Partridge in a Pear Tree. (Sa'ato/Kress. Ask)

[Kressara Thryn]

Watching with great curiosity, Kress witnessed the tall dendroid being altering his form to match that of an entirely different species! Talk about some crazy disguise skills! Showering him with a well meant compliment, she gushed, “Professor, you astonish me! For someone who claims to have very little criminal skills, you certainly know a very nifty trick for the trade! That is enviable.”

With the not quite Neti on board, Crow offered a nod and chirped, “Sir, yes sir!” before turning her attention to the network of hackers at her disposal. It took a while, but after all information, documents, and area maps were fully loaded, Kressara rose from her stony seat. “Alright, sending you a copy of your documents in a second, but first...smile for the camera!” Scanning his new face, the glitbiter sent a copy to her people who forged his appearance onto a personalized work order. In moments, docs were sent to the professor’s device as proof of his ’employment’.

“Oh…” Sucking in air through a clenched grin, Kress added, “This plan does include one tinsy weensy little aspect of violence. We do need to intercept the transport and incapacitate its passengers. Thankfully you’re traveling with a dealer, soooo.” Reaching into a zipped pocket in the back of her gear, Kressara produced a small, clear pouch of a mysterious liquid and a couple swatches of cloth. “Tried and true. We knock them out with this. Should keep them out for a few hours. We just have to find a safe spot to leave them out of sight from the road so the exiting shift doesn’t see them. They’ll wake up long after we’re gone and won’t remember a thing.”

No time like the present. Light footfalls over the water saturated moss and mud carried her through the jungle, around the compound, and along the highway until they were out of earshot. Night fell and painted vibrant green foliage in darker, silvery shades. New birds and insects sang sonnets for a rising moon and the unveiling of twinkling stars. Little to no light pollution diluted the splendor of the night sky this far into forest blanketed wilderness. It made for the perfect ambush scenario.

“And Sa’ato.” After a long silence, just waiting in the undergrowth, Kress thought to mention, “Make sure you release the victim within five seconds of exposure to this anesthetic, okay? It’s a strong drug. Too much will kill. Release them even if they are still conscious after the five seconds. They’ll drop with an added wack to the head.”

Engine humming hit her ears and grew louder until lights appeared on the road. The transport was nearly upon them. Wasting no more time, Kressara doused the rags and handed one to her accomplice. Careful not to breathe the initial fumes, she pulled herself up into a large tree and climbed out onto one of the limbs growing over the highway. Counting down to herself, the transport carrying five employees traversed below her. Leaves rattled with the loss of Kressara’s weight from the limb and before confused workers could process what’d happened, boot soles clapped against the back of the transport. Breaks were slammed, the driver turning wide eyed to see Kressara holding a cloth over the face of one of a flailing passenger who went limp shortly after.

Between both invading sith, all aboard were successfully knocked out and dragged aside. Uniforms were stolen, issued weapons taken, and their gear tucked away to be picked up later. Kress pinned her long hair up into the rim of a tan cap and borrowed a pair of glasses, dotting freckles and a mole onto her face with a liner pencil she kept handy for such occasions. Lastly, the contacts. She always kept a pair on her person that could color shift through command inputs on an app. Dark brown would work.

“Might not be as thorough as your disguise, but it'll do.”

Together they piloted the transport up to guarded facility gates where Sa’ato’s snarky little companion began weaving their fictional predicament with alarming success. “Yeah, you should see the infirmary. It’s full of people dumb enough to wipe with purple stingwart.” “Oh, no, him? He’s here to work the fields. I’m here to relieve the front gate.” “See? Documents are in order, yes?” “Oh, stop it you~ I know, I look too cute to be a guard!” All lies produced on a whim, spoken with a saccharine smile, delivered in a charismatic tone. They ate it up. By the time the gate captain boarded their transport and the day shift too, Kress had already gotten his contact information scrawled out in ink on the back of her hand. With a wink, their second major obstacle sped off into the dark.

Kressara typed out a message from her holowatch and sent it to Sa’ato before attending her “post”.

“Now I believe it’s on you. Mind the droids. They might be able to detect our false identification. I’ll be here. Contact me when it’s time to leave. We have one chance for a distraction that won’t get us shot at and we should use that to exit. If found out, run with the sample and get our gear from the meetup spot. I’ll take off in the opposite direction and take as many with me as possible.”

[Professor Mors]

In general, Sa’ato was not keen on the idea of socializing with the other laborers within the compound, much less bumping elbows with the overpaid labcoats assuredly staffing the chemical plants. Thankfully for the Neti however, Nosaurians were neither charming nor overly social. When the human woman working the primary clock-in kiosk attempted to greet the incognito professor and comment on his status as a new hire, the academic had only to flash his six rows of faux-teeth to dissuade further discussion. From there, Sa’ato caught sight of a hand-held hovercart for waste disposal, and made up his mind to act the part.

The Neti began his search in the small botanical field to the left of the main building. While there were plenty of juvenile and near-mature bota samples, they had not been properly cleaned and preserved for transport. Furthermore, one to two security droids floated some feet from the ground, overseeing the flesh-and-blood harvesters as they went about their work– lest any among them suffered delusions of kleptomania. Heaving a disappointed sigh, Sa’ato turned about, and carefully crept back inside the main hub. The interior of the main processing plant was split into three sections: chemical production, pharmaceutical development, and distribution.

There was little loot to be had in the foremost. And, much to his ire, the Neti was forced to actually complete labor when a hapless Calamari managed to drop an entire tray of beakers. Moving onto the distribution depot, Sa’ato was equally stumped. Working samples were far too well-packed and large to filch without notice. Once more, the disguised lecturer had to take several moments to fulfill his disguise. Collecting parcel pulp and other viscera from the automated packing units, Sa’ato shuffled along with his modesty-full cart of refuse, eyeing a handful of docked speeder bikes on the way out. With much trepidation and dismay, the Neti finally steeled his nerves, and marched into the one area he’d hoped to avoid.

The pharmacological heart of the facility was about as populated as the Neti anticipated. Both scientists and aides exuded an air of snootiness in their speech and posture that Sa’ato recognized all too well from his university days.
No less than three senior staff snapped at the diminished professor as he waddled as carefully as possible past vials of testing fluid and suspended casing of bota buds. After some time, the professor finally found an isolated room at the far end of the larger testing area, and parted his lips with relief at what lay before him. A mature bota bloom and several prenatal seed pods coupled to the same nutrient-injector, not much larger than a datapad.

Sa’ato had very nearly slid the entire apparatus into the overalls of his tableau, when a nasal cacophony pierced the air, “What in the name of Yalpitar’s third law are you doing?!”. The Neti spun around on the spot to like eye contact with the blank, onyx pupils of a middle-aged Gran. “Oversight wants to inspect this sample”, the professor gruffly answered, doing his best to bluff on the spot. “Hah!”, the antennaed chemtech rebuffed, “That’ll be the day! No admin has ever needed a test product before! And I doubt they need one now– much less from you”. The Gran narrowed all three of his eyes, “Speaking of which, I know both of our miserable waste collection officers, and you’re neither…”

“I was just brought on today!”, Sa’ato attempted to retort without a snarl, “The regulars are out with Barabese flu”. “This late in the cycle! Who do you take me for?”, the Gran snorted, almost as if he were trying to stifle laughter, “You’re a liar or an idiot, and either way I’ll have security write you up before you can even spell Barabe–”. The haughty researcher would not get another word out in Sa’ato’s presence. Before the trio of eyes could blink, they widened in abject horror while the Neti reverted his hand to its natural, sinuous state. Extending his digits beyond the norm with the aid of the Force, the professor violently stuffed his fingers down the man’s throat, gaze unfettered as the mouthy interloper gasped and sputtered for release.

It was only when the man’s head fell limply to one side that the Neti reconstituted his disguise, and unceremoniously dumped the loud-mouth’s comatose form into the cart with the rest of the rubbish. Clearly, Sa’ato’s exit would likely prove more ornery than his entrance. Looking around for some means to cause an opportunity for escape, the professor noted several myriad containers of chemical isotopes. Eyes alighting on three particular mixtures, the retired academic provided a rare, toothy grin, and set about producing a distraction for his eventual departure. At some time, the academic reappeared within Kressara’s field of vision toting his hovercart, and notably whistling.

Dagon’s third symphony was an old favorite of Sa’ato’s late wife, not that his blonde associate, or anyone else would have known. While the professor had not specified how he would signal that it was time for the two to leave, he assumed the sudden music-making was obvious enough to get his point across. Still, to hit the matter on the head, the Neti came to a stop fifteen meters from his colleague, locked eyes, and silently mouthed “Go”. Then, in an instant, Sa’ato depressed the trigger on a crude, makeshift explosive, and leapt forward as his caravan of garbage erupted into the air.

Debris and plant viscera pelted the nearby staff, and one security guard was unlucky enough to find himself beneath the heavy frame of half-living Gran. Rolling clumsily over the dirt path thanks to the blast radius, Sa’ato wasted no time in righting himself, before bolting toward the duo’s escape vehicle with all possible speed…

[Kressara Thryn]

While Sa’ato had the most undesirable time apart from his partner in crime, Kressara was hardly enjoying herself while listening to the obnoxious attempts at communication from a patrolman on break. She stared into the forest beyond the compound with a rifle in hand, annoyed over every word that left the man’s foul scented mouth.

“You just don’t look like the security gig type.” He pondered, trying to make a pass at her smaller stature.

Kress retorted with controlled agitation, “Mhmmm…”

“Name three companies you’ve worked with.” He challenged her, less out of actual suspicion and more out of a pathetic attempt to seem impressive himself.

“Solarus inc, Yhiris, CSC-Co.” Deadpan, she answered.

“Out of all of those, Yhiris is sort of decent, but none of those are really REAL security companies. How long have you been a gatekeeper?”

Hazels cut over to the walking talking scab and a wry smile curled her red lips. “Apparently not as long as you have.”

Whistling provided an excellent distraction from the loser taking up her airspace with his funky breath, who got back to work before anyone could notice him standing around and testing his best conversational skills. Picking up on the signal, Kress started humming along with Sa’ato to confirm her understanding. However, one couldn’t help but to wonder as she took a walk outside of the compound…if a Neti whistles, is it considered woodwind?

BAM, trash flew in all directions and Kressara’s calm humming turned into a small choke of surprise. Mashing her thumb against the comlink and bolting for the parked hover bikes, she noted, “We REALLY need to work on your exit strategies!” Covering ground as her legs worked overtime to haul her up to speed with the longer stride of the professor, Kressara leapt onto a bike, hooked up a cord from her holowatch to both her chosen vehicle and the one beside it, then fired up the engines with a complete override of the ignition.

“Next time we’re going to try, walking away calmly!” Not that she minded a good chase, but soon the artillery would start flying if they didn’t get out of Dodge before security realized a pair of workers were fleeing.

Revving the engine, Kress peeled out with a cloud of dust billowing up behind her thrusters, obscuring their escape. Guiding the bike along the road to reach their hidden gear as quickly as possible before the swarm of facility security could descend, Kress reached the broken branch over the road and slowed, taking the bike around through the underbrush to scoop up their bags. She’d hold onto both, motioning with her chin in the direction of the ship through the woods. Once both bags were secure, one on her back and the other slung over her lap, Kress dropped the rifle from around her shoulder and pulled a pistol from her own belongings.

“Lead the way! I’ll cover!”

[Professor Mors]

‘Leading the way’ proved to be a taller order than Kressara might have expected. Sa’ato gunned the throttle of his swoop steadily, growling as he was forced to swerve left to avoid a rather large tree. They had made it through the clearing much faster than the professor had anticipated. While the Drongar wilds were not as dense as they could have been, the Neti and his companion soon found themselves bobbing and weaving between sloping trunks and loose webs of vines. Even then, it quickly became apparent that the terrain was the least of the Darksiders’ worries. The unfortunate, familiar hum of several speederbikes charging in unison soon filled the canopy.

Reaching out with the Force rather than risking a turn of the head, Sa’ato sensed four- no, five hostiles closing in. A volley of sporadic pistol fire raked the air behind the Neti and his companion. Thankfully, it seemed the security team’s bikes weren't more heavily armed than the Siths’ own. However, they were faster, and before long a rider was closing in on the duo. As the inbound laserfire grew more and more accurate, the academic quickly decided not to push his luck further. Though he had no intention of blowing his disguise outright, the professor experienced a flash of timely inspiration, and harshly jammed on the breaks.

Zipping back several meters behind his attacker, a middle-aged humanoid, Sa’ato moved to increase speed, and let his upper body hang off to the right. A regular lightsaber was hard to mask, but the Neti’s shoto, under certain circumstances, could pass for a compact plasmatorch. Such being the case, the professor did not attempt to deflect the crimson bolts the guard sent back his way on approach, but merely let the Force guide his movements and evade the assault entirely. Finally, at the moment when the two speederbikes were parallel, the Neti activated his orange blade and deftly cleaved off the main steering vanes at the front of his opponents vehicle.

With a yelp, both the man and what was left of his chassis spun helplessly out of control, before detonating loudly into a muddy pool below. Taking a moment to recover his bearings, Sa’ato sought out his colleague with his thoughts, growling as he executed a sharp turn to regroup with her. “Thryn!”, he hollered, temporarily pulling alongside her, and ducking periodically as more blaster discharge seared their way, “Give me the other bag! I don’t want them all harping on you-“. A lucky bolt slammed home into one of the Neti’s stabilizers, and though his mount shuddered violently, for the time being, he remained upright.

Not willing to entertain a possible argument, the retired teacher quickly scooped up the second bag while the scooping was good. Sa’ato had only just slung it over his shoulder when it became his turn to shudder. The tell-tale echo of danger caused the Neti’s mind and head tendrils to stand on end. Another security goon, this time a Duro, was barreling straight at the rear of Kress’s bike with the intention to ram. Without hesitating, the Neti planted a boot on the side of the Corvid’s getaway ride and kicked off hard. She just cleared the impact zone. Given his usual luck, the professor was not so blessed. He and the Duro had collided, but not at the angle the latter intended.

Neither had been blown to smithereens, but for the moment, the steering vanes and drive wires had become hopelessly tangled up. Thus, as the two bludgeoned each other and fought for control, they veered off and out of sight while Kress was left to deal with the others…

[Kressara Thryn]

So much happened in only a handful of seconds. One of their pursuers crashed into the swampy ground with flames rising high in their dust, while Kressara weaved between branches, momentarily falling in line with the professor to pass him a bag. “You sure? I can handle the extra weight on thi-!!!” His boot kicked her swoop bike into a veering course and separated them, dividing the chase to save her. She watched as Sa’ato vanished behind a growing mass of forest between their paths, peeking over her shoulder to count six chasers.

The closest rider accelerated, nearly clipping the rear of her bike. One more close call like that and he could have caused her to spin out. Picking a narrow path off the main road, Kress jerked right, the swarm following her through the overgrowth. Vines lashed her face and shoulders, trunks whooshing by as she focused sharp eyes on an unforged trail, using wide peripheral vision to her advantage and leaning into the wind. Her lithe form nearly stretched flush against the bike, holding herself up on the balls of her toes and using the strength of her legs to give herself stability. When a blaster bolt fired past her head, Kress tilted left and pulled the vehicle into a drifting spin around a quicksand bog, lifting her pistol halfway around to fire on her pursuers.

A series of bolts scorched metal, mostly failing to harm until the last shot struck a rider through his ribs and knocked him into the wet earth. His swoop continued without him, rushing away into the foliage to crash as four more plus Kressara blazed on. She came full circle around the bog and resumed her course, ducking beneath a fallen log to feel ashen strands whip its bark. Two smaller bodied riders followed her under and the others peeled into the brush, unable to make the squeeze without risking decapitation on the downed tree. When Kress and the others emerged, all three weaving a serpentine pattern together through trunks, she sat up and eased off the throttle. Bikes caught up to either side and a stun spear wielding assailant jabbed their electric weapon at the nimble sith assassin who bent backwards, dropped her gun, catching the lance shaft with both hands. Not affording the enemy a chance to process, she hooked her boot toe around the footrest on one side of her bike while laying flat on its seat and tucked her other leg up, leaning her own swoop into a gradual turn that centered her captured attacker with the thick heft of a tree.

“No! No! No!” Releasing their hold on the spear couldn’t undo the trajectory and momentum fast enough, splattering against ancient cypress in a cloud of splinters and metal.

Kressara’s core muscles ached, straining to pullup in time to tap the brakes, narrowly missing a retaliatory shot from the other rider and darting up on the other side. This would force the enemy to aim across themselves, or use their non-dominant hand to attack, giving the crow a rather unfair vantage point to jam her nabbed stun spear into his engine. The halted momentum snatched the weapon from her hands, spinning Kressara around and forcing her to slide horizontal with the ground into the oncoming scissor attack of the last two swoops while their friend careened to his death. Force and gravity from their bikes sailing over her ground her arm against the sod and forest debris, tearing up the sleeve of her disguise and giving her arm a nasty road rash.

“@^!%$*!!!!” Kress cursed as she slid to a stop and righted herself, and ripped the shredded fabric from her burning arm. “Still determined, huh?” The riders were looping back, readying behind her for a second strike. Revving her engine and planting one foot firmly on the ground, Kress judged their trajectory, biding her time until the last minute. Holding the brakes down on one side of the machine and allowing the backend to blast full throttle, Kress spun on her foot and let the swoop kicked up a wave of mud, bark, twigs, and stones at her attackers. One was completely coated, falling from his vehicle as it zoomed off without him, but the other caught Kress by the arm and kept going, dragging her off the bike and along the ground beside his bike.

{Cryokinesis App Start}


Her hip and legs banged along the forest floor as she was dragged, caught by the wrist and pulled helplessly over speeding earth beside her enemy’s swoop bike. The rider had her, she wouldn’t have long in that position to survive. With no chance of bringing out a weapon to free herself, Kressara desperately focused on the thrumming of her own heart, tapping into the force faster than she ever had before as adrenaline and pain tore through her body. Seconds were like minutes, clarity of mind coming like a miracle as she sensed the life energy of her attacker through the grip of his fingers around her wrist. His body gave off heat from beneath thick gloves, warming her skin. She was desperately searching for some way to use the force as an attack, anything to manipulate her captor into releasing her before she was dragged to her death. Letting her mind go blank, Kress listened to the force coursing through her own body and focused on the one thing of her assailant that she could sense in the fray. Temperature.

Gnashing her teeth and narrowing pupils toward his hand, she hissed and focused on the heat of his vice grip, beckoning with all her willpower for that warmth to drain from his fingers, chilling his joints to weaken his grasp. It had to be possible! She’d die if she couldn’t. Straining her mind, she focused on the heat of her own arm and imagined it retreating along the length of her bones, pulling warmth to leave him with nothing. It was working, she could practically smell the cooling of humid summer air, feeling the beginnings of frost around her wrist, when a downed log knocked her hip, disrupting her focus as electric pain shot through her body.

She lost it, bringing her seconds closer to a brutal death as a patch of jagged cypress knees jutted from the earth in the distance. Not like that. Not being dragged through the mud by hired security. Kress refused to give up her intentions. The force was alive in her, screaming for her to DO SOMETHING. Every nerve in her body was on fire and the heat of the engine blasted over her face. Engine heat, it was intense and within reach, the mechanisms of an unliving machine offering little to no resistance in the force. Grunting, Kressara slapped her free hand against the swoop bike’s side and began again, this time with unrelenting tenacity and focus even as the metal sizzled against her palm and the scent of cooking skin caught the wind. It was that burn she zeroed in on, feeling the force gathering around her scorching hand and pressing it harder to the metal to feel the full extent of the high temperature before exerting her will over it. Her head throbbed with the intense pain and her heart raced as she madly drug the burn from her palm all the way up her arm. Hairs burned off her skin, previous wounds melting shut with the hot rush of force energy trailing so closely over her flesh before bleeding out into the screaming wind.

Her force presence sucked the heat right from the metal’s surface, chilling it under her hand and with a mental push successfully dispersing energy from both machine and appendage into the atmosphere. Harnessing the force with a vicious sneer, Kressara ripped her fingers coating themselves in frost from the bike and clutched the cold pocket force energy, pulling it with all her might to siphon every last degree of warmth from the engine until its inner workings froze over and jammed. Sputtering and lurching, the rider yelped and dropped Kressara in a last ditch effort to maintain control before the nose dipped, embedding into the ground and sending the rider flying from the iced over swoop. Crashing in a blur and pummeled by frozen steel, her captor was dismembered on impact as the sith rolled to a stop several feet away.

Her right arm was burnt from the initial failure in properly willing cryokinesis through the force, but ice crystals trailed up the smoking scorch marks where her focus on temperature theft was strongest. Numb fingers clenched and unclenched as the force created a cold spot in the hot swamp air, a soot smeared grin crossing her lips.

{Cryokinesis App Complete -WC 728/400}

[Professor Mors]

If Sa'ato had to describe his ongoing struggle with the security guard, he might have likened it to two Falleen lizard-seals beating their heads together. Put another way, neither party was getting anywhere, and it was perhaps only through the good grace of the Force that they had not collectively crashed and perished. It was, in short, a situation the Neti was eager to change, but apart from basic jabs and parries, there was little he could do without risking the integrity of the conjoined vehicles. The professor had only just caught another glancing blow with his forearm when his opponent fell prey to violent impatience.

The Duro, foolishly assuming he could do-in the academic and still steer, had drawn a vibroblade and began to swat at the Neti with reckless abandon. Sa'ato needed an out, and he needed it fast. Only one idea came to mind, but as usual in such situations, the retired teacher did not relish the thought. The pair were about to pass over a small but solid rock rising from the swampy floor. Calling on the Force to accelerate his powers of transformation and alter the flow of energy moving within him, the professor extended his arm out into a clawed tendril. Striking hard at the unsuspecting stone, he effectively anchored both himself and the speeder bikes in place.

The strain was agonizing, and had Sa'ato not trained to resist the suffocating call of unconsciousness, he might well have blacked out. All the same, he held his ground, growling fiercely as the bikes' engines sent the entire procession spinning wildly about in a circle. The Neti was well aware that he could not last long before his limb rebelled and snapped free. Thus being the case, he focused all his concentration into the angle of his tether, adjusting it bit by bit until the belly of the conjoined chassis flashed up at the sky. Separated from a solid surface, the bikes' repulsorlift units sputtered into non-being, which caused both to plummet into the muck below.

It was hardly a pleasant landing. If Sa'ato had possessed any true bone and cartilage, it would have doubtless been pulped on impact. The Duro, for his part, cried out in terror and jumped free at the last minute. The fear of underpaid guard was fueled further as the Neti righted himself, snapping joints and his sinuous neck back into place. To any onlooker, Sa'ato might have been counted as a member of the walking dead. But for the professor this was simply a hazard of his new profession. The Duro raised his sidearm in a feeble attempt to halt the Sith interloper, but their heightened emotions gave the academic ample strength to swat the bolts aside.

Channeling his own anger and frustration, Sa'ato hefted one of the bikes, now separated, by its crossbeams, and swung with all his might at his red-eyed attacker. The man could barely utter a yelp as his torso was punted several yards away into the neighboring canopy. The Neti made no effort to uncover what became of him, and simply righted his original vehicle before speeding off to locate his partner in crime. Despite her own misgivings about her ability to use the Force, Kressara's unique energy signature was not hard to sense. Not entirely out of character, Sa'ato found her resting almost too-serenely on a sheet of artificial ice.

"You've received a minor injury", the Neti noted dryly, "I myself could use a regeneration cycle-". He paused to offer a hand to his colleague and help her take a seat behind him, "We seem to have neutralized our pursuers- let us return to the ship"...

[Kressara Thryn]

Through dense underbrush came another hover bike and for a moment the tired sith thought she might have to put whatever energy she had left towards another fight. Soon though, the Neti emerged from verdant coverage and slowed to a stop in front of Kressara who was sitting with both legs sprawled in front of her, leaned back against one palm while her iced over arm rested over a dirt smeared thigh.
She was beaming like a fool and out of breath, staring up at the professor when she answered, “You look pretty rough, teach. I think we earned ourselves a mini vacation, yeah?”

The bag was still with him, which meant they escaped with their prize, and Sa’ato was still mostly in one piece! Mostly. That was a success as far as she was concerned. Snickering, the frosted assassin sat upright and reached with her uninjured arm to grasp a wooden hand, pulling her up off the forest floor and onto the back of the bike. “I learned a new trick! Kinda…”

Tucking her mildly burned arm against her midsection so it couldn’t be whipped by passing foliage, Kress hung onto the Neti with the other and hugged the bike with her legs.

“Let me treat you to something on our way back to the academy. Whatever Neti’s do to celebrate, it’s on me.” Patting him on the shoulder before anchoring herself again, she couldn’t wait to get a couple drinks and a good long nap in.

The venture back to the ship wasn’t nearly as eventful as their expedition had been until then, though they would have to be cautious of passing patrols from the facility out searching the jungle for them and the missing specimen. So much trouble for a little plant, but with it, they could cultivate the specimen and use it to produce a counter drug to glitterstim, one that would allow Kressara to continue her usage with far less negative repercussions. She might get some memory loss back, or struggle less to maintain her physique and retain information. Who knows, it could even help her to focus more on an educational level if she wasn’t constantly coming out of a daze whenever she was around the professor. Glitterstim opened the force to her whereas she couldn’t access it sober most days, and it did give her an incredible amount of self made luck, but it fogged her mind and made it difficult to stay healthy. She viewed their efforts as a way to negate the drug’s most harmful effects, while Sa’ato saw an even greater use for it…a tool to curb her addiction.

[Professor Mors]

"A generous offer– ", the Neti commented with a dry, tired laugh, "but I have no intention of boring you to death with one of my hobbies before our work is complete". The moment of brevity passed quickly, and Sa'ato countenance returned to its usual stony composure. Yes, the work had only just begun, and there would be little room for gaiety in the near future. If nothing else, the professor doubted very much that the corvid would be keen to offer a vacation or outing once they had taken the next step in 'treatment'. Still, for the sake of commitment, and his own insatiable curiosity, the academic prepared to forge ahead…

***
The professor was clement enough to give his blonde accomplice a full twenty-four hour respite before summoning her to the Mudhorn's main cargo hold. He himself rested little, and various bits of machinery could be heard echoing throughout the ship for long stretches of time. Sa'ato greeted Kressara with a nod, and gestured to what seemed like a simple operating table– were it not obviously connected to what was clearly a power generator the size of a compact speeder. The academic casually handed his companion a medical gown before turning about to finalize a slew of settings on the main control console.

"Research suggests that psycho-stimulation from bota plant enzymes occur only in excessive amounts over a long period of time", Sa'ato explained cooly whilst typing away, "If you need to consume more than four grams per dose you're just as likely to become dependent on this as your usual… remedies". Having waited– and sensed that enough time had elapsed for his specimen to dress-down or refuse, the Neti spun on his heel, and took up a modest syringe from a nearby tray-table. In one swift, practiced motion, he took Kress' by the wrist, and sent a lurid lime-colored concoction straight into the nearest artery.

He motioned for the corvid to lie down, waiting until she had down so before quite literally strapping her in. While fastening several reinforced straps, Sa'ato continued, "I've just injected you with most of the core compounds found in the bota crop. Eighty-eight percent of its makeup is nonmetals. It responds to, and is formed via certain electrochemical reactions. We need to familiarize your body with the plant's chemical signature so it can provide the necessary charge whenever you consume a fresh, regulated dose…".

Once he was certain his human test subject was secure, the Neti procured a simple, silicone mouth-guard. Holding it aloft and waiting for the patient to accept, Sa'ato forced a slight, well-intentioned smile, and concluded, "I wish there were a less– intense method to motivate your bioelectric field… but, well, this may sting a bit…"

[Kressara Thryn]

Flying blind into the next step while suspended in space, nowhere to run from the treatment she technically signed up for, Kressara strolled casual into the room. Baggy black cargos and a burgundy sports tank with feet bare in spite of intergalactic cold was her change of choice. Freshly cleaned swaths of glittering white gold were tucked into a tie just barely holding on to all that hair and the light burns on her arm were already puffing up in an attempt to heal. Floss pulled tight between two hands slid between white teeth, tongue sparkling like she drank holo lipgloss. Discarding it into the nearest waste receptacle, the relaxed assassin gave his setup a once over and took the gown with an arch of her brow.

“Really? If you wanted a show every time I turned around, you could have just asked. Don’t have to put me in the cheek flasher 5,000…or is that what the table is for?” With a nasal sigh she set to work undressing and wrapped herself in the obnoxiously stiff scrap of fabric, pulling the edges past their intended placement to wrap around her waist and tie at the front while she listened. When Sa’ato turned, a devious smirk pulled her lips before shouting, “NAKED! NAKED!” only to shrug when her joke didn’t exactly bring down the house. “Okay, but you believed me for like, a third of a second. I saw it in your eyes. So anyways, what’s the point? Then I’ll just have two expensive habits…Aye aye aye! Easy with the Nal Hutta margarita mix. You’ll blow a vein.” She wasn’t squeamish with needles, naturally, but the limey substance cooling her blood as it entered felt gross to say the least. “Doesn’t have the same feel good fizz glitterstim does. Put that on the development to-do list will ya?”

Sa’ato motioned to the table, the whole thing giving Kressara pause. Her jaw tightened, goosebumps on the back of her neck giving her the inclination that this was probably a horrible idea. “Alright, but we need a safe phrase. I prefer Top’a the morning myself…” She relinquished her apprehension and hopped up, laying down when the professor’s methodical securing of straps almost fully distracted her from his explanation. The entire time, both fists remained tightly shut. “So we just run a few little currents through me, right? What’s that gonna be, a couple volts? Cause I- Oh…alright now you’re just trying to live out a fantasy here, aren’t you?” The strap being lifted to her lips earned a nervous chuckle. “If I see any hardwood sprouting when you flip the switch, I’m gonna break these straps and turn you into a table…or a nice deck or something…”

Teeth bit the strap before answering around it, “A vit? How mush ish a vit?”

[Professor Mors]

Despite their many concerted efforts to provoke a reaction, Kressara's joking and buffoonery did little more than elicit the occasional eye roll from the Neti. "We'll begin at a lower setting", Sa'ato endeavored to explain, sliding a pair of protective UV goggles, "Quarter-power, two hundred and fifty volts". From where she lay, the confined corvid would not be at risk of any light pollution from the immense generator. The professor, conversely, had to take careful steps, tightening the strap on his eyewear just to be safe. "My calculations suggest an induction period between forty two to one hundred and seventy three seconds", he added, hovering over the main power switch.

Sa'ato paused one last time to give Kressara a nod and a feeble thumbs-up, "Hopefully your system adjusts after the first discharge or three". With that, the Neti called "Time!", in a gruff tone, and activated the rig. Wave after wave of raw electrical energy sizzled and shocked its way across the begrudging blonde's bound bod. The professor, for his part, had to blink several times amidst the sudden, intense font of light, and nearly missed his chrono hitting the first time marker. Finally, after less than a minute, but what surely felt like an eternity to the slightest-toasted troublemaker, the crackle of the generator subsided, and the academic immediately moved to check vitals.

A look of disappointment immediately creased across Sa'ato's features. "Not even a point nine percent chemical interaction", he grumbled aloud before further cranking an ominously large dial on his panel interface, "We'll have to jump to half strength if there's to be any chance for success". A gilt eye flashed down at the smoking socialite with a mixture of social pity and intellectual indifference, "Take the next minute and a half to prepare– any longer and this will only become more difficult for you". The Neti said what he meant and meant what he said, his gaze shifting back to the chrono, waiting to presume treatment at the allotted time.

When that brief respite had passed, Sa'ato called out his intention once more, flipped the switch, and gave Kressara a second, more severe helping of energized hell…