Chapter 22: fat bastard

I ran a finger over the right side of my face, tracing the metal and electronics that covered the servos, wires, gears, and pistons that served as the synthetic muscles for the right side of my face.

Though synthskin had been layered over the majority of the machinery, the very top layer of the assembly still poked out along my jawline and around my cheek.

It formed a geometric web-like pattern made of uniform gray durasteel.

Cybernetics had to be custom designed for each implantation. No two injuries were ever exactly the same, so adjustments had to be made. Arms and legs were easier, as they only had to make minor adjustments.

It took a day for the surgeons to plan out the surgery, then another day to design and manufacture the prosthetic.

In the meantime, I had searched the Archives for mention of a specific power.

While the surgeons began their preparations, I had practiced with using the Force to numb my sense of pain. Known as Crucitorn, it originated with the Jedi as a method to resist crippling pain…or increase it in others. Using my knife to poke at my arm, I practiced over and over until I stopped feeling anything.

At least, when I desired not to feel anything. Just to make sure I could shut it on and off, I stopped concentrating and jabbed my arm again. I had smiled as a spike of pain followed the drops of blood that welled up from the cut.

Completely worth the weird looks I got from the doctors.

Besides being an alternative to anesthesia, it was a possible method of curbing my…berserker tendencies. If pain was what triggered it, Crucitorn would help regulate it, but only if I knew it was coming. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it was at least something.

The doctors didn't ask when I refused to be put under, nor when I refused to have a droid do the installation. Apparently, they were common enough requests, especially with the Czerka corporation logo on the droid's chassis.

Settling myself into a meditative pose, I had watched the doctors carefully as they worked. It was an odd feeling to see them cut strips of dead skin and muscle off me, yet not feel anything more than some pressure.

The whirring of the drill was particularly disconcerting as they bolted the metal to my bones. Though the lightsaber had only damaged part of my face, they had to remove most of the muscles related to jaw movement on the right side of my face to make room for the entire assembly. They would have atrophied from disuse later on anyways.

The entire surgery had taken six hours, most of which was spent attaching connection ports to the surviving nerves to enable the machinery to read signals from my brain, as well as give me some manner of feeling there.

A layer of armor-weave had been bonded to the thin strip of surviving skin separating the inside of my mouth from the machinery that made up the majority of the right side of my face to prevent the moving parts from irritating it.

Tiny processors regulated how much force my new muscles exerted so I didn't accidentally shatter my teeth when I closed my mouth too quickly.

Apparently, it wasn't fancy by any means, but I really didn't care. I preferred function over form anyways…but I thought it still looked pretty badass.

As soon as the surgery was finished, I was booted out of the medical suite to make room for someone else. It was the second busiest place in the academy.

That was four weeks ago. Since then, I've been mostly by myself. Garsh, Gaarurra, and the twins were all sent off-world for their second trials and I didn't know when they would be back. Tentacles has been scarce, as per usual, so he was probably wherever his hidey-hole was.

I really needed to track him down one of these days.

The other two, however, I've seen in the meantime. Tails was skulking around in the archives. She looked to be in one of her usual moods, so I left her to her business while I scoured the shelves for alchemical texts.

Yellow Eyes came back from wherever the hell she'd gone a few days after I got back. She had started to put on the usual "I'm better than you" act when she came back to the dorm, but she froze for a moment when she saw my new additions. An expression I still can't name formed on her face before she left the common room without a word. She had left again the next day.

...

In the four weeks since my venture into Ragnos' tomb, I've made two ventures back to Renning's camp. The fat bastard was delighted to see me and was more than willing to continue our lessons, especially since I had brought three specimens with me. He acted like he hadn't tortured me with lightning.

I wanted to gut him more and more with every word that came tumbling out of his mouth. But I reigned it in. Patience was key and I needed his knowledge.

Renning was positively gleeful that I showed interest in his branch of work.

The first lesson I demanded was in healing. It would be useless in healing my face, as I would need to remove the cybernetics first. Nevertheless, I would not be reliant on more such surgeries again, though I was a long way from being able to perform regeneration.

Tukata were sliced open by my hand, again and again. Beneath that same hand, flesh warped and sealed, leaving no mark that the wounds had ever been there. I was a long way from proper regeneration, but it was a start.

Healing moved to fleshcrafting, morphing creatures into what I desired. With an effort of will and a few spoken words, I shaped minor mutations into the skin of a Tukata, hardening its scales and strengthening its muscles. Fleshcrafting lead to cellular manipulation.

Bit by bit, my knowledge grew. Miniscule in the face of a master, though it was a base to work from. But I only needed Renning to a point. Instruction in reading and designing rituals, the proper safety precautions, the needed tools…I only needed one more thing.

I prepared extensively for this. I studied, both texts and Renning himself. Under Force Sight, I examined his body, looking for a specific spot. Once my lessons with him were finished, I made my move.

...

The day started like any other as I had brought in one last Tukata and secured it. I had been keeping an eye on this one for some time, knowing that Renning would not be able to resist the beast. It was a true monster, standing taller and broader than even the first one I had brought him nearly a month ago. Its eyes seemed to gleam with an unnatural intelligence.

If I didn't know better, I would swear that it knew what I needed it for. Either my skill at Beast Control had grown considerably…or the creature let me take control. It followed me back to the camp like a docile pet, not struggling against my mental control like the others had.

It made all the proper snarls and snaps at the soldiers to sell the act, but it didn't do anything more.

As I predicted, Renning dropped everything when we walked into camp. Really, he was like a child being presented with the next best toy, discarding his old one in an instant. As per usual, I donned the surgical gloves and gown as he put the beast to sleep and levitated it onto his lab table. With such a magnificent specimen before him, he took his time selecting his tools.

While the seconds ticked by, my heart hammered in my chest and I wondered if it was audible. Around us, the Tukata in the cages around us paced, as though they could sense my emotions.

This wasn't an acolyte like Castor. Renning was a full-blown Sith Lord, even if he was a researcher. One wrong move, and I would be dead. Or worse. I couldn't afford to hesitate once it started.

He was at least somewhat cautious. Ever since I met him, he had never turned his back to me, not completely. This stayed true now. As he examined scalpel after scalpel, he kept me in his field of vision. Finally, he picked his tools.

Though his footsteps were muffled by the sand, to me they sounded like thunder. Soon, it was all I could hear. Numbly, I took my place on the opposite side of the dissection table.

For a few minutes, all Renning did was examine the great beast between us. He ran a hand up and down its neck and the crown of its head, searching for signs of a weak spot in the scales. He always examined the brain and spinal cord first. The moment he found it, I knew it was time.

Without taking my eyes off the Sith Lord, I sent a pulse to the beast, breaking the spell of sleep. Renning sensed it and his head started turning towards me. A chill of fear ran through me. But before he could do anything more, one huge red eye snapped open as the Tukata's massive head swept around, its gaping maw slamming shut around both of Renning's arms. Its fangs pierced through his limbs, trapping them. But rather than thrash and tear them off, it stopped.

And waited.

Renning gasped in pain and lightning crackled as he tried to shock the beast, but the electricity danced harmlessly across its skin. It almost seemed amused at his efforts. The Sith Lord's gaze slipped to me.

It was almost too easy.

One moment, Renning was struggling against the Tukata. The next, his eyes bulged, his limbs went limp and he collapsed, held up only by the monster. From the back of his neck, a scalpel stuck out, impaled between his C5 and C6 vertebrae. Placed precisely to leave him quadriplegic, but still leave him capable of breathing.

How careless of him to leave his tools where I could see them. Telekinesis was such a useful trick.

As I circled the table, a look of realization dawned on his face, though it quickly turned to red-faced rage, "Acolyte! What are you-"

"Shhh," I shushed him, putting one finger to my lips. He was so shocked at the gesture that he did so, "I'm experimenting."

He opened his mouth to yell again. I placed a hand on his forehead and pushed into his mind. Humanoid minds weren't so different from animals, no? For someone that works with Tukata so much, perhaps his mind was like that of one? I pressed the concepts of "docility" and "obedience" on his mind with the subtly of a sledgehammer.

Immediately, all emotion left Renning's face. From the corner of his mouth, saliva started to dribble out.

I leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Tell me how to access your notes and files."

Through the drool, he managed to mutter the instructions and passwords back. As he did, a smile slowly spread across my face.

This had not been an unthinking rage, like what I used to kill Castor. This had been a slow, simmering anger that had festered for nearly a month. It was…satisfying to finally release it in this manner.

Satisfying in ways that I have no words for. It wasn't like a physical satisfaction, but it affected me that way regardless as a thrill of pleasure went down my spine.

In the end, Ragnos was correct. Sometimes, you don't need an elaborate, labyrinthine plan to deal with your enemy. You merely needed wait for the right moment before crushing them beneath your boot. Utterly destroying their legacy was just a bonus.

As I stood up, Renning's lightsaber detached itself from his belt and floated to my hand. It was a simple thing. A silver cylinder with a heavy black grip and thick emitter shroud. I pressed the activation button and the red blade ignited. Not my favorite color…but I think I could get used to it.

I casually stuck the point of the weapon through Renning's head, deactivated it, and placed the weapon into a deep pocket.

With a mental nudge, the Tukata began dragging the drooling idiot out into the desert. What it did there, I could care less. I accessed Renning's datapads and began copying all the documents I could find onto mine.

The soldiers in the camp had gathered around by now, watching the scene in stunned silence. Maklan was in front, watching the Tukata and its likely soon-to-be dinner walk away.

As I approached the soldier, he spoke, a malicious grin on his face, "So, what's the story going to be, milord?"

I glanced behind me, then looked back at him, "Clearly, he improperly secured his latest prize in his haste to examine it. You and your men were guarding the perimeter, too far away to assist. By the time you assembled, it had already managed to overpower him.

Your blasters were not strong enough to do any damage to it due to some freak mutation and it escaped into the desert, Renning in tow."

Maklan looked me in the eye for a long moment before nodding. Bringing up his rifle, he switched it to autofire and started spraying the lab area with fire, making sure to leave plenty of carbon scoring around the main dissection table.

The others caught on quick and joined in. Thankfully, Renning had been courteous enough to bleed everywhere on his way out.

Satisfied smile on my face, I made my way back to my swoop bike and headed back to the academy, the cheers and laughter of soldiers behind me.

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