Enduring the Limit

[Caffeline]

The flagship was as silent as a warship was possible to be at 1:55am as Sah'sha strode from the elevator and turned left towards the acolyte barracks. Occasional imperial officers jogged past with nervous expressions, their shadows flitting to and fro under the harsh lights.

The apprentice dampened his Presence utterly, a campfire extinguished under a bucketful of water, as the doors opened with the standard hiss. He walked inside, pausing for a moment and the head of the line of tables in the middle.

It was almost silent. Steady, soft breathing of exhausted, nervous acolytes. His mask tilted left to right as he sought his prey. A sudden explosion of noise interrupted his thoughts as the Mharnic acolyte let out a bellowing snore, earning a cold glare from the armoured man. No doubt he would mete out a fitting punishment later. For now...

There. On the right side, the bunk beds closest to the window to the void. Sah'sha moved like a phantom, crouching when he reached the bunk bed that housed her. He watched for a moment, glowing ember eyes studying the woman.

Her forehead twitched into a frown as she slumbered, the fresh marks he had inflicted on her cheek already fading due to kolto. Dark hair splayed across the thin pillow, tousling as she turned.

His mask betrayed no sign of his expression. Sah'sha's hands shot forward like a striking snake. Seizing her bicep and bodily dragging her from her rest, his other hand clamping over her mouth as a scream threatened to burst forth. Her startled gaze reflected back at her, brown eyes a mix of bewildered, furious...and rising dread.

Good.

The telepathic tether latched between them.


~"Training pit. Now."~

The burning stare held her hostage until she nodded. He stood, releasing her from his grip to half land on the floor with a thump and turning to leave the barracks. He paused by the door, glancing over his shoulder to ensure she was following.

She followed slowly, tripping over her own feet in tiredness, laces undone and her hair loose down her shoulders. He walked on, leading the way towards the command deck. She would learn about preparedness.

War waits for nothing, after all.

[Caffeline]

Burning ember eyes narrowed behind the mask as Sah'sha entered the acolyte barracks yet again. All the beds were occupied, including that of his prey...but something was off. He dampened his Presence and strode through the room towards her bed. Close to, the lump in the sheets looked suspicious.

He kicked the lump, a huff of amused annoyance escaping as the sad thump of thin bedding tumbled onto the floor.

So she thought she could hide? So be it.

He strode back out from the barracks, his presence reigniting once he had crossed the threshold. He paused, using his advanced Sense to sweep through the floor of the flagship. There were only so many places to hide, and she was exhausted. Prone to making more mistakes. She could not be far...

Sah'sha's helmet turned towards the medbay. Perception flooded his gaze as a small dark lump he had not registered before came into sharp focus. There. Slumped against the bulwark where the corridor to the medbay branched off from the main walkway, was a lump of dark acolyte robes and darker hair. Well camouflaged against the interior of the ship.

He approached, the heavy footballs more ominous for how muted they were. Sah'sha folded his arms over his chest as he studied her, letting his presence blaze through the Force. The exhaustion was telling now; dark smudges under her eyes, hair a mess still after the previous spar, skin paler and the patched-up damage not healing as fast as it normally would. She stirred as her danger sense had to yell in her ear at his proximity, brown eyes twitching open and widening in despair.

Despair...that was new, from her. He savoured the taste. He knelt next to her, the mask close to her face and the burning ember eyes piercing the brown orbs. He cupped her chin in a brief mockery of tenderness.

"Training pit. Now."

Those words had never held such promise of pain.

He released her chin and yanked her up by her arm, his grip bruising as he did not let go, dragging her bodily towards the elevator. She'd shown her desperation in seeking to scrape a few more moments of rest by trickery. Now she would suffer for daring to mislead him...

He would never admit to being amused by the attempt.

[Caffeline]

Jadzia slumped over the mess hall table, her bowl of rations swimming in front of her eyes. Everything ached. Her bruises had bruising. Her head felt filled with plasticrete and about to float off her shoulders at the same time.

~Eat. Fuel.~

Her hand slowly reached for the spoon, raising the cheerless rations into her mouth. She barely registered the wetness on her cheeks as tears of exhaustion welled up and out of her shredded control. Three bites. That is all she managed before that ominous presence loomed over her shoulder. The wave of malice poured around her bring, declaring who it was. Zia tensed, hand dropping the spoon as she reached for her foil.

His hand caught her wrist and pulled her half upright from the table, the cold mask tilted down towards her.

"Acolyte Jadzia. Training pit. Now."

Sah'sha seized her half empty bowl off the table and pulled her away from her seat, ignoring her struggles and the avoidant stares of the imperials nearby. He shoved her bowl into her hands before tossing her bodily into the pit, the screech of his saber igniting the only warning she got.

Zia scrambled to her feet, brown eyes wide as the masked apprentice strode towards her with almost murderous intent.

~Why the bowl..?~

Her stomach growled as his saber carved through the air towards her, the acolyte Pushing herself as far away from the man as possible,  skidding to a halt on the other side of the pit. She scooped a handful of rations into her mouth as Sah'sha lunged after her, forced to duck and dodge the viciously fast slashes of his blade. Zia managed to swallow two mouthfuls before he smashed the bowl out of her hands, cleaving the metal in two. His boot snapped out to kick her hard in the stomach, the blow winding and folding her in two.

Zia's hard earned meal landed on the floor, the woman throwing up as she sank to all fours.

"Get up!"

His saber flashed down towards her neck, the acolyte's danger sense almost deafened by her exhaustion. She managed to roll away in time, his saber slicing the ends of her hair with how close it came. Zia struggled upright, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and drawing her foil to at least meet the punishment head on.

Sah'sha was relentless. Ember eyes burned from behind the mask, his blade slashing and smashing at her defences. Zia was forced to give more and more ground, ducking, dodging and parrying when she could. Her attempts to break his rhythm and press her own attack were swiftly punished, her foil almost cleaved in two by his ferocity.

His clawed knuckles caught her lip as she couldn't quite evade his punch. Her blood dripped from his gauntlet as his saber punished her leg for not moving out of his attack path, stopping short of severance but leaving a deep, burning gash up over her knee towards her hip. Zia fell to the ground, crying in fresh pain and exhaustion, grasping at her leg with her offhand even as her main hand still gripped the foil to defend. Sah'sha finished the spar by smashing the foil out of her hand and holding the tip of his saber an inch from her throat.

He gazed down at her, the otherwise empty training pit silent. He disignited his saber and knelt beside her, holding her chin and wiping a smear of blood from her lip. Zia shook with suppressed sobs, brown eyes full of her misery yet still trying to endure his stare.

"In an hour, we continue."

A sob escaped her as his fingers traced her jawline before he stood. The smell of her vomit offended his nostrils, though the mask hid his distaste. He left without another word, leaving her to limp to the medbay. The whirring of the cleaning droids soon drowned out the acolyte's whimpers, his steady footsteps fading in the direction of the meditation room.

[Caffeline]

She ran. The only steps she could hear were her own echoing along the metal hallways.

Her ragged breathing burned in her lungs.

It wasn't time yet.

But all paths led to the training pit.

No matter where she was, she would be dragged back there. The mask would appear. Those words would be spoken. Her arm would be gripped and she would be forced back to the torture.

It would be less awful if he didn't torment her with tenderness as well. The gentle brush of his fingers along her jaw; the nudge of her hair out of the blood on her face; the sweep of his thumb over her lip.

Not always, but just often enough that she was pretty sure she wasn't imagining it.

But those burning ember eyes were always watching. Always.

"Acolyte Jadzia. Training pit. Now."

No. It wasn't time yet! It wasn't! She stopped dead. It had not been a holo. That meant...

She slowly looked over her shoulder. He stood three metres behind her, armoured and masked, his burning ember eyes glaring from behind the cold metal.

"No!" Zia shook her head, poise and dignity long gone. She broke into another run, heart hammering in terror and exhaustion. She had to get away.

A faint, cold smile passed Sah'sha's lips, hidden by the mask. He reached out his hand and flicked his fingers, yanking the escaping woman off her feet and back towards him.

Zia struggled and spun in the air, desperation at the inevitable gifting a spark of insanity. She drew her foil in midair, twisting herself to attack the apprentice right there in the corridor. The surprise Sah'sha felt did not hinder his reflexes. He swerved his shoulder to the side, letting her blade miss by an inch. Again and again she struck out at him, eyes crazed and wide, her pupils mere pinpricks in the depths of burnished mahogany. Each strike missed, Sah'sha lazily stepping back and back each time.

Then he lashed out. A gauntleted hand shot out and seized the hilt of her foil over her grip. He pulled it out of her possession, his other hand burying itself in her dark hair and seizing the locks at her scalp. Zia's face smashed down into the floor, Sah'sha kneeling beside her and keeping her there until her thrashing ceased.

"A poor way to waste your energy, acolyte."

He pulled her head up and back, turning it to force her to look at him. Burning ember eyes studied her face, a small huff escaping his mask when he saw the small spark of will and determination still flickering in her eyes.

"Training pit. Now."

His grip on her hair was so tight that Zia couldn't even twitch her head let alone shake or nod. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks as he manhandled her by her hair towards the elevator. His pace was steady and unhurried, uncaring of the stares the pair invited by passing imperials and sith.

Zia tried to struggle all the way to the training room, kicking and lashing out with her hands at Sah'sha's frame. He was unaffected and unmoved, the mask turning to glare down at her when they reached the edge of the pit.

Their eyes locked for two heartbeats. Then he tossed her in, her foil clattering on the floor after her. She cowered on the floor, clutching at her head even as her dominant hand reached for her weapon.

"Get up."

His lightsaber ignited.

And so the torment began again.

[Caffeline]

"Acolyte Jadzia. Training pit. Now."

The holo rang out through the ship. Some of the other sith and imperials had started to use the apprentice's holos to keep their own time. Sah'sha strode through the huge walkways and reached for his Senses to locate the unfortunate acolyte.

He stopped. She was already in the training room. He began walking again, his path unerring as doors hissed open and clanged closed after him.

Sah'sha walked into the training room, eyes narrowing as he did not see the acolyte awaiting him in the pit. He paused, scanning the room with eyes that burned with malice.

There she was. Lying on a bench, where she had no doubt collapsed after their previous bout. The injuries he had inflicted were prominent now. Bruising which reached up and around her neck from where he had grabbed and choked her. Burned cuts on her face from where his lightsaber had caught her. Black eyes that spoke of deep exhaustion and punches she had not been quick enough to evade. Her robes were ripped, torn and burned in places, leaving gaps that displayed other wounds he had punished her with. He could see a flash of her left flank through a large hole in her robes; a boot heel shaped bruise blossoming around a huge burn from his lightsaber. His mask tilted as a memory flitted across his mind of pouring Dark Side energy into a deep and grievous injury right there, hearing her screams as he commanded her flesh through force of will, feeling the satisfaction of her flank whole and unblemished under his hands.

He seized her bicep and pulled her upright, watching as her brown eyes opened and focused on him. Without a word, he strode to the pit with her in tow, snapping her hairtie from the dark locks and burning it to ash with sorcery in his hand. She didn't snap at him this time. No angry growl. Just the bone-weary gaze from eyes that had dulled from burnished mahogany to a lifeless mud.

His saber ignited. She drew her foil and assumed the standard ready position.

They clashed. Over and over again. Sparks flew, robes fluttered, grunts of exertion and pain issued forth. Her foil swung and jabbed towards the weak points of his armour, occasionally sending other objects pelting at his back to force his attention to split. It was a good strategy. It was just a shame that she was too exhausted to press the speed necessary for it to have a chance of working.

Still he pressed her. Forced her to adapt, to defend, to move. He herded her towards a corner, swinging his blade up for a falling avalanche...and almost laughed as she retaliated by diving between his legs to escape behind him. His saber crashed down and his boot lashed out, sending her stumbling further away. She recovered and tried to send a Shock towards him, the sparks barely springing to life between her fingers. She was at her limit. A standard week of brutal spars every hour of every day...and only now had she reached her limit.

So he punished her for not being more. His saber swung out towards her outstretched hand, her fingers saved by a mere centimetre as she was forced to back away again. He took the ground she gave, his strength and viciousness finally cleaving her foil in twain. He grabbed the front of her robes and tossed her away from the racks where she could rearm. She crashed and rolled on the floor, gasping for breath as she drunkenly started to push herself back up. Lightning sprang from his fingertips. It caught her fully and cut off her ragged panting.

"Get up!"

She lay broken and still.

Sah'sha regarded the acolyte before him. She lay on the floor of the training pit, finally and utterly spent. The light emitting from the tip of his saber illuminated the various cuts and bruises over her face and neck. He had inflicted them all.

"I said, get up!"

She did not stir, did not respond. Her breathing was shallow, ragged. He disignited his lightsaber, nudging her cheek with the edge of his boot.

Nothing.

Not even her eyelids trembled.

He knelt beside her, reaching out with his Senses; checking if there was any energy at all left for her to draw upon. A huff of air escaped him, finally satisfied.

Almost a full week of intense spars. Every hour. Every day. No rest for the wicked or foolish. He had made sure that she had not slept more than two hours at a time. War did not wait for a rested or fed body. He knew that well. She needed to learn it too.

The backs of his fingers brushed along her jawline up to her cheek, nudging the bloodsoaked strands away from her face. Glowing ember eyes examined the woman he had beaten until breaking over and over again.

His fingers moved to stroke a lock of her dark hair. It was thick, heavy and soft, like silk.

His eyes narrowed. There was a hint of thought.

He lifted her with telekinesis, her frame following him from the training pit like some half-possessed mannequin.

The medbay staff were more surprised to see him than her as he unceremoniously dumped the acolyte onto a medbay bed.

To shut out the murmuring of the staff, orders in a vocoded modulated voice left from under his mask.

"Fix this one up. Prepare her for landing. She has earned.. rest.”

Without any more words, he strode out of the medbay. His lip curled under the mask, clenching the calloused digits into a fist. His robe billowing behind him, he walked off into the meditation room.