Sarkell - Mother

[Reddnn]

It had been mere hours since her departure from Dathomir. Sarkell had never once seen the exterior of the prison complex she’d been confined to, and windows were a privilege only afforded to the wardens. The woman had handed Sarkell a veil to wrap around her eyes, instructing her to protect her vision from the blindness that would be caused by her lack of exposure - something that she assured they would improve with time. Even through the fabric’s protection the sheer amount of light and heat that bore down upon Sarkell upon her first steps outside the compound were of an intensity she could not have prepared for. Before she had much of a chance to truly bask in it’s glory, she had been ushered into the ship she would eventually come to both adore and dread.

The woman introduced herself simply as “Mother” though, she was clearly not Sarkell’s blood. She had much smaller cranial horns, than the Zabrak that Sarkell knew of, and her tattoo-less skin was a deep crimson tone. What struck her as the strangest part however was the fact Mother had a few strange protrusions that framed the sides of her mouth, unlike any alien the Zabraki girl was familiar with - which granted - was not an extensive list. At first she thought she might have been some kind of malformed Zabrak, but when Sarkell had posed this question to Mother - she received a swift smack across the face. ”I am not one of your filthy kin, child. You will do well to remember this.”

Despite the cold, harsh way she regarded the young Zabraki girl, Mother spent a large portion of her time tutoring Sarkell in various things. She started with reading and writing Basic. Her methods were not unfamiliar to Sarkell - often being beat, swatted, or punished in other ways for performing below the standards Mother had for her - which were quite exponential. Sarkell learned quickly, as there was little else to do on the silent ship as they floated through unknown space. When she finally had reached a point of satisfaction to Mother, she was granted access to a new room in the ship. A library.

The vast majority of the books and dataslates within the library were written in languages foreign to Sarkell, though she was forbidden by Mother to even touch them regardless. Instead, Mother would pick individual books out and grant them to Sarkell to study. Hungry for any meaning and purpose to this strange new life that had taken her - Sarkell did as she was bid. She devoured through each book, all which delved into the mysteries of this Force that Mother had vaguely described to her.
”You have a sense for the Force, child. It is a great power that you will either master - or it will destroy you.” When Sarkell had begun to question further, she’d been shushed. ”There are two sides to the Force. The Light, and the Dark. You, child - have an innate connection to the Dark. One that I intend to study.”

The presence that Sarkell had taken as her companion over the years had been this, as she’d learned. It was what had allowed her to expel the energy that had caused her to fall from the ventilation. As her understanding of the energies that surrounded her improved, she began to understand that the fear and discomfort that she felt when Mother was near was not simply due to her conditioning by the wardens, but a product of Mother’s own mastery of the Force. Throughout the following months, Sarkell came to understand that while Mother would not answer any direct questions about herself, questions about the Force and the nature of it - especially pertaining to the Dark Side - were encouraged and rewarded.

One evening, after Sarkell had a particularly successful day of pleasing Mother with her progression of studies, she was brought to Mother’s personal study within the ship. It was a simple room, though there was an alter of sorts beneath a wall plaque. Sarkell was guided to kneel before the plaque, in a language that while she was not familiar with, was similar to some of the spines of the old books that Mother kept in the library. Mother knelt next to her, and translated the plaque.

“Remember this well, child.” She’d begun.

“Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.
Through Passion, I gain Strength.
Through Strength, I gain Power.
Through Power, I gain Victory.
Through Victory my chains are Broken.
The Force shall free me.”

[Reddnn]

A year had passed since Sarkell had been taken away from Dathomir’s prison - though she did not feel any more “free” within the confines of Mother’s ship. There were no other people on board, a far cry from the constant shifting of both wardens and prisoners back home.

Mother kept her busy, however. Sarkell was tasked with a strict regime of meditations, reading, writing, more meditations, philosophical lectures, and what Mother called ”Resistance training”.

As Sarkell’s grasp on Basic language improved, Mother allowed her to explore her own Zabraki tongue. She’d been given permission to study one of the primers that was kept in a particular bookshelf alongside a number of galactic languages. She relished in this, an exploration of her own blood’s culture - even at a most basic level. She knew a few basic words already, the ones that the wardens had taught her in order to give her orders for various chores around the prison. There were some words she did not entirely understand the context of, such as the Zabraki word for “Trials” which seemed to have it’s own unique meaning - but the primer did not hold those secrets. Sarkell resigned to learning what she could in hopes that some day Mother would grant her permission to read books that would explain everything she was missing.

Meditations were a break from the constant study, but were their own form of training as Mother had instructed her. To foster her relationship with the Force around her. Sarkell did not entirely know what Mother meant by this in the early days, though as time passed it became clearer. Though she felt - and was - quite alone among the ship that floated through space unknown to her, Sarkell’s exploration of this creature of the Dark rewarded her with a strengthening of that presence she had always felt alongside her. She could feel it brush along her skin on occasion like a serpentine coil, or spidering up the base of her skull with thin, skittering legs. On rarer occasions, she’d feel a heat in her chest that burned low, before cooling into a paper thin layer of ice within the walls of her veins. Mother, who supervised some of these meditations; seemed pleased with this.

On days where Mother was satisfied with Sarkell’s progress, she’d allow her to ask questions on the nature of the Force, the Galaxy, on Life, Death, and People. Sarkell did not have much in the way of experience with people aside from Mother and the wardens, but she would still ask as many questions as she could. These were the only times where Mother’s demeanor seemed to soften, and Sarkell relished in it. It was the small amount of freedom to think and wonder and explore while simultaneously being the singular example of a meaningful connection with another sentient being she’d ever experienced. Mother always challenged her questions and opinions as she developed them, and Sarkell would spin those challenges back on Mother. This would go about in a circle for hours, and was often the highlight of Sarkell’s days.

Those lessons would always result in a bout of the ”resistance training” however. Mother would always remind her of it towards the end of their conversations. ”A positive experience must always be corrected with a negative, child. You cannot forget the nature of the Dark. If you do, it will consume you. Through this, however - you will gain the power to consume it.”

Then, the torture would begin.

[Reddnn]

Sarkell knelt in the center of the meditation room, hands on her knees. The air buzzed quietly around her as she focuses on the raw, invisible energy that floated about the space surrounding her. She’d draw it in towards herself on an inhale, the sharp pricks of electricity dancing across her skin. On an exhale, the energy dispersed into wild curls and crackles that flit about the room.

She’d gotten quite good at manipulating the flow of the Force around her - her connection to the Dark had bloomed throughout her training. She’d become able to telepathically move small physical objects around - though her precision was still in need of fine tuning. Electricity and raw energy were still where her largest strengths remained, though she did not slack on any of her studies.

Mother had entered the room, and flicked her fingers in a sharp upwards motion with a low mutter. Sarkell was suddenly on her feet and stood at rigid attention. Mother did this often - using her own abilities to adjust Sarkell to where she was desired to be.
”We will be making a stop to restock fuel and sustenance stores.” The crimson faced woman informed. ”I have decided that you shall be issued your species’ Trial. You must be reminded that you are Zabrak. Lesser.” Mother never spoke about other species with anything more than pure distaste. ”Should you fail, the time I have spent on you will have been wasted. Do not disappoint me.”

Sarkell knew that whatever waited for her upon the ship’s descent into a port, it would not be easy not pleasant. If she failed whatever this trial was to be, Mother would ensure that the punishment met the range of her disappointment - which was far more vast than any of the warden’s had ever been.

~

Sarkell had been instructed to remain on the ship while Mother was out. This was an odd experience - being the one living creature aboard. Despite her lonesomeness, Mother had still been there in another room. Now, she was truly and utterly alone. A part of her considered exploring where she was not permitted, or to steal away into the library to delve into forbidden books. Ultimately, she decided she did not want to suffer the wrath of Mother should she be discovered.

Upon Mother’s return, Sarkell was called to join her in the meditation room. She did not expect to enter the room and find another person there with Mother. A Twi’lek boy, likely not far off from Sarkell’s own age. He was filthy, far from the cleanliness that Mother kept the ship and Sarkell. Torn clothes, grime smudged across his face. He knelt down next to her, facing the doorway where Sarkell had entered. When he glanced up to see the young girl - a small flicker of hope crossed his eyes.

“This is your Trial, Woyunoks” Mother began, her iced voice curling around the word that she occasionally reserved for Sarkell. “You will give this slave Freedom.” She enunciated freedom carefully, eyes leveling like sharp thorns to Sarkell. With no more of an explanation and a coiling of black robes trailing behind her, she left the room, door closed behind her.

The boy’s gaze darted from the door to Sarkell, and he exhaled a sob. He chattered something, his lekku waving about. Sarkell did not know the Ryl tongue, and she stared back at him blankly - her attention elsewhere. ”Give him Freedom.” she’d voice in her mind, though the words slithered about like damp tendrils, leaving a trail of ichor on her thoughts. Sarkell had heard the click of the outer latch on the door behind her as it closed - whatever freedom was to be given - it was within this room.

The boy continued chattering on, an expression of relief upon his face, though when he finally noticed that Sarkell was not responding to him, he trailed off. He curled his lekku as he asked something that ended with the inflection of a question. When Sarkell responded with only the controlled shake of her head, the boy exhaled in anguish and curled onto the floor. She’d not moved from her spot, almost frightened of the fact this strange boy was in front of her. It had been three years since Sarkell had been taken from the prison, and this was the first other sentient that she’d seen since that day.

*Freedom. The word echoed once more in her mind, bubbling up from the remnants of that ichorous residue. She considered her lessons from Mother. Lessons of pain, power, fear and the Dark. She knew what the answer to this Trial was, the question was more towards her own capabilities. She’d glance over her shoulder towards the locked door. Sarkell knew Mother was watching in some manner.

When Sarkell stepped towards the boy on the floor, she once more drew upon the air. The flickers of possibility and power that she could feel and see in her mind’s eye. The boy looked up to her, confusion giving way to a primal fear that Sarkell knew all too well.

”Find freedom through the Force.” she’d utter as she expelled the boiling energy from her fingertips into the boy’s skull.

~

Mother leaned back from Sarkell, drawing her sleeved arms back into her lap as the tattooing device floated to the side to rest on the table. Sarkell blinked, her eyelids slightly swollen from the ink the skin had received. It had hurt - as Mother had promised - but it was a good kind of hurt. One that Sarkell knew meant she’d done something to make Mother proud. At least, as proud as Mother might be of her.
”There.” The woman’s voice curled along the back of Sarkell’s skull - though her lips did not move. ”Remember this Trial well, for it marks your success not only in your lessons but also as a member of your species. You will one day walk among others, and you must be able to show your strength to them.”

”Yes, Mother.”

[Reddnn]

No longer a child, yet far from an adult. Sarkell’s training had ensured her connection and ability to will the Dark to her purposes grew exponentially. The monotony of her routine was only broken up by the occasions that Mother let Sarkell’s body rest after particularly intense sessions of resistance training. As the time had passed, Mother locked herself away in her study for consistently extending sessions while Sarkell was instructed to practice her various studies. She was required to be completely and utterly perfect before being allowed to move on to the next - which lead for slow, yet definitive progress.

Sarkell would wander the halls of the ship during these periods where Mother remained secluded, meditating all the while as to ensure if she was caught there was ample reason to explain her movement - the practice of multitasking - something that Mother put a particular emphasis on. Someone who could meditate, draw on the Dark in that increased connective state - and simultaneously use it - would be significantly more adaptable than one who could not.
Sometimes Sarkell would open her eyes to find herself standing outside of Mother’s study. A feeling she could not ignore would pull her there, that there was something happening behind it - something important. Even with an ear pressed to it, no sound escaped. Without sight or sound, Sarkell could only guess from the pit of dread within her gut that whatever Mother was doing was intensive and immense in power.

The more she feared Mother, the more she seemed to learn. The more the power that could be pulled to her fingertips lessened in it’s friction, and came to her smooth like glass. When Mother expressed praise in Sarkell’s work, she’d caress her face - and blind the Zabrak with white hot pain that ricocheted around her skull. Fear synonymous with power, pain synonymous with praise. Gradually, she forgot the small comforts of her home on Dathomir; the warmth and safe seclusion of the vents, or the sound of footfalls lulling her into sleep. A conditioning of Mother’s creation that Sarkell would not come to understand until years later.

The purpose which Mother had planned for the Zabraki child she had plucked from Dathomir’s
prisons was slowly coming to fruition. A vessel for the energies of the Dark who knew nothing of Light. Why? Mother never shared. Perhaps that was integral to the success of this experiment. Mother had everything planned out carefully, control entirely within her grasp.

However, Mother failed to predict that the Fear fostered within Sarkell would eventually reach a point where even her careful conditioning could not prevent the Zabrak’s escape.