The only response from Riina, after a moment of surprise that she'd been addressed directly, was a snarl of defiance: Krel os'a hmi va ta!
"I couldn't stop them," Tahiri half mumbled, looking up at Karla miserably. "I tried, but I couldn't . . ."
She couldn't tell how much more time had passed, but the pain got more sporadic and yet more systematic. If she thought about her life at the academy or on Tatooine before that, if she called herself Tahiri, if she spoke to them in Basic, the provoker spineray dropped her to the ground in agony. If she remembered a childhood spent on a worldship with her crèchemates, answered their questions in their language -- the pain didn't come. And even when it did she learned to welcome it.
"What is your name?" asked Nen Yim, crouching nearby on the other side of the membrane.
"It is --" A fresh wave of pain cut off the answer she'd been about to give, and only subsided when she told herself that answer was wrong. "My name is Riina Kwaad."
That answer seemed to please the shapers, and the conditioning continued. The same questions were asked day after day, and the answers came with less hesitation. They told her she had been born with certain powers that might have been crippled when the infidels native to this galaxy captured her and tried to make her one of them; they wanted to test that power.
"It didn't hurt," she said in surprise after the first time Mezhan Kwaad asked her to use her powers to lift a stone. "I thought it would hurt."
"You see? Your cure is progressing well. Soon you will remember everything about your life as a Yuuzhan Vong," Mezhan Kwaad promised her.
"I wish," she began, and trailed off wistfully.
"What?"
"I feel like I'm two halves of two different people, glued together," she said. "I wish I were whole again."
"You will be," Mezhan Kwaad answered. "Before you know it, you will be. Now, if you could lift the stone again, please . . ."
no subject
"I couldn't stop them," Tahiri half mumbled, looking up at Karla miserably. "I tried, but I couldn't . . ."
She couldn't tell how much more time had passed, but the pain got more sporadic and yet more systematic. If she thought about her life at the academy or on Tatooine before that, if she called herself Tahiri, if she spoke to them in Basic, the provoker spineray dropped her to the ground in agony. If she remembered a childhood spent on a worldship with her crèchemates, answered their questions in their language -- the pain didn't come. And even when it did she learned to welcome it.
"What is your name?" asked Nen Yim, crouching nearby on the other side of the membrane.
"It is --" A fresh wave of pain cut off the answer she'd been about to give, and only subsided when she told herself that answer was wrong. "My name is Riina Kwaad."
That answer seemed to please the shapers, and the conditioning continued. The same questions were asked day after day, and the answers came with less hesitation. They told her she had been born with certain powers that might have been crippled when the infidels native to this galaxy captured her and tried to make her one of them; they wanted to test that power.
"It didn't hurt," she said in surprise after the first time Mezhan Kwaad asked her to use her powers to lift a stone. "I thought it would hurt."
"You see? Your cure is progressing well. Soon you will remember everything about your life as a Yuuzhan Vong," Mezhan Kwaad promised her.
"I wish," she began, and trailed off wistfully.
"What?"
"I feel like I'm two halves of two different people, glued together," she said. "I wish I were whole again."
"You will be," Mezhan Kwaad answered. "Before you know it, you will be. Now, if you could lift the stone again, please . . ."