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Meracus

Sith Apprentice
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About Meracus

  • Rank
    The Galaxy's Most Sinister OB/GYN

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    Corruption I
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    Hssiss Pet (10SP) 13 - 10 = 3
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    Not Telling
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    8

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  1. When you try to write something but the only thing around you is brick walls.

  2. Things later today, for now, much sleep will be attempted.

  3. Stand Up and Scream

    "I would hardly consider the Dark Side a fall from grace..." Meracus offered, though it was all she offered for the time being. It was not beyond her peers to understand the ignorance of the Jedi Code. There was something to be said about understanding one's enemies, even if the Sith were not currently in the fighting form to battle the Jedi as they once had been. That was a bitter pill to swallow, but it had begun to pass with the progression fo the Sith Remnant under Darth Atrox's guidance. The Pureblood watched the both of them stand off with one another though, and enjoyed the sensation of fear and strife. It was revealing though, that the boy had mentioned he'd never been a Jedi Knight. Did that mean he had been an Initiate, or Padawan? There were questions, questions that she wanted answers to in due time. For now she could at least enjoy his feeble attempts to land a meaningful strike on Corvus, and consider her options in the future for how best to deal with the short one hiding information from her. Meracus thought for a moment though, and looked at Corvus rather than Ren, "The boy may well have been some kind of Jedi then, by the sound of things. If that is the case then he might know something about them that could be of value, yes? Maybe not, but it would be remiss of me to not find what he may be hiding from the Remnant." She said with a wicked predatory grin. Her prominent teeth vanished though as she spoke up, "It occurs to me that there is no better candidate for instruction among the Sith than a former Jedi. Who better to facilitate their demise than one who had been among them? That first-hand experience in how the Jedi approach things could certainly be a valuable asset to him once he overcomes his weakness. Do you agree?" She asked Corvus, still trying to appraise Ren more than pay any heed to the fact that he was armed with an actual Lightsaber.
  4. Stand Up and Scream

    Meracus could not help but smile at the boy's determination. There was certainly something to be said about his willingness to raise a lightsaber to a stranger with the intent to strike out at them. However, she could not feel a willingness to kill in him that other Sith hopefuls would have had by now. In a cutthroat society those willing to cut throats were the ones to advance, and those with their throats cut were forgotten to the obscurity of time. As it stood now, Ren appeared to be the one that would end up dead before his time and all because he was too weak and too unwilling to go the distance for what he desired most, which was power. The only problem was uprooting that desire and placing it in the forefront of his mind, which she had failed to do in their two meetings. The question though, piqued the Pureblood's interest. The exchange was as brief as her attempt to manipulate his mind. He had answered, not fully honestly but not truly deceptively either. That he had blocked her out of his mind for the time being was impressive enough though, something that would have been a point in his favor. Of course it had irritated her, but either way he had managed to keep her from forcing his hand. Meracus looked at Corvus directly though, putting her hand on the grip of her lightwhip and squeezing, "My honest opinion of him conflicts in several ways. In my first meeting with him he observed me performing a standard liver transplant procedure in full, and his weakness showed when he paled from the sight of blood even in a sterile medical environment. However, he did not look away. To me it signifies a desire to learn, even though he is apprehensive about certain subjects. He also exhibited a total lack of control when I allowed him the privilege to attempt basic first aid on one of my other patients. The boy sutured an open wound fairly skillfully, however the Sith that he treated continued to jab at the fact that he was small, and frail, built like a slave. He restrained the patient by force with the Force, which while impressive in some ways, showed me that he lacked emotional control over himself." She said, expounding a little on the topic of the boy they had begun to treat like an examination or a subject for observation. She too ignored him now, as if he was just something on the periphery that was attempting to garner thair attention. Thus far, he had done nothing to warrant it so far. "When I spoke with him in my office, he showed great fear toward having pain inflicted upon him. Even a simple application of pressure from the Force caused him to stiffen up and go quiet. When placed under duress his response is appeasement. He clings to some sort of sense of self-denial, he is obstinate and in equal measure obsequious with the proper stimuli. While he pushed a large Sith over with the Force, he also bowed to me and even kissed my ring. He is duplicitious and opportunistic, but I still feel in him a deep reluctance to accept the Dark Side's power. It is my opinion, that he is hiding far more from us than he is willing to divulge without proper stimulus. There are other methods by which I could extract the truth from him, but I would rather have had him be completely open without even having to toy with his mind. I could set aside time to torture the information out of him, which would work in time, but the problem is that it would take time and there is no telling how long he would persist with deceits until I break him." Meracus continued on, speaking like an academic, someone who had spent quite a lot of time reading people as part of her life. She had been a torture specialist on Korriban back when the Sith still controlled it, so it was only natural that he had developed this sort of skill. Her irritation that Ren was hiding things from her grew as she offered her thoughts, "If his weakness does not see him killed here, then it will be his stubborn refusal to accept the power of the Dark Side. This enters the realm of conjecture, but out of several edge cases when I was torturing those unfortunate enough to have ended up in the holding cells on Korriban, the ones most reluctant to accept the Dark Side as power or use their anger and hatred, were typically former Jedi that had ended up in the Sith Academy for one reason or another. I cannot say with any certainty, but Ren acts as if he is clinging to some hope that he will be able to go to the Jedi again and resume some life he led before ending up among us." Meracus paused for a moment to finish her statement by staring directly at Ren, "But, if I find out that he has hidden this information from me then I will make certain to bleed him until he tells me every little detail of his life, hidden or otherwise. He cannot keep secrets from me for long."
  5. Stand Up and Scream

    More than anything she was pleased that the boy had answered the questions the other had asked. Still, she could tell he was reluctant, and his fear of answering the question was not lost on her. Meracus could feel his unease and uncertainty, just like she had felt it on Ziost when he observed her surgical procedure. The Pureblood could answer the question herself, and she knew it, so the expression on her face was one of smug satisfaction. "I could answer that for him, but I would rather hear his honest answer. His reluctance to answer though, should be obvious. I could feel his apprehension." She said, her arms crossed and her tone still polite. "I will save my appraisal of him for when he is done finally being open and honest with his answers." Meracus spoke directly to the larger male this time, before shifting her attention to the small one, "Isn't that right? You want to answer all of his questions with open honesty and tell him everything that he wants to know." She finished with a subtle wave of the hand and a sweet tone of voice. It was an attempt to alter his mind enough so that he would be completely free with what he was being asked. It was a simple mental persuasion technique though, so if it was shaken off by someone who had shown even the modicum of aptitude in the Force that he had shown in subduing the patient he stitched up then it would only be a mark in his favor to her. Either way, she was going to learn something about a potential student, which was enough for her to be pleased. Still, Meracus loomed like a large predator over the two of them. Her chin was raised a bit, almost as if she was a disappointed parent when she looked down her nose at the smaller male. Still, she did not raise her voice or even change her tone. It was always quiet and collected speech for her, and those rare times when she did break that it was not a time that either of them really wanted to be around. Her temper had a very long fuse certainly, but once something did set her off then whatever that thing was had a very limited amount of time to calm her or find itself on the receiving end of her fury.
  6. Stand Up and Scream

    Meracus shifted her stance to listen to the brief exchange. Of course, she was more surprised than irritated that someone else had come to speak to the boy. It was not as if he appeared to be some kind of hot commodity waiting for a master to mold it into shape. Perhaps she had undersold the small one before her, or perhaps this one overestimated him. Either way, someone was wrong and she hated the idea that it could potentially be her. Still, the questions asked by both sides had plenty of merit. There was no use in him attempting to learn more than his body was capable of, and in the same token, it was no use training someone who had no motivation to learn proper methodology for utterly dominating their opponents. The Pureblood withdrew momentarily for her own personal consideration. She had already informed the small one multiple times that failures were lucky to be enslaved rather than killed, but there were worse fates than death among Sith with the proper power. He had not shown much combat promise though, and while he had his own set of unique abilities which he seemed quite eager to point out, none of them were remotely related to the Dark Side or self-defense. She did have some use for someone skilled in mechanical and computer sciences though, which made her reconsider her undervalued appraisal of the boy. Any question of his ability to learn was pushed by the wayside though, as she was quite curious to see what it was he thought of himself more than what she could tell him to be. She looked to the seated one and finally spoke up, "These are perfectly reasonable questions. Do try to be honest like he asked, considering he was kind enough to take time out of his schedule to offer you his insight." She said, holding onto her opinion for the time being. Whoever the armored figure was had shown only part of his metaphorical hand, but the card he played was a sound one. He was by no means ignorant or brutish in spite of his appearance, and Meracus could appreciate someone who seemed to be an insightful thinker. If there was time then she would have to catch his name, if only to keep him in mind as a potential resource down the line in her own works.
  7. Stand Up and Scream

    For someone of her height, Meracus moved surprisingly quietly when she wanted to. The Academy on this planet was active, populated, and buzzing with new hopefuls and Acolytes that entertained the notion they would become the next apprentice selected by the number of masters still within the Sith Remnant. That was, after all, why she had come to this place. The student she had hosted on Ziost in the surgical suite had come back here on her command, and only now had she come back to personally examine his abilities in the more base skills a Sith should have before becoming an apprentice. She had brought her whip with her this time, as it was a useful device to both discipline and test those she may consider interesting enough to teach. It was not, however, as if she expected any of them to know how to deal with her choice in weaponry, but their ability to improvise was what she was looking for more than anything. If there was one thing she could say with certainty, it was that all battles were uncertain, and relied more on the combatant's mind in the face of adversity than the power of the body. She wanted someone with an active mind, and would select them nine out of ten times over those who relied on brute force. "Come now, you cannot let someone else crush your spirit. That would be my job..." She said, approaching the familiar meditating face. The look on Meracus' face was a mix of annoyance and entertainment. She had watched the boy fail miserably, she even watched him as he stared down the slave and his opponent. To say the display was feeble would have been an understatement, but she could not deny that his tenacity was something to consider a mark in his favor. "Did I not tell you that those unworthy of instruction were enslaved? Do you feel the squeeze of the collar around your neck yet? I could have them throw you in irons and recondition you to be useful to someone, but that would be a waste, would it not?" Meracus continued, arms crossed as she stood before him. Again she wore a form-fitting all-white ensemble that looked entirely out of place among the Sith. The only pieces that had not been white were her boots, her belt, and the armguard that accompanied the whip that was clasped to the belt. "I watched your efforts and I must say I am disappointed. Your body and your mind did not look as if they were in concert with one another. In a live battle you would have been dead several times over. Your mind will always be more powerful than your body, boy. Never forget that you can always use your mind and the Force to overcome those limitations. Tell me, what were you attempting to do out there? You have to have some reason for being so poorly prepared for basic combat training, right? You learned from me once before, but that was simple medical science. What I can teach you goes far beyond that, if you so desired it. I can offer you power...the power you need to never fear being collared as a slave ever again. If you serve me faithfully you will become more powerful than you could ever have on your own, but if you fail me I will slap a slave collar on you myself. Of course you are free to decline, but I will not be around to pick you up if you ever come crawling back into my medical offices." She asked, more inquisitive than ever. Her interest in the small man was sparked by his desire to learn medical sciences, but spurred on by his connection to the Force. Anyone could become a Sith acolyte though, it took more to become a successful apprentice and even more to become a Sith master. If he failed, he failed, but if he could survive her instruction
  8. Ascension of the Pure

    There was a fearful anger in the pit of her stomach that felt like a weight sinking deeper in. Her heart had been released and the bloodflow would return to normal, but even the minimal threat of an arrhythmia was something that stuck with her. The medical consequences were a long list, but what had actually took place within her was up for debate until she was evaluated by one of her peers in the medical world. She had been given leave to stand though, and stand she did after taking a kneeling position with her head bowed and both fists supporting her from swaying to either side. She was told to seek clarity in the near-death cacophony of voices in the Dark Side and she had found it not a moment too soon. Any longer and she likely would have had her heart crushed entirely. An inglorious end to someone who had such high hopes for their life's work. That was when the question of the work she had salvaged rose. Of course it was only natural for her to want to display it, but now she was fearful of doing so. She was not sure just how much Darth Atrox knew about the sciences, but she did have the datapad on her. How to breach the subject though? What would be his point of interest? He was the Sith'ari he could ask for anything, but what kind of man was he beyond being deeply embedded within the Dark Side? The Pureblood pulled the datapad out and rather than move offered it telekinetically to Darth Atrox, "In this datapad you will find research data regarding numerous subjects. There were several projects being undertaken for the military, the largest of which was the development of a powerful mass driver weapon system meant to be mounted on fast-moving Corvette-class vessels that could turn them into potent threats to larger capital sized vessels. The intent of these weapons is to bypass standard ray shielding in order to destroy important hardpoints on enemey vessels. In the same vein, work had been done on the development of ground deployed railguns for general defense purposes. Most fo the data regarding tests done over the erosion of the rail and the ablation of the projectile. Standard railguns operate at around six kilometers per second in terms of muzzle velocity, but with the proper materials listed in the datapad we believed it possible to create an even more potent railgun capable of achieving muzzle velocities up to ten kilometers per second. Obviously the cannons would likely be stationary as the idea of fitting a power supply necessary to put it on something such as a tank is impossible, though some of the scientists theorized that it could be applied to a larger armored vehicle, one with either much larger treads or with a walker propulsion system." She concluded, at least with the military experiments going around. Still the Pureblood persevered more so than ever, "Medically speaking there were only a few experiments regarding the speed of cloning and how to potentially accelerate the process without the negative consequences of forced accelerated growth. Thus far those have proven to be dead ends and everyone working on that experiment died in the invasion so far as I know. One of the more feasible experiments though was the speed of cloning organs for transplant which can be used to alleviate the demand or need for the more expensive cybernetic replacements. They are also, in my experience, much easier to implant into the body. My own work though, which I salvaged, was in studying genetic codes and tags across my own people in order to try and discover what it was that caused the birth of a Pureblood to human parents, and how far removed the genetic codes can be before Pureblood traits such as my own become too recessive to notice. It sparked some discussion among my peers but they ultimately had little interest in attempting to retro-engineer the Sith species through genetic drift. The other aspect of that research was to discover what it was about my people that cause us to thrive on the Dark Side's power, while many other species suffered deleterious effects with the idea that it might be possible to latch onto this trait genetically to pass it down, thereby creating a future generation of Sith that need not be Pureblood to avoid the...side-effects of long-term exposure and use of the Dark Side." She offered, finally finishing her assessment of what she remembered from the datapad. She realized that the weapons development programs were far more feasible than her early-stage genetic research or even the enhanced organ cloning, but there was at least a wide array of topics that the Sith'ari could endorse or hopefully find use in. Whatever Darth Sanguira wanted of her, she would perform, but she did not actually like the idea of having to abandon her genetic research should that be the case. Whatever the Sith Remnant needed of her was ultimately more important though, and sacrifices had to be made.
  9. Transplant

    It was very clear that Meracus quite thoroughly enjoyed punishment as a teaching technique with how readily she resorted to it. Pain was an excellent motivator to both learn and grow though, as the prospect of preventing this pain often had the desired effect. The young man would either learn his place while he was around the Pureblood, or she would dispose of him and move on as if nothing happened. In th ene he was just another prospective student and so far beneath her that his death would likely do very little to hinder the Remnant. That initial assessment seemed to be slightly off though, as unlike last time when the boy went to his knees and kissed her ring, he fought back. She could feel the Dark Side coming to him as he called upon it, and the smile on her face went from wicked to satisfied. He was seeing the truth in his pain, and she could appreciate that. When he looked up at her, the hate was apparent in his eyes, but again it seemed misguided. Still, that he rose above what she was inflicting upon him was a step in the right direction which deserved proper praise, "Good, feed the Dark Side your hatred. This pain is your home, revel in it and you will become more powerful than you could ever imagine. There may be hope for you yet weakling, but I will not be holding my breath for some kind of major breakthrough." she offered, knowing that it was a backhanded compliment. "You are too emotionally compromised for further medical education. Leave now, and come back when you feel like you are ready to learn more. We Sith are meant to harness our emotions for power. Hatred, anger, jealousy, all of them feed the Dark Side and in turn allows us to bend the Force to our will. When you have no control over your emotional responses you weaken yourself. You have to search inside for the that, it is not something that I can teach you. If you want to make any progress you must make your emotions work for you, not the other way around. The Remnant has use for those that can turn their fury into strength, but no use for those who are slaves to their own minds. You are a slave, and you place that chain upon yourself every time you lash out without thought. Ruminate on that before you return. I expect you to tell me what you discovered in yourself in your meditation, what it is that is keeping you from being as effective as you could be. Once you discover that in yourself then the learning can truly begin. Am I understood?" Meracus commanded, releasing her hold on the small human. The Dark Side was a tool to her, just as a scalpel was a tool. She could use it to dominate, destroy, or deceive, and all of them because she could control her emotional response to external stimuli. If the human wanted to learn further then he would learn to numb himself to more than just the physical pain she inflicted upon him.
  10. Transplant

    The pointed fear that the young man felt was truly something in which Meracus could revel. He was someone here to learn, and he breached that trust by lashing out at one of her patients. It was as if she had invited someone into her home only to have them eat her food then piss on the floor. The level of disrespect for not only herself and the patient, but to the facility in general, was frankly one of the more insulting things she had experienced recently. She could have him thrown down to Floor Cresh and wash her hands of the moment as an unpleasant diversion from an otherwise standard day, but that would deny her the opportunity to both teach as well as enjoy his pain and suffering. The power she held over him prior was but a small enjoyable moment, and if she kept him around she could keep enjoying those moments of power. Meracus ultimately heards his explanation and did not care. There was to be punishment for his transgression either way, though the severity depended entirely on his ability to know if what he had done was wrong. Clearly he did, but he himself admitted to loss of control. It was a weakness that was easy to exploit, and in revealing himself this way it confirmed that he was fragile and unstable. These two traits were lethal among the Sith. Those that could not control their anger and turn it into power were often culled on principle. Now that the Sith no longer have any sort of prominent position in the galaxy each head culled was lost power that the Sith'ari could command in some way or another. Her loyalty lay with the Sith'ari before it lay with self-interested desire to punish and destroy the boy for what he had done to the patient. The Pureblood looked at the young man with a stern gaze, "Your inability to control yourself makes you useless to the Sith." She said with a very strong tone of disdain. The coddling voice had all but disappeared. In the silence between both hands came up from the desk and the Dark Side flowed through her like a river. Again, she focused and channeled power into squeezing down on his hands, "We are nothing as Sith, without the ability to control ourselves. Do you assume all Sith are mindless beasts enslaved by their emotions?" She continued on, still obviously displeased with how she spoke to him, "Those that are enslaved by their emotions are no better than the mindless tribals on Dathomir. We are an Order of the Sith, a remnant of a defeated Empire, but the key word is Order. The hatred you feel for what that man said to you should not be directed at anything but your own weakness, the weakness he easily picked out of you. You allowed his words to control your response to the situation, and in doing so you allowed what could be considered an adversary to guide where you would go." Meracus paused for a moment to allow the Dark Side to fully envelop his hands. He must learn through pain, and she was going to enjoy it the more mistakes he made. Pain made an excellent teacher, but only to those that learned their lessons. "Do you know what happens to Sith in battle when they lose control? They die. What about the Sith who allow their opponents the ability to easily manipulate their response to stimuli? They die. If you want to die so badly then tell me right now that you want to die and I will see to it you are killed. In death your body would at least be useful for teaching another student with proper control how to perform an autopsy. Is that what you would like? Would you like me to kill you so you can at least be useful to someone around you? Maybe I should just kill you and spare myself the insult of trying to teach someone that will only die later on because they never learned how to handle their emotional responses properly." She pressed firmly on the button. He was easy to manipulate with verbal abuse so why should she not hurl these kinds of things at him? If he lacked control and had the audacity to lash out at her then his punishment would only be made worse for his lack of emotional control. In some way she hoped he would lash out, because then she could ramp things up and inflict true pain enough on him that the lesson might stick.
  11. Transplant

    Meracus did not often take a short or clipped tone with people, and as such the boy was right to feel fearful. He had no reason to suspect she was going to do anything but punish him for his break in concentration. They may have been Sith, but the notion that they were doing medical work meant they were to do no harm as opposed to offer more harm. Her threat to simply cauterize the wounded area with a lightsaber was just that, a threat, but one grounded in medical science. If he could not keep his stitches from breaking because he could not wait to continue his physical training then he would be better off having the laceration burned shut at the end of the day. The Pureblood seated herself behind her desk and turned toward the young man. "Sit." She said very sharply. Meracus was no longer smiling, and the saccharine in her voice had been drained for the time being. Her extension of a cordial welcome had repaid her with a young man that lacked the emotional stability to deal with stubborn patients. She sat there staring at him whether her stood or sat in the chair opposite her desk. How was she going to deal with his instability? If he lashed out at one patient under duress then he would do it again. That meant she would have to delay or limit his exposure to hands on education until a time came that he could handle his emotional state better. The thought crossed her mind that he may never be able to reach that state mentally though, which would severely dampen his effectiveness as a physician. After a few tense moments of silence, Meracus stared directly at the young man without a grin to be seen. Her expression was much more dour, "Tell me now, what you did wrong. Then tell me why it was wrong. You will not leave my office until you give me a satisfactory answer, and the state in which you leave this office will deteriorate with every pitiful excuse you may or may not have the audacity to give me. Understood?" She said, not yet calling out the Dark Side to lash out and teach with pain. There was a time and place for those punishments, and when dealing with someone prone to emotional outbursts in favor of a measured response it was easy to be overly willing to punish more harshly. Until he tried to excuse himself for what he did, or tried to leave the room, she would have no reason to harm him any more than she did prior to the procedure. Still, her expression, her voice, it said everything the young man needed to know about the situation in which he was now firmly planted.
  12. Transplant

    The doorway of the operating theater was enough for Meracus to observe from given the conditions of the place. It was cleaned, the nurses had prepared for a simple suturing, and the patient was sitting there clearly grimmacing in some amount of pain. When the boy went to the handwashing station she appreciated his simple understanding that a sterile work environment required something so simple as cleaned hands. The marks on his forearms caused some curiosity but it was ultimately placed in the back of her mind for a later date when she was not watching her new student face down a man easily over twice his size with the intent to cause him more pain. The man did not trust anesthetics, convinced that he would simply be killed and discarded while placed under, and had thus far been fortunate enough to not require a very real and very deep surgical intervention. Meracus had to stifle a chuckle when the man suggested that he was a slave boy, and that he was unfit to treat the wound. She knew what she was doing, and was there in the event that he failed. The Pureblood shared a look between herself and the large figure, as if they had shared a bed once or twice, and he calmed only momentarily. The telekinetic slam that placed him flat on his back was unwelcome and unnecessary, which would be a note against the boy. He lacked emotional control, but she did enjoy watching the very large Sith go from smug overconfidence to abject fear. The stifled chuckle turned into a short and indulgent laugh. How the mighty could be cowed when the prospect of greater pain and the loss of control set in. Fear was a powerful teacher, but a more powerful teacher still was pain, and he now felt them both and they had been caused by someone that had left no impression on Meracus prior save for the desire to learn. Once the simple procedure had completed, the Pureblood stepped into the room to inspect the site. He had managed to sterilize the area and tie the wound, but it was not a perfect stitch. It would hold, but she was far more precise and expected that with time he would improve as well. Meracus ran a hand over the large Sith's chest in a familiar way, "It would seem this little half-baked slave was more than enough to pin you. Maybe I should reconsider the nature of our relationship if that is the case. Your wound is closed though. If you burst the stitches again I will burn the wound shut with my lightsaber, am I understood? You are not immortal, nor are you beyond reproach. Your master would be very disappointed if you died because of your own stubborn stupidity, and not because they got to enjoy destroying you for your failure. Leave my office and make way for the patients that are smart enough to obey their physician's advice." She said, leaving the room with the large man looking both bewildered and hurt. Meracus turned to the boy, "Office, now." Her voice was sharp and short, and the grin she had when dealing with the patient had disappeared. There would have to be a discussion about the use of force on patients. Funny as it was, they came to the medical facility to be treated, not attacked. As much as she wanted to destroy the more ignorant among the wounded for simply being so stupid as to injure themselves in the myriad ways they come to her, it was not her place to do that. Equally so, it was not the place of the guest in the facility to snap at a patient. Discipline, would have to be the first lesson.
  13. Transplant

    There was what she wanted to see, and what she saw. Defiance was something to be admired at times, but for those who wanted to learn it was just obstinance rather than confidance. Meracus had tightened her grip and watched the young man. He was resisting her, at least in some part. What she felt though, was his hatred, his anger, and it was beautiful. Then, he dropped and kissed her ring. All at once the pain in his hands dissipated and she put the ring hand under his chin to have him look up at her, "Let this be a painful lesson for you. There is nobody in this Order that can be more generous and more cruel. You showed me that you know your place, but your hatred and anger are misguided. I can feel them even now, but they should be directed inward. Your weakness is what allows me to hold power over you, to force you to your knees and to kiss my ring. If you learn your lessons well, never again will another Sith be able to so freely dominate you, but only if you obey my commands without question." She said, her voice still quite sweet. The Pureblood released him from her grip and walked to one of her anatomy charts to look over the figures as she pondered what to do with the young man first. Now that he had pledged himself to her service, she was responsible for preparing him to serve the Sith'ari whenever he called upon the Remnant. As he was, he did not impress in any way other than his drive to learn. A drive to learn though, was the most important thing for him to possess though. "There is another patient that I am to be treating today. He is a standard patient, a laceration the stitches for which he managed to burst with his overzealous dedication to combat training. It was an emergency appointment, and as a result he will be in and in pain during the procedure. Rather than take the lead on it myself, I will have you handle the stitching of the wound. Consider this a benchmark examination for your aptitude toward medical work and whether or not I would be able to trust myself delegating minor treatments to you." She spoke softly, but turned and looked at her prospective student. Meracus was still grinning, reveling in the power she had over the man. It was a rush to be able to bend someone to her will, and make them compromise their apparent pride in order to achieve power. There was nothing worth obtaining that was easy to have, and she knew all too well that the path to even the modest power she had was paved with suffering and struggle. The Pureblood moved across the room to her desk and pressed a button to call one of the nurses. It was the very same nurse that had prepared the surgical suite before, "This young man..." she said, waving her hand because it occurred to her that she did not recall if he had told her his name or not, "...whomever it is he might be, will be attending to our emergency patient today. Find him an apron, and give him some gloves. I will be taking the role of an observer and step in if he proves to be unable to handle our very large guest." Meracus was almost pleased at the end of the statement. The man coming in today was a very large warrior, one that quite easily stood as her peer in height and doubled her size. He was a behemoth, and the laceration was across his left pectoral. If he did not like the way something was going he could very easily break the young man in her office in half with very little effort. Her head nurse looked at the young man and smiled just the same, "Of course, if you would please come with me we will get you prepped and ready." her voice almost exactly as sweet and smile almost exactly as unsettling as Meracus. It seemed, at least with this woman, the Pureblood had a peer in being almost sickeningly polite and kind on the surface. Meracus motioned them away, "Quickly now, I will be along shortly." She spoke softly taking a seat behind her desk once more to finish off some of the paperwork on the report about the liver transplant she had completed.
  14. Transplant

    Meracus' own office looked the part of someone inclined to displays of opulence. Her own desk, while integrated with computer technology, was still primarily composed of expensive imported woods from the Wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk. Her personal chair, wheeled and set to swivel, was crafted of the same material, but the cushions were made from a delicate velvet-like fabric and stuffed to the point of almost indulgent comfort. There were anatomical posters, numberous datapads, and with the nurse delivering them back completely sanitized, her surgical tools placed neatly in a storage case of the very same wood. Of course they were frivolities, overindulgent and expensive, but everything was hers and she would enjoy them regardless of what other Sith or doctors had to say about the ostentatious nature of her office. Visitor firmly entrenched thus far, she was quite pleased to hear that he wanted to learn more. Her mouth twisted back into the same grin that seemed to unsettle him, and she leaned back in her seat to both relax and speak to him on a more open field, "Then I feel it is time to introduce myself to you. I am Meracus." She said, placing her hand on her chest in an equally indulgent way of introducing one's self. "As long as you do not get in the way, and actively engage in learning then you are welcome whenever I am on call. I expect though, that my duties to teh Sith Remnant will pull me away from the medical offices more often than not, though your education does not have to stop there. I can teach you, you see. I can teach you the ways of the Force, of the Dark Side and true power." Meracus offered in such a way to suggest that it was a deal akin to those made in mythological accounts of humans sealing pacts with Hellish figures. She knew the parallel was not lost, or should not be lost on this young man, but she did not know how well-read he was, nor was she going to spell it out ofr him. With every bargain struck, there was an expectation that the service would be repaid in time, and that was her full intent. She could teach him the ways of the Dark Side, but he would in turn owe the Sith Remnant his life in service to the Sith'ari or he would culled in whatever manner Darth Atrox felt was fit for the tiny man. "Even I only know a fraction of the secrets of the Dark Side, but it is far more than a Jedi can offer. True power has but one path, through the Dark Side. I expect you to understand that, being that you were sent here from Dathomir. Tell me, what is it that made them send you to Ziost? Were the overseers there convinced someone here would kill you? Do you feel weak, even now? I wonder..." She said, reaching out to the young man with but a tendril of power in the Dark Side to squeeze around his hands and inflict at least a moderate level of pain, "I wonder if you were sent here because you showed insubordination to your betters. Is that it?" Meracus mused with the very same grin. "How about this, little man. I will educate you more fully, but you must bend your knee and pledge your service to me." She finished, standing up and walking around her desk, one hand held aloft to continue channeling the Dark Side, and the other held out with an opulent sapphire ring on the proper finger. It was a direct message, but simple.
  15. Transplant

    Meracus pursed her lips when the young man had answered her prior question. He knew something and she could be satisfied with that. Still, she turned her attention from the patient being prepped for kolto submersion to her young guest, "Correct, those are common factors in liver failure, but none of them account for the acute liver failure in our patient today. You saw that he was jaundiced, which suggests that his liver function had been compromised prior. Also of note, is his weight. He is considered medically obese, and as a result suffered from fatty liver as well. However, the cause for our retired military friend here is prescription medications. His prior physician put him on a set of anticonvulsants and NSAID, non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs to handle the complications caused by his diabetes and epilepsy. He is an unhealthy fellow, but someone wanted him alive enough to pay quite handsomely for a liver replacement. I project that he will recover from the surgery but this liver will also fail in time, though it may be hid kidneys that go first this time. Regardless, he made it through the procedure, as did you." The Pureblood said, quite official still. She had relaxed, but she was still a medical professional in a medical environment with a prospective student. He had remained quiet and observant, so she had to assume he was at least intersted in the medical field. "Now, you will have the recording of the procedure with my voiceover delivered to your room wherever that may be. It is yours, feel free to study it if you find yourself curious about the procedure again." She continued on, running a hand over his cheek as she walked past him, "Come with me to my office, and we can discuss any questions you may have, regarding what you just watched as well as anything you may want to know about performing medical procedures in the Sith Remnant. I am free for the next hour before the next examination, which you are free to observe as well. You held yourself in the surgical suite well, and did not get in the way, so consider yourself at least welcome on a probationary basis." Her voice carried behind her. A nurse followed behind her and offered her a chart for the surgical patient. He was responding well, but the treatment would be monitored for several days to ensure the body does not reject the transplanted organ. If it failed then she may well have to place an artificial system within the host, but that would cost her mysterious patron extra for certain. Regardless, her time was free for now as the staff prepared her equipment and sterilized the room following the surgery, so whatever her guest had in mind in terms of discussion was as welcome as a stranger could be in her office.
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