Some of the warmth had seeped from Tahiri's eyes as she met Karla's gaze, but her usual stubbornness was -- for now -- undiluted. She jerked her chin downward briefly in a fierce nod.
When Mezhan Kwaad and Nen Yim entered the vivarium this time, Tahiri watched them come in, not realizing there was something new and different about the predatory nature of her own gaze.
"I would advise you not to attack us with your Jeedai tricks," Mezhan Kwaad told her. "The provoker has been told to stimulate you to great agony if we are afflicted in any way. Though in time you will come to understand agony, at the moment you seem to dislike it, and it clearly disrupts your concentration. There are worse things we could do to you."
Tahiri's eyes widened. "I can understand you," she said. Then she stopped, looking even more confused. "I'm not speaking Basic. This is --"
"You speak our language now, yes," the master shaper said. "If you are to be one of us, you must speak the sacred tongue."
"Be one of you?" she sneered. "Thanks, but I'd much rather be the slime under a Hutt."
"That's because you perceive yourself an infidel," Mezhan Kwaad said reasonably. "You do not underístand us, and there are things that confound us about you and the other Jeedai. But we will understand you, and you will understand us. You will become a tissue connecting the Yuuzhan Vong and the Jeedai, nurturing both. You will make it possible for understanding to flow both ways."
"That's what you want from me?"
"You are the path to peace," Mezhan Kwaad assured her.
"Kidnapping me won't get you peace!" she shouted.
"We did not kidnap you," Mezhan Kwaad said. "We rescued you from the other infidels, remember?"
"You're twisting things," Tahiri snapped. "The whole reason they captured me was to give me to you."
The master's headdress rearranged itself into an expression of mild anger.
"Memory is a most malleable commodity," Mezhan Kwaad said. "It is mostly chemical. For instance, you now know our language. You did not learn it."
"You put it there," Tahiri insisted.
"Yes. Your memory of the words, the grammar, the syntax. All introduced to you."
"So you can implant memories. Big deal. We Jedi can do that, as well."
"Indeed. I have no doubt those Jeedai abilities could do much to confuse one as young as yourself. How many of your memories are real? How many manufactured? How could you tell the difference?"
"What's your point?"
"My point is this. Right now you think you are -- what is it, Taher'ai?"
She clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. "My name is Tahiri."
"Yes. Tahiri, a young Jeedai candidate, raised by a tribe strange to her --"
"Sand People." How did they know all this? What had she told them? Had they gotten it out of her mind somehow?
"Of course. But soon enough, you will remember. After we've stripped away the false memories and undone the disgusting modifications made to your body, you will remember who you are."
Tahiri's throat went tight with fury. "What are you talking about?"
"You are Riina of Domain Kwaad. You are one of us. You always have been."
"No! I know who my parents were!"
"You know the lies you were told, the memories you were given. Fear not. We will bring you back."
With that, Mezhan Kwaad signaled to Nen Yim and the two of them turned to leave. They were still in view when Tahiri slumped to the floor and started to sob -- she'd cried before now, but this was the first time she'd ever been on the edge of giving in.
[[Lightly adapted from Edge of Victory 1: Conquest by Greg Keyes.]]
no subject
When Mezhan Kwaad and Nen Yim entered the vivarium this time, Tahiri watched them come in, not realizing there was something new and different about the predatory nature of her own gaze.
"I would advise you not to attack us with your Jeedai tricks," Mezhan Kwaad told her. "The provoker has been told to stimulate you to great agony if we are afflicted in any way. Though in time you will come to understand agony, at the moment you seem to dislike it, and it clearly disrupts your concentration. There are worse things we could do to you."
Tahiri's eyes widened. "I can understand you," she said. Then she stopped, looking even more confused. "I'm not speaking Basic. This is --"
"You speak our language now, yes," the master shaper said. "If you are to be one of us, you must speak the sacred tongue."
"Be one of you?" she sneered. "Thanks, but I'd much rather be the slime under a Hutt."
"That's because you perceive yourself an infidel," Mezhan Kwaad said reasonably. "You do not underístand us, and there are things that confound us about you and the other Jeedai. But we will understand you, and you will understand us. You will become a tissue connecting the Yuuzhan Vong and the Jeedai, nurturing both. You will make it possible for understanding to flow both ways."
"That's what you want from me?"
"You are the path to peace," Mezhan Kwaad assured her.
"Kidnapping me won't get you peace!" she shouted.
"We did not kidnap you," Mezhan Kwaad said. "We rescued you from the other infidels, remember?"
"You're twisting things," Tahiri snapped. "The whole reason they captured me was to give me to you."
The master's headdress rearranged itself into an expression of mild anger.
"Memory is a most malleable commodity," Mezhan Kwaad said. "It is mostly chemical. For instance, you now know our language. You did not learn it."
"You put it there," Tahiri insisted.
"Yes. Your memory of the words, the grammar, the syntax. All introduced to you."
"So you can implant memories. Big deal. We Jedi can do that, as well."
"Indeed. I have no doubt those Jeedai abilities could do much to confuse one as young as yourself. How many of your memories are real? How many manufactured? How could you tell the difference?"
"What's your point?"
"My point is this. Right now you think you are -- what is it, Taher'ai?"
She clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. "My name is Tahiri."
"Yes. Tahiri, a young Jeedai candidate, raised by a tribe strange to her --"
"Sand People." How did they know all this? What had she told them? Had they gotten it out of her mind somehow?
"Of course. But soon enough, you will remember. After we've stripped away the false memories and undone the disgusting modifications made to your body, you will remember who you are."
Tahiri's throat went tight with fury. "What are you talking about?"
"You are Riina of Domain Kwaad. You are one of us. You always have been."
"No! I know who my parents were!"
"You know the lies you were told, the memories you were given. Fear not. We will bring you back."
With that, Mezhan Kwaad signaled to Nen Yim and the two of them turned to leave. They were still in view when Tahiri slumped to the floor and started to sob -- she'd cried before now, but this was the first time she'd ever been on the edge of giving in.
[[Lightly adapted from Edge of Victory 1: Conquest by Greg Keyes.]]