Memoir [Closed/Invite]

The all too never-ending corridors, silver and reflective- her cameras like mechanical foliage draping the tops of the walls every twenty meters, beckoning at every corner. A Worldcraft by classification; the description eluding to great potential, perhaps peace- a place among places, and yet hidden and ever moving. It was not bound by the pull of moons, suns, or stars. These are what it continuously traveled, cloaked and armed to the teeth. Though it was true enough that where it resided relied on the Galaxy and by the Force. Then again everyone, everything was. This monstrous-made machine was one-of-a-kind. Anesia had seen nothing of the kind.

It was new and intriguing.

Zero-One was...

"We'll have to go planet-side soon," she pointed out, even so much as throwing a finger in an albeit random direction. There had been someone licking at her heels since she left the presence of the Warlord. Perhaps they were trained to go unseen and unheard. Just perhaps. Though Anesia had doubted their trainers had The Force in mind when they did.

The pitter-patter of his heart skipped a beat and raced for less than a handful of seconds.  Instead of walking with uncertainty, Lady Jy'Vun stopped abruptly and turned on the heels of her boots, "Where might there be a physical training area?" The look she got in return was of surprise, though he recovered quickly. Good for him.

The man's stance straightened and he began to utter directions. Thin, dark brows arose and she shook her head, "You were obviously sent to keep an eye on me," pausing, she stepped aside, giving him room to move past her, "so, that is exactly what you're going to do. Now, take me to the physical training area of this beast."

The guide's comm went off.

As much as Telva Donner prized himself on the etiquette of his Coruscanti upbringing, he found that no other word could describe his...charge, other than creepy. It wasn't that she looked odd, or even said anything out of the social norm. It was just something about her presence that set his skin to crawl and the small primordial part of his brain to flee.

He smiled, what had always been considered a charming smile but he got the distinct impression that the girl he had been tasked with escorting didn't even see him but instead straight through him.

"I'm sure Warlord Gallen will accommodate you." He had until now, Telva thought bitterly a flurry of jealousy rising in his chest. The aide furrowed his immaculately kept blonde eyebrows as he pondered her request. "Hmm...The closest would be on the next level down, please follow me." He responded sweeping a hand toward the turbolift at the end of the corridor.

The trek to the lift was done in silence, she ghosted his steps and he stiffened. His movements so robotic now, that she could quite possibly mimic them precisely at any given time. Anesia sighed, tossing a few deep copper strands behind her ear. The durasteel doors to the lift hissed shut and they were alone... save for the four- COUNT THEM, FOUR- cameras in each corner of the shiny metal box transporting them.

"Donner is it?" she broke the silence and looked up to a man whom obviously held Coruscanti bloodlines.      He still wore its scent upon his collar, the sureness in his smile. Telva was the picture of Coruscant that she had seen many times over. The beautiful people of that were a credit a dozen.

Genetic make-up... she would fix the Luke and the Leia's of the Galaxy. One day people would have the choice to be perfectly different, perfectly created.

"My name is Anesia," a twitch of her lips, giving the faintest hint of a smile, "but I suppose you know that already." Striking up conversation was never a strong point of hers, "I don't bite, you know." Lithe shoulders could be seen lifting and falling underneath the thin, itchy uniform blouse that had been borrowed to her and she sighed under that strange armor that was the Force.

The alluring jade eyes of the Sith's pulled him in. Telva found himself inching closer, even though his mind was back pedaling and the urge to find air was alarming. His body was ignoring every red flag that could possibly be thrown at it. The Coruscanti had to touch her for fear of going mad.

"Ding!"

The lift had stopped and the doors slip open eagerly, "Thank you. I believe I can find it from here." Anesia smiled then, ducking under his arms that had planted themselves on the wall to the back of her on the lift. Telva had nearly pinned her.

Lovely pheromones. Lovely emotions.

While they were useful, they were clearly her biggest enemy. Anesia needed an outlet, needed a fix. Just for a little while. Just for a moment....

Escape. That was Doners only thought as he bid a hasty farewell to his ward. He knew what was coming down the corridor behind him, he could hear the armored footfalls with the imperial issue boots that was his twelve man guard. He scurried, there was no other word for the panicked steps that took him to the side of the corridor, as the giant black armored Zero-One strode by, Mandalorian helm and all.

The guards walked him into the training room and then took up a position three against each of the four walls. The room was furnished with various training apparatus for the soldiers stationed on the Worldcraft, weights and workbenches along with matted areas for hand to hand combat training.

Zero-One was directed toward Anesia and he marched over and stood perfectly to attention. He dwarfed her, standing more than six-foot eight he was a giant in all sense of the word but anyone attuned to the Force would have seen him as a sun, bright and devastating, ready to scorch the world if he was so ordered.

The Warlord watched intently from the control room via the cameras in the room, he could feel his chest begin to tighten as they approached and worried himself with the thought that the guards he had sent would not be enough if Zero-One malfunctioned. All he could do was wait and play the game.

It was quite the show to watch what could be considered half of a small  platoon enter the physical training room. Unison. Even though it was all impressive; well trained military types always were. It was fascinating to see that many bodies work as one. The though drifted, but before it could reach the stars, Anesia snatched it to mull over later.

For a woman, she had height; her appearance very much so Amazonian in stature. Usually size never intimidated her, now she was not so sure. Jungle green eyes had peered up to the fully armored Zero-One. It took quite a few seconds for her to process the proximity and the reality. A healthy shiver of fear inched its way up her spine and she moved to take a step back. Just one, and it was only with her left foot so that she could lean back for the full effect. "Impressive," casually, she conformed the other leg back to stand straight and allow some distance. "Most impressive."

Anesia allowed herself briefly to look away from the scene and to one of the cameras, " Mi'Lord Gallen, I hardly believe full armor and guards are in order. This is the first of many encounters. I need to know exactly what I am dealing with. I..." she glanced back to the man, still so very curious. "For this to work, I need him to be able to access different parts of himself. Parts that have to be unlocked. The armor acts as more than just a barrier to his physical state."

She believed it limited him. Perhaps that was for their safety, she thought.

Gallen gave a tut, was there no end to this girls demands? Still, it occurred to him that he had never actually seen Zero-One out of his combat armour. All the data regarding it, and there was just as much on it as its wearer, had been reviewed when he had 'liberated' the Worldcraft from its previous owner. It was Mandalorian in design however it was more heavily reinforced, not that it mattered when you were created to be faster and stronger than any of your species.

He mulled the request for a moment and then thumbed the direct com to Zero-Ones helmet. "You may remove your armour." Was all he said and reclined back in his chair to watch what horrors lay beneath the metallic flesh.

It wasn't a dramatic affair, the hulk removing it armour, one gauntleted hand simply reached up to the chest plate and pressed a discreet button under the shoulder pauldron. The back and sides of the armour receded into the back and front chest plates respectively and he dropped them to the floor with a weighty thunk. The lower cuisse that protected the front and somewhat back of his legs was discarded much the same way, a hidden release button and they retracted neatly into two parts. The arm plating and gauntlets came next, being of one piece it seemed, he slipped them off like a long shoulder length glove and they joined the others on the floor at his feet. Boots now, then finally the helm.

Zero-One stood there, muscle stretching thin the black body glove that protected his modesty-if he even understood such a thing. His hair was past his chin, hanging in long locks that had obviously not been tended for many years and as raven as space itself. His skin had a hint of a tan about it, dulled by its long incarceration inside the armour but certainly still there which told of a blending of human skin colours during his creation. It was the eyes however, eyes that could only have been conceived in a laboratory. They shone green, like the rays of a sun through the most flawless emerald and they looked directly at Anesia.

Though the creature inside was screaming to get out, demanding contact, pulling strings for reaction. The normal reaction; to give in to the thoughts and nature; to split herself wide open, where emotions gushed in waves. No matter the instinct and baseline desire, Anesia bid it back. This was no small or easy feat, she was still learning. It was the thought of knowledge that flipped the switch and kept her in check.

With her being who she was,  she could not help to focus on every movement for the first few seconds, which meant her vivid emerald eyes took in every inch of Zero-One's giant frame.  Starting with his eyes and ending there as well. Throughout his entire...reveal, Anesia had remained still.

There was no reason she could give as to why she chose to step forward when their gazes met. Close enough so that she had to lift her chin to keep it. Unfettered footsteps took her around him slowly as she inspected him. Thoroughly for good measure. There was not much skin revealed, but she managed to get what she needed from sight.

Facing the giant again, her eyes fluttered shut and her hands found his, hovering just over them. Curiously, she reached, having to go on her tip-toes to skim his jaw with one finger. Perhaps she was just fond of the shape, or the feel of his skin, either way, she retracted. Green green eyes were still closed. Mandolorian, whispered the woman into the Weapon's mind.

The inky, all knowing power of The Force slid along her skin, perhaps from within. Her breath caught and she smiled crookedly.

She took one sweeping gaze around the room and wondered if it was worth it.

What she may have expected in terms of a response never came. Zero-One merely stood there, as he had been instructed, showing no outward signs that he registered anything around him.

The guards along the wall were less than cool, their weapons held expectantly. The fear and anxiousness they felt radiated through the Force, but again Zero-One took no notice. It wasn't his concern.

In the control room alarms began to blare when they exited hyperspace and the sensor officer on deck informed the Warlord that a ship was within range.

"Well, has it seen us? More importantly does it know what its seen?" Gallen barked, a few moments of adjusting sensors and checking data returned a negative.

"Its gone. It was here a minute ago, a freighter maybe judging by the size...." The officer trailed off into silence under the steely gaze of his commander.

"Run a diagnostic, it could have been a sensor ghost." Gallen ordered, although he found his guts twist into knots as he reclined back into his chair. What Anesia had said about her Master lingered in the back of his mind. It was true he had no idea the scope of the Force but he knew dangerous and any man who could command a web of contacts so large was just that.

All along, it was a feeling. It was cold down to the marrow, but her skin was slick with a thin glaze of sweat.  His scent, metal, and man, and power, and something else curled up her nose. She inhaled, damn near pulling it in. While  there were no expectations, there was a needing for one. Anesia would have to work for which she wanted. Pheromones flooded the room.  She really did not know what would happen.  It was all an experiment, a button to push if you will.

The way it would effect the group of scared fangirls was of no concern to her. "You have to let him be," she stammered, unable to let her eyes make the journey to the camera. If there were damage done to her, she would accept it in the name of knowledge. Of another step forward. Anesia sighed audibly.

Clearly, she had little to no patience. He would be here soon enough. Time... they needed more of it.

The troopers began to relax, they didn't know why they felt the need but their muscles untensed and the weapons they had awaited eagerly to use slipped down into a more casual position. They seemed to be in a stupor, anyone with eyes that saw the unseen would feel their attention begin to dull on the pair they were sent to watch over.

As for Zero-One he merely stood there, his body as relaxed as it had been since he had shed the besker'gam shell that he had worn since his activation and looked down upon the girl before him.

Inside the Worldcrafts control room things were not as sedate, sensor scans showed an energy signature appearing at random but not so random that Gallens officers could not conclude that they were being trailed.

"Make the next jump ahead of schedule and alert all pilots to their birds." The commander barked. He knew there would be payback for Naboo, someone so powerful and influential would not stand idly by while his charge was whisked away.

He thought of his children again, as the orders were carried out, and a sinking feeling in his gut warned him that they would never meet again.

The room was of a much more calm, the weight of the air was a light as it was ever going to be. As suspected, the pheromones only affected the guards. Zero-One was in fact a puppet of sorts, waiting for commands or the tug of invisible strings. For what needed to be done, this would hinder, if not completely null the chances of it working.

Talking to him would be a waste of time, and it was not because he did not understand what she was saying- it was moreso that he did not register it superior. She was not his "master". Anesia had to go with something he would register and react to.

"Feel SOMETHING!" The rage of the woman made laps around the room and she full on attacked him, physically, mentally. She bombarded his mind, pushing where emotions would normally be. Slender, tan milky fingers balled into a fist and she launched it directly at his larynx.

Instinctively her other arm came up to protect her face, even so, she reared back to land another assault on this...being. Wide, russet eyes glanced at the camera and urgency throttled her. He was coming. There needed to be connection.

Whatever was occurring in the inky black was waylaid by what had appeared upon the monitors before Gallen. No matter what martial training had drilled into his mind a fear more primal gripped him as he saw the girl launch herself at his own personal monster. His breath caught in his throat, his blood chilled, he knew what would come next and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't tear his eyes away from the coming storm.

It wasn't personal, not in the sense that a man might leap back in fear from a blade sent to end him but more calculated. He was programmed to survive, to live, to fufil his duty above all else...but he had no orders. His mandate as it stood, with this furious being seeking to end him, was to survive. A hand twice the size of the fist that sought his throat caught it and pushed it aside as he stepped backwards to better defend himself. What no one-short of the Emperor himself- could have counted upon was a psychic attack. One that slithered under the masterful footwork and myriad of martial defenses Zero-One had been trained to defend against.

It touched him, in a way nothing until this point had ever done. His mind had always been a tranquil pool, neither ripple nor splash tarnished its waters. He was commanded and so he acted but with her the cool reflection of certainty began to warp.

Again he blocked her strikes with no retort but her ploy was not physical, her intent was not to maim or injure but to awaken. Like a child faced with something new and truly frightening Zero-One lashed out. The mental roar burst from his infantile mind like a sonic-boom and he found his clarity shattered.

It was a ah-ha moment for Anesia, that click to unlocking something was akin to a song to her.  She was so use to the act of telepathy, it was second nature to her. The mere thought amused her, it was a reaction that she had not expected. Every known emotion was set to pass... making the assault on his mind much more sensual, carnally intimate. Each one slid like soft fur, introducing him to many foreign things at once.

Hate, greed, love... passion. The last slithered, lingered and she spoke in dulcet tones into his mind. "They are tools, Mandolorian."

All went still, every breath caught. She held the camera lens in her gaze for fleeting seconds and she smiled coyly to Gallen who was surely watching.

That was when the WorldCraft rocked, Anesia then had the same assault of the mind done to her. Her master had come and he struck with all the hate and rage this side of the Galaxy had. Fear might as well have licked her cheek.