The Twi’lek stood in her cell. She’d been here for a couple of days now.

“Nothing quite like a a cage and a shock collar to get you to miss the good old days.”, she said to her jailer.

The jailer pressed the button, as the Twi’lek tried to suppress the painful scream as the shock collar did it’s job, sending agonizing electrical charges down her spine. Unable to do so, she let out a muffled groan of pain.

The jailer approached the cage with a smile on his face; “Go ahead, sing for me you little Tailhead-Schutta.”

“I’ll take being a Tailhead-Schutta over being some half-wit Sith-boot-licking whipping boy any day.” Still slumped in the corner in pain, she couldn’t help but chuckle a little to herself. She knew more pain was coming … but screwing with this idiot was worth it.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, slave!”, the jailer responded … not content with simply a shock collar, he walked over to the cage controls, turned the dial up and pressed the button. His eyes lit up as the Twi’leks body coursed with electricity from the cage; a smile on his face as she finally let out a painful scream… her ‘song’ as he called it.

“It’s going to be fun breaking you for Apprentice Garath”, he sneered with a sadistic smile on his face.

Just as he said it, the Twi’lek watched as a second figure entered the room… creeping behind her jailer… like a cat about to pounce.

“Hey ugly, you really should look behind you…” She said with her typical sass, knowing all to well that with her suggestion … it would be the last thing he’d do.

His attention focused squarely on her, he smiled and shook his head; “Not falling for that one again… you’ll have to do better.”

“You really should listen to her, you know…” as the jailer started to turn around, the figure moved in an impressive display of both speed and grace. The stranger landed three blows in less then a second, killing the jailer without so much as drawing a weapon.

As the figure approached the cage, the Twi’lek got her first look at her jailer’s killer.

Pale white skin, short black hair, deep violet lipstick and eye liner… she looked like every other Sith Lord, Apprentice, or Acolyte that had come in here to kick her around. This woman was clearly an Acolyte, the telling practice saber was still on her back. Her mind raced, thinking of one question after another.

The woman looked down at the Twi’lek, who was still mostly hidden by the shadow cast by the roof of her cage. “Lan’na I presume?”

The Twi’lek looked the woman in the eye … as their eyes locked, suddenly and inexplicably the million or so questions she thought of in a matter of a seconds … simply didn’t matter.

“Yea… let’s go with that.”