Logged September 18, 2001
Logged by Sato Prine
Titled:  Spectre Becomes Cha'vin
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Characters: 
Sato Prine 
Spectre
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Log edited for content

Darth Cabal's Chambers -- Cinnagar 

These are an entire portion of the Palace, set aside for Clan Leader
Darth Cabal's personal use. A grand hall bisects the end of the wing and
leads to a Grand Foyer. Grand stairs lead to upper floors and to a more
private throne room smaller than the more public grand one. Smaller
corridors lead off from the main one to bedchambers, labs, torture chambers,
menageries, concubine quarters and other more specific rooms as he uses in
his dark arts.

Spectre is just dumped in a heap like they said. He doesn't even groan in
response. Perhaps it is good he can't feel anything now.

Again countless time passes.... Cabal appears suddenly in the room
containing Spectre and his mood and visage grim. He snarls at the sight of
weakened servant near spent on his floor. "So this is what not failing me
looks like does it?" He mocks uncaring if Spectre has the health to even
hear. "Rather on the messy side..." He steps over the heap as he inspects
it.

It isn't HIS Fault that another god cooked him. At the sound of his master's
voice, he appears to stir or at least try to. Tail twitches faintly and
there is a gurgling as the feline perhaps tries to breath again with his
probably punctured lung.

Sato Prine kneels atop Spectre and seizes him by the throat till he can feel
the weakened heart beat. He synchs with it and rolling his eyes back in his
head pays the terrible price for mercy as he attempts to share enough life
with Spectre so that the creature not expire on him. How dare he try! The
Trianii's life was not his own to die and Cabal was not yet ready to give
Spectre the final blessing of sending him to the void. "Live!" He commands
as if other is not a choice.

Spectre probably repays the Dark lord well. He shrieks in pain as he becomes
much more aware of his surroundings. The original blood lust that sent him
into battle no longer blocks the feelings of pain. His side is still leaking
various fluids, his lung is still punctured and ribs broken. Knife wounds
rend through this skin and fur into organs. And finally the muscle pain from
being fried. He writhes in agony.

More mire adds to that al ready on the floor as single handed on Spectre's
throat still, Cabal lifts the creature to take him to more appropriate
setting....his personal lab. Not the more shared one below the temple but
the one quite near in his very wing of the palace. In short order Spectre is
laying upon steel table his wounds spot lit with pain sensing beacons. Cabal
grins in pain, fear and hate filled delight as he sets about the business of
healing and further altering his pet. "You know you need a new name for what
was once Spectre is dead and it is new thing that you have become..."

Spectre knows only pain and just barely understands Cabal's words. He gasps,
"Would....capture Bor...." He rolls his eyes back as another wave hits him,
"But....god interfere....." He gags on his own blood.

"SILNCE!" Cabal booms both to Spectre's normal ear and directly tapping his
mind in the forceful command. He takes up a beaker of iridescent chartreuse
oil and pours it as slave over Spectre's blaster wound, the acids sear and
in painful fashion cleanse the area as Cabal intones holding palm some
decimeter over the area and small sparks arc from his hand to the oil force
energizing it.

Spectre silences himself completely. He TRIES not to screech with the pain.
The result is blood coming from his mouth as he bites down on his lips and
tongue to stop himself from going against his master's will. He tenses and
begins shaking as he tries not to buck. Tears stream from the feline's eyes
and gasps rack his body and noisily air passes through his nose, again in an
attempt not to scream.

As muscles reattach and capillaries clear, Cabal lets the charged alchemical
substance work its sorceries on Spectre's surface wound. He pours more oil
into the stab wounds and with an outstretched hand charges it to do its
painful work. With other hand the Sith Lord strokes a length of Spectre's
fang as if proud of his own workmanship.

Spectre opens his eyes, tears streaming down his face. He shakes some more.
He would be hyperventilating but the broken bones in his chest make even
breathing painful.

Bones fuse and with each mend things alter slightly and still nothing has
been done about the surface and soul burns of the chain lightening. Cabal
sets the beaker aside and takes up a pair of mittens for his kitten. They
are elbow length and seem to be made out of some biosilicate fused with a
dark metal. The fingers elongate into vicious claws some 4 inches in
extension of where the gloved fingertips stop. The gloves lie in a tray
amidst a pool of fluid and if one looked closely they moved of their own
volition, just a hint of a twitch as if they possessed their own heart beat.

Spectre still attempts to NOT scream horribly. His eyes are nearly closed
with tears still flowing. He waits for his chances to breath, wishes that
despite the pain of healing that he could breath clear again.

Bones warp a bit under the torture, veins splay larger in bulge against
their restraining skin as Spectre's metabolism is altered and played with by
the god and his alchemical toys. Cabal blesses the gloves before taking them
from their pan and sliding first one then the other on Spectre's hands. He
gives an eye's baleful glare to each and with the force of the Sith Lord's
will the Gloves fuse to Spectre's hands and arms biologically becoming one
with him, the Trianii's heart beat sustaining their biotech in basic form.
"Cha'vin!" Cabal calls his creation by its new name for the first time.
"Rise Cha'vin and embrace your new husk that I give you drawing you from
Death's brink yet again!" His voice trails off with a slight insane cackle.

Spectre slowly gets to his feet. He arches his hands and feels the metal
upon his arms. He glances at the blades and sniffs in their direction.

The transmutation still takes place yet Cabal runs a hand down Cha'vin's
forearm till he runs palm across the claws themselves slicing his palm in
two places. The Sith's blood joins in the fusing process and steams as if
extra catalytic enzyme. "Boris has been punished but the cost was too great.
I am not pleased my pet, my Cha'vin. If I allow a next time, do not hover so
on boarder of success and failure, it is black and white just like your
proud honor. There is success and there is death. Your life is mine so death
is not an option, you have only success left to you."

Cha'vin nods, "Yehhsss Maaahhsterrr." He rumbles a bit as he finds his
voice. He watches the changes, not able to do anything to prevent it, and if
there is pain then it is not any different from before. He growls and
accent. He adds, "Whaht of Otherrrr God? One who stop Cha'vin?"

"He is gone from this world and is not your concern other than that you
remain out of his and harms way." Cabal commands. "Your mission is
accomplished, now go and rest and complete your healing with time. Learn the
new weapons I have given you and meditate on your failings, they will not
twice be tolerated. I am a compassionate master, do not further disappoint
me."

Cha'vin nods, "Yehs Mahsterrrr" He speaking improves and he searches for his
sleeping spot on the floor. The claws have much to be learned about. He
pulls at them a little, trying to feel how they are attached.

They are one with the cat now to yank them off would yank at his very bones
themselves. The Sith Lord gives a final ruffling to Cha'vin's mated and
blood stained fur before sweeping from the chamber to other delights.

Cha'vin wonders if he will ever have a decent meal again. He watches Sato
stalk off and shakes his head ever so slightly. He feels glad he is not one
of the Lord's concubines. For he is sure they will be screaming tonight.
Slowly lowering himself to the ground, he tries to find comfort heat. His
stomach grumbles but he has no choice but to ignore it.,

END LOG