"Halt." Aaric ordered. "Stand fast here and take this chance to rest. I will enter the armoury on my own."
The group, along with their captured slaves, had trod through the tomb of Ajunta Pall for an hour and came upon the entrance which led down a flight of stairs to the tomb's armoury.
"Will you not need backup, sir?" Sergeant Cormun asked.
"No. And whatever happens in there, you and your men will stay put until I come out. If any one of your men steps foot inside to 'assist', I will be VERY annoyed. Is that clear?" The acolyte ordered.
"C-crystal, sir!"
With that settled, Aaric made his way down the steps into the armoury. It wasn't much, simply a wide corridor with a huge chamber at the end. What made it slightly peculiar were the stone coffins which seemed to line both sides of the stair way and chambers. Reaching ground zero, he looked ahead of him to see a granite weapon rack before him. Hanging from it, the Sith warblade he was destined to take.
Stepping forward, he grabbed hold of the handle and pried the dusty weapon from the rack and held it aloft. Taking a few swings, he grinned at how well-balanced it was. Not unlike a rapier, the grip was long enough for a single hand. Its blade was narrow but sturdy and did not flex. It had a wide hand guard as well as a pommel which was weighted just enough to keep the centre of gravity at the point where he held it. Pressing the button on the handle, four equidistant plasma blades activated, running along the stem. In short, this was the perfect weapon for a fencer like himself.
Satisfied of his new weapon, he turned to leave. But just a few moments later, he felt a stone tile under his foot depress and heard an audible 'click'. Sensing danger, he drew both his warblade and training blade in each hand. "Tch. I knew it was almost too easy." He murmured.
The lids of the stone coffins he dismissed earlier suddenly fell open, sparks then sounds of clanking followed as dark figures twitched within and metal feet stepped out of them; Droids of old, tasked to guard the armoury in case of plunderers, and Aaric counted four of them. Activating his blades, the droid guardians turned toward the trespasser and did the same, charging at him. The acolyte, however, was more than a match.
Limited by ancient technology and millennia of corrosion due to disuse, their clunky movements combined with straightforward tactics and basic blade work were easily predicted and countered by the skilled Sith. The first droid to reach him swung downwards, but was deflected by a training blade and its torso cut open by the warblade followed by a force kick which flung and crashed onto the second droid. The third lunged with a thrust to his torso, but was deftly dodged with a spin and was responded by a deep slash to its back. The fourth met the same fate, attempting a diagonal slash but was blocked and immediately returned with a slash and a puncture through the chest. And before the second droid could even push off its deactivated first and get off the ground, its head was separated.
"Hn, hardly a warm up." Keeping his blades ready just in case, he went back up the stairwell. He was not surprised this time when more droids exited their coffins to attack, thus he made quick work of them all the same. Exiting the chamber to his waiting men, Cormun stood up to greet him.
"My lord! I hope you managed to find whatever it was you needed." He sighed, relieved to see him alright.
"I did. Now let us get out of this hole." The acolyte replied impassively.
Within another half an hour, the group at last exited the tomb. Aaric marvelled at the vaunting entrance of the Sith Academy and could not wait to meet Tremel. But first, he had to drop off his group of troopers off. Bringing them to the nearby medical post by the side of the academy entrance, he addressed Sergeant Cormun one last time.
"Sergeant." He called, the trooper stepping forward at attention. "You have served me well and led your men to victory, small as it may seem compared to the grander scheme of things. I hope you realise that without my help your men would have been stuck in that tomb and slaughtered. You and your men owe me a debt, and I will come to claim it one day."
"Y-yes, your help is much appreciated my lord!" He replied, bowing deeply. "My men and I will remember your service to us. I am sure once you become an apprentice for one of the Dark Lords here, you will have enough clout to call us for aid. Rest assured we will be waiting for that day."
The rest of his troopers followed suit, and Aaric nodded in recognition. Turning around and leaving the group, he made his way to the entrance of the academy. There he was suddenly stopped by what looked like a menacing female Sith pureblood waiting just for him.
"Acolyte. I am assistant overseer Loun. I come with a message." She stated. "Overseer Tremel can teach you the ways of the Sith but not all of the skills. For that, there are specialists in the Academy and Tremel wishes to meet them and learn what you can. Understood?"
"I do, assistant overseer." The acolyte replied, giving her a slight bow. He scanned his lusty eyes over her lean frame and how her outfit hugged her tight body. Her red, pureblood skin coupled with barbs jutting out from above her eyebrows and short facial tentacles hanging from her cheeks made her look exotic. He read about how Sith purebloods were strong in the force, but also highly arrogant due to their view as a step above humans.
If they even cared to read their history properly, they might have been surprised to learn that the reason they were part of the Sith order was because humans first arrived in Korriban and subjugated their race in the first place. Aaric was determined eventually to take her down a peg or two and make her learn a thing about human superiority; down on her knees and his dick in her pureblood pussy of course.
"May I also say that the pure blood in your veins gives you a very attractive colouring." He complimented flirtatiously while emanating his power in the immediate area around both individuals.
"Oh my," Loun scoffed. "An acolyte attempting to make a move on me? I commend you. You are either bold or simply stupid to do such, maybe a bit of both."
"Trust me assistant overseer, I do so simply because I can do so and have the power to back it up." He replied confidently, stepping forward until their chests were almost touching. Taking a gamble, he raised his left hand and gently stroke the Pureblood's right tendril handing from her cheek.
Loun was taken aback by the sudden gesture. Technically, the stroking of one's left tendril was regarded as an expression of thoughtfulness. It was bad enough that this human acolyte had the gall to attempt at displaying his power before her. It angered yet impressed her at the same time, but she did not show it outwardly. Almost immediately, she slapped away his offending hand impassively and gave him a weak glare.
"I sense great force potential in you acolyte, but potential does not equate to actual power. To even touch a pureblood woman, you must prove that the Sith runs strong through your muddied veins. A Sith woman only respects power. I will forgive your offence just this once because of Tremel. But I will not be merciful next time. Now leave! Maybe someday you may learn enough to impress me; if not kill me." The pureblood female hissed.
"As you say, assistant overseer." Aaric replied, with a mocking bow before striding away into the depths of the academy.
Once he was out of sight, Loun released the tension in her legs and let herself fall backwards to lean on the wall behind her. The Sith pureblood cursed inwardly. It was only a gentle touch, yet the pleasure she felt from that fleeting moment would have caused her legs to buckle had she not steeled herself. She could feel juices starting to flow out from her red pussy and staining her fortunately black leggings. Consolidating her rage, she vowed get him back for that humiliation soon.
The so-called 'trainers' that Aaric met were nothing short of disappointing for the prodigal acolyte. Thinking he would be able to learn something new, the Tritum scion felt nothing more than annoyed in the end. Apparently, Tremel was seeking to test his abilities to see how far ahead he was in skill. Unbeknownst to any of them, it was all thanks to the Mecrosa Order of whom their members rigorously shaped Aaric to be potentially the most powerful acolyte in Korriban. Each trainer who tested him in his or her specialty was soundly defeated. Of course, some of the more egoistic ones attempted to mask their failure; saying they were only testing him to a certain degree. But the acolyte knew otherwise, of course. Conclusively, he managed to obtain all their commendations.
With the menial task done, Aaric made his way to Tremel's chambers. As he walked the corridors, acolytes and full-fledged Sith alike turned to give him second glances. It was obvious that he was a new face that they have not seen before and could sense was quite powerful at that. Aaric knew that now that he had their attention, larger game would come sniffing around. Rounding a corner into the chamber adjacent to the withered overseer's office, he was suddenly stopped by two figures; one bald and standing tall like a behemoth, and the other slightly shorter with a more defined build and buzzcut hairstyle but sporting a nasty demeanour.
"Hey there, acolyte. Hold on a moment. Let me get a look at you." The latter barked.
Aaric stopped in his tracks and brushed his hair back. "Oh? I've got fans already? You must be here for an autograph!" he exclaimed amusedly.
"Wha-What are you talking about? Do not mock me!" The scarred acolyte burst out, before reining his anger in. "Hmph. No matter, It's not like you'll survive anyway. Pathetic… you're Overseer Tremel's secret weapon, huh? Impressive, to be sure. Afraid the old man waited too long to make his move, though. I'm Vemrin, and unlike you I've fought and bled for everything I have. I demand respect."
"Well, glad we have something in common then, Vemrin." Aaric sneered, not enjoying Vemrin's condescending tone. "You don't know me, or what I've done to earn my place here. So back off! Because you don't want to make me angry."
A sudden lash of his force presence, or killing intent filled the immediate area and both acolytes took an subconscious step back. Recovering almost immediately from the slight shock, Vemrin unfortunately held his ground.
"Believe it or not, I'm trying to keep you from getting killed." He warned. "If Overseer Tremel had made his move a year ago when I first arrived, you might've stood a chance. But now it's too little, too late."
"And believe it or not, you're doing a very bad job of it." Aaric retorted. "It doesn't matter if I came a year ago, today or a year later. I would have killed you just the same, Vemrin."
"This is ridiculous, Vemrin. Let's just kill him and hide the body!" The larger man finally speaking. It was obvious to Aaric that he was more brawn than brain.
"We're not on Balmorra anymore, Dolgis. There are rules and traditions. We'll leave the shortcuts to Overseer Tremel and his last pathetic hope here." Vemrin Declared.
"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine? You must be the eye of parties." The Tritum scion mocked.
Vemrin, however was not amused. "You're not funny. Just pathetic. You've been warned. Coming Dolgis?"
"Be right there, Vemrin." Dolgis replied.
Vemrin, nodded and brushed past Aaric, who smirked in his victory for getting under his skin. Dolgis, however, stepped up to him in an attempt to use his towering figure to intimidate him.
"Listen to me you useless priss. Acolytes aren't allowed to murder each other. But accidents happen. It isn't murder without witnesses. No more warnings. Vemrin's the alpha monster here. You go after Vemrin, you d—AUGH!" His rant was cutoff as Aaric's patience run out and he struck a quick but powerful force-powered blow to the giant's abdomen.
Dolgis coughed and sputtered as he tried and failed miserably to hold his lunch in. Aaric scoffed at the pathetic sight and kicked him onto his back before placing his boot on his neck, choking him.
"Now, you listen to me you pitiful sack of nerf-dung." Aaric hissed, his anger rising. "You run back to your lover boy and tell him this: If either you or he tries to cross me again, I, Aaric Etherall Tritum, will come for both of you. And you will do nothing about it because you cannot do anything about it. Now get the force out of my sight!"
Lifting his boot, he turned to leave Dolgis to his own devices and entered through the sliding doors with his point made and anger abated. Aaric noticed that Tremel was with another dark-skinned and short haired acolyte with scars crossing from the left side of her face; the physical similarities were quite apparent. Tremel looked up, satisfied at seeing his prized acolyte, not giving away any hints that he may have known what had just transpired.
"Good, you've returned. You seem to be in one piece. Tell me, how do you like your new blade?" Tremel asked.
"Perfect and powerful, Overseer." Aaric replied.
"What are you doing, Father? I only just got my warblade, and I've been here six months!" His now-identified daughter exclaimed. Aaric took the time to admire her. He did not personally enjoy wearing the tight clothing himself, but he marvelled at how well the suit tautly formed around the female form. He drank in her luscious C-cup breasts and tight, round posterior, thinking of how we was going to get his cock sheathed into her succulent form.
"I have my reasons, Eskella. And you will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you hear?" The Overseer stated firmly.
"Yes. Yes, father." She bowed meekly. It seemed she knew when to recognise power where power was due. 'Oh, I would enjoy taking time to dominate her…' Aaric thought. The weathered overseer turned to address him.
"Acolyte, this is Eskella, my daughter. She's one of the advanced student here. On her way to becoming Sith. If she minds herself." He declared with a pointed look.
"I'll keep quiet about your new charge, Father. But I won't be there if whatever you're planning blows up in your face." Eskella snapped and turned to leave curtly.
"Don't mind her." Tremel commented, "She's just sore that I'm keeping secrets. She growls but she's loyal."
'well, I have something planned in my pants ready to blow up on her face, or in her ass.' He thought lustily.
"Now, I thought I heard Vemrin's voice in the adjacent chamber before you arrived. Did he make his move so soon?"
"Apparently. But it was nothing I couldn't handle." The acolyte replied confidently.
Tremel scratched his chin. "hmm, If he didn't attack, he must not fully comprehend the threat you represent. Good, good. Still, I'd hoped we'd have more time. Vemrin's not the type to sniff around for too long before trying to take a bite."
"If he tries, I will make sure it will be the decision he regrets the most."Aaric declared. "However, you still have not told me how Vemrin poses a threat."
"Yes, I haven't. Very astute of you acolyte. Let me explain." Tremel started pacing up and down along the length of his office table. "In a drive for sheer numbers, the criteria for academy admittance has been relaxed. Now anyone, including other species with Force sensitivity is allowed entrance. Thus, Vemrin is mixed blood. The invisible rot eating at the foundation of the Empire. He must not be allowed to advance. Unfortunately, his prowess and successes so far has caught the eye of Darth Baras, one of the most influential Sith Lords. Currently, he's being groomed to be Baras's new apprentice. And if Vemrin does become his apprentice, the power at his fingertips will be considerable. He could change the Sith for the worse."
Aaric nodded in understanding. He could relate with Tremel's objective. Of noble standing himself, he loathed to see or work with people who had little to no powerful bloodline to speak of. Such 'Sith' would be just as useful as giving a lightsaber to a child, using only their baser instincts and limited intelligence. On the other hand, he could also understand the need for the academy to accept more acolyte hopefuls. Casualty rates among trainees were infamously high and if the Empire ever went back to war with the Republic, it would need every Sith it could get. In his opinion, Aaric would prefer that more resources be dedicated to more capable and intelligent acolytes while the lesser ones trained to be more singular in their tasks such as frontline warriors. However, he would have to wait until he had more standing if he ever wanted to get things done. Patience, he mused, would be a virtue.
"You must proceed to your next trial immediately. I want you to interrogate three prisoners in the academy jails and decide their fates. Consider each criminal's story carefully. The decisions you make will be scrutinized, so let your passions guide your judgements." Tremel explained.
"Torture and interrogation? Oh, I will thoroughly enjoy this task overseer." Aaric smirked.
"Go to the academy prison. Speak to head jailer Knash and return to me after you've passed judgement on the prisoners."
A short while later, Aaric was entering the academy jails when he overheard a conversation. Deciding to keep his presence hidden for the moment, he listened in.
"One more chirp from you, little bird, and you'll regret it!" Grunted a bald man sporting a goatee.
"Chirp. Chirp chirp!" quipped a tall, lean and very blue Twi'lek. BZZZZT! The sound of electrification via shock collar emanated within the room. "Arguuhhh! Ow, Jerk! If you don't like that, just say so. I can do other animals too! Dire-cat, frog-dog, Kowakian monkey-lizard, you name it."
The Sith hopeful could not help but smirk at the Twi'lek's antics, yet he also found some small admiration for this alien slave. Any other being would have been frightened or have lost the will to live. How can anyone not when they were thrown into a prison cell surrounded by Sith? Somehow, this Twi'lek; this girl, still had enough spunk to attempt at being humorous at the risk of her own health.
"Ahem." Aaric coughed, making his presence known. Immediately, the bald man spun and directed his attention to the newcomer.
"You. I'm jailer Knash. I run these cells and slave pits. You're the acolyte Tremel sent for the test right?" It was a rhetorical question, so he kept quiet as he looked Aaric up and down as if to calculate his worth. "Hrmph. He thinks highly of you."
"Then I will repay his faith by sticking to my mission." Aaric quipped.
"Then you should know this situation is highly unusual. Normally, an acolyte goes offworld for the interrogation. Overseer Tremel had these three shipped in for you." Knash stated with a quirked brow. "He thinks you're the next coming of Exar Kun. But you ought to know, Tremel ain't the only one paying attention to you."
Aaric took note of the comment, but did not outwardly show it. On one hand, it was good that others were taking note of his blazing progress; his strength and skill would prove useful in convincing or subjugating others for his own ends. On the other hand, those who may have an agenda against Tremel may plot to dispose of him. Another thing was the mentioning of the Sith lord Exar Kun; a name not mentioned often. Most would know of the greater Sith lords Naga Sadow or Marka Ragnos, but Exar Kun was not what one would call a household name.
What many may not have known was that he was once a Jedi, but fell to the dark side and proclaimed as the Dark Lord of the Sith of his time by the spirit of Marka Ragnos, who manifested himself before Exar Kun; Or so the records said. Gathering many followers, which included House Mecetti's own Mecrosa Order, he created an empire of his own and brought with him the Great Sith War to the Republic; earning himself infamy and solidifying events which would lead to the discovery of the true Sith empire and the rise of Darths Revan and Malak. For Knash to know about Exar Kun, it would seem he was more well-read than the typical Sith.
"Now, these three prisoners have been transferred here for your inspection. You gotta interrogate them as needed, and then decide their fate. The convicted are usually executed or given a trial by combat to see if they're worthy. Whatever you decide, you will be the one to carry out the sentence." Knash explained. "let's get started. This Neimoidian on the right. He's a bit of a puzzle. He's called Brehg, and he's a jittery little wretch. Suspected of supplying forged documents to Republic agents. Strangely enough, he maintains his innocence despite being severely tortured."
[That's because innocent I am! Believe me, you gotta! I had nothing to do with forging no papers. Set up, I was set up!] The Nemoidian stood up and pleaded in his native tongue.
"Forging papers you say? Well, who would go all the way to set you up?" Aaric sneered condescendingly.
[No idea. Absolutely none! Did some time, I did, in a Republic jail for forgery, so I was the perfect candidate to implicate in this. But straight I've been since getting out, I swear!] Brehg cried.
"Ugh. He's never wavered from that line, and the evidence is circumstantial. I suppose it's actually possible he didn't do it. So, what do you decide?" Knash sighed.
"Neither, actually." Aaric Shrugged. "He could prove useful. Instead of forging papers for Republic agents, send him to Imperial Intelligence and forge papers for our own agents. You do remember how to do that, don't you?"
[Yes! Yes, of course I do! Just please, no more torturing!] The pitiful Nemoidian cried!
"Huh… you spared him." Knash rubbed his goatee while glancing at Aaric in interest. "Alright then. Guards! Take this slime away!"
Brehg was only too happy to have finally been let out of his cell. He hurriedly followed the two troopers which were guarding the prison entrance to await his new fate. Meanwhile, Aaric went up to the adjacent cell.
"Please, I am a fellow Sith. Judge me with an open mind and grant me trial by combat, I beg you!" The bald and clean-shaven occupant exclaimed. Aaric noticed some cybernetic implants jutting out from beneath his skin around his chin, meaning he may have turned himself partly into a cyborg.
"This pile of waste us Devotek." Knash spat. "Once a valued Sith champion, until he botched an important mission and caused a thousand imperial deaths. Now look at him, pathetic."
"I served faithfully for twenty-four years then one mistake and they threw me away. Now, I have been left here to rot. Please, let me feel the weight of a weapon once more."
"Twenty four years? My that is long." Aaric shook his head in disappointment. "A thousand imperial deaths are too many to justify your mistake. Even I would rather commit suicide than face the consequences. Your body's out lived your usefulness, old man."
"Then I die a disgrace." Devotek demeanour slumped visibly, accepting his fate. "May you one day fail, so that you will understand what I have went through."
"Don't worry." Aaric replied, unsheathing and activating his warblade. "I'll learn from failures; by starting with you!"
Thrusting through the gaps of cell's durasteel bars, the blade easily punctured the part-cyborg's gut. Devotek gritted his teeth, attempting to hold in his wails of pain, but Tremel's acolyte had other plans. He stepped forward, driving his blade deeper into Devotek, then reached out with his hand and grabbed Devotek's face and forehead. The part-cyborg, alarmed by the action, gasped. "W-what are you doing?!"
"Your body may have become useless, but your experiences, your knowledge is still valuable. I will learn my lessons from your mistakes!" Aaric smirked. Concentrating on the dark side, he closed his eyes and gripped the failed Sith's head and delved into his consciousness. The act, together with the blade in Devotek's stomach, proved to be too much and he let out a scream of pain. He could have crumbled to the floor, but Aaric's hold on him prevented him from doing that. So he was forced to twitch and convulse where he stood.
The whole ordeal was over in little more than a minute, and the now-dead Sith crumpled to the floor still twitching with drool flowing from his mouth and eyes rolled up the back of his head. Aaric, however, stumbled back a little bit but managed to hold his ground. Force Drain was a technique taught to him by the Mecrosa's interrogators and to pull out information from an unwilling subject was exhausting to say the least. Fortunately, his years of training and inexhaustible supply of subjects to train on has made this session less troublesome. Of course, he did not simply pull out everything Devotek had since birth; the amount of information would have sapped too much of his strength or overloaded his mind, whichever came first would kill him. Through his past training, he managed to learn how to sift and sieve through memories; pulling only those which were most useful to him; which was his knowledge of the Sith, combat and tactical expertise as well as the events of his last mission which brought him to his knees.
"Good. I won't have to look at his sad, weathered face anymore. Thank you." Knash barked.
Aaric gathered himself and stood straight. He did not want to give any sign of weakness. "Don't mention it." He replied, as he paced to the next cage.
"For this last one-" Knash started, before he got cut off.
"You freaks aren't getting anything new out of me. Just do whatever you're gonna do." A slightly meaty female with short but slicked-backed hair spat. It was obvious she was tortured before, what with the bruises around her face and the caked blood trailing from her nose.
Aaric was slightly annoyed by her disrespect, but he attempted the civil approach all the same. "You can either talk to me or to the inquisitors, woman. And I promise, I have a much sunnier disposition."
"Get lost. I've been through this routine. I already know all your inquisitors by name." She retorted. Truthfully, she could keep up her tough façade. But after seeing what Aaric did to Devotek, she was starting to wonder if it would keep her from dying this time.
"Impudent to the last. As I was saying, she was sent to kill an Imperial spy in the Yavin system. Throughout her torture, she maintained she was hired anonymously." Knash explained.
"Get it through your damn head! I had no idea he was Imperial, and I don't know who hired me!" She all but screamed.
"So, you're telling me you're not a Republic assassin?" Aaric enquired.
"I'm not political. I work for whoever pays." She quipped.
"The point is, she doesn't deny the charge. So, execution or trial by combat?"
"Whatever had happened, this means you're simply a mercenary." Aaric stated. "But an utterly stupid mercenary nonetheless. Even a half-witted one would know that it is basic to know the name of your employer and the background of the target, review the risks and rewards before accepting such a task. Research and preparation are skills fundamental skills a mercenary needs to survive. Anonymous client? Accepting a job with no questions asked? Only a suicidal mercenary would take it. Your story just blew your own cover."
With a twitch of his middle and index fingers in a 'come hither' motion, the self-professed mercenary suddenly found herself pulled forwards and her face and body mashed tightly against the bars of her cell. She gritted her teeth as her face, chest and abdomen were exposed in-between the bars whereas the nipples of D-cup breasts were squashed directly on top of the bars, the rest of her fun bags spilling out from the sides and threatening to envelop them.
"I-I'm a mercenary, blast it!" She sputtered.
"Even if you were one, you're too stupid to survive, seeing as you're already here in this cell." Aaric retorted. Stepping forward, he gazed upon the human female's hourglass form. She seemed a little thick for his tastes, but her shapely figure and large breasts more than made up for it. He decided that force drain would be most appropriate, but the catalyst would be much different than Devotek's ordeal.
"You will tell me what I want, but not before turning you into the whore you are, republic bitch!" Aaric hissed. He grabbed the hem of her pants and yanked them down, tearing through the middle and exposing her creamy, thick thighs. He allowed his hands to smooth over her skin, feeling the quivering of her body as he applied the Force to enhance her pleasure senses a hundred times over.
"Y-you think you can f-fuck me into submission? I've slept with men and women from humans to Wookiees! You Siths g-got nothing on t-themaaAAAGGH!" Her rambling was cut short when Aaric inserted a digit into her wet and now-convulsing and spasming fuck hole. Her body trembled violently for about fifteen seconds before her body relaxed.
"Now how about that, slut? You just came from me inserting a finger in your worthless pussy. How's that feel?" He whispered in her ear.
On the side-lines Knash and the blue skinned Twi-lek could only watch in fascination and morbid curiosity. The chief jailer was not a voyeur by any stretch, but he could not help but feel stirring in his loins at the sight of such type of torture. The Twi'lek, on the other hand had a hand over her mouth in slight shock and the blatant act that was occurring before her. For some reason, she felt the sudden urge to pull her hand towards the area between her legs and start rubbing.
"G-g-g-go to h-hell, you blasted n-nerf herder!" She gasped raggedly. In all her years, she had never cum from just a single finger! It had to be some disgusting power the Sith was using! She felt so violated, but her body was responding against her wishes. It was like as if every part of her body was on fire of the pleasurable kind, and her focus was wavering. But just as she was about to steel herself and give another retort, Aaric plunged another digit inside her; and she exploded once more.
"AUUGGHHHOOOOHHH!" She hollered. Aaric grinned wolfishly as her pussy tightened around his fingers and she came like a firehose over his hand. In the middle of her pleasure-hazed mind, the acolyte once again grabbed the woman's head the same way he did to Devotek and forced his consciousness into her.
Sifting through her mind, he easily plucked the information he needed. Her name was Erin Tassovar, daughter of a respectable bounty hunter. She was not much of a chip off the old block, but attempted to follow in her father's footsteps all the same. Desperate to make a name for herself and being low on credits, she took up the offer to kill a man in the Yavin system without question. However, while tailing her target, she was too noticeable in her movements and the target trapped her detained her instead.
Aaric, knowing all he needed, let go of her head and removed his hand from her sopping hole. Allowing her to crumple to the floor in a wet, messy heap and speaking nothing but gibberish.
"It seems her story checks out." Aaric stated nonchalantly, taking out a handkerchief and wiping away the love juices from his hand. "Too bad her mind's broken a little now. If you want you can use her if you wish, Knash. It's not like I ravished her anyway."
Knash snapped himself out of his stupor and cleared his throat. "A-ahem! I will think about it, thank you."
"Wow," The lithe blue Twi'lek murmured. "I don't know if that's the worst torture I've ever seen, or the best. I can't tell which."
Aaric turned to said Twi'lek and eyed her curiously. Not many would have had the guts to even say anything. Either they were already too shocked to say anything or they feared any reprisals for doing so. This Twi'lek however, seemed to have a little more spine than others. An idea formed in his head.
"And what if I told you, little bird, that by accepting me into your mind more readily it would make the whole process much more pleasurable and better for your health, it would be a tad nicer?" Aaric enquired, startling the alien with an 'eep!' and causing her to look away.
Stepping toward her cell, Aaric extended a hand into it; attempting to touch her cheek. "Come on, won't you sing the song of the mating Kowakian monkey lizards?"
That made her turn her head around and look at the acolyte incredulously as if he had grown another head. "Seriously? You'd want to hear that? It's not the most pleasant of sounds, but if you want I could-" BZZZT! "Aaghh! Hey, we were talking here!"
"Shut up!" Knash scowled, his thumb on the shock collar's trigger. "I wouldn't touch this one if I were you, acolyte. No one's allowed to do anything to her without Darth Baras' say so. He's got plans for her, and Darth Baras is one Sith Lord I would not want to tangle with."
"Darth Baras huh?" Aaric's playful demeanour replaced by one of curiosity, he turned to address the Twi'lek once more. "Seems like I won't be able to play with you for now, little bird. Perhaps we will meet again, in more… pleasurable circumstances."
"Either way," Knash quipped, "It seems you're an interesting one, kid. I can see why people are keeping tabs on you. Your orders are to head to your quarters and rest. Tomorrow morning, head back to Overseer Tremel and see what he thinks of your choices."
With a nod, he bade Knash farewell and strode out of the cells.
"The name's Vette!" The Twi'lek hollered as he disappeared behind the sliding doors.