get up, slave and follow me."