as written by Calcos
Somewhere below the ruins of Senara...
She awoke in a daze, the air about her cold and eerie. She bolted upright; too quickly it seemed, as the searing agony of a migraine raced through her head like a plasma bolt. Gripping her head in one hand, she grimaced, hissing through her teeth and internally begging the pain to leave her. "You've recovered. Good." The voice she heard resonated with the same monotone distance that her master spoke with.
She turned her head to the left, peering the looming, armor-clad figure standing before her. "It appears you failed to recover what I had ordered, my apprentice," he said without emotion. Somehow, Amalgama could feel the pent-up rage within Gannon's being, bubbling silently in his soul until he was ready to unleash it upon her. No words would save her, no excuses would lessen the retribution that was to come, no plea she could offer that could sway his convictions and cause him to relent in his aggression. Ultimately, she had learned, there was no way to dissuade her master's wrath.
But she could still try.
"Master," she began through pained grunts, her brain fit to burst from her skull as the very act of speaking plunged even further the white-hot pain into her mind. "I was overpowered. A Mandalorian woman. Force-sensitive. Adeptly so-"
"I did not ask for excuses!" the Sith lord thundered, causing his apprentice to recoil in pain and terror. His hands tensed, and he seethed, breathing deeply behind the horned helmet that masked his visage. She didn't need to see his face in order to get a sense for his fury; she felt it well enough with her own power. "I apologize, my master," she said, defeated.
Gannon merely raised a hand, palm facing the woman before him. Slowly, he turned his hand inward, clenching his fingers as his mind concentrated on his apprentice. She could feel the pressure in her throat, seeking to crush her windpipe. She struggled for breath, but there was no intake, and squirmed, kicking her feet in some vain attempt to be free of an attacker that wasn't truly there. Willing her own power to break her free of the Force-endowed choke hold proved just as fruitless. The tears swelled in her eyes, the conflagration in her mind spiking to levels that would be intolerable for a lesser mortal. Nevertheless, she was prepared to die.
No matter how unwilling.
However, her master saw fit to release her from his invisible iron grip, enabling her to take deep gasps of salvation, filling her lungs as much as she desired, thankful that her master had chosen to spare her life. He turned his back to her as she placed a hand at the base of her neck, her breaths heavy and rasping. "Do not fail me again," he said dryly, leaving her to recover from the ordeal of near-death.