Chapter Sixteen: Retaliations
Jresh briskly exited the suite, leaving Lorrik behind to recover. The inquisitor sat on his knees, staring at the door with growing concern. For once in his life, he had no clue or estimations of what events would transpire in the near future. He sat amongst the quiet room. Everything was still, calm, and peaceful. But in the inquisitor's mind, only chaos. Feelings and concerns flooded his conscience. Questions circulated over and over in his mind.
What if? What will be? How, and most importantly, who? The Academy had finally left its mark on the student, physically and emotionally. And yet, here he remained, unable to reciprocate. Unable, or unwanting? He did not know. He had allowed Jresh to charge off on his own. He didn't want to burden his partner. But deep within his mind, he wanted revenge. He wanted the pain he felt to be met and repaid in full.
Lorrik wanted peace, balance, and whatever else he might need to reach an enlightenment capable of separating himself from this accursed Academy. He wanted knowledge, power, and the ability to control his own freedom. He simply wanted. A wont for want defined him. Burdened him. Peace, yet emotion. Contradictories plagued his mindset.
Slowly, the inquisitor raised himself from the floor and steadily walked toward his room. As he passed the threshold of his personal quarters, he began to shed the outer layers of his robe. Unbuckling various fasteners, the Human haphazardly flung the gloves and boots from his limbs, and let his outer coat messily fall to the floor. Limping to the bathroom, Lorrik examined his reflection on the sizable mirror mounted upon the wall.
Splotches of red and purple marred his visage. Long since dried blood ran from the corners of his mouth, from his nostrils. Bruises dotted the rest of his remarkably swollen face. Despite his injuries, the inquisitor had moved beyond the pain. He could no longer gaze upon his face and see the individual cuts and bruises. Now, he could only see the captured image of his entire countenance. A portrait. A painting that held many facets, and many meanings.
Lorrik gazed at his reflection. He saw weakness, someone utterly incapable of defending himself. He saw strength, someone capable of enduring previously unmatched levels of pain. Beyond the anguish, the inquisitor eventually came across a realization. He wanted this. He needed this. Because in the end, he was feeling something. Pain, assuredly, but also a well of emotion and confusing thought. It was invigorating for the inquisitor.
Lorrik continued to stare at his reflection, and watched as he slowly adopted a smile. He saw potential. He saw a challenge. Exiting the bathroom, the inquisitor carried himself to the center of his bed. But instead of falling prone and resting, he adopted a meditative position, sitting upright with his legs crossed above the plush covers that lay beneath him. Closing his eyes, Lorrik brought his hands together, as the air surrounding him vibrated ever so slightly, producing a visible aura that seemed to emanate from his person.
Jresh, meanwhile, walked the halls of the Academy with purpose. Brisk and dedicated, the warrior moved with an atypically fast pace, though still falling short of a jog. In reality, he was marching, marching toward a sure destination where sure actions were to take place.
Not bothering to utilize the hood of his robes, all who gazed upon the warrior as he made his way toward the classrooms saw a fierce dedication. Whichever students populated the halls that Jresh currently walked through, quickly altered their position, lest they actively impede the warrior. Two students however, made no such effort. Isorr and Arlia were walking back to their suite, having successfully completed their master's exercise.
Seeing the Pureblood marching toward them alone, Arlia couldn't help but release a snide comment at the warrior. "Well, what do you know? Those two aren't physically latched on to one another."
Arlia was momentarily confused when the Pureblood offered absolutely no response. She was unsure if he merely hadn't heard her, or if he was actively ignoring her. The Twi'lek didn't have time for another comment, as Jresh passed through the minimal gap that separated the duo without a single word or wayward glance. The two students continued to gaze at the stalwart warrior as he continued his trek toward the lower halls.
"That was peculiar," Arlia said, puzzling over the Sith's presence. As she turned to face her partner, she saw the Zabrak bearing a peculiar smirk. "What's got you so giddy, Isorr?"
The Zabrak kept his eyes affixed to the marching warrior. "I know that look."
"Oh, and what look might that be?"
"The look of pain and hatred. The look of death." There was a paused as Isorr watched the Pureblood turned a corner. "Good."
"Good?"
"I was beginning to think the Human was having an adverse effect on the warrior. Weakening him. However, it looks like I still possess a worthy opponent in him."
Arlia could not reciprocate her partner's musings of worthiness.
Reaching the lecture wing of the lower halls, Jresh ventured passed the area where he had first met his companion. It was there that he came across a classroom in the middle of its studies. The number etched onto the wall next to the door matched the one Lorrik had described. As the warrior approached, the metallic door lifted itself into its upper recess in response to the Sith's presence.
Inside the classroom, the students and instructor were sufficiently interrupted by the intruding warrior. There was a clear path from the door to the classroom's instructor, who currently stood behind a lectern, and in front of a wall with various Sith writings etched onto its surface.
To the left and right, two sitting areas. Cold, brutal seating, lacking in any ergonomically pleasing design, was situated in tiered rows, each row sitting at a slightly higher elevation the closer to the door it was. Jresh pressed onward into the confines of the room, garnering the attention of the less than pleased instructor.
"I'm sorry… my lord… but might you explain why you are interrupting my lecture?" the instructor asked, balancing respect and disapproval. Jresh offered the older Human no response as he continued forward. Finally, adjacent to the instructor, the warrior leaned in close and whispered into the teacher's ear. The plainly robed Human paused for but a moment before leaving the classroom without a word.
Jresh now stood behind the lectern, gazing out toward the students that populated the room. As he panned his gaze across the gathered students, Jresh unhooked his saber and placed it at the base of the lectern.
"I require a word with a student named Ornell and anyone who would care to associate with him. Everyone else… leave. Now."
The warrior's words shook the students to the core, and they promptly complied. As the mostly Human group vacated the room, only a few figures yet remained, matching the descriptions Lorrik had given of his aggressors.
"Look, you may have tricked the instructor into thinking you're someone of rank, but we know you're just a student here," a sufficiently smug Human said from the front row.
The commenting student was trying his hardest to adopt an aloof stance and appear unfazed by the warrior's intrusion. Jresh studied the individual. It was definitely Ornell. Abandoning the lectern, Jresh made his way toward the student's position.
"Hey, we both know there's nothing you can-" Ornell began, before Jresh promptly gripped the student by his blonde hair, and slammed his head into the sturdy desktop in front of him. As Ornell recoiled in pain, the three students that had opted to remain leapt to his defense.
Weaponless, they opted to bring down the warrior with their bare hands. They failed. The first to enter Jresh's reach found himself incapacitated with a quick jab to his throat. The next managed to grab a hold on the warrior's exterior robes, and the Pureblood responded by simply driving his own skull into the student's nose. The last defender leapt at the Sith from one of the back rows. The Pureblood grabbed the jumper in mid-air before slamming his body to the ground at his feet. As the student writhed on the ground, Jresh forcefully directed his heel down onto the fallen student's chest, knocking whatever air remained out of his lungs. Ornell, clutching the side of his head, had not even begun to process the events that had just transpired.
"What do you think you're-" Ornell began, before he found himself gripped by the robes near his chest. The warrior lifted the inquisitor in training and flung him over the desk, sending him sliding toward the lectern. As Ornell impacted against the solid fixture, he began to scuttle and panic, unsure of any way to escape. On instinct, he grasped the training saber Jresh had left at the base of the lectern, activated it, and pointed it at the warrior. Jresh merely stared down his opponent, watching as the weapon trembled in the wielder's right hand.
"Y-you m-messed up!" Ornell shouted, desperation oozing from every syllable that left his mouth. "N-now I've… I've got your weapon!"
The Pureblood approached the frightened student with one slow step after another.
"Yes… yes you do," Jresh plainly stated, before he batted the weapon free of Ornell's grip with a powerful backward swing of his gloved hand. "You've also revealed your dominant hand."
The warrior closed whatever gap remained and lifted the student by his neck before flattening him against the ground. As Ornell lay sprawled at his feet, Jresh planted a boot on the student's chest, keeping him pinned to the ground.
"P-please! You can't kill me!" Ornell desperately cried out.
"Oh, I most definitely can," Jresh coldly stated, leaning downward closer to his victim's face. "But, I won't." The warrior, still pinning the inquisitor to the ground, reached down and grasped the student's right hand by the wrist. "You committed a great grievance against Lorrik Velash, and in turn, committed a great grievance against myself."
Gripping Ornell's hand with one of his, Jresh used his other to grasp the student's index finger. In one single motion, he bent the digit back until an audible snap wrung out, followed by Ornell's howls of pain.
"That… was for Lorrik."
Jresh moved on to the middle finger, and repeated the action. Ornell repeated his response with more unintelligible shrieks.
"That… was for me."
Jresh released the inquisitor's hand and removed his foot from the student's chest. Ornell clutched his abused hand, writhing on the ground in agony. The warrior took a knee, and clutched Ornell's jaw with his hand. Directing the student's head, he made sure Ornell's gaze met with his own.
"The consequences of your actions have been dealt. So long as you do not continue to harass myself or my partner, no more harm will be departed upon you. You are free to wander these halls without fear of further retaliation. However, if our gazes ever meet again, you will have exactly five seconds to make yourself disappear. Or else. Do I make myself clear?"
Ornell nodded, his eyes glazed over in tears. Without another word, Jresh retrieved his training saber, attached it to his belt, and departed the classroom, passing the still prone group of students that had opposed him. Exiting the room, the class instructor leaned against the wall adjacent to the door. Jresh had no words for him, or anyone else, and began his solemn trek back to the suite.
Back at the suite, Lorrik entered his bathroom yet again, having exited his meditative trance. Gazing at his reflection, the inquisitor examined every extremity of his face. No cuts. No bruises. Lorrik emoted in a wide range, stretching and flexing each facial muscle and offering the occasional inquisitive poke and prod with his finger. Everything had apparently returned to normal. The pain was nothing but a memory. Lorrik pumped his fist into the air, overtly excited with the success of his new Force technique.