Bastila, Chapter Three

Slowly, Bastila came around and realized she wasn't in the living room anymore. As her vision returned, she looked around her, her mind seemingly under a blanket of cotton and the Force far from her. Taking in her situation and surroundings, she realized she was in a familiar nightmare all over again. Above her, her hands were restrained in archaic shackles, the cuffs glowing a slight blue and cutting into the skin of her wrists. Her feet, or her toes more precisely, just touched the floor, the pointed toes of her boots just able to reach and hold her steady. Looking around the room, her heart sank as she looked from table to table. Before her, spread out as if this were a surgery, were rows upon rows of torture instruments, both blunt and sharp, some she recognized, and others far beyond her knowledge or ability to imagine their purpose. Groaning at the pain in her wrists, she tried to twist, but was unable to gain any purchase at all, her hands unable to fly out of the cuffs and pulling only bringing more pain. Before she could analyze her surroundings again, she noticed that she wasn't alone in the chamber and gasped when she caught site of her captor.

In the corner, lounging in a black, overstuffed chair sat Angel. Focusing on him, she took in the bare chest, the tight abs, and the black, leather pants. He wore heavy boots and studded bracers, but bore no other adornments, his hair pulled back in a tight braid as he stood from the chair. He wasn't smiling now, though.

Standing, he approached Bastila and walked around her. She still wore the dress that Warhawk had bought for her, the few designer items he had bought her coming to near a million credits, and the boots he had handpicked and had custom made for her. Still, she felt naked as Angel's eyes roamed her and was distinctly afraid when he stopped in front of her and let his gaze lock onto her own. With a thought, she reached for the Force, but found it beyond her capacity, the Force deserting her in its slipperiness. The barrier was no longer there, but she was still unable to command or call its power. With a sigh, she lowered her eyes in defeat and despair, knowing that she was helpless again, as with Malak, and fearing the worst. Before this, she had already felt weak, but now...with a surge of defiance, she looked up at Angel, her gaze daring whatever he might.

He smiled.

'I'm glad that you aren't totally beaten already, but don't bother with the Force again. You won't find it.'

Bastila's jaw tightened. 'You have no comprehension of the Force or of what it is capable. It flows through us and strengthens...I will kill you, Angel.'

Angel's hand cracked as he slapped Bastila across the face. Stunned, whatever she had been going to say fled from her mind. 'Don't bore me with my understanding of the Force. I don't care. You can't use it and you are at my mercy. That is all you need to know. Your masters are peons. A bunch of bullies that have no idea the power they wield, Light or Dark, and they hold nothing in comparison to me. They fear shadows and look away in fear when they should confront, explore that which they don't understand. Master Vandar...Master Uthar...Master whoever you want to insert...has no idea the power they command, or that which guides them. I am a Master in both Magic and Psionics. I have explored my nature...allowed it to pass over me and through me, and where it has gone, I have turned to see its path. Where it has gone, there was nothing. Only I remain.' Angel paused and let his words sink in. 'The Bene Gesserit had no idea what they were capable of until I came along...not Stormshadow or the others. Me. I taught them and made them powerful and could do the same with the Jedi Order. There is only one problem. Jedi, in your infinite wisdom, only see the finite. Her very own masters limit even Adria, in all that she has seen and done. A pity. You may have made a difference, but that is the future to you and history to me. Personally, I think the lot of you are pathetic. If you think the Sith are bad, try taking on...planning for the Emperor of Conquered Earth and their master. Much to my chagrin, he makes me look like a boy scout with a case of the hives. Here, let me introduce you to one of his products.' Gesturing behind him, the door opened and a beautiful woman entered, but Bastila was none too fooled by her beauty to miss the glint of cruelty in her eyes. 'And you thought Malak was bad. Sometimes, passive needs to be replaced by dominance. I haven't conquered her, but that will come later. For you, I had to sell myself to her...for a time, but time is of the essence now.' As Bastila opened her mouth to interrupt him, Angel slapped her again. 'Don't. I'm in no mood. Chranas will assist in your turning and then we'll go from there. When you are turned, we will explore and sate you. With luck, you'll live. If not, Adria can deal with you. Prepare yourself. This won't be pleasant.'

Bastila's ears rang from the slaps, but she still felt the defiance rise up and take control. 'Do you intend to try to turn me to the Dark Side?' She spat the words at him, but her heart wasn't in it.

Angel grinned. 'I intend nothing. I will do.'

'I will never turn to the Dark Side again.'

Angel's laugh filled the room. From behind him he heard Chranas Epsilon's laugh join his own, he turning to see her spread out like a serpent among the various instruments of one of the tables. Shaking his head, he looked back at Bastila, barely able to contain another bout of laughter, his voice tinged with it even as he spoke to her again. 'You talk as if you had a choice. Hell, you practically already have and you don't even know it. Like your masters, you are little more than a piece of flotsam...trash...putty. Garbage, Bastila. You are a piece of garbage, with all of your tenants, beliefs, strengths, and weaknesses. You are a piece of trash. You have no idea what you are capable of. Go ahead. Defend yourself...if you can.'

Bastila sucked in a breath. Her wrists hurt and she was afraid. Still, she knew she could defy Angel and the Dark Side, but she felt the doubts infuse her even as she gathered her defense. Something felt awry. She couldn't feel the peace...fear overwhelmed her. Still, she tried. 'You are wrong, Angel. The Light Side is powerful and infuses us all. You cannot turn me. My masters are strong in the force and have guided me. The tenants you rail against guide us and prepare us for the temptations of the Dark Side and there is nothing you can do to me that will lead me back to that place again. In your arrogance, you have already lost the battle...you have given yourself into my hand...you are without power. Whatever you plan to do, turn from your course and accept the wisdom of our teachings. Turn from your dark ways and embrace the peace I offer you. The path you choose leads only to destruction and I can show you the proper way, if you will only allow me to.'

Angel smiled at her naiveté. Shaking his head, he asked, 'How long did it take Malak to turn you? He was, after all, a great master, a Sith of the Dark Side. How long?'

Bastila lowered her head, but refused to answer. She heard Angel's feet scrape on the bare, stone floor, but sensed no other movement than that. For several seconds, she tried to recover before Angel spoke again. 'How long, Bastila? A month? A year? Longer? Less?'

Bastila raised her eyes to his. She watched as he drew back his hand and looked at her impatiently. Sparing herself another slap, she answered. 'A week. Only a week.'

Angel's face turned to one of disbelief. 'A week?! By the gods, woman, if that is all it took, you must be the easiest mark in the galaxy. Chranas, did you hear that? A week. The hope of the Republic is a weak-minded fool. She is susceptible to anything we choose to do and will require far less time than I had intended to invest. I'll be back to work by Monday!' His laughter taunted her as she lowered her head in shame.

Chranas spoke up. 'Let me have her, Angel. Pleeeasseeee? Just for a little while. I'll have her begging to turn in an hour.'

Angel turned and grinned at her. In response, he walked to one of the tables and picked up an object that Bastila was unable to see. Flicking it at Chranas, he said, 'Take off her boots. She won't be needing them.' Turning back to Bastila, he let the object uncoil, a long, thin bullwhip that barely made a sound as it contacted the floor. Grinning at her, he said, 'let's get her naked. It took him a week. I'll only need a day.'

Struggling against Chranas, Bastila tried to kick the woman as she removed her boots and tossed them aside. Brushing away any attempts, she soon had her feet bare and went to resume her position among the implements of torture on the table.

Turning to face her, with his whip in hand, Angel flicked it and a thin streamer of her dress fell to the floor. 'Well, there's a start. Lets get to it then.' Bastila swore as Angel proceeded to undress her.

Bastila hung in her shackles and sobbed. It had seemed like an eternity since Angel had picked up the whip and turned his attentions to her, his grin foremost on his face as he tortured her. Quickly, he had dispensed with her dress, she soon bare in front of him as he circled her and admired her body. Sliding a finger down her cheek, Angel said, 'Now. Let's see about turning you to the Dark Side.'

Bastila slowly regained consciousness and became aware of her surroundings. Her skin burned from the punishment she had received, her resolve crumbling as she reached, but found nothing. Freely, the sweat ran down her body as Angel circled her, his grin taunting, but not victorious. Even as she resisted, she could feel the hate well within her and found it difficult to repress the emotional response. Try as she might, the litany of 'There is no emotion, there is only peace,' did little to influence or soothe her.

As she watched, Angel walked away from her to the table that Chranas lay on and placed the whip there, the tail hanging to the floor, mesmerizing Bastila. Picking up another object, he turned back to Bastila and smiled. 'This, my dear, is an Agiel. I won't bother to explain what it does. It must be experienced.' Walking forward, he touched her just below her throat with it. Bastila screamed under a pain like she had never imagined.

Stepping back, Angel seemed shaken, but still resolved. 'The Agiel is a two edged sword. The user and recipient get to share the pain, at least to some degree. You get the full effect. I get about...half. Two edged. Get the picture? It's fun for both of us.'

Bastila said nothing, her jaw slack and her eyes glazed as she looked at him. So far, Malak had been worse, but the look in Angel's eyes told her that would soon change.

Bastila lay in a heap on the floor. After a time, Angel had released her from her bonds to allow her to writhe freely beneath his ministrations. Leaving her in a heap, he walked away smiling back to the table where Chranas lay. Reaching her, Angel handed her the Agiel and said, 'Why don't you have a go. I think she's close.' As Chranas uncoiled herself from the table, her grin apparent, Bastila's mind snapped and the pain shifted to pleasure.

Chranas Epsilon felt the pleasure rise as Bastila lay at her feet whimpering. At the snap of his fingers, Angel had called Chranas off and had brought Bastila's suffering to an end. Unbeknownst to Bastila and herself, Angel had been concentrating throughout the entire proceeding, his Psionic powers making his mind and Bastila's nearly one as she had been tortured and coerced, the pain and damage she was experiencing only occurring in her mind as he melded with her, he softening her and letting her fears rise and overwhelm her. In the same manner, he controlled the sadistic Chranas Epsilon, also without revealing himself.

With her ability to access the Force gone, Bastila had been easy prey for him, the fact that she was an unconscious and unresisting target, only making things easier. Having used his psionics extensively, he had removed the danger of Chranas Epsilon becoming unmanageable and the turning of Bastila easier, controlling the flow of proceedings. With a word, a snap, he had reigned in Chranas and prevented her from doing real harm to the woman, even killing Bastila. Briefly, he had considered letting Chranas kill her, his problems with the woman gone as she would have doomed herself in her own zealousness, the Agiel killing the user even as it killed the victim, two problems being solved at once, but that was another story, for later. Instead, he called the woman back to himself, ordering her to see to Bastila even as Bastila regained her feet. Seeing the glint in the woman's eyes, Angel knew that she was turned. For now, with Bastila as she was, the Dark Side had taken control and Angel could put his own plan in motion. But before that, he had something he wanted to do first. Telling Chranas to clean her up, he ordered her to be in his own chambers in a half hour. He would explain where they would go from there.

All in all, it had only taken Angel nine hours to turn her. He smiled at the accomplishment even as he regretted the necessity.

Angel walked into his suite at the Cabin and stopped, scanning it for the two women to see if they had arrived, Bastila, his 'victim,' Chranas his accomplice. When he didn't see them, he breathed a sigh of relief, the hardest part still to come. Turning Bastila to the Dark Side had been dangerous, he regretting it, but knowing that it was the only way to purge her of her curiosity, her obsession, with the Dark Side. On the contrary, knowing what he did about people and their psyches, he figured she would be the most prepared Jedi there had ever been to face the Dark Side when he was done, but...He had a moment of doubt. Could he turn her back? In reality, and only to himself would he admit, he wasn't really sure.

Angel had had showered and changed into heavy boots and another set of leather pants, a lace up shirt, and a black duster. Arming himself to the teeth, he walked out of the suite as he pulled the duster on and heading down the hallway to the elevator. Stepping in, the Cabin had required an elevator just for the three levels on the surface and the four underground levels; he headed to the main floor where he had first greeted Bastila. As he walked out, he didn't immediately see either of the women, but he could feel them both, a pocket of fluctuating energy from what he knew to be Chranas Epsilon, she always projecting an erratic aura, flying from lust to invitation to menace to danger and through a whole other gamut of possibilities. On the other hand, he knew that Bastila stood by the doors overlooking the pool, almost a black hole of energy, she one of menace, control, and resolve as she stood there, cloaked and hidden, he finding her in the shadows beside the door, her gaze turned away.

Taking a step into the depression of the room, he looked to his right, Chranas on the couch beside him, reclining in a silk robe that barely covered anything, a glass of Ambrosia in one hand, the other pillowing her head as she gave Angel a Cheshire Cat's grin.

Stopping beside the couch, Angel asked, 'Is she fully submersed? This won't work otherwise.'

Chranas smiled and sighed in pleasure. 'Oh, yes...' her thick British accent held a great deal of pleasure, pleasure so deep that Angel blinked at her. 'I can feel her from here. I may be a mage, and a powerful one at that, Angel, but that woman is scrumptiously evil...Mmmm.' Quickly sitting up and pulling her legs under her, Chranas asked, implored, 'Can I have her, Angel? Please? Just for a night...a day...a few hours! The power I could draw from her when I shed her blood...I won't kill her! I swear by...on...I give you my word!'

Angel looked down at the woman and grimaced. Chranas Epsilon was named so because she was the fifth Chranas the Tintallin's had encountered. The first was a native to Rifts Earth, a Spatial Mage able to affect time and space with her magics. They called her Chranas Alpha. The second, Beta, was from an alternate Earth, one like Rifts Earth, but had been pulled here by one of her other selves and had chosen to stay. The third, Chranas Charlie, had returned to her own world, Scrapers, and continued to fight against an enemy that had enslaved them, but she no longer associated with them. The fourth, she had been the cause of the others. Chranas Delta was a mage that had been captured by a race called the Tarloks, tortured, and forced to cast an Id spell that had jerked the other women out of their existence and into this one. The plan had been to use their combined powers to rule the planet Chranas Charlie was a native to. Fortunately, Warhawk and his best friend Nick had went looking for Alpha and disrupted the plan. Delta had disappeared and hadn't been seen since. Angel presumed she was still on Rifts Earth somewhere. Alpha and Beta had both married into the Tintallin Family, and Epsilon was viewed as a dangerous hanger on. It was all very confusing, but useful from time to time.

Angel looked down at her and said, 'No. You have no trustworthy word to give and you know it. When I have paid my debt to you for your assistance, you will return to your master and tell him nothing of this. If you do, the next time I encounter you, I will kill you. Painfully. And don't think I won't know. I will.'

Her grin only broadened. Huskily, she said, 'Oooh, do you promise? Really? Then pay your debt, Angel, so that I might return to my master and tell him all. After he punishes me for helping you, I'll return to you so that you may carry out your threat. It all sounds so yummy.'

Angel hadn't realized it, but she had taken his hand as she said it. Jerking his hand from her grasp, he said, 'I'll pay my debt and then you'll leave. Do not try me, Epsilon. I will not...'

She simpered, 'You're still pissed that it is you who rule Conquered Earth, aren't you. Emperor Angel, scourge of the known realms, as evil as they come. You should meet your other self. I think you would...get along...until he drank your soul.'

Angel sighed and shook his head. He preferred not to think of the other Angel out there. Frankly, the thought frightened him and the last thing he wanted to do was meet him. In that, he knew she was right. Instead, he ordered her, 'You'll stay here. You have no business where we're going.'

'Are you sure, lover?'

'Yes, I'm sure...and we're not lovers.'

'Not yet.'

'Shut up and drink your Ambrosia, you stupid bitch.'

'Mmm. I love it when you talk dirty.'

Angel knew he wasn't getting anywhere and walked off towards Bastila. As he approached, she turned to him and raised her hands to her hood. Drawing it back, he caught the first site of her since he had turned her and had to admit, she was definitely attractive. It was the first time she had exuded confidence, intelligence, and desire and hadn't flinched when she had realized it. He could tell that she was trying to draw him to her, but he had been trained by, and had trained, some of the finest Bene Gesserit women ever to grace the order and was no weak-minded fool. On the contrary, it was he who had her fully under his charge. He hoped he kept it that way or this would turn ugly.

Grinning widely at her, he asked, 'How do you feel?'

She matched his expression and said, 'Very good. Free for the first time in my life...no guilt...no anger...only alive. I can do what I want, when I want, and without remorse or fear. Yes, I am definitely feeling better.'

'And your thoughts on the Jedi Order? The Council of Masters?'

Her expression...quirked. 'I loath their archaic order and their blind masters. They know nothing of the true power of the Force.'

'And you do.'

Bastila didn't respond. Instead, she smiled. Raising her hand towards the French doors she had been looking out, he watched as they gently opened. Turning, she walked out on the patio, he following, and turned her attention to several of the sculptures around the pool. Holding her hand out towards one, she bent her fingers into claws, the statue starting to quiver as she did so. As it did, she did the same to another, an oversized statue of the goddess Aphrodite. As that one too started to quiver, she turned her attention to another, Adonis, and another, and another. In all, as Angel watched, she focused on six of the oversized granite statues, all of them now quivering down to their bases as she focused on them separately and together. Suddenly, with a wrench, they suddenly shattered and flew towards each other, the power she was exerting sending them flying as if they were shot from a cannon. When they collided, the six perfectly timed, the explosion of sheer power and energy exploded outward, the granite shattering to its core, and explosion of dust filling the air as she powered them before his very eyes. As the dust began to fall in waves towards the pool below, Bastila turned her attention to it and thrust out both hands in the same motion, wrenching them in opposite directions as a grinding noise filled the air. With a sickening crack, the pool and the ground for several feet in either direction split down the middle, the water exploding into the new openings as Bastila exerted her will and the power of the Dark Side. With a sickening snap, Angel rocked on his heels to keep his balance as the ground shook, nearly taking him off his feet on the undulating ground. As fast as she had done it, it was gone, the Olympic sized pool that Angel had vested so much time in, the decorative statues he had overseen in such fine detail, gone. Forever. And at nothing more than the whim of this woman.

Turning to face Angel, a sweet smile spread across her face. Simply, she said, 'Yes. I do.'

Looking at the carnage, he said, 'This is coming out of your check.'

'Try and collect it, Angel. I'll be glad to indulge you.'

He looked at the challenge in her eyes, but decided he had wasted enough time. Instead, he said, 'It is time to go. Tonight, we're going into Denver to...sate your appetites. We'll start on the North Side. All of the slums are there. You can do whatever you like. Most of them are criminals, thieves, murderers, you name it. After that, we'll see.'

'I'm looking forward to it.'

Without expression, he said, 'Let's go, then.'

And so it continued, for several days, Angel taking Bastila on forays in the darker side of Denver, she indulging in whatever activity she deemed fit a the time. He had seen her kill, maim, show compassion, and virtually every other aspect he could think of in a person, but what he saw that interested him the most was the power. Each day, she grew in power, languished in it as she exploited it, his tie inside her mind growing tenuous, his concern about pulling her back growing more and more. But inside of it all, he could feel the emptiness, that hole that continued to grow, she seeking to fill it with violence, power, and control, the chasm engulfing them and growing larger the more she tried to fill it. With her growing hatred and her strength in the Dark Force, Angel knew that soon she would be consumed, whether fully giving over or destroying herself, he didn't know. What he did know was that it was time.

Bastila snapped the lightstaff on, her approach as silent as the night until that revealing glow filled the air. Her grin was demonic, her demeanor menacing, she completely immersed in her power. Stepping forward into the startled men, her very presence was enough to drive them back into the shadows as she stood over their victim. As she stood there and looked at the shadowy figures, Angel materialized into the glow of the lightsaber and grinned at her.

Deeply, he said, 'Time to test your resolve, Bastila. Are you ready for the final step?'

She grinned back at him. 'Of course.'

'Then look on their victim. I give her to you.'

As she turned, Bastila felt a hand on her calf, pulling at her, beseeching her to help, begging deliverance from the men who had assaulted her. Looking down, she met familiar eyes, blue eyes, and knew in that instant what would be required of her.

Looking up, Adria's eyes showed Bastila her suffering, her pain. She had been duped, assaulted, raped, and there had been no rescue, Angel drugging her and then giving her away like a piece of trash. Seeing Bastila had been enough to live, not give in and will death on herself, the tortures and pain she had been experiencing for days leading up to this moment, all a part of Angel's master plan to redeem Bastila. Her eyes spoke of betrayal, of what had been done to her and her lack of power to stop it. Her eyes held fear.

Looking down at Adria, Bastila was empty of compassion for the woman. On the contrary, she could only think of the deserving nature of the woman's punishment and how she had judged and usurped her own place in the Order. As Adria's eyes met her own, seeking solace from her tortures, Bastila's hardened and a smile formed. Looking back to Angel, she said, 'This is my final test? To save the woman who is responsible more than any other for my place in the Order, that which I gave my life to and betrayed me so? It is hardly a test, Angel. Let them have her and be done with it. If you like, I can kill her afterwards, but other than that...' She kicked Adria's hand away and backed towards the alleys entrance. 'Have at, gentleman, if you will. Take that traitorous bitch and do with her as you will. I have no use for her whatsoever.'

As the men started to move in on Adria again, Angel's voice cut through the night like a knife. 'No! Stop, Bastila. Your test is not Adria. Your test to complete your turning...is behind you.'

Turning, Bastila's eyes widened even as Adria screamed behind her.