Sewing the Seams. [Nestor, Dark Jedi]

[Sanfis Feldor]

The star-lines flashed magnificently by the bridge of the Midnight Owl, each coming blindingly into existence for a mere fraction before streaking off. The hazy tangle of intricate colours that blended to form hyperspace carried them away in waves, providing the only visual companion for those travelling at such velocities. Washing almost melodically across the view-port in front of him, Sanfis couldn't help but stare out at the passing void. It was often calming to see the universe flash by in an instant: Hundreds of systems, thousands of worlds, millions of people and a billions other life forms of every variety. All this passed them by every second, yet it was only a tiny fraction of what the Galaxy held, it was almost humbling. Almost. Kicking off from the ground he allowed the swivel seat to turn, propelling him round to the back of the small ship. The crumpled heap of his only passenger remained in position. Static, unconscious, and bound just in case, it wouldn't do for the man to wake up on the journey.

It all starts for you now Surgeon.. Welcome to change. Sanfis allowed a moments boastful pride to flash across his face. Those had been the last words he had said to the captive, a man known only as "The Surgeon". This particular individual held a bounty on his head worth much of the ship itself, no doubt well deserved, though one which he had now managed to successfully earn. Almost successfully, a little voice inside reminded, the healing wound to his arm giving a vengeful tweak of pain in response. Though it mattered not, no cash would be granted for this accomplishment, simply a new potential who would either strive or die - the way of nature, the way of the force.

The sublights kicked in with a gentle hum, a soft rattle echoing the flashing bleeps now scattering his display screens. They were there. It wasn't long before the view-port filled with the giant orb of Ruusan, sprawling foliage and continents visible on this clear of clear days. Sanfis took only the smallest second to appreciate the spectacle before sending them down in a tight descent velocity. Signalling the landing codes that would authorise them to set down right in the place of trial.

"Surgeon, wake up!" Sanfis struck the mans back with his foot, moving swiftly down the ship to a storage locker at it's aft. Glancing back up he noted the smallest signs of stirring, the sedative had not quite worn off yet. Considering the others rapid awakening, Sanfis worked quickly, drawing a long jet-black cloak about him, it's fabric fancy and neck styled fastenings seeming almost royal. Folding it together he drew the final piece of his guise, the sun-mask of Zoran. Shimmering gold with striking definition it refracted light perfectly, sending a stray beam of sun scattering across the ships length and over the now slightly moving form of the captive. It was time.

Having set the ship down neatly Sanfis lowered it's landing ramp. The garden was peaceful, his arrival having not disturbed any other gathering. This gave him time to lay the now almost conscious figure into the centre, and take his place in the circle of watchers.

"I, Zoran, bring a certain individual for trial. He claimed to be able to sense my power, I ignored him. Having then performed impossible feats in battle it is likely he has potential. May all who wish to challenge his right to as new life, be my guest.. "

[Nestor]

OOC: Nestor is still clad in his silver body suit

Nestor's brain registered the sound of a voice, but who's was unknown to him. His mind was blank, groggy. He was roused slightly further when he felt a heavy thud in his back. He grunted, but felt no pain. He knew who he was, but not where or why. Feeling someone pick him up and carry him a short distance before he was laid down on a hard stone floor. He opened his eyes, his vision in his natural one blurry, but his cybernetic one showed him to be in a stone garden of some kind. This did not worry him. What worried him was the masked figures all around him.

He began to regain the use of his limbs, first with his mechanical arms and then his biological legs. He pushed himself up slowly, swaying as he stood upright. His ankles felt like they had been bound at some point, so he presumed that his arms had been also. Now that his senses had returned, he also realised that his weapons were no longer in his possession, the many knife sheathes on his belt were all empty, as was the sheath of his sword upon his back.

Saying nothing, he looked around at the masked assembly. He could feel the same sort of presence that he had felt around Sanfis. Sanfis. He must be among them. He must be the one who brought him here. So they were all Force users. Not Jedi for certain, but he suspected they weren’t Sith either. Dark Jedi perhaps? He had only heard whispers of such a cult.

“So not only are you incapable of beating me in a fair fight and resorting to sedating me, but now you bring me so your friends can have a go as well? I’m disappointed Sanfis...” He said quietly, but easily audible.

[Revan Luciano]

From those gathered, Revan emerged first. Unlike the typical masks of his surrounding members, Revan's was comprised mostly of cloth, with a single crest atop his brow. Also where some wore robes, he wore more practical clothing for freedom of movement, obviously garments geared more towards combat and an active lifestyle. For the moment he remained in silence, though so too did his surrounding colleagues, content to let him have the first move.

He finally waved towards the man. "Let him have his weapons back." A robed figure ushered forward, depositing the assortment of blades to the ground. "A quick lesson. Their is no such thing as a fair fight. Their is only fighting, and whatever is necessary for the sake of victory. Your ends will justify your means, just as the person that brought you. His ends, justify his means." His hands gestured to the man's leather bound weaponry. "Do you feel more comfortable with those. Do you think they even matter?"

They were deadly, but insignificant. He challenged the man to take them up, in one form or another. If he didn't, however, it wouldn't bother him regardless. "I assure you, we are not so bored that you are brought here for sport. Do not degrade us to the level of Sith. Instead, maybe you should contemplate having been brought here for a purpose. Now what purpose could that be? Why would he need, or want, you here?"

[Nestor]

Nestor watched as the first masked figure stepped forward. He was surprised when the man indicated that his weapons should be returned. Waiting until they had been deposited on the floor, he slowly dropped to one knee, placing the knives into their sheathes. He then picked up his cortosis-alloy katana, inspecting it, running his his cybernetic fingers along the blade.

"When your weapons have kept you alive for as long as mine have, would you not say that you would become attached to them? That they become an extension of yourself?" Nestor said, twirling the blade around in elaborate patterns. Not in a threatening way or a attempt to show off, just so his hands could get a feel for it once again.

Upon the masked warrior's second question, he rubbed his chin.
"A purpose other than to cash in for the bounty on my head? He seemed all too keen to do that..." He paused, he had been about to say last night, "How long have I been out? And where exactly is 'here'?"

While he waited for an answer, he tried to come up with a better one of his own. Why would they bring him here? If not for sport, why would they want him here? He wracked his brains, going through the events of his meeting and battle with Sanfis, then he looked up, eyebrow arched as he stumbled across a particular memory.

"Sanfis told me that being able to feel his presence was uncommon..." He said quietly, "That's it isn't it? That's why I'm here?"

[Revan Luciano]

Attachment to his weapons. Their had been no physical weapon he had felt that attachment too, until he had crafted his own sabers. Now the pair dangled at each hip, resonating with his own energy, instilled and empowered by him through the Force. "You really don't even know what it means, to have a weapon be an extension of yourself." His hand gestured to the sword. "Did you make that yourself? Does it have a touch of your essence in it?" He questioned, curiously, but expectant of a certain answer.

"The Force grants a connection that would dwarf whatever you feel in your sword. You live in a world clouded in shadows and uncertainty, but with the potential to pierce the veil and take a step into a larger world." The Force would serve to provide more questions than it answered, at first conscious touch of it, but that was a necessity of growth. Still, he answered the question in a roundabout manner for why Nestor had been brought before him.

"As for where we are, and how long you have been out, those are irrelevant questions at the moment. They pale in comparison to the reason you are in the first place." His arms took place before his chest, leather rubbing together audibly with the noticeable shift in his stance. "So tell me. They call you surgeon, care to enlighten me as to why?" It was the first step in getting a feel for his character, and whether it was a persona set in stone for him.

[Xion]

A shape walked from the shadows of the trees, Xion had heard the summons and came to simply look. No one had seen her in her costume and the outfit certainly did hide who she was, not just her looks, but her gender as well. All black from head to toe, the only color on her was the red and gold paint on her fox mask. The cut of the cloth gave the impression of a tail behind her and the voice modifier hid her voice.

Long practice made her steps almost quiet on the stone as she took a place beside Revan her silver eyes watching amused. So far she had nothing to say since everything was already spoken. It certainly is interesting being the watcher this time instead of the watched. If it comes to a fight I will participate, but I bet the boys here will most likely take dibs.

[Sanfis Feldor]

Annoyance dawned rapidly across a tightly set and serious face. The hint of the emotion forcing his facial contours to contract and impose, fire blazing momentarily within the emerald pools that gazed so sceptically out towards the centre. Sanfis was not used to taunts, nor to being spoken down to. The reaction blazed furious emotions from his being like a bright storm across an obsidian night sky, but soon dulled as quickly as covering clouds. There was no need to rise to the bait, he was not the on on trial here. To defend himself would be to separate from the crowd, loosing his temper would not help the situation nor create the atmosphere that needed to be created. Thankful that his mask had at least protected him from the visible signs, Sanfis drew his upper body up, cutting in before Nestor had had a chance to retort.

"You are here for that reason yes, but it alone cannot save you. The only reason that you are alive now is for that gift, otherwise you would be quite dead, and possibly making someone very rich" He extended one long arm, sweeping it in an encompassing arc around the other assembled members, his gaze still locked with the man. "You, are nothing. Compared to these you are street vermin, a rat under my boot, or a fish on my dinner plate. You have been brought here to see if you can ever be something better, so you will address them with respect, or you'll journey ends here."

Lowering his arm Sanfis took a heaving breath, relaxing his otherwise dramatic demeanour into a calmer and more focused disposition. He took his eyes off the man for a moment, looking along the group with a searching gaze. Finally resting eyes back upon Nestor he motioned upwards with a quick flick of his fingers. Waiting a few small moments, Sanfis spoke once again, his voice softer and plainer.

"Rise. It is your job to persuade us that you are worth the time and effort. Answer the questions, humble your tongue, and maybe if there is some worth in you you'll be introduced to a world you never even imagined existed.."

[Nestor]

"No, I didn't make it myself, I will admit that, and no it has none of my 'essence' in it," Nestor replied, shaking his head as he began to feel rapidly more out of his depth with every passing second.

He listened carefully to the masked figure as he explained how important a connection to the Force was, as well as how he apparantly possessed such a connection that he had previously been unaware of.

Out of the corner of his eye he registed another figure emerging, one that stayed silent and mysterious. Then a man in a sun mask spoke up. There you are Sanfis... he thought, noting the wording of the man's sentences, wording that betrayed the annoyance beneath them. The annoyance, combined with the man's tone of voice negated the mask's ability to hide his identity, but Nestor said nothing, he simply listened.

In reply to the question about why he was referred to as the Surgeon, he spoke simply
and matter-of-factly.

"Because that is what I am. I was the best on Cloud City before those ignorant fools that run the place shut me down," He explained, "As I explained to our friend, Sanfis, there are many of those who do not believe my ends justify the means of my research. Research and experiments into curing that wretched blight on us that is mortality. I believe science holds the key to becoming indestructable..."

With those words, he slid his katana into it's sheath on his back, flexing his cybernetic limbs before continuing.

"No pain resides in these arms of mine, no tiredness, no infirmity. They are just the beginning," he said quietly, half to himself, half to the assembly, "The price of eliminating these characteristics from whole species... Sanfis agreed with me that it is worth hundreds if not thousands of lives. But being Force from my home has hindered my research, destroyed years of work that I was slowly beginning to rebuild. Until Sanfis came looking for one of my test subjects that is..."

[Revan Luciano]

He contemplated a moment, both Sanfis quick snap to reaction and to put Nestor in his place, and Nestor’s reply to all that had been asked of him. “Well, you have the baseline principle already. The ends should indeed justify the means, so long as the means itself is a worthwhile cause. You seek to cleanse sickness, pain, and so forth through science. I would both agree, and disagree with you, but those are my own personal preferences, perhaps sometime we can have a discussion on that should you make the cut. For now though, know that I understand what you seek and do not look down on it.”

It was the first step towards approval. His goal made sense, the drive and ambition in which he sought that goal, also met approval. “The problem I find with your research to date, is that you draw too much attention to yourselves. If we provided you the chance to continue, and to even learn of the Force and give you the opportunity to apply it to your science, would you reward us with drawing more attention then we wished to us? We are an order that thrives in secrecy, because it provides us an often overlooked advantage.”

He contemplated, his hand lifting to stroke at his chin through the garment. “Of course, it isn’t enough that you might find value in us, and us in you. You have to be willing to see our ideals, agree with them, and wish to make them your own for me to fully approve. An example..” His eyes briefly sought Sanfis. “You were hunted, because you were considered a threat to the galaxy by someone. Well, we decided the threat you posed could be redirected or otherwise be worth the positive you can bring to the galaxy. We make the same judgments all across the galaxy, only in some cases it means the death of innocents for the death of one tyrant.”

[Xion]

Silver eyes continued to study the stranger she still had nothing to say and felt content to watch. She knew she'd have something to say eventually but she wanted to listen first before anything.

[Nestor]

"When one has resources as limited as mine have been over the past few years, you make do with what you can. I have managed to keep myself alive. To me, that has been more pressing than secrecy. After all, this research is not mine alone, it belongs to the galaxy that it is being conducted to help. If, however, I had better resources and better protection, my agenda might be shifted toward the secrecy you seem so fond of."

Nestor stood tall, an empty display of steadfastness. These masked carrion were circling ready to pick him clean of everything he had. He could feel the sweat on his brow, grateful that the watchers could not see it. He had his fair share of doubts, strong ones at that.

"Aside from your offers of training in the ways of the Force, I still fail to see why I should submit to a group of masked individuals I know nothing about. Who are you people? And what are these ideals you expect me to accept so easily as my own? You speak of these ideals vaguely, their meanings hidden. I want more information."

There was defiance in Nestor's voice, but it was only slight and wavering. Nestor was not about to surrender himself so easily, but he was regretting the fact that he had ever invited Sanfis to his table in the cantina back on Nar Shaddaa. What he was regretting more however, was that he had not kept his sword in his hand where it belonged.

[Callista]

Normally Callista, now clad as Acraea, would have tiptoed around the recruit, played cat and mouse with a bunch of inquiries and attempted to mess with his mind, but today was different. There was an unusual dark cloud that hung around the Matriarch as she silently stepped into the courtyard, keeping her presence unknown to the stranger.

The trial this man was about to partake in was of a different approach; not one she particularly was fond of or even one she thought worked, but in his case, she had a gut feeling. And she was in a foul enough mood to carry it out.

Out of seemingly nowhere, a tipped toe of a boot thrust squarely behind the knee of ‘The Surgeon’s’ left leg, just under the plating of his suit caused it to buckle and was immediately followed by a swift kick to its side. A sickening crack echoed in the yard moments before a gloved fist slammed into the side of his head, directly targeting his ear. The metal, although thin, left her hand with a nasty twang that she consciously ignored.

“It seems you enjoy causing pain to others, but how do you take it yourself?” It was rather a shot in the dark that the man might be broken in this manner, but it was a risk she was willing to take. His skills where of great interest to the Principality.

[Nestor]

Nestor had let his guard down. He had been so focused on those in front of him that he had neglected to check behind him. He did not feel the figure's approach like he had with Sanfis and the fox masked individual.

He grimaced but stayed silent as his leg crumbled beneath him. The pain shot through his body to his brain just as he felt a fist slam into the side of his head, making his ears ring and a light flash behind his eyes.

“It seems you enjoy causing pain to others, but how do you take it yourself?”

He stayed silent for a few moments, breathing deeply, before looking up at the masked woman. He had been happy to talk to his captors, but this woman's actions seemed to conflict with the other masked warrior's words about them not bringing him here for sport.

"I'm through with talking. If you want to know how much pain I can take..." He said, the quiet definance back in his voice.
Picking himself up he stared directly into the eyes of his new attacker, "There's only one way you're going to find out..."

And so he stood there and waited. He made no move to draw any of his weapons, in fact he unfastened the belts that held them and let them fall to the ground, holding his arms out wide, palms upward.

[Callista]

There was an unseen frown at his response. Never before had they ever had to break someone in this manner to bring them into the fold…never before had they desired a particular skill as much as his, either. Would it be worth it in the end? She wasn’t sure…but it had already begun and there wasn’t much turning back at this point.

Gritting her teeth together, she struck him once more in the already injured knee, bringing him down again. She almost wished he’d choose to retaliate and strike back…at least then she’d feel the beating was deserved. Without uttering a single word, she spun and roundhouse, drop kicked him in the back hard enough to send him sprawling on his stomach. Following it up with a few punishing blows to the ribcage, Callista then stopped, circling around him twice before stopping and squatting down by his head.

“You have such talent and yet you lack a proper focus. Is there any rhyme or reason to your actions in that little brain of yours?”

[Revan Luciano]

“It’s not about the pain you can take..” He commented to the display, Callista circling him in a very predatory manner. His arms came up before his chest, fingers tapping against bare biceps. “Stand up for yourself, don’t be afraid to fight back.” His eyes cut over to Callista, a smirk creasing his lips, however unseen. Would she appreciate him sicking the new recruit back on her? The way he figured it, she wouldn’t mind, and despite the cybernetic enhanced strength would likely trounce him.

Still, their were questions left unanswered. So while Callista beat on him, he decided to continue speaking, though found it odd given how aggressive in nature he could be as well. “We are Dark Jedi, simply put..” While others might expect a bit more discretion, Revan’s view was that if he was found unworthy or unwilling, then he wouldn’t be leaving to share the information everywhere. “We look at the galaxy, in it’s complacency and stagnation, and see flaws.”

“Corruption controls governments. The galaxy is without order, and we seek to restore it.” His hand gestured briefly, dismissively. “The Jedi would tell you they seek to restore order as well, but they bind themselves by laws and codes, and can never truly accomplish what they wish as long as there are people willing to do what it takes to prevent them. We operate beyond laws, and codes. Anything goes, as long as it serves our end.”