Ciphered Holos

Book had paced the room, one hand checking her ribs. They were mostly healed up now, the padawan taking her hand away from her side. The Apprentice had really packed a punch once she'd added a swing and the Force together. She recalled laughing. The induced mania had hit her without even a cushion

She knew that at least one dose of Doc's special mixture had still survived but surprisingly other than a test and demonstration of it - and if she'd not already been blocked off from the Force then... she remembered the first time Doc had shown her what he'd crafted, demonstrating it on her. Preliminary but still potent. Her hand curled into a fist and she punched the wall in anger - Karker didn't react like he was supposed to, like a normal Sith would! The anger though was immediately followed by a tempering wave of guilt she tried but couldn't shake off. Curling up in the chair she felt the two conflicting emotions and tried to sort them out, frustration mixing with anger and that brought on a crush of almost soothing depression mixed with guilt, the emotions warring in her mind.

Frustration was easy - she'd tried the door and found the house ... unintelligible. She could get no clear understanding of the estate she was currently trapped in and although the room was quite nice - bed, holoterminal, and large enough she could pace without running into herself - it was still, for all intents and purposes, a prison.

It was just a very nice and accommodating one.

Point in Karker's favor, and the despair began to fade as she focused her thoughts. He seemed to even be sincere in his apology regarding her current state, for all that she could barely read his emotions beyond a bubbly cheer at-odds with the way he'd acted under the influence of the serum. That memory still brought a shudder to her - the metallic tentacles, the claws digging in to her arm - she put a hand on that healed wound and thumb rubbed over the slight texture change that indicated the mostly-healed flesh. They should've run but she'd been certain - until Slammy and Kneecapper had arrived - that they could've taken Karker down. She shifted uneasily in her seat, hands behind her head as she curled inwards, hair spilled down her back and over her shoulder like a curtain.

The thought of attacking Karker brought around another fresh wave of guilt she tried to sort through. The guilt was starting to outweigh any other emotions leaving the Miraluka to run hands through her hair and curl even tighter into a ball. For all that he was Sith - for all that he'd so easily threatened to kill her in the Dune Sea - he had been exceptionally nice. She'd been treated better once locked up on the estate than even her brief jaunt of time with the Ministry's Inquest branch. She knew that a Sith being nice meant they usually wanted something but it was eroding her foundational beliefs as quickly as water cut through stone, slowly wearing away; she had nothing he'd asked or demanded. She was a guest in a pretty cage with no idea - other than placating his ally by keeping a known traitor confined - what the kriff he wanted. Frustration rose again but just as quickly - almost as if one triggered the other - so too did another emotion, bowing her head as this time a disappointed sadness, at herself, washed through her thoughts.

Focus. She knew she wasn't supposed to be trapped by her emotions, taking in a shallow breath and trying desperately to push them away. A hand reached out, turning the chair around so she faced the embedded terminal screen. If she couldn't get through and past the emotions and make her head settle then she would at least distract herself with work. With fingers flying over the terminal screen she started to see what she'd been 'given' access to.

Enough to keep her occupied, she decided, if she were going to play the well-behaved house guest. Ignoring the feeling like her actions were some form of betrayal she started to pick apart the code, humming to herself in broken melodies while she worked on the access, slowly elevating her rights and permissions until the locks on the terminal were gone. Focus and be careful she reminded herself, taking a shallow breath as she started to slip through system defenses to the more guarded databases, the things she liked to find. Implants she reminded herself, heading through directories towards what she hoped were research notes. Diagrams. Things she could study to help find a way to remove the damned things and help Sriia do the same.

The block on those systems was stronger, Book biting the inside of her lip as she worked to avoid triggering alarms. Once she had the terminal shifting through the directories though she knew it would take a while - she didn't have her kit with her, working instead off of just her skills alone. She watched the protections crack, just a sliver, and she got through, starting to pull files to find information but there was... nothing. Niggling at the back of her mind was a growing feeling of betrayal - there should be something she could study. Some way, some method, some note that would give her an edge but instead - nothing!

Her fingers paused over the console before she did one last thing, coding off a message tagged for the nearest Kaas relay, buried under tags that should let the system send it out. Coordinates and location she'd picked up from the terminal. Enough to hopefully have someone be able to track her.

She was certain the message had gotten out, confident in her skills at hiding it. She didn't see the command to delete the message, or the tracers on her movements in the systems, a delicate latticework of triggering alarms she couldn't have hoped to avoid. Instead she was almost buoyed by the hope that she'd gotten something out, found a way around the restrictions and managed to beat Karker at his own game.