[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

@Venn_Dras- I've never seen companion customization/the rakghoul plague dealt with like that before, either, and I love it! It will throw such a monkey wrench in the F!Smug/Corso romance and probably add another layer to their interactions with the rest of the story characters as well. Good job. Also, welcome! Looking forward to seeing more from you

 

Title: The Search I

Prompt: Loyalty and Betrayal

Characters: Jygal Harkness (non-story Agent), Eyrie Lancaster (Jedi Knight)

Length: 750 words

Spoilers: Jedi Knight end act II

 

Index under Eyrie, after Failure

 

 

Jygal Harkness drummed his fingers on his desk as he inspected his mission report. He wasn’t sure how this one would be received, and that made him uncomfortable. After a typical assignment, he had an exact idea of the results, what had gone right and what he was going to have to explain to his superiors. He knew just what to expect when he hit the “submit” button.

 

But this time, he wasn’t even sure himself how he felt about his last mission. They had put down the insurrection, that much was certain. The region in question was subdued, with the rebellious elements killed or brought back for interrogation and the rest of the population back to business as usual, albeit with heavy Imperial supervision. On that level, it had been a complete success.

 

On the other hand… The mission had been the last known sighting of Eyrie Lancaster. The captured Jedi had been one of the Emperor’s favorite playthings over the last month or two, at least that he knew about. She’d been helping suppress the rebellions in the region and he had somehow become her unofficial handler, in charge of managing her homicidal rages and occasional bouts of lucidity.

 

If he was being honest in his report, he would have said it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d always been of the opinion that Sith were probably more frightening than Jedi, and his extensive experience with the former and limited with the latter had supported that view. But he’d refined that theory a bit since then. Apparently the Jedi just pushed all their anger down into the core of their mind to fester unnoticed.

 

Not that he could fault them for that. He did something similar with every thought that Intelligence would deem unacceptable, letting them sit to process when- if- he retired. But that didn’t make it less dangerous to work with a Jedi who’d suddenly had all her mental barriers removed, leaving her free to unleash whatever she felt at the time. And what this Jedi had apparently felt was a lot of pain and anger and alienation. He may not have been able to use the Force himself, but he could still feel it tear through the area around him. Maybe something from Bryyn had worn off on him, or maybe she was just projecting it that strongly.

 

Which made it all the more shocking when, one day, it had all disappeared. They’d just returned with a team from a raid on one of the rebel cells, exhausted and filthy, although only minorly wounded. Jedi Lancaster’s armor was spattered in the blood of half a dozen of her kills, made using a piece of rebar when she’d lost track of her lightsabers, and she was breathing hard. He’d just starting trying to convince her back into her quarters, where they’d learned to just lock the door until they needed her again, when she’d frozen.

 

For handful of heartbeats, they had both stood in complete silence, not even breathing. Then, almost too quiet for him to hear, she’d spoken with a voice he didn’t recognize, low and cracked. “Where am I? What’s going on? What’s all this blood?”

 

He’d gaped at her before stuttering out some sort of explanation and she’d just stared. He had more difficulty reading her expressions than some others, something about not having eyes to track the movements of, but even the dullest Gamorian could have seen the horror written across her face.

 

She wobbled, and he’d stepped in to keep her upright. No sense in having her out of commission for a week because she’d concussed herself falling over. She’d clung to his hand for a minute, drawing staggering breaths that were just short of sobs, before the façade had come back up. Force-shoving him out of the way, she’d stormed back into her room and slammed the door hard enough to make the wall shake.

 

Other incidents like the first one had followed, some nearly an hour long, others just a few seconds. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that this wasn’t just a strange moment of regret or longing. The Jedi was being controlled and trying to fight it. Maybe that’s why she’d disappeared.

 

Forbidden thoughts rushed up in his mind and he tamped them down. He’d figure it out later. For now, he’d have to figure out how to spin this to Intelligence.

 

 

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

Thanks for the kind words, guys, I had a rather lovely Christmas with my family.

 

@MishaCantu- Yeah, I'm not a party person, either. The outcome will be seen in the next few posts, so stay tuned!

 

@Lunafox- I unfortunately cannot take credit for that line, which was a slightly-modified shoutout to The Count of Monte Cristo (or at least my translation of it), which I was reading at the time I composed the post

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

Merry Christmas, and have another chapter!

 

Part 83: The Party, part the second

 

 

After a moment, Zash realizes I’m behind her and takes the drink without a word before waving me off. I suppose I’m supposed to go mingle. Make small talk. Charm. All the things I’m no good at.

 

Maybe I should go get a drink. I’m still not a fan of alcohol, apart from the spiced wine Zash sometimes has served with dinner on chilly nights, but having something in my hand might give me a little confidence. I just can’t drink too much. Wouldn’t want to loosen my tongue even the slightest bit.

 

The bartender, Kimmi, I suppose, is serving someone else when I arrive, but I wait my turn patiently. He flashes a smile when I approach. “Knew you’d be back soon. What can I do for you?”

 

“I’d like a drink. And what did I say about being so casual? This is not some bar in the east end. This is a Sith party. There are people here who will kill you if you look them in the eye.”

 

“Fine, if you’re so uptight about it. What do you want?” I don’t know why I bother sometimes.

 

“I told you, a drink. Pick something.” Perhaps giving him free reign over my drink selection isn’t the best option after I’ve annoyed him, but I don’t know nearly enough about mixed drinks to pick something and drinking something disgusting is better than looking stupid.

 

When he hands me my drink, I instantly regret that sentiment. Whatever it is in in a wide-mouthed glass, but that’s where the similarities to any drink I’ve ever seen before end. The stuff is a solid white color and thicker than most alcohol. Weird multicolored flecks float in it. I take a sip before I walk away, keeping a perfectly straight face. The thing is sticky sweet and doesn’t really taste like much of anything except sugar. At least it doesn’t seem to have much alcohol in it.

 

If Kimmi is disappointed by my lack of reaction, he doesn’t show it. Wandering through the living room, I search for a place to stand out of the way and observe. It’s getting crowded in here and all I really want to do is try to pick up whatever information I can.

 

A corner that doesn’t seem to have picked up anyone presents itself and I hurry over to it, careful not to trip over the hem of my dress or step on anyone’s toes. There, I focus inward for a moment, wrapping the Force around my body to make myself a little less obtrusive, more a part of the décor. It’s not something I’ve attempted before, but if I can disappear completely, becoming unnoticed should be possible, shouldn’t it? And if it doesn’t work, it won’t be obvious that I tried.

 

Whether it does or not, before a minute is out, a pair of older Sith women, a Pureblood and a human, approach my corner. The Pureblood is smiling grimly, but the human looks angry. “I’m going to kill him,” she growls.

 

“Do that, and you’ll just bring out the lightsabers,” replies her companion. They’re both dressed similarly, in off-the-shoulder dresses that cling to their frames, although the Pureblood’s is green with an elaborately tied sash and copious gold trim, while the human’s is an unadorned red. They don’t seem to have noticed me at all, so I force myself to gradually fade out of sight altogether. Too fast will just startle them, but I don’t want to chance their looking over at me while they’re discussing something interesting.

 

“So what do you suggest I do?”

 

“Wait a bit. Decapitation kills instantly, but indigestion takes a few hours to manifest.”

 

The human bites her lip and shoves a bit of dark hair out of her face. “But I don’t know what he’s allergic to.”

 

Smiling, the Pureblood pats her bosom. “The Force is with you today, my friend.”

 

“You mean-“ The human reaches out her hand, but the Pureblood pushes it away gently.

 

Turning towards me and away from the rest of the party, she fishes a small glass tube out of her dress, filled halfway with clear liquid and capped with a plug. “Patience. Wait until dinner. But you’ll owe me for this.”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.” The human practically snatches the vial from her hand and I can feel the anger radiating from her. The woman is a loose cannon, and based on what I’ve seen so far, someone to stay as far away from as possible.

 

“You’d better. And don’t use too much. This stuff is difficult to find.” The Pureblood spins on her heel and mixes into the crowd, one more sparkly dress in a sea of them.

 

As she leaves, the human brushes her hair back from her face again, and if I had been even the slightest bit distracted, I would have missed her sliding the poison container into the knot of hair at the back of her head. A cruel smile spreads across her face, and she remains in the corner primping for a moment before sliding after her friend.

 

I release the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and let my invisibility fade. This is an interesting turn of events. Should I tell Zash, or let events play out on their own? The former presents opportunity to gain favor with my master. I may not be in particularly short supply of it right now, but that can change in an instant and I need as much as I can get. On the other hand, the fewer Sith in the galaxy, the better, and if one can be eliminated without my having to do anything… add to that the fact that someone as angry as the would-be assassin seems to be will likely be caught and probably will give up her accomplice out of pure spite, and we can potentially get rid of three scars on the face of the universe tonight.

 

Perhaps I should figure out who their planned victim is before making a decision, though. I can always tell Zash later if I so choose.

 

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

@ Misha and Striges- Thank you! I'm glad the idea worked for you

 

@ Frauzet- I do that too, which is what gave me the idea in the first place. And you've hit the core of Eyrie's personal problems right on the head. Rather than try to deal with her emotions in a healthy way, so they don't affect those around her overly much, she just pretends they don't exist and lets them fester away instead.

 

 

Title: Getting the Gang Together

Prompt: First Day on the Job

Characters: Ketturah Attridies (Bounty Hunter), Mako

Length: 800 words

Spoilers: Bounty Hunter first cutscene, nothing else

 

Index after the I Work Alone saga

 

 

Ketturah slung her pack over her shoulder and looked around the spaceport. Hutta was probably the most disgusting place she’d ever been, and that was saying something. A layer of thick, yellowish mud coated the floors and part of the walls, and reminded her uncomfortably of crap smeared on her boots. Even with shorts on she was sweating and the humidity made her hair feel like she hadn’t showered in days, even though she’d washed it this morning.

 

She checked the directions on her datapad one last time before stowing it in her backpack. Better not carry anything valuable looking through this place, even if it was as beat-up and outdated as her datapad. Most of the patrons looked like they’d kill you for the change in your pocket, so better not to tempt them with something they might actually be able to sell for enough to buy some spice.

 

As she wound her way through the hallways- rather crowded for what she assumed was a normal day here- most of the other beings passed her without a second glance. There was a pretty large number of Gamorrians here, she noticed, as well as Evocii. She vaguely remembered hearing something about them being native here, so it made sense if they were.

 

Outside was even more mud, combined with a sky the color of puke and what was probably the worst thing she’d smelled in a while. Ketturah clenched her teeth and fought the urge to gag. They’d said Hutta stank, but there was no prepping for this. Hopefully the cantina she was meeting Braden in was air-filtered, but she wasn’t getting her hopes up.

 

It turned out to be a good thing she hadn’t. If possible, the Poison Pit smelled even worse than outside, because now it added the scent of sweaty unwashed bodies to the general stink. Grizzled workmen with sagging shoulders and low-level Hutt enforcers crowded around the tables. She was pretty thirsty herself, but she knew better than to trust the alcohol here. She’d be lucky if all they cut it with was water.

 

The bartender ran his eyes up and down her body as she approached, but she ignored him. She wasn’t particularly attractive by most people’s standards, but it was enough for some men, and a few women as well. Didn’t mean much unless they actually tried anything, and the pistols at her hips were usually enough to prevent that.

 

“I’m here to see Braden,” she said, keeping her tone as businesslike as possible.

 

“He’s in the back. Straight down the hall and to your right. Just don’t mess with anything back there.” He paused, like he was considering adding a threat to the statement, but apparently decided his displeasure would suffice and went back to mixing drinks.

 

Ketturah followed his instructions, guessing that the back was probably through the doorway closest to the wall he’d gestured at. Boxes were piled in the hallway, and she slid one blaster out of its holster as she crept towards the door. If Braden or anyone else wanted to ambush her, there were a million ways to do it that were less convoluted and quicker and easier to pull off, but she hadn’t lived as long as she had by being dumb.

 

But nothing jumped out at her as she made her way down to the first door on the right and knocked. For a moment, nothing happened except what sounded like someone scrabbling around inside, then the door was opened by a girl. She was about Ketturah’s own height and probably a few years younger, with short, dark, slightly spiky hair and smooth mid-brown skin, unmarked except for a discreet cybernetic implant. Flashing a quick smile, she turned back toward the rest of the room and called “Braden, she’s here!”

 

“Come in,” shouted a familiar voice from further inside. Ketturah obeyed, letting her weapon hand drop to her side but keeping the blaster out of its holster in case she was still wrong about all of this.

 

Braden turned from a desk as she entered and nodded to acknowledge her. The girl hurried back to a bank of computers that had been set up on a folding table in one corner, and a Nikto in a blast vest looked up from the sniper rifle he was cleaning. It didn’t seem to be much of an operation they had going here, furniture made out of empty liquor boxes and power cable extensions snaking all over the place. A couple of cots had been stacked in one corner.

 

“Hello. Welcome to Hutta. Sorry ‘bout the smell. You get used to it after a while, but there’s only so much you can do. This is Ketturah, everyone. She’s the hunter who’s going to get us all through the Great Hunt.”

 

The girl and the Nikto smiled, and Ketturah returned their looks with a grin. “Let’s get to work.”

 

 

 

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

@ MishaCantu- Yeah, I tend not to enjoy shopping, although I like the results. Why can't I just find the thing I want, buy it, and get out of there, lol?

 

@Frauzet- Exactly the problem she was running into. Not helped by the fact that she's an unusual size and has fairly unusual (for a human) coloring.

 

I must appologize, as there was really no good place to cut today's post off, so I just went with making it more-or-less the same length as the rest of the chapters and I'll pick it up later.

 

Part 82: The Party, Part the First

 

 

As the party approaches, Zash keeps me busy running every which way to make last minute preparations. The servants are equally frantic in the kitchen and my master hurries from room to room straightening knickknacks, removing papers, and ensuring that every centimeter of the house is polished to a spit shine.

 

Finally, she checks the wall chrono one last time and waves for me to go get ready as she scampers off to do so herself. I hurry up the stairs.

 

The dress is laying draped across the bed where it’s been since earlier this afternoon. True to their word, the shop finished it in plenty of time and the granddaughter dropped it off personally in a plain, light grey box. I shower quickly and change into the sumptuous outfit, which is fortunate, as it takes me almost an hour and half a dozen holonet tutorials to figure out how to arrange my hair and do my makeup to what I believe will be Zash’s satisfaction. My efforts with the former have been limited to tied back, braided, or loose, and the later I’ve never worn at all.

 

With only a few minutes left until the guests are due to arrive, I slide into my shoes and step back to inspect myself. My dress is dark grey, just a bit lighter than black, with a fitted bodice that flares a bit into a skirt full of layers of soft fabric that cling just slightly to my frame. The sleevelessness problem was solved by adding a fitted overbodice of a nearly-opaque sepisilk embroidered in silver with crystal beading. It covers everything and looks quite nice. I left my hair loose, but curled it a bit to give some loose ringlets and after three tries, managed to enhance the dark shadows around my eyes and bring some color to my cheeks, so it looks like I’m in the clutches of the dark side. A pair of plain slippers- however nice a little extra height would be, I don’t trust myself in heels- and nails polished in deep emerald green finish it off.

 

I hope I’m not overdressed. Better to over- than under-do it, I suppose, but I doubt Zash will forgive my showing her up in any way.

 

I needn’t have worried. Her dress has a fairly standard bodice- strapless with just a little bit of shaping to emphasize her bust- but that’s where conservative ends. The front hem is halfway up her thighs, showing off her long legs that gleam with what I’m assuming is some sort of spray to make them shimmer gold, while the back drags in a short train and her heels are probably adding almost ten centimeters to her height. To top it all off, the entire thing is done in an intense shade of pink and trimmed with copious amounts of black lace. It certainly delivers a statement, but it’s not one I’d want to make.

 

She eyes me up and down, then nods. “You’ll do. Where is you monster?”

 

“Upstairs.” Imagining Khem Val making small talk is laughable, and I don’t think any of the Sith in attendance would appreciate a hulking Dashade looming over their appetizers.

 

“Excellent. And he won’t cause any trouble?”

 

“No, master.”

 

She nods again, a short, clipped movement that tells me she’ll give it no more thought tonight, and moves over to inspect my outfit more closely. “A pair of earrings would improve this outfit tremendously. You didn’t think to buy any?”

 

I shake my head. I don’t have any piercings, nor the desire to obtain any. She continues, running her fingers through my hair and tilting my face to inspect my makeup. “You should do your hair like this more often. It brings out your unique coloration. It minimizes your facial scarring as well.”

 

Fighting the urge to pull out of her grasp, I endure the inspection, along with the accompanying tightness in my throat and twisting of my stomach. Fortunately, it’s cut short by a ring of the doorbell, followed a few seconds later by the male servant announcing that a Lord Krenndel has arrived.

 

Zash instantly lets go of my chin and straightens up, gliding forward to receive her guest. “Lord Krenndel,” I hear her coo. “I’m delighted you could make it tonight.”

 

I follow at a slower pace. She probably wants me to shadow her like the dutiful apprentice I am, at least until she’s finished greeting her guests. Lord Krenndel turns out to be a short, balding man in a set of black formal robes that do little to disguise his pudginess. He shakes Zash’s hand enthusiastically and turns to me. “And who is this?” he says with a bit of a twinkle in his eye, like the doting grandfather I’m sure he isn’t.

 

Zash smiles and places her hand on my shoulder. “This is Kiarn, Krenndel. Surely you remember me telling you about her?” I duck my head in deference.

 

“But of course. So is she the one who-“

 

“Kiarn, bring me something to drink.” I obey instantly. She’s bound to be on edge tonight and if it was something serious enough to cut a rival off in the middle of his sentence, she’ll be seriously upset if she even suspects that I overhead. Still, I try to keep my ears open as I make my way over to the bar.

 

A young man I don’t recognize is pouring drinks, around my age, fairly slim and dark haired. He smiles at me as I approach. “What can I get you?”

 

“Something for her.” I gesture over my shoulder towards where Zash is still whispering to Lord Krenndel.

 

“Does she have a preference?” I shake my head. If she knows what she wants, she didn’t tell me. “I’ll make her something special, then.” He pulls several bottles from below the counter and starts splashing the contents into a thin glass. “You must be her apprentice, then? Nice to meet you. I’m Kimmi.”

 

“Kiarn. And if I were you, I wouldn’t speak so familiarly to the next Sith you encounter.” It’s going to get him killed if he’s not careful. I’m not sure how Zash even ended up hiring a Force-blind who seems so casual around her, but maybe it was a service. Or he’s just really, really good at his job.

 

“Oh. Sorry, Lord.” He looks a bit taken aback and finishes mixing in silence before handing me Zash’s drink. It’s off-white and slightly cloudy, with a harsh scent and a sprig of some sort of herb stuck into it. Hopefully she likes it.

By now, several more lords have arrived and she’s moved on to talk to someone else, this one an older human man with white hair. I approach quietly and stand just to her left, waiting to be noticed.

 

 

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

Thanks for the kind words, everyone!

 

Today's story is a continuation of Distress Call and Failure

 

Title: Insomnia

Prompt: As Time Goes By

Characters: Eyrie Lancaster (Jedi Knight), Feyte Saien (Jedi Consular) and Kira Carson mentioned

Length: 1,100 words

Spoilers: References to Jedi Knight Act II finale and previous

 

Index latest of all Eyrie stories so far

 

 

The Shining Path was quiet, nothing but the low thrumming of the engines and gentle breathing of the other beings on it to disturb the peace. Eyrie’s body ached with tension and shook with exhaustion.

 

So why couldn’t she sleep?

 

She touched the end of her braid. It came down to near the bottom of her chest now, a tightly woven rope of hair that swung when she walked and gave her head a satisfying sense of momentum when she snapped it around in training. Although she couldn’t see it herself, Feyte assured her that it was a plain durasteel grey, shot through with darker strands and now a few white hairs. The taint of what she’d let the Emperor do through her would linger on her soul forever, but now it showed on her body as well.

 

She curled up into a ball again, taking deep breaths and practicing the muscle relaxing exercises Master Orgus had taught her. Master Orgus…

 

When she’d met him, she hadn’t had a braid at all, just a little thatch of hair that she could comb with her fingers. Practical and much better for an academy student who always spent her time working. Besides, it kept it out of her why while she sparred and ran and stretched. She’d been naive, then, hoping that the mysterious Jedi master would take her and train her, finally. Then she could be the hero she’d known she could be, even if no one else did.

 

This was no good. The hot air under the blankets was suffocating her and the sheets wrapped around her legs like the tentacles of some giant sea monster trying to pull her into the abyss. She sat up and wormed her way free of them, the air cold on her body clad only in her undergarments.

 

She didn’t remember why she’d first decided to grow her hair out, only that it was while she was on Coruscant. She’d already been working on trying to get a strand of it long enough for a proper padawan braid, so perhaps it had been related to that. In any case, she remembered it being long enough for her to gather a chunk in her fist as Master Kiwiks suggested they take Kira along with them and she felt her stomach churn in excitement and nervousness.

 

They’d had a good run around the galaxy together, though, she thought. The human girl was driven and competent, if a bit fiery, and even if she’d been uncomfortable at first, Eyrie had learned to enjoy having her at her side. The day her hair had brushed her shoulders, the other girl had helped her to braid it, making intricate overlapping twists down the back of her head to keep any strands from escaping. She’d been more confidant by that point, sure that she was on the way to doing the right thing.

 

Eyrie shivered. The cold was starting to seep into her, but she didn’t want to lie back down yet. Instead, she slid down onto the floor, the chill of the floor soaking into her feet, and padded out of the bedroom and into the main living area. Curling up on the couch, she wrapped one of the fuzzy blankets around herself and leaned her head against the padded back.

 

When she’d gone off to fight the Emperor, so full of foolish confidence, her braid had been almost as long as it was now. She remembered it coming undone as she fought her way through the space station, stopping to tie it back again before she stepped into the chamber where her foe waited.

 

Other memories came, unasked for. The touch of his hand on the top of her head, feeling herself slipping away to watch helplessly as her body moved against her will. Taking out her entire life’s store of anger on whatever she could find- droids, furniture, living beings- as the walls she’d build around her emotions crumbled. Tangled strings of hair hanging in front of her face as she hacked her way through the Emperor’s enemies on some unknown and unremembered planet.

 

Eyrie stood again and walked to the bathroom, blanket flaring around her like a cloak. Grabbing a razor- she had no idea whose it was, but it was sharp and that’s what mattered- she held it to her head. Maybe if she could get rid of all this hair, she could erase everything that had happened while she was growing it.

 

Another memory floated up, something she had nearly forgotten. She stood, clad in armor with sabers in her hands, in the smoking remains of some place she’d just helped obliterate. Town, military base, children’s playground, she didn’t remember. A man stood next to her, a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder and his cybernetic implants a faint buzz in his Force-sense. Her body was drenched in sweat and exhaustion made it easier for her real self to pull itself to the surface.

 

“How many dead?” Her voice quavered.

 

The man registered a flicker of surprise in the Force, but only for a moment before it shut down behind a blank wall. “Do you really want to know?” he said wearily.

 

“Tell me.”

 

“Four hundred and twenty-three was the last known population, although some might have escaped before we got here. We took one hundred and six prisoners.”

 

She nodded, numb. So many… Her fault…

 

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen to me. Don’t give up. You have to hang on until you can find a way to keep from losing yourself.” His voice dropped a bit more. “I can try to help, but this is something you have to figure out on your own.”

 

She nodded, trying to pull herself out of the fog of regret that clouded her mind. Her control was slipping...

 

“Hands off me!” she snapped, slapping his hand away. “We’ve got work to do.”

 

Eyrie set the razor down on the counter. Her hands were shaking so badly that it fell to the floor with a clatter that she was sure would wake the entire ship. She had to keep the hair. It was a part of her now, just like everything that had happened while it grew. She’d find a way to live with it.

 

 

 

Note:

 

 

This story serves three purposes in my mind. First, it's the next step in my quest to use every one of the SFWC prompts. Second, it justifies in-story my desire to potentially change Eyrie's hairstyle to the long braided one (jury's still out on that one)

 

And finally, I wanted an interesting and unique way to measure the passage of time, and growing your hari out seemed like a good way to do it.

 

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

You guys will have to forgive me for this chapter, which is pretty self-indulgent.

 

Part 81: The Perfect Dress

 

 

Erilinn lets his hand fall back to his side and nods slowly. “Alright. I’m sorry for bringing you all the way out here for no reason.” He gestures back towards Khem and the road. “I’d offer to call a speeder for you, but I’m fairly certain it would just tip off anyone who might be watching that something strange was going on.”

 

“It’s fine. A little more rain won’t hurt me.” I’m already wet to the skin; it can’t possibly get much worse. Returning to clearing we initially stopped in, I wave for Khem to follow me and start back for Kaas City.

 

A creature that I can’t identify attacks us on the way back, but my skills have grown since the last time I was here and we fend it off without too much difficulty. The guards at the gate let us in without question. Amazing what six months and the right outfit can do.

 

I debate returning to Zash’s to change clothes before shopping, but decide it’s not worth the effort. Besides, if she’d there then she might start wondering where I’ve been and why I don’t have a dress yet. So instead I send Khem home with instructions to hang out in my room until I get back and not to tell anyone about my meeting with Erilinn. He obeys with only slight grumbling.

 

Now to find a store that will have an outfit in my size and budget and not unbearably hideous. I check the credit chip Zash gave me. It’s a surprisingly large amount, almost as much as she gave me to buy clothes when I first moved in with her. Which at least takes care of budget. She must really care how I look tonight. Which, I suppose, means I should at least give a thought to how she might want me to present myself.

 

It would help if I knew how formal this party was supposed to be. Is this an “evening gowns and long gloves” event, or “the same as normal, but a little flashier”. I could call her to check, but it seems like the kind of question that would just annoy her. I wander into the first dress shop I find, hoping that walking around a bit will give me some clues.

 

The place is a black, red, and grey forest, filled with shimmering satins, glowing velvets, and sharp flashes of crystal beading. An attendant moves toward me as I enter. “May I help you, Lord?” he says.

 

“I need a dress.” Well done, Kiarn. It’s not like this is a dress shop or anything.

 

“May I inquire as to the occasion?”

 

“A house party.”

 

He hmmms and looks me up and down briefly. “I can find what we have in stock, or if you have something specific in mind, I can offer our services as a tailor.”

 

“Off-the-rack is fine.” Even if I have the budget for something custom, which I doubt, they wouldn’t be able to have it ready in a few hours.

 

The attendant nods excitedly and disappears into the sea of hangers with a “By your leave.” I wait. It’s a little different, being waited on in stores. I’m more accustomed to the kind of deference people pay Sith now, but I get the feeling that they would offer similar service to anyone who walked in and looked like they could pay, although perhaps not quite so obsequiously.

 

When he returns, he’s carrying an armful of variously colored fabric. “If something doesn’t fit exactly, we would be happy to alter it for you while you wait or have it shipped to any address you desire in time for your event. If you would step this way, please?”

 

I follow, examining the shop as I do. It looks like any store, nothing more dangerous than an occasional rogue end of a rack that could hurt me, but it never pays to be cautious. A door in the back leads to a trio of small rooms, each furnished with a small bench, hooks along the wall, and a large, floor-length mirror.

 

“Would you like me to assist you with your clothes?”

 

“Absolutely not.” Even the thought of someone else seeing my naked body makes my skin crawl. I enter one of the rooms and shut the door, taking the pile of dresses from the man. Stripping off my clothes, I slide into the first dress and, with a little assistance from the Force, manage to get it fastened up.

 

It would be pretty enough on someone else, I suppose, but I haven’t even gotten it all the way on before I know it’s not what I’m looking for. The long purple skirt brushes the floor nicely, but my nonexistent chest can’t holt up the crystal-studded bodice and my shoulders feel bare and exposed. I can see the thin white lines of scars crisscrossing and stretching up my neck to match the one on my face. I don’t object to people knowing I have them, per say, but having the flesh out there makes me feel exposed, vulnerable. I discard the dress and try another.

 

The next option is green, and fortunately has long sleeves. A bit lower cut than I’d like, but I could ask them to alter it… But no, with it on I look silly, like someone going to a costume party or a little girl, not a powerful Sith. The short, strapless, pink-and-white thing with ridiculous detached sleeves I don’t even bother to try on and the flowing pink princess dress with the blue corseted waist is hopelessly too large. The last, a structured, wide-skirted grey thing with a matching choker and long gloves, is beautiful, but I still don’t want to go without sleeves.

 

I change back into my own clothes- which are still wet but at least slightly warmer now that I’ve been inside for a while- and leave. The next shop is similar to the first and has a red and gold bustled dress that I like, but the lock-and-key theme that seems to be predominating reminds me too uncomfortable of my past. The point is not to make people always think “slave” when they see me. More shops, more dresses, until they all blur together. Short and long, black and white, revealing and covering.

 

Finally, with time running out, I end up in a place on the far side of Kaas City, small and tucked away enough that I never would have found it without a holonet search. The owners are a tiny, shriveled twi’lek woman and a younger copy of herself that I’m assuming is her granddaughter. The older woman’s face bears the carefully carved scarring that marks her as belonging to one of the major Sith houses, but her granddaughter is unmarked. They must have bought their freedom at some point, or perhaps been released for excellent service, but I know better than to ask. Once you leave something like that, you never want to go back, even in your mind.

 

The granddaughter greets cheerily me as I enter the shop. “Can I help you, my lord?”

 

I again explain my need and she turns to her grandmother to say something in a language I don’t recognize. The younger one turns back to me and says “We have a few things that might work. Would you like to come take a look?”

 

Following her towards the back, I watch as she pulls out a trio of outfits. The first, an unadorned off-the-shoulder gown in pale grey strikes me as a little too formal, but at least pretty. The second is a flimsy mid-blue thing that I try on but hangs off my frame extraordinarily unflatteringly. The granddaughter holds out the final outfit and I step into the changing room unenthusiastically. My body is starting to ache from so much contorting into and out of outfits and I’ve long since passed the annoyance threshold and will probably start throwing lightning pretty soon.

 

I slide into the dress and get it zipped up. It would be perfect, except for the neckline… Emerging from my changing room cocoon, I explain what I want to happen and the elderly twi’lek nods enthusiastically, chattering to her granddaughter.

 

Satisfied, I change back into my normal outfit and catch a taxi back to Zash’s, feeling absurdly satisfied with myself.

 

 

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

Hi!

 

This is another story that I'm not super happy with, what I have in my head is much better than what made it out on teh paper. But I don't hate it and it was ready to post, so here ya'll go!

 

Title: Reunion

Prompt: I Love this Bar!

Characters: Ketturah Atridies (Bounty Hunter), Mallena Dayne (Trooper)

Length: 1,400 words

Spoilers: References to Bounty Hunter Nar Shadda

 

Index latest of all Ketturah stories so far

 

 

Ketturah lounged on the bench, watching the brightly-dressed collection of beings making their way past the promenade while she finished her cig. All of them ignored her and most of them ignored the giant Hutt statue too. That statue was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen, even uglier than some of the other great hunt contestants, not to mention being a colossal waste of credits. Which was the entire point, of course.

 

Someone shouted on the upper level and she looked up. Nope, nothing she could see from here. And since it wasn’t likely to be The Eidalon- who wouldn’t have gotten on the Great Hunt hit list if he was stupid enough to get mixed up in street brawls- or Mako- who as far as she knew was still back at their home base with Annuli- she didn’t particularly care.

 

A trio of armored Pub troopers wandered past her and she reflexively avoided looking at them. They didn’t seem like they were paying much attention, anyway, talking and laughing. The Cathar had said something that made one of the two blond women with him laugh and the other one frown to disguise her amusement.

 

Wait a minute. She knew that laugh.

 

Ketturah’s head snapped up. Tall, with that runner’s build she’d always envied, thick blond hair piled on top of her head… It couldn’t be. Could it? “Mallena!” she shouted, jumping to her feet.

 

All three of the troopers’ head snapped toward her and stared. After an instant, Mallena’s face lit up and she ran towards Ketturah with a shout.

 

They collided halfway with an impact that made Ketturah gasp. Wrapping her arms around her friend’s waist, she hugged her tight. Finally, they pulled apart, laughing. “You, you got a tattoo!” blurted Mallena.

 

Ketturah touched her face reflexively. “Yeah. Your scar is new, too.” What a stupid thing to say. “What are you doing here? I mean, I guess you joined the army like you always talked about.” She was wearing some pretty sweet armor, shiny white with hand-done green trim and probably good duraplast plates.

 

The other girl nodded. “Special forces, even. It’s pretty good. What about you? I looked for so long…”

 

“Yeah… I had to get out of there. I’ve been in Empire and Hutt Space mostly, laying low, trying to make some cash. Are they your squad?”

 

Mallena looked back at the Cathar and human who were watching them with curious expressions. “Yep. Here, I’ll introduce you.” Taking her by the arm, she pulled her towards them, pointing first to the Cathar and then the human. “This is Sgt. Jorgan and Sgt. Dorne. Guys, this is Ketturah. She was my best friend when we were young.”

 

The other two nodded, looking a bit less curious. “Nice to meet you,” the Cathar said. The woman just nodded.

 

“Are you busy?” It would be stupid to meet like this and not have time to catch up.

 

Mallena shook her head. “We just finished up here, so I’ve got all night.”

 

“Come have a drink with me. Or dinner if you don’t drink. Anything’s fine, but we have to catch up.”

 

“Of course! Did you have anywhere in mind?”

 

“Follow me.” Mallena was probably still as much of a goody-goody as she’d been when they were kids, so she’d have to find a decent place. Not to mention that showing up to a lot of the usual dives with a ‘pub in tow was a good way to get thrown out on your ***.

 

“OK.” The taller girl kept her arm wrapped around Ketturah’s shoulder as they headed off, like she was afraid to lose her. “I’ll be back later,” she said to her squad. “Com me if anything major comes up.”

 

“Yes, sir,” replied the blond and Ketturah blinked. That was definitely an Imperial accent. Something to ask about as soon as they were gone.

 

Winding her way through the crowd, she led Mallena to one of the places she vaguely remembered as being reasonably Republic-friendly and not too grimy. Cramming into one of the booths, they waited for the waitress- a Mirialan not much older than they were wearing an apron printed with her name and a stylus tucked behind her ear. “What can I get you today?” she said.

 

“Akdov with Adro-boost.” The stuff was pretty much pure caffeine, but it made a pretty good mixer. “And one of whatever she wants on me.”

 

The waitress managed to hold off a disgusted look and smile almost pleasantly. “Of course. And you?”

 

Mallena looked at Ketturah, and for a moment she wondered if the other girl had even tried drinking before. She was probably only just getting to legal drinking age in the Republic, and it wouldn’t surprise her if she followed the law, even if pretty much everyone else she’d ever known hadn’t. But then she appeared to come to a decision and nodded quickly. “I’ll have a beer, any brand is good but darker is better.”

 

The waitress nodded again, this time seeming a little more approving, and hurried off to get their orders. “So how have you been?” Mallena said. “Give me all the details.”

 

“I’ve been fine. Just working, trying to stay ahead of the bills, you know.” Suddenly, she felt ashamed. Bounty hunting was a decent enough profession, it’s not like she’d been running drugs or something, but some of the stuff she’d done to get by… “What about you? How’s your family?”

 

“They’re doing all right. Hartsin’s at fleet officer school and Soreth and Aron are still with Mom and Dad. Last time I talked to Carian, he was pulling night-shift guard duty on some dead backwater outpost. Gives him plenty of time to relax, though. He mentioned something about a girl in town, but I’m not sure if it ever panned out.”

 

Ketturah laughed. “Carian, dating someone? Yeah, right.”

 

“Eh, he’s not as bad as he used to be. But yeah, that’s about all that’s new with them. Dad’s been off active duty for years now, but he still works at the base there in town and Mom’s started back doing a little bit of time in the infirmary too, now that the younger boys are old enough to hang out by themselves after school.”

 

“And you?”

 

“Well, like I said, I joined up right after high school. Basic was insane, but not as bad as I’ve heard.” She laughed and shrugged. “Maybe just because I knew what to expect. Got stationed on Dantooine and hung out there for a few years before I got recommended for SF.”

 

“Wait a minute, when were you on Dantooine?” She’d been there, for the bounty where she’d met Cato. She wondered what had happened to him.

 

Mallena pursed her lips. “I think… three years ago?”

 

Ketturah’s jaw dropped. “I think I was there. I think I heard someone call your name!”

 

“Really? I wish I’d known.” The waitress brought their drinks and she took a drink of her beer. “I looked for you, you know. I kept reading your messages, looking thorough the holonet.”

 

“Yeah…” She’d tried to disappear and leave everything behind. Apparently it had worked.

 

“What happened?”

 

Ketturah shrugged. “I hopped a freighter and made it here before I ran out of money. Hung out for a while, then captured a guy with a price on his head kind of by accident. Made me realize that I could make a lot more money finding people than I could stealing stuff from corner stores, so I decided to make a career out of it.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?”

 

“It sounds like it was hard for you, and I’m sorry you had to go through that. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

 

“It was fine; it wasn’t your fault. And look, I’m here, right? Having adventures just like we always wanted. You know I wouldn’t have made it in the military, and this is so much better.”

 

Mallena nodded, but she could see in her eyes that she didn’t believe her. She wasn’t even sure if she believed it herself. “I’m fine, Lina, I promise. Sometime you’ll have to meet my partner, Mako. You’ll love her.”

 

The other girl smiled and nodded. “Sounds good. How about another drink, on me this time.”

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

Mallena and Ketturah's history together can be found here (second story)

 

Ketturah's first bounty was here

 

Dantooine and Cato was here

 

Note that some of these are the first of a multi-part story

 

[Getting to Know you!]

Hopefully back to posting (slightly) more frequently after a bit of an absence

 

What do you go by? Depending on the site, Mirdthestrill, Mird, CleverMird, Ashfire, and AshfireMage. And of course, I often answer to my rp characters' names while rping.

 

Male or Female: Female

 

How many trips around the Sun have you made: 20

 

Who is your favorite canon character/NPC/non-companion (Choose up to 5 cause some of us can't choose )

 

I know there are some, but I'm totally drawing a blank on names right now I guess Orgus Din is pretty awesome.

Which side do you play most? I think I'm about even.

 

Which classes do you play most? I've probably logged the most hours into my Jedi Sage (as my oldest char) and my Sith Inquisitor (as probably my favorite)

 

Favorite companions: In no particular order, Torian, Kira, Elara, Andronikos, and Corso

 

Least Favorite companions: I don't have Skadge yet, so I can't actually say him, but I'm not a fan of Gault (mostly because of how the game forces him on you, I might have at least given him a chance otherwise), Sgt. Rusk, or Bowdaar. Although I don't think I can say I truly hate any of them.

 

Favorite Love interest in game: I've only completely finished one of them (Iresso), but it was pretty sweet. And I loved Torian when I started him on an old BH.

Least Favorite Love interest in game: See above. I guess if I went anywhere, I'd say that I'd like to try Doc's romance on someone at some point, but I can't see Eyrie being interested in him.

 

Favorite original character to write: Kiran, hands down. If we're not counting PCs, I'm actually rather fond of Cato

 

Favorite canon character to write: Corso and Darth Zash

 

Least favorite canon character to write: I don't really "get" Gus or how to write for him, same with Satele Shan. And even though I like Vette as a character, I struggle with her perspective (Feldraeth, help me!). Maybe it's because Karanni's spent most of her time with her telling her to shut up and using her shock collar.

 

Favorite genre to write: Angst. Romance is fun, too and I have a ridiculous love of descriptions

 

Hardest scenes to write: I'm going to echo everyone who said fight scenes, as well as scenes where large amounts of information are supposed to be conveyed without much else going on

 

Who do you want to kill most from KotFE: Haven't actually started KotFE yet, so jury's still out

 

Favorite colour: Just to stick on things? A nice mellow green. To wear? Black, grey, and wine red. I also have a thing for hoods, long coats, and floor-length skirts, so maybe I should just become a Sith

 

Favorite star wars race: Miraluka

If you could only eat 5 foods for the rest of your life, what would you pick?

 

Salad (you can make a salad out of almost anything, so it's kind of cheating)

Fruit smoothies

Bagels

Chicken

Chocolate chip cookies (but only mom's homemade)

 

Not so much because these are my favorite things ever, but because I feel like it would result in a reasonably balanced diet with decent variety.

 

You can live anywhere you want in the galaxy, where do you live? Alderaan, obviously long pre-Death Star

 

Who would you like to see added as a companion? I wish that we could have gotten that Twi'lek guy the inquisitor meets at the academy when they're scouting Xalek. That, or taken on Zash's apprentices after she died.

 

And...what do you prefer, hero or villain? I'm gonna have to go with villain!

 

How much time have you spent playing SWTOR? Since a couple months after launch. I level very slowly

 

SWTOR Pet Peeves: Not being able to find a decent guild that stays together long enough is my biggest one

 

What do I do when I'm not playing or writing about SWTOR? Too much! (which is why I haven't been doing much of either lately). Schoolwork, mostly, as well as working, research, and my student org. If I have time after that, it's drawing, writing on my original projects, cooking, working on cosplay, Dungeons and Dragons, online rp, or anime. Wow, that was a mouthfull. Let's just leave it at "too much"

 

If I could choose another world to live in, what would it be? Narnia. I was eternally disappointed by not having a wardrobe in my house as a child. Also, I'd love to go to Rivendale.

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

I haven't died, I swear! (hey, look, that's exactly how I started my last post. Sorry )

 

@Mayham- that's always an option, and Karanni probably does on occasion, lol

 

@Frauzet- Thank you!

 

Part 80: The Explanation

 

 

I cross my arms over my chest. “Fill me in on what?” This is either going to be extraordinarily useful or a very nasty surprise.

 

He lets out his breath in what might be construed as a short laugh. “I suppose I am being a little overly cryptic, aren’t I? My apologies. What I brought you here to tell you is that I had more in mind than just the information-sharing arrangement that we’ve had going for the past few months.”

 

Immediately, warning lights start flashing in my mind. He wants something, and I’m not giving odds on the chances that I’m not going to like it. But before I can respond, he continues. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be surprised if I told you that like every other Sith in existence, I’ve been pulling strings and manipulating contacts since the day I was apprenticed, trying to build a power base to gather more influence.”

 

“Not in the slightest.” It’s what they do. Where is he going with this?

 

“But I’m not stupid enough to think that I can do it by myself. I’m helpless without support behind me and I can’t be everywhere and know everything. I may be more skilled with lightsaber combat that most, but I’m not afraid to admit that I have little raw talent with the Force, at least compared to many Sith.

 

“Taking an instructor position at the Academy so soon after becoming a Lord won me a bit of good will with some of the older Darths- my volunteering meant they wouldn’t be asked to fill the job themselves- but robbed me of the chance to get into the entourage of someone more powerful early on. Now I’m stuck in the position of being too well-established to be trusted, but not established enough to strike out on my own.”

 

“What about Thanaton?” He’s been working for him since just after I arrived on Dromund Kaas, surely he didn’t expect me to forget that?

 

“The Dark Council assigned me to Thanaton. He’s too smart to openly ignore their decision, but he suspects me of having an ulterior motive. Which, of course, I do.”

 

“Power?”

 

He nods, flashing me a pointy Pureblood smile. “Through it, I gain victory and all that. And I want you to join me, Kiarn.”

 

“What?” Is he offering me a place in his own personal empire or asking me on a date?

 

“It’s like I already said. I’m not going to trick myself into thinking I’m the most powerful Sith in the Empire by any stretch of the imagination. Neither are you. But if we trust each other, we’ll have that advantage over every other Sith I’ve ever met.”

 

“And what’s in it for me?” Surely he can’t think to convince me just on vague promises of as-yet-unavailable power.

 

“We both know that Zash is planning to chew you up and spit you out. When she tries, one of two things will happen. Either you’ll die, in which case all your problems will be over and this discussion is moot, or you’ll prevail. And if you do, you’ll inherit whatever you can salvage of her power and contacts, but lose virtually all of her Sith allies. Not to mention the major thing that’s insulating you from Thanaton. Can you tell me that you’re ready to defend her holdings with the resources you have now?”

 

“I’ll have more by the time she’s ready to try anything.” If nothing else, she’s not going to get rid of me until I’m no longer useful as an errand-girl.

 

“But do you know when that will be? A week? A month? A year? How much do you think you’ll be able to accomplish that she or some other Sith won’t block before then?”

 

“I’ll manage.” His words have a ring of truth to them, but I’ll deal with them later. Millennia of Sith have done so, I’m not weak enough to fail where they succeeded.

 

He shrugs. “Suit yourself. You can go on your way at any point, and nothing about our previous arrangement has to change. Just continue to keep this whole thing a secret.”

 

With that not-too-reassuring assurance, I turn to leave. He can keep his plotting to himself and I’ll keep mine. But before I’ve gone more than a step or two, I pause. I’ve got a golden opportunity here to speak privately with him, one I may not get again. If I want information on his plans and goals, there’s not going to be a better time to get it. I could ask almost anything under the guise of wanting more details and at least not be met with too much suspicion.

 

To my surprise, the first thing out of my mouth is “Why me?” Not that I haven’t been wanting to know, but it wasn’t how I was planning to start.

 

Erilinn smiles wryly. “You really want to know? I thought about several of the students from your class. I wanted someone with enough power to have a chance but enough sense not to let it go to their head, enough loyalty to work with me long term but not so much they would be unwilling to betray their master, and moral enough to not be a complete monster but still willing to do anything they needed to get the job done. You were the only one that came close to fitting.”

 

I snort. “Nice speech.”

 

“Thank you. I worked on it for a while.”

 

“Imagining for a moment that I did say yes, what would you want me to do?”

 

“It’s not going to be a matter of what I want you to do. We have equal stakes in this and if you don’t want to do something, we can discuss it, just like you’re free to introduce any plans of your own that you might want to.”

 

“But you still have plans.”

 

“Of course I do. I would love it if you would play the game of the Sith with me, but I’m not going to simply pull out if you refuse. My current goal is to take out Darth Erius.”

 

“Karanni’s master?”

 

“Yes. We already know he’s been plotting against you and Zash, and I suspect he plans to move on Thanaton himself, putting us all at risk.”

 

“And how do you know this?”

 

He laughs. “Quillen should have better security on his holonet calls. It took my slicer less than an hour to break in.” I do smile a bit at that. Typical. “Besides that, it will get Karanni on our side.”

 

“Why would we want that?” She’s about as stable as a sand cliff after a rainstorm.

 

“Because if there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s loyalty. Once you earn her allegiance, it takes a lot to get her to betray it, I’ve seen that as she works with Darth Baras. I’m not suggesting we let her into our inner circle or anything, but as long as we can convince her it’s not going to harm her master, she could be very useful as a way to get things done while tracing any fallout back to someone else.”

 

It’s a pretty speech. It even gives me a few ideas of my own to try out when I get the chance. But while I can’t lie myself into thinking that I don’t trust Erilinn at all, I don’t trust him this far.

 

He holds out his hand and looks at me, a flicker of anticipation barely visible on his face before he shuts it down. “Are you interested, Kiarn?”

 

I look down at the hand, then back into his angled golden eyes. “No, I don’t think so.”

 

 

 

Note:

 

 

The slicer that Erilinn has mentioned a couple of times now is actually Mako, who's been taking side contracts to help her and Ketturah out in the Great Hunt. This will come up on the SFWC thread at some point, I'm sure.

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

Sad seeing this thread so empty! Hopefully a little life will come back to it now that the school year is starting up again for a lot of people.

 

This prompt gave me fits, and then even once I decided what I was going to do, I still had massive writer's block issues working on it. But it's finally done and ready to post.

 

See if you can guess which Star Trek episode I was inspired by

 

Title: Like Rabbits

Prompt: Do the Math

Characters: Jessasi Silver (Smuggler), Corso Riggs, Risha, Akkavvi Sparr, Guss

Length: 1,500 words

Spoilers: None that I can think of

 

 

“What’s that?” said Corso, sitting up straighter on the couch.

 

I smile, looking down at the thing cradled in my arms. “It’s a gizka. Isn’t it cute?”

 

He frowns. “It looks like the lizard creatures that used to eat all the rontos’ grain if we weren’t looking.” The gizka makes one of its squeaky noises, that sounds something like ‘queek’, and his face softens. “Aw, listen to that.”

 

I smile, hugging it tighter. He can never resist me, or a cute animal. “Figured as long as we were on Corillia again, I should do a little shopping. I found him in a pet store, and I just had to take him home.”

 

Risha slips into the room, followed by Akkavi. They both stop, then almost run over to me, asking about the gizka. What’s its name? Where did I get it? Are we going to keep it? It’s pretty funny to see Miss Princess and Miss ****** Mandalorian so into cute animals like this, I’ll have to admit.

 

“What’s that noise?” comes Guss’ voice from the other room. He appears just as the gizka (I think I’m going to call him Skeel) queeks again.

 

“It’s our new pet!” I call.

 

He frowns, which is an absolutely hilarious expression on Mon Calamari. “Does it always make that noise?”

 

I nod. “Isn’t it cute?”

 

“Nuh-uh. I’m gonna have a headache pretty soon.”

 

“You’re no fun,” I reply, making a pouty face. It works on almost everyone, but not him today. He just frowns and turns to leave.

 

As we eat dinner that evening- Corso made flatcakes and I’m feeding Skeel scraps from my plate while everyone else pretends not to notice- I hear an annoying beeping sound from the lounge and cockpit simultaneously. Must be the com. I keep forgetting to change the ringtone.

 

I trot over to the lounge and answer. Somebody laughs in the dining room. “Hello?”

 

“Captain Silver?”

 

“That’s me, what do you want?”

 

“I’d like to hire you. Can you be at the Sunning Maka in twenty minutes?”

 

“Sure. My copilot and I’ll be there.”

 

It turns out that the guy- a friend of a friend- wants us to take a shipment to Coruscant. Apparently, he was going to do it himself, but his ship got damaged in the Imperial invasion and he’s stuck here. Now his cargo hold is full of super valuable eggs of some avian that are going to go bad if someone doesn’t get them delivered soon.

 

Of course Corso and I agree to help him out, for an appropriate rush fee of course. It’s not entirely scalping, anyway. Hurrying that much means we’ll have to leave right away and won’t be able to make any stops, so there’s no chance of picking up other cargo or refueling somewhere cheaper.

 

We head back to the ship and explain to the crew. Everybody seems onboard with the idea, although some are more enthusiastic than others. Gus seems like he can’t wait to get out of here, while Akkavi just shrugs and says that I’m the captain. Getting the stuff loaded takes a lot longer and generates way more attention than I’d like, but we manage to take off and get into hyperspace by midnight local time. Corso and I fall asleep with Skeel curled up in-between my legs.

 

The next morning- at least I’m pretty sure it’s the next morning, I won’t be able to tell until I check the chrono that’s across the room so I actually have to wake up and go over to turn it off- I wake up to a weird noise in my ear. “ Queek!” goes Skeel again as I sit up.

 

“Ugh, what time is it?” I mutter.

 

“Queek” I look down at him and bite back a shout. There, curled up at the end of my bed, is another gizka.

Well, that’s weird. I blink a couple of times to make sure I’m not just hallucinating. I didn’t drink last night, but I did a few days ago. Can you get a delayed hangover? Are those a thing? Maybe I’m seeing double.

 

But the other gizka is still there when I open my eyes and Skeel is still nuzzling me. He’s already figured out where his food comes from, the little genius. I pat him on the head and tap Corso until he wakes up.

 

“What is it?” he mutters. He’s never been a morning person.

 

“I think Skeel’s a girl. And I think he just had a baby.”

 

That wakes him up pretty fast. “What?” I point to the other gizka. “Well, look at that. What should we name this one?”

 

“I think it’s your turn to come up with a name,” I reply. I kind of only really wanted one of them, but since we have two, it could be fun. We can dress them up in matching costumes for life day pictures and stuff. Hopefully Corso doesn’t mind.

 

“Hmmm….” He scratches his chin and the beginning of the beard that’s starting there. I tried to convince him to grow it out, but he wasn’t interested. “How about Jayla?”

 

“Skeel and Jayla?” That could work. “Sound’s great.”

 

As we sit over breakfast that morning, I introduce Jayla to the crew. Guss sighs dramatically, but everyone else seems happy enough. I’m starting to wash the dishes when two gizka trot in, queeking in harmony.

 

I look at them, then to Jayla in my arms, and back to the rest of the crew.

 

“We’re screwed.”

 

Sure enough, by the time we’ve been in space for another few hours, there’s at least half a dozen of the things running around. We’ve given up on naming them and I’m not really sure which ones are Skeel and Jayla anymore. Corso says that they’re obviously on a very short reproductive cycle and we should try to keep them apart, so I get Akkavi to help me heard them into separate rooms and lock the doors. Hopefully it works. All the queeking is making my lekku hurt.

 

Whelp, that didn’t work. Or rather, it did until Gus decided that he really, really needed to get into his room without checking to make sure that all the other doors were closed first. And just like that, more of the things running around. UUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

 

There are officially more gizka on this ship than we can reasonably feed. I gave up counting a while back, but last time I checked, there was more than two hundred. Corso and Risha both keep telling me to stop and get rid of them somewhere, while Akkavi suggests spacing them. But as annoying as they are, I can’t quite bring myself to do that. It’s not their fault their weight might cripple the ship if we don’t get into port soon. And stopping long enough to get rid of them is going to keep us from delivering the eggs on time.

 

Finally, Coruscant. If I hear one more queek, I’m going to ram the ship into the ground. We called ahead and our contact is waiting on the landing pad for us. With all six of us plus his hired help working, we get the eggs offloaded quickly, but not before one of them catches a glimpse of the inside of the ship. It’s full of gizka now and stinks to high heaven. So embarrassing. I really want to point out that I normally take better care of my ship than that, but instead I just shrug at his questioning look and finish transferring the eggs to the chilled speeder.

 

Now, on to the animal shelter. We’re greeted there by a tall twi’lek woman with brightly-painted green lekku. She nods sympathetically as I explain what happened. “Gizka make great pets, but you have to get them fixed. But I’m guessing you figured that out already.”

 

I snort. “So what should I do with them?”

 

“We can take them for you. We are an animal shelter after all, although we’ll probably end up transferring a lot of them to other districts. I doubt there’s two hundred families around her who want a new pet.”

 

“Great. Just make sure to get them fixed, right?”

 

She gives me an “are you kidding” look and starts opening a file for our little friends. “You can keep a few of them if you’d like after we take care of them. How do you feel about that?”

 

I never want to see a gizka again, but Corso nods. “We’ll keep Skeel and Jayla. If we can find them, anyway.”

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

The chef cracked open the box. These eggs had cost him a small fortune and they had better be in good shape. As he lifted the lid, he heard a noise that made his heart crash to his knees- softly, almost in unison, two cries of hunger or boredom:

 

“Queek!”

 

 

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

I haven't died, I promise! I've been quite busy, first with work and then moving (still have to find a good place for all these empty boxes...).

 

Also, I got involved with a Vampire: The Masquerade group and that's been consuming a lot of my creative energy lately. I'm having a blast, though. Actually, the switch from Sith to OWoD vampires is an extremely easy one in many ways.

 

Part 79: Covert Meeting

 

 

About ten minutes after Zash leaves the house, I get the call I’ve been expecting from Khem. I make my show of anger over the com before hanging up and pulling on a waterproof cloak. The nearest taxi stop is only a block away, but that’s more than enough time to get soaking wet. Besides, we might be meeting outside.

 

As I stand waiting for the speeder to pull up, I mentally try to figure out what I should do about this party of Zash’s. I’ll attend, of course. I’m pretty sure the only thing that would get me out of it at this point would be injury serious enough to require emergency surgery. So I’ll show up and make small talk. Who knows? Maybe some tipsy Sith will let a secret or two slide.

 

The trip to the spaceport is uneventful and I spend it trying to pull my thoughts off the new dress I’ll buy- I’ve never had a fancy dress before- and onto my meeting with Erilinn. I’m assuming that he’s met with Karanni and wants to talk to me about that, but honestly it could be anything. I’ll hear him out, but I’m going to keep a close watch on my lightsaber.

 

I don’t see any sign of him when I walk in. Fine by me. I should probably do what I ostensibly came to do first anyway.

 

A guard accosts me as I key in the code for the Solace’s hanger. “What are you doing here?”

 

I turn on him. “What do you think I’m doing here?”

 

He leans forward a fraction, as though he’s studying my face behind that darkened faceplate of his, then snaps to attention and salutes. “My apologies, Lord. Carry on.” As he walks away, I spot something fluttering to the ground behind him. Finishing unlocking the hanger, I use the tiniest bit of the Force to move the object toward me, then float it up to my hand, using my body as cover from the cameras that I’m sure are placed all around this place.

 

With the slip of flimsi- that’s what it is, at least judging by the way it crackles in my gloved hand- hidden in my fist, I stride across the hanger to my ship. “Khem!” I shout when I reach the halfway point.

 

He appears on the boarding ramp. “What kind of useless servant are you when you can’t find one single datapad on my own ship?” I continue my ranting until we’re onboard and the door is shut behind us, then stop

midsentence. “Sorry.”

 

He makes a noncommittal noise and stalks into the passenger cabin that he seems to have claimed as his own. I pull out the sheet of flimi and inspect it.

 

Meeting canceled. Walk home.

 

My first instinct is frustration. After getting me all the way out here, he’s just going to cancel? And I don’t think this trick is going to work again. Then I realize that something’s not right. Why specify that I should walk home? More likely than a cancelation is that our meeting spot somehow became compromised and he had to change locations. The note is a coded way of telling me the new plan.

 

Conjuring a bit of lightning in my hand to singe the note beyond readability, I toss it into the wastebin and summon Khem. “Time to go.”

 

We exit the spaceport, timing our escape for just as the taxi is leaving. I make a show of running for it, hoping that we really are too late to stop it, then stand around for a few minutes, tapping my foot in annoyance and pacing.

After what seems almost as long as I’m making it out to seem, I spin on my heel- nearly slipping in the film of mud that coats the landing platform from endless foot traffic- and start marching down the path towards Kaas City. Apart from my initial trek when I arrived after Korriban, I’ve never walked this route.

 

In a way, it makes it easier to spot anything that might come for me; familiarity breeds carelessness and it’s hard to look closely at something you’ve seen a thousand times. If the Mandalorian clans or the cult I heard about a while back are looking to cause trouble, or some jungle creatures are hunting for something human-shaped, or if this whole thing turns out to be an elaborate lie and Erilinn or someone else is waiting to ambush me, it will be a lot easier to spot here than in Zash’s neighborhood, where it’s easy to walk on autopilot.

 

So I don’t have a hard time noticing the figure leaning against a tree just off the main path. I keep walking, trying to give whoever it is no clues that I’ve noticed them as I try to sneak a better look around the corner of my hood. It’s Erilinn alright. I can already recognize the way he’s standing and the presence in the Force that still leaks out a bit from his attempts to keep it under wraps.

 

If this is a trap, the best strategy will probably be to play innocent until he thinks he has me, so I use the Force to feel out the area. No one is watching that I can tell, and that’s as good as I’m probably going to get. I make my way towards the treeline, the mud squishing under my boots.

 

Khem hesitates and I beckon for him to follow me. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of him, of course, but I also don’t want to leave him standing in the middle of the road for anyone who happens by to see. Besides, if it comes to a fight, I’ll want him close. I doubt I can beat Erilinn by myself.

 

As we approach, he detaches himself from the tree trunk and pulls back his hood. His shaggy black hair is immediately drenched and he blinks as a large drop of water falls from the leaves above and onto his face. “You came.”

 

“I did.” I follow his lead and pull down my hood. Instantly, I wish I hadn’t. I wipe the water from my eyes and say

“You said you needed to talk in person?”

 

He nods. “The slicer I hired is excellent- the droid I tried it against took nearly a week to crack the encryption- but her program only works for short messages. Besides, anything sent over the holonet can still be hacked eventually.”

 

I nod. It’s true, but I wish he’d get to the point already. Small talk was never my strong suite and I’ll have to do enough of it this evening already.

 

Erilinn looks at Khem. “Perhaps we should step away?”

 

Looking between the two of them, I make a snap decision. “Alright.”

 

We move a little deeper into the jungle, perhaps fifty meters. I can’t see the path now and the trees grow closer together, with trunks many times the circumference of my waist. The undergrowth is thick enough that we have to constantly push it aside to advance, sending extra showers of droplets into the air. The thick canopy of leaves makes the rain come down a little lighter, but only to “normal for Dromund Kaas” levels. Still enough that I feel rain sliding down the back of my neck and pooling inside my hood.

 

Erilinn stops in a small patch with no brush. “I talked to Karanni yesterday.”

 

“And?”

 

“She seems more than willing to help us take out Erius. I didn’t broach the idea to her directly- I don’t want our plans in the minds of more people than need them - but there’s no faking that kind of hatred.”

 

“It was a wise choice,” I admit, remembering how she gave away a hint of Baras’ plans the first time I saw her on Dromund Kaas. “She has a loose tongue. I notice you’re using ‘us’ here. Care to explain?”

 

“That’s why I had you come all the way out here today. I want to fill you in. All the way.”

 

 

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

@Feldraeth- Thank you! Now that you mention it, those large dogs following toddlers around is the perfect illustration. Made me smile. And Kiarn's dress shopping will get some attention in a later chapter, don't worry

 

@Frauzet- Yeah, don't think he'll be much help with that one. Although if Zash decides he needs to get dressed up too... I'd draw it if I was better at quick humerous sketches.

 

Thanks for the comments, guys, you made my day! Next chapter is in the works!

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

@EverSteam- Skipping for spoilers, sorry I'm glad to see you posting, though! And welcome back

 

Title: Three Days Off

Prompt: Home Ec

Characters: Mallena Dayne (Trooper), Aric Jorgan, Tanno Vik, Elara Dorne mentioned

Length: 2,000 words

Spoilers: Trooper Balmorra

 

Note: This piece is a continuation of several others I've written for Mallena. Links in the author's note. Index after Return to Duty

 

 

Mallena fumbled for her datapad and swiped the alarm off. Rolling onto her stomach, she pushed herself off the bed and blinked the sleep from her eyes. Time to get up.

 

She disentangled herself from the covers and slid to the floor. As she did, she realized that she felt much more rested than she normally did at this time. Why was that? Then she remembered that it wasn’t the usual time.

Since they had a few days off between leaving Balmorra and when they were supposed to report to General Garza for their next assignment, she’d set her alarm for 0830 instead of 0630.

 

With the knowledge that she’d had an extra two hours of sleep, she headed for the shower with a lighter step than normal. After drying off and braiding her still-wet hair back from her face, she dressed quickly and wandered into the main lounge to see what the rest of her squad was up to.

 

Elara sat at the table, head bent over a datapad and sheets of flimisplast scattered everywhere. Probably finishing up the paperwork from their last operations. She should probably go help. She hadn’t had an XO long enough that she’d forgotten how much trouble making official duty transfers was, and all the more so with a record as colorful as Tanno Vik’s.

 

Vik himself sprawled on the couch, remote in one hand and a mug in the other. Something that sounded suspiciously like pod racing blared from the television. “The Imp chick- I mean, Lt. Dorne, m’am,” he added, with a nervous glance at Elara. “Lt. Dorne made caf.”

 

Mallena angled toward the galley. Caf sounded good right now. There was no sign of Jorgan, but if she knew him, he was probably still asleep. And in all likelihood, she wouldn’t see much of him even when he did get up. Since the entire debacle that had been her visit home and culminated in Elara’s promotion, they’d both been steadily avoiding each other. It was hard to really do that on a starship in hyperspace or under enemy fire with only one or two other people and a droid, but they’d managed to keep from having to do much more than normal expected social interaction. “How are you doing?”, “Please pass the butter”, “You should get that cut looked at”. He’d started calling her Sir again, too.

 

Grabbing a mug off the shelf- her favorite, emblazoned with a quote from the last Dark Lord of the Crystal holofilm- she poured caf and a spoonful of sugar into it and stirred as she returned to the lounge. At some point she was going to have to sit down and hash it out with him. Elara had noticed the tension a long time ago, although being privy to the source of it probably helped, and even Vik’s thick skull wasn’t completely oblivious. But not today.

 

Elara slid over to make room for her at the table. “Good morning, Commander. I’m just finishing the last of the documentation from the Balmorran mission. After that, I have to requisition a few more supplies for the med bay and I think we will be done until our next assignment.”

 

“I can finish the documentation if you want to get started on the supplies.”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“I didn’t make you XO just to stick you with all the paperwork, you know.”

 

Elara smiled and slid a stack of flimsi over to her. “I’ve done everything except the equipment damage reports and imputing the info for our contacts in the Balmorran resistance. The latter is need-to-know only for security reasons, so you’ll have to seal it when you’re done.”

 

Mallena nodded and got to work. Half a form later, she heard a change in the general noise around her and looked up. Jorgan had emerged from the bunk room and was walking towards them. As he did, he yawned, exposing his pointed teeth, and stretched luxuriously.

 

Quickly, Mallena returned to her work so they didn’t make eye contact and have to say something to each other. But not before snorting a bit. She still hadn’t gotten over her first time seeing her former CO and grouch-king-extraordinaire wandering around her ship in pajama pants and a Frogdogs t-shirt with his fur all flattened and pushed out of shape. It didn’t seem right.

 

Elara greeted him pleasantly and returned to her paperwork. Mallena frowned and returned to trying to remember whether she had used five flash grenades and three incendiary grenades during the operation, or three flash and five incendiary. After a few more minutes of searching her memory and the rest of the forms, she sighed. She’d just have to go down and check.

 

The weapons storage room was cool and smelled like metal and grease. Lockers and cabinets lined the walls and a table in the center of the room was covered in tools. She sighed. If Vik did this one more time, she’d have to think up some sort of punishment that would actually stick with him. As it was, she’d give him a stern talking-to when she got upstairs and make him come clean up his mess.

 

Unlocking the grenade storage locker, she surveyed the rows of neatly arranged cylinders and spheres. A sheet of flimsi hung on the inside of the door detailing the contents as of the last time they had taken an inventory. She checked the totals, then counted up the remainders. Five flash grenades and three incendiaries, it looked like.

 

As she swung the door shut, she heard a noise behind her and caught something in the corner of her eye. “Hello, Jorgan.”

 

“Hello, Commander.” He shifted his weight to his other foot and kept standing in the doorway.

 

“Was there something you needed?”

 

He shook his head quickly. “No, sir, just going to, um, clean out my locker.” Apparently realizing that he was blocking her exit, he came further into the room and started fiddling with one of the cabinets.

 

“Ah. Alright. And don’t call me sir.” Mallena headed back upstairs to finish her report. What was that all about? she wondered.

 

The next day, she slept in again and spent most of the morning browsing the holonet. When she finally decided to fully vacate the bed, she straightened the blankets, gathered the plates and empty caf mugs, and made her way into the lounge. Vik was nowhere in sight- he had said something about a party with the resistance last night, so he was probably still sleeping off a hangover. He didn’t seem the type to hook up at a party.

 

Elara had left earlier in the morning to go into town. Although she hadn’t said as much to Mallena, their earlier conversations had indicated that she was excited to pick up a few uniquely Imperial snacks that she hadn’t been able to get in a while. Mallena hoped she’d share a few. Elara had said something about going for a hike afterword, so she doubted she’d see much of her until the evening.

 

That left Jorgan. She had no idea what he was planning for his day, or what he’d done with the day before, for that matter. As she slid the dirty dishes into the sink- she’d deal with them later- she heard a noise in the lounge and craned her neck to see him come into her view, carrying a datapad and what looked like a few accessories.

 

Maybe she’d wash the dishes now. Picking up the caf mug, she rinsed it, scrubbed the ring from the inside, and set it upside-down on the drying rack. For a moment, she just stood there, watching it drip. This was silly. Now was as good a time as any to go talk to him, with everyone else gone or busy. And she had to get this out of the

way before they left on their next mission or it would drive her nuts. She left the plates in the sink.

 

Jorgan sat at the table, brow furrowed in concentration. A pair of headphones kept her from hearing what he was doing, but judging by the twitchy movements of his hand and his rapid changes in expression, he was playing some sort of game. She peered over his shoulder. Alliance of Elites, she should have known. It seemed like just about everyone in basic had played it, at least a little, and Hartsin and Carian had been obsessed for a while.

She’d never tried it herself, but she knew enough to figure out what was going on. And from what she could tell, he was pretty bad at it.

 

Despite her attempts to be stealthy, he must have noticed her come in. He looked up sheepishly and pulled out one earbud. “I haven’t played in a while,” he muttered, then cringed as he looked back at the screen. “And I died

again.”

 

She let herself smile a little at that. “Do you have time to talk?”

 

“We just lost the match, so yes.” He tapped the screen a couple of time and pushed the datapad aside. “What do

you want, Dayne?”

 

“I just thought we needed to figure out this whole…” she searched vaguely for the word. “… thing before we leave on our next mission. It’s been a little awkward since after our break, no, I guess since after the Justice, and I don’t want it getting in the way of the squad.”

 

“OK.” He looked at her, apparently waiting for her to elaborate. “Do you want to start, or should I?”

 

Mallena stopped, somewhat taken aback. “Do you know what you want to say?” He nodded. “Then why don’t you go first.” It’ll give me a little more time to figure out what I want to say!

 

Jorgan cleared his throat, then looked down at his lap. When he looked up, he didn’t meet her eyes. “I wanted to say that I shouldn’t have gotten mad about the whole promotion thing. I’ve been at this long enough to know that there’s a lot more that goes into it than your personal feelings about people and you did what you thought would be best for Havoc Squad. I shouldn’t have thought less of you.”

 

“Wow. Um, thank you.”

 

“Also, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable that night at your house. I’ve, uh, really come to admire you over the past couple of years, and what happened on the Justice made me realize how it could all be over for any of us, just like that, and I didn’t want to lose the chance. And when you didn’t say anything, I thought you were alright with it too.” He looked up. “I promise that it won’t ever happen again, sir.”

 

Mallena nodded slowly, wanting to make sure she was absolutely sure of what she meant before she said anything. “I’ll start by saying that I accept your apology, and I forgive you. And I have to apologize to you, too. I shouldn’t have avoided you after that night, I should have tried to sort things out before it got awkward. More than it was already, that is. I let my embarrassment get in the way of running the squad correctly. And even though I stand by my decision to make Elara my XO, I am sorry I couldn’t choose you too. You should still be a Lieutenant. Garza sprung it on me right there or I would have told you both in advance so it wouldn’t have been so weird.”

 

“And I accept your apology as well. Thank you.”

 

They stayed silent for a moment. “So, about that night…” Mallena began, hoping desperately that this didn’t end with her looking stupid.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You weren’t wrong.”

 

“I wasn’t? About what?”

 

“I was enjoying it. Hell, I’m the one who grabbed your hand at one point, I’m pretty sure.”

 

A slow smile spread over his face. “Really?”

 

“Yeah. And, uh, I might be willing to try again. But only if you want to. Nothing at all if you don’t want to.”

 

He shook his head. “I’d love to. How about tomorrow night?”

 

 

 

Note:

 

 

The other stories in this arc are as follows:

Aftermath of Justice is optional, but sets up the situation for the next couple stories

 

Welcome Home! and Constant Interruption both deal with Mallena and Jorgan's relationship before this

 

And finally, Return to Duty introduces the problems they're specifically dealing with in this piece.

 

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

Finally resolved the internet issue that wasn't letting me post and had a few days off work to get an update finished!

 

Part 78: An Invitation

 

 

After the initial adjustment to being back on Dromund Kaas, my life slips into a predictable rhythm: wake early and eat breakfast with Zash before she leaves for her office. Spend a few hours studying ancient Sith texts or surfing the holonet, then do some stretching and flexibility exercises until lunch, which I usually eat in my room. Afterword, I walk to the Sanctum, where Zash’s tutor instructs me in lightsaber technique for most of the afternoon. Back to Zash’s for a shower and dinner, then more study or holonet until I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. Khem is my only companion for most of the day, standing silently in a corner of the room or reading one of the texts I’ve discarded. Sometimes we spar if we’re in the mood, but mostly he sits quietly. I’m hardly one to point fingers at people for being overly quiet, but it makes me a bit uncomfortable.

 

Erilinn contacts me twice during the first two months, both times via an encrypted text message. The first merely passes on the fact that Karanni has left the planet and is traveling to Nar Shadda. A little checking of my own reveals that this is most likely true. The second is a much longer message, detailing a plan to ambush me on my way home from the Sanctum one day. I arrange to have Zash summon me to her office after my usual practice and take care to vary my route in the future.

 

After that I decide I should probably return the favor and share a few of the things I noticed while snooping around Zash’s room. He thanks me for the information, although I have no idea what, if anything, he thinks of it.

 

So when I receive another unexpected message from an unknown sender, I don’t waste any time decoding it. As always, the text is short and cryptic.

 

The breather has returned. That would probably be Karanni, a reference to the respirator she apparently wears now.

 

Am approaching. Meet me in same location at 0900 tomorrow. Same location… that would most likely be the spaceport. It’s the last time we spoke in person, apart from exchanging pleasantries on socially appropriate occasions. I should be able to make it. Zash is always out of the house by 0730 and the spaceport isn’t that far out of town. The question is more how to get out there without looking odd. I don’t like relying on speeder pilots to be discrete, even droids, and I don’t have a speeder of my own. I suppose I could go on foot, but I’d have to run most of the way to make it in time, which is probably a little far even for my increased level of stamina in the last few months, and the path is still overrun with beasts, which will slow me down and tire me even further.

 

No, I’ll have to make a legitimate excuse to be at the spaceport tomorrow. My ship is there, and I suppose I could make a pretense of going to check up on it, but I don’t go very often and I was just there two days ago. “Khem?”

 

“Yes, little Sith?”

 

“I need to be at the spaceport tomorrow. I want you to head over there late tonight. Stay the night and call me first thing in the morning.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it makes more sense for a Sith to send one of her subordinates to retrieve something she left on her ship than to go down there in the middle of the night herself. By the time you realize that it’s not there, it will be late enough that you decide to wait until morning to call me and I’ll be upset enough to come down and look for it myself so I can chastise you personally when I find it within five minutes. All told, no one will pay any attention.”

 

He laughs. “You begin to understand the Sith.”

 

“More than I’d like.” If having your activities escape notice was all it took to succeed in this world, I’d be emperor before too long. Sith and slaves aren’t so different in that respect. But I have to get people to like me, without ending up liking them too much in return. Perhaps I should be more sociable. Erilinn is the only person I have contact with that I don’t have to be around to survive in day-to-day life.

 

With that thought on my mind, I climb into bed early and lay awake until sleep finally takes over. I hear Khem leave around 2300 hours, but no one seems to notice his departure.

 

In the morning, Khem is still out and I haven’t heard from him as I climb downstairs for breakfast. Hopefully he doesn’t choose to call in the middle of breakfast. While the excuse should hold with Zash as well, she’s far more likely to look closely at it than a random spaceport official is.

 

As we sit over bitter tropical fruit drowning in a sweet sauce with nuts and small bread rolls filled with eggs and herbs, Zash leans forward. “I’m hosting a dinner party tonight.”

 

“Oh?” The servants have been a little busier than normal, but not overly so, and the house is usually spotless anyway.

 

“Yes. Nothing special, just a couple of other Darths and a few Sith Lords.”

 

I make a noncommittal noise. Whatever it is she wants to tell me, she’ll get to it eventually.

 

“I’ve already made most of the important plans- menu, music, my outfit, and so on, but I realized last night that I neglected to tell you about it, apprentice. I want you to be there.”

 

“Is there anything particular you’d like me to do?” I say, pouring myself a cup of caf and adding a splash of cream.

Sometimes I really don’t understand her. One moment, I’m her beloved apprentice, the pride of her life and essential to all her plans, then next I’m a muddy nexu pup, someone to be shooed out of sight and forgotten about until she needs me to do some heavy lifting again. I feel more like her toy than her apprentice.

 

She waves a dismissive hand. “I simply want you to be there. It’s high time I introduced you to some of the Sith I spend the most time with.”

 

“Ah.” A subtle threat to the others? Or a show of trust? Or simply an opportunity to show off what she probably thinks of as her handywork?

 

“You may mingle freely, but keep the talk light. Absolutely do not make any reference to our project.” She leans back as the female servant comes to collect her empty plate. “You’ll need a suitable outfit. I’ll give you credits to buy one.”

 

“Thank you, master.” At least I get something out of it.

 

“Think nothing of it. Enjoy yourself tonight, apprentice, but remember. I’ll be keeping a close watch on your performance.”

 

 

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

@Striges- Thank you for the help! I'll keep that in mind if I ever end up re-writing the piece and definitely going forward.

 

@Yoshi- I'm not sure what's getting retconned here (if anything), but I enjoyed it nonetheless. In a game with a limited number of appearance options, it's inevitable that sometimes you'll end up looking a lot like npcs.

 

Skipping your KotFE stuff for now, since I haven't played the expansion.

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

Title: Keep Holding On

Prompt: Seven Virtues: Charity

Characters: Feyte Saien (Jedi Consular), Eyrie Lancaster (Jedi Knight), Kira Carson, Nadia Grell, Doc, Tharan Cedrax, Sgt. Rusk

Length: 1,100 words

Spoilers: Jedi Knight Act II finale, possible references to Jedi Consular Act II

 

 

Feyte paces back and forth in Shining Path’s common room. She and Tharan managed to convince most of Eyrie’s crew to head to bed after a medical examination. Now Sgt. Rusk is sprawled on the couch near her, Doc curled up in an armchair, T7 plugged into a nearby power socket, and Kira on Nadia’s bed. If she stretches out her awareness, Feyte can feel both padawans in the bedroom, Nadia worried and alert for any signs of a change in her friend’s condition, Kira’s life force dim but holding on. She would let them all sleep until the food was ready, at least.

 

The men would be alright with a little time, she was sure. But Kira… whatever had happened to her during the month she had disappeared had taken a great toll on her body. She would live, that much was certain, but what else Feyte couldn’t say.

 

What had happened? Sgt. Rusk had insisted that it was Eyrie’s story to tell and Doc had agreed after a stern look from the other man. Kira was in no shape to tell them anything. Eyrie herself had disappeared into the bathroom after ensuring her crew was stable and Feyte hasn’t seen her since. She doesn’t want to rush the other Jedi, but she can feel something is wrong.

 

Finally, she decides to check on her. Surely that can’t hurt. The bathroom door is still closed and she can hear the shower running. Feyte knocks cautiously. No answer. Again, louder this time. Still nothing. She opens the door a crack and calls Eyrie’s name, but only the rain-like sound of the shower greets her.

 

Feyte enters, pulling the door shut behind her. A small puddle of water seeps from under the shower curtain and

she can see a dark shape on the floor inside the stall. “Eyrie?” Her heart leaps into her mouth and she half-runs to the other side of the bathroom and pulls the curtain aside.

 

Eyrie sits on the tiled floor, knees pulled up to her chest and head bowed. She doesn’t move and for a moment Feyte is afraid she’s dead as the water pounds down on her bare shoulders and swirls the mix of blood and vomit that’s pooled around her down the drain. Then she takes a deep, shuddering breath and lets out a choked sob.

 

Kneeling, Feyte reaches out to brush her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Eyrie says, voice muffled between her legs. “I’m sorry.”

 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Eyrie. I was just worried about you. Are you alright?” Silence. “Do you want to talk about it?” A slight shake of the head. She scoots a little closer. “You’ve been in her for more than an hour. Are you almost ready to get out?”

 

Mechanically, Eyrie stands up and switches off the water, ignoring the foul sludge that’s still stuck to her legs and the bottom of the shower. Feyte wraps a towel around her shoulders, figuring that the fact she’s up and moving is worth more than pointing out that she should rinse off a little more. Eyrie is shaking, whether from cold or

exhaustion or something else Feyte can’t tell.

 

“Wait right here,” she says, although she’s sure the instruction is unnecessary, and sprints over to her dresser.

Nadia looks up at her curiously, but doesn’t say anything. Digging out a few pieces of clothing, she hurries back.

 

Eyrie is exactly where she left her. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.” Feyte helps her dry off and finish cleaning

herself, then change into a loose white shift and her oldest robe, a soft Alderaanian wool thing that she keeps

around purely for how soft and warm it is.

 

As it wraps around her shoulders, Eyrie speaks for the first time without prompting. “Thank you.”

 

“Don’t worry about it. We’re going to go sit down in my room, OK?” Eyrie nods and they walk out of the bathroom

together.

 

As soon as they enter the bedroom, Eyrie’s Force-sense spikes, her blank expression now hiding a swirl of anger and grief, all mixed up with a guilt stronger than Feyte can remember feeling. She stumbles over to Kira’s bedside and clutches at the headboard. “She’s alright,” Feyte assures her. “Just asleep for now.”

 

Eyrie allows Feyte and Nadia to pull her away and help her sit on the bed. “Nadia, would you get me a tray of food, please? Don’t worry, I’ll watch Kira for you.”

 

As the younger girl leaves, Eyrie grabs the quilt and does her best to wrap it around herself. “I don’t need food.”

 

“Nonsense. You look like you haven’t eaten in a month.” The blank space where her eyes would have been is sunken and her face pinched. The general grime on her face has been washed away and Feyte can see a

half-healed scrape along her jawline over a purplish bruise.

 

“Save it for someone who deserves it.”

 

“We have plenty. And what are you talking about, ‘deserve it’? You’re my friend, that’s more than worth a meal.”

 

Eyrie shakes her head. “This was my fault.”

 

“What was?” Feyte swallows hard, trying to get rid of the sudden tightness in her throat.

 

She gestures vaguely. “All of it. Master Braga and Master Sedoru and Master Narezz are dead because of me. And

I don’t even know what else I might have done. I can’t remember…”

 

Feyte sits quietly trying to process. What could have happened on that secret mission? “You made a strike against the Empire, didn’t you?”

 

Helplessly, Eyrie nods. “The Emperor. We had intelligence reports that he was planning something devastating.”

 

“So the council sent the four of you to handle it?”

 

“But I failed. I got everyone else killed and fell to the Dark Side, Feyte. I’m sorry. You should probably keep me away from everyone else until the Jedi Counsel decides what to do with me.”

 

“Alright.” She certainly isn’t acting like someone in the clutches of the Dark Side, but who knew what the Emperor had forced her to do? Knowing Eyrie, she would take responsibility for anything she had done, even under the

greatest pressure. But what if it was true? “We’ll get you help, don’t worry.”

 

“Thank you.” Eyrie’s ragged voice breaks and her shoulders start to shake.

 

Feyte wraps her arms around the Miraluka and lets her sob into her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright. You’re safe now, don’t worry.” But will they be? She tries hard not to think about what she’ll do if everything

Eyrie said is true.

 

 

 

 

Note:

 

 

I'm not entirely happy with how this one came out, so any tips on how to improve it would be appreciated.

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

@Alaurin- I feel you with being busy with school, albeit on the other side of the desk. The index looks good on all my stuff!

 

@Feldraeth- Glad you liked Ketturah's adventures. The story was a pain in the neck at points, but I'm reasonably satisfied with the results. No promises about any future Cato appearances, but let's just say he's not going to give up hunting after this, and might just decide that he wants a bit of glory and prize money himself...

 

@AKHadeed- thank you! Your comments make me smile

 

Comments:

 

 

@Striges- RE: Brosyc in Drabble- That was actually really sad. I've never really thought about the long-term effects of Force persuade before. I know that in the Thrawn trilogy the insane Jedi Jorrus C'boath ended up doing it so much to a man that he literally couldn't function mentally without someone controlling him, but I don't know about less extreme cases.

 

RE: Viidu's Wake- Makes sense. Also like that Corso names things apart from his weapons

 

RE: Personal Challenge- I started off trying to remember who Korik was supposed to be, then started giggling hysterically, then finished actually kind of sad. But I like the goofy meta stuff

 

@TheMantallian- First off, hi! Great to see new people on the thread And yay for more bounty hunters and mandos, too. I too like your characters formal thought process and his numerous loyalties. Looking forward to seeing how it turns out- has she not seen him again because she doesn't want to, or because she can't?

 

@AKHadeed- Still love your/Angie's narrative voice. " My sister wasn't exactly known for discretion or good behavior, and if she was silly enough to get involved with a Sith... Well, I really didn't want to have to shoot either one of them, so I just hoped that they stuck to flirting" made me laugh. No sisters, but if my brother decided to get involved with a sith... yeah. I like the conflicting emotions in this story- annoyance mixed with worry born of what I think is genuine affection.

 

@Feldraeth- Once again, I like Vette and Roan's interaction. It's a very sweet but ultimately kind of sad friendship, since someday they're going to have it slammed in their faces how different they really are and are going to have to decide what they plan to do about it.

 

 

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

@Feldraeth- Yeah, paranoia isn't really something Kiarn lacks. Only time will tell how well this arrangement will work out for her. Glad you're enjoying the story!

 

As for your question, Kiarn does use a double-bladed lightsaber with a variant of Makashi. The elegance and precision associated with it would appeal to her a lot, and Erilinn would think it suited her abilities pretty well. She's not particularly strong as Sith go and her size makes it easy to knock her around, but she does know how to take a hit and keep going and she's at least decently agile, although not to the levels that would suggest Ataru.

 

If you care, of my other characters, Erilinn uses a Djem So variant, Feyte a basic Niman, Eyrie Ataru, and Karanni Juyo. Meiko wasn't far enough along in her studies to have developed into a particular form.

 

The offering her his lightsabers bit was more about "hey, look, I'm unarmed, I trust you! Trust me!" than anything about her abilities to kill him or not. Although I'm sure he wasn't too worried in that direction. After all, he was responsible for a great deal of her training, so I'm sure he'd have a pretty good idea of what she was capable of.

 

 

Kind of a short update today, sorry about that!

 

Part 77: Reporting to Zash

 

 

Erilinn’s speeder stops at the Sanctum and we disembark and go our separate ways, him inside and me to Zash’s house. She’s probably still at her office- although the chrono on my datapad says it’s nearly 2100 hours, she tends to stay out late- but I’m tired and she can’t blame me for going to the place she’s technically most likely to be.

 

The house is dark as I approach, but I can feel Zash’s presence upstairs and someone else below. Probably one of her servants. Inside a fake fire flickers in the grate and the room is warm. The female servant appears from the basement as I enter. “Is there anything you need, m’lord?”

 

“Food,” I reply as I take up a position against a wall. There are advantages to being on Dromund Kaas, of course. I have to put up with Zash and Sith politics in general, but having someone wait on me is certainly nice, doubly so since Zash apparently employs hers as free beings. It might endear her to me if I wasn’t so sure that it was because she didn’t want to have a slave alone alone in her house when she left on long trips or worry about

remembering to keep one alive.

 

My master appears a few moments later, wearing an off-the-shoulder gown that’s just simple enough to convince me that it’s actually supposed to be sleepwear and not a party outfit. “Apprentice!” she coos. “Do you have the artifact?”

 

It’s in my belt pouch. “Here.”

 

“Excellent.” She seats herself on one of the chairs and motions for me to do the same. “Wine!” she calls to the servant.

 

“Right away, Lord.”

 

Zash leans back luxuriously in the chair and steeples her fingers, brown eyes studying me. “Now tell me about your mission, Apprentice. I want to know all the intimate details.”

 

I doubt any of them are particularly intimate, seeing as the most physical contact I had was carrying an unconscious body and being dragged by the arm, but I summarize the parts of the trip that won’t raise uncomfortable questions and edit out the rest. By the time I get to my killing Bessiker, she’s nodding in approval.

 

“You killed both the major and his son? Stupendous work. You’ve done well.”

 

Well, at least someone feels that way. I pick up the wine that the servant brought us sometime around Dr. Tyrek’s laboratory and sip it. It tastes better than the last time I tried it and I wonder if it’s because it’s a different one than last time or because I’m slowly starting to develop a taste for it. “Thank you, Master.”

 

“Now, there is the matter of how to proceed. I’ve been researching the location of the last artifact while you’ve been

away, but it’s proving more difficult than I had anticipated. You’ll have to remain here until I can finish the project.”

 

“Is there some way I could help?” The servant reappears, carrying a tray of food on each arm. She sets one in front of me and I glance down at it. A tiny pastry-thing that I recognize from breakfasts as being filled with eggs and vegetables, a small pile of greens, and a selection of breads topped with various pastes that I can’t I identify, alone with tea and a smaller plate piled with delicate baked sweets. I have no idea how she managed to produce all of this on such short notice. I suppose people can be payed or bought specifically for that purpose, but my time in kitchens was limited to “wash this”, “chop this” and “dispose of this”, so I’m not sure how it’s done.

 

“Not at the moment, no. You’d have no idea of what to look for, and the details of the project would only confuse you at this stage.”

 

Meaning that she doesn’t want me to know what she’s up to and where she found the information is somehow significant. “Ah.” I take a bite of one of the pieces of bread. The stuff on top seems to be some sort of meat paste, not altogether pleasant tasting. I finish it anyway.

 

“What you can do is continue your training. Balmorra was a soft target and I doubt that your next mission will be so easy. I want you in tip-top form when I tell you to leave.”

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

“I’ll probably have a few tasks for you to do while you’re here, but you may rest tonight.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Zash stands up, picking up her tray of still-untouched food. “I’ll be in my study.” She sweeps up the stairs and a moment later I hear the door to her room slide shut.

 

I finish the meal in silence- the food is well-prepared, but apart from the pastry, not particularly to my taste- and head up to my own room. Khem stayed back at the spaceport when I went with Erilinn, and the room is eerily quiet as I change into a fresh dress and climb into bed.

 

For once I fall asleep easily. Usually I lie awake until the early hours of the morning unless I’m so exhausted that I physically cannot hold my eyes open. I wish that had been the case tonight. Dreams of Meiko and Karanni’s broken bodies mix with twisted creatures racked with hideous deformities like fungal growths and a thick, choking fog that fills my lungs with searing pain and makes my eyes bleed. By the time morning comes, the sheets are clammy with sweat and twisted around my legs. I head for the shower, feeling more tired than when I lay down.

 

 

 

Note:

 

 

As my tumblr followers know, I headcannon Zash as being a bit of a foodie, in keeping with my perception of her as liking all the finest things in life.

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

@Alaurin- Hi! Welcome back, we missed you I've heard of the "smuggler as undercover republic agent" concept before, but don't recall it having been used on this thread, at least not recently. I'll be interested to see where you go with it. Also, cool to see a twi'lek male around here. "There's girls on Ord Mantell" Indeed there are, indeed there are...

 

Guess what? It's the final installment of Ketturah's adventures on Dantooine today!

 

Title: I Work Alone (part 6)

Prompt: Seven Deadly Sins: Pride

Characters: Ketturah Atridies (Bounty Hunter)

Length: 2,300 words

Spoilers: none

 

 

Ketturah’s mouth was dry and tasted like crap. Dragging her eyelids open, she lolled her head to the side and tried to figure out where the hell she was. Oh, right. The floor of Shar Noland’s bolt-hole. Cato had gassed her with something and gone after him himself. She should do something about that. As soon as she could muster up the effort to move…

 

Sleep wrapped itself around her and threated to take her back, but she forced her eyes open and bit down hard on her lower lip. That helped a bit, anyway. The feeling was coming back into her legs and she could probably move if she didn’t try to do too much.

 

By the time she had managed to stand up, she was starting to wonder where Cato was. Shouldn’t he be out by now? Or had he left already? The door to the bunker was open. Had the double-crossing sleemo closed it on his way down, or not?

 

Keeping one hand on the wall, she pulled out a blaster with the other and made her way down the tight spiral stairs. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t have to go very far down before she saw a light around the corner. She stopped, suddenly aware of how much noise her boots were making. She listened. Nothing.

 

Cautiously, she descended the rest of the way and came out into a small room. The glow, it turned out, was from a small bare luminglobe that threw strange shadows onto the cot, toilet, and a large supply of tinned food. Ketturah swept her blaster over the area as she searched for any signs of a trap or ambush. Nothing. The cans were scattered all over the place like there’d been a struggle. She checked the bed. The blankets lay almost flat, but they had a kind of mussed look that reminded her of her room as a child. Noland had probably been living down here. The only other thing worth noting, apart from some scuff marks on the floor, was a power cord plugged into a

wall socket. Looked like it came from a datapad or something.

 

Whatever it was, Cato must have taken it with him. She’d get it when she caught him, she guessed. And she was going to catch him, there was no mistaking that. Throwing one last look across the room, she scooped up a few tins and started back up the stairs.

 

* * * *

 

She finally caught up to them as darkness approached. Or rather caught up to Cato toting what she assumed was some essential part of Noland in a biohazard bag. She almost felt sorry for the guy- he’d put up a good fight, she had to admit- but shoved it aside. There wasn’t room for that sort of thing in her line of work, and she hadn’t known him. She still had to deal with Cato, though.

 

Crouched on a hill about a quarter mile behind him, she watched through her macrobinoculars. His blue hair and drab clothing blended most of his body into the shadows, but she thought she could make out a bit of a hunch to his shoulders. Serves him right, she thought. This was my kill.

 

He must have felt her watching him, or maybe just caught the noise of something on the prairie, because he turned to look back. For a moment it seemed like he was looking right at her and she almost stopped breathing, but then he looked away and continued his trek.

 

She put down the binoculars and let out a long sigh. She didn’t want to kill him, but he wasn’t going to give up this

bounty with much less. She sure wouldn’t. Perhaps if she could catch him while he was asleep? But no, he’d probably bring the goods into that tent of his, and there was no way she could sneak inside an enclosed structure, take something, and leave without waking him up. Hell, she wasn’t even sure he’d stop to rest tonight, not if he knew she was on his tail.

 

Cato’s head disappeared behind a bluff and she stood up and scrambled down the slope. At least there was one consolation: he didn’t want to kill her either. It wouldn’t have been hard, he would have had to step right over her on the way out. But he’d left her alive and a possible threat to come after him. That meant something, didn’t it?

“Shut up, brain,” she said aloud. Time to stop acting like a sixteen-year-old girl and start acting like what she was: a hunter.

 

Following the path Cato had taken, she tried to keep from making too much noise and stay alert for anything she might trip over. After a while, she realized that the only thing she was accomplishing was bringing them both closer to civilization and people who might hear and come investigate any noise they made. If there was one thing she’d learned was death to hunting, it was curious locals. She’d have to get ahead of him if she wanted to get him unawares.

 

She veered off and as soon as she was sure she was out of earshot broke into a jog. She didn’t remember this spot at all- all the stupid grass still looked the same- but she was pretty sure there would be a ditch or notch between hills soon. They were all over the place here.

 

But wait. How could she know which direction exactly he would walk? She wasn’t sure which direction the town was, or even if he was going that way.

 

This was ridiculous. Ambushes, tracking… what was she, some kind of Imperial spook? Turning around, she headed straight for where she had been, then broke into a jog to catch up.

 

Cato came in sight a few minutes later. He must have heard her, but he didn’t turn around until she was close enough that she could hear him speak at a normal volume. “I thought I’d heard you following me.”

 

She kept her hands on the pair of blasters holstered at her hip. She had no idea what he was planning, but she was a pretty quick draw and he’d have to turn around before he could get a good shot off. “You stole my kill.”

 

“I got there first, so by all rights it belongs to me. Not to mention that you would never have reached him at all without my help. Consider it payment for fishing you out of that ditch and feeding you. Probably for giving you the tip to come this way, too, since I bet you wouldn’t have come this way on your own, at least not this fast.”

 

“I didn’t ask for your help!” She pulled out both pistols and aimed them at his back. Bang, bang, he’d be dead, all she had to do was pull the trigger. Her hands were shaking a little bit, but at this distance it wouldn’t matter.

 

“You needed it, though. And I offered to split the payoff with you, but you wouldn’t take it. It’s your fault!” Slowly, he let the bag slide to the ground and started to turn around.

 

“Watch it,” Ketturah growled. The last thing she needed was for him to pull some sort of stunt and leave her on the ground again.

 

When he was facing her, he stopped. “Why can’t we work together?”

 

She saw the flicker of movement and dropped three shots into him before she had time to think. Cato crumpled to the ground and lay still. For a long moment, the place was unnaturally still, nothing but the cool breeze, the stink of blaster fire, and a distant hooting noise from some animal.

 

Letting out her breath, Ketturah started toward him. “Because,” she said quietly. “I work alone.” But the words didn’t have quite the satisfaction she wanted them to. It wasn’t the first time she had killed someone, but it had always been a target or some other scumbag that hadn’t deserved to live. He’d probably done stuff too, but it felt different somehow.

 

At least she had the bounty. Getting it off-planet would be a little tricky, but she’d figure something out. Maybe Cato had alternate transport that she could steal or something. Picking up the bag, she gave him one more glance.

She should search him, too. She’d bet someone like him had some decent gear she could pick up.

 

As she started opening his pockets, she felt something move. She pulled her hand back instinctively and squinted at the body in the dark. Did his chest just move?

 

Staying as quiet as she could, she pulled out her glowrod and watched. Yes, he had definitely just moved. She sighed. In a way, she was kind of happy, but it was also going to be a massive pain. He was a good ten centimeters taller than she was and much heavier. Dragging him was out of the question, and she wasn’t sure if he would live through that anyway. She couldn’t just call the medics out here. Even if she had holonet service, how exactly was she going to explain the fact that there were two teenagers out here in the middle of nowhere with blasters and a severed head?

 

Ketturah frowned. She’d have to leave him here. But she wasn’t that heartless. Shooting him in the heat of the moment was way different than leaving him to die slowly in the wilderness.

 

Well, she could at least finish searching him while she figured out what she wanted to do. But it didn’t seem quite right to be going through the pockets of a living person, so she’d do his pack first. It was larger than hers, and much heavier. After a minute or two of fiddling with the straps, she pulled it open to find a bag of trail snacks and a datapad in a waterproof bag. Maybe his could access the holonet from here?

 

She powered it on. Thank the stars he hadn’t password protected it, or at least hadn’t turned it off all the way after the last time he used it. Something was wedged into the data port and she tugged at it. A small box popped up on the screen: “do you wish to remove DNA Scanner 4?”

 

A slow grin spread across her face. She’d bet this would save her from having to tote Shar Noland’s head all the way back to the outpost. Pulling it out, she pushed it into her own datapad and dug through the backpack to find some battery packs. After a few minutes, she had figured out how to take a sample and insert it into her own datapad for later. Actually doing it took a fair bit longer- probably why he hadn't done it before he left- but eventually the data was in. She could have probably used his datapad instead, but it was better not to take the chance that her contact would be able to figure out where she was calling from.

 

Now to check on the holonet service. For a long moment, the screen simply read “connecting” and she thought that maybe they were still too far out, but no, there it was. Perfect. She downloaded a map and traced it onto a scrap of paper, then composed a message to emergency services. Please help, I’ve been shot. After setting it on a two hour time delay, she pulled as much as she thought she’d need from his pack and started back towards the town.

* * * *

 

The shuttle seat squeaked as Ketturah settled into it. At least this bounty hadn’t been a total disaster. She’d gotten out without any major damage to herself or her gear and the money from this hunt would put her up quite nicely until the next one as soon as it cleared the bank. Maybe even give her enough to upgrade something. A new datapad would be nice, she figured. That or a blast vest. Never knew when she’d need one of those. Or maybe she could find a really cheap speeder to fix up…

 

A slight wrong move set her foot throbbing again and she swore under her breath. The kolto had been working just fine, but then all that walking had torn it open again. She’d covered it with some stuff from Cato’s med kit, but it still hurt like hell.

 

Cato. Thinking about him made her uncomfortable. She probably could have handled that whole mess better. At least she’d gotten the bounty out of it, and according to the kid she’d given a couple credits to slip into the med center for her, he’d make a full recovery. Maybe she should try and contact him at some point, at least apologize.

But he’d be recovering for a while and when he did, he’d probably never want to see her again. Besides, running away again was easier.

 

A soft ding from her datapad. The payment had come through. She smiled, then looked at the amount. Yes, this would definitely be handy. On the other hand… Pulling up a search engine, she pulled up the med center and found an address. A few minutes later, she had set up a fake messaging account and finished her work. Any reputable med center would be sure to investigate an anonymous donation towards the care of an unidentified patient found shot in the wilderness, but they probably wouldn’t look too far. And even if they did, she’d have ditched this thing long before that.

 

It was something, but deep in her heart, Ketturah knew it wasn’t quite enough.

 

 

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

@Striges- I think I would stick with three prompts, but switch up the cycle, instead of doing them in the same order they were presented originally, assuming there's a way to do that that's not horrendously complicated. (Obviously excepting the ones that are time or season specific)

 

Super happy that the thread's been picking up recently

 

@Jenny- Reading through the entire thread? Wow, props to you

 

@Feldraeth- Thanks, glad you liked my story!

 

Comments:

 

@Feldraeth- RE: Determination- This quest always hits me right in the gut. Glad Roan is trying to find a way to fix the whole mess, and nice bringing in of Braca.

 

RE: Shower Shenanigans- Wait, how do I get credit/blame for this one? Was it that bit with the pond? As a scientist myself, I sympathize with Tharan here, but why doesn't he have a safety shower in his lab! He'll be in trouble if their ship is ever inspected, lol. Poor Consular (whose name I've forgotten)! The secondhand embarrassment is real.

 

RE: Dark Science Drabbles- I like how you incorporated the prompt into your ongoing story by bringing in in a place where rapidly changing perspectives were needed.

 

RE: Breaking and Entering- See, Zul does care about Mako, at least sort of Still enjoying how you interweave all your class's stories. It changes up the dynamic of the game storyline and is something I've been trying to do for years, with mixed success.

 

RE: Settling Debts- You've touched on the main reason resistances often fail: even if their leaders know what they're doing, the people who are running it were usually civilians a few weeks or months ago, and don't have the disciplinary or know-how of trained soldiers. Still, they almost ended up being too much for Vette and Roan. That's what they get for trying to solo a heroic, I guess

 

@Jenny- Sorry, have to skip this one since I still haven't played through Yaven or anything agent-related (I play super slowly and my furthest-along character is my Consular, who's just finished Makeb)

 

@AKHadeed- HIIIIIII! It's nice to see you I haven't seen many authors devote time to exactly how it feels to be a cyborg, so connected into the digital world around you. I like how you focused on all of her extra senses without making her seem non-human. Contrasted with the much more emotional but equally alien processing of a Sith, it works really well.

 

@Divi- Hey, I don't mind a little rule-breaking. Sounds like your agent is a handful!

 

@Oliver- I'm intrigued by Kuratoro. Who is he, what does he want? Why is he willing to follow someone who just became a Sith? Also loved that you go for the Jedi Knight Act 2 ending, one of my favorite bits in the game to explore.

 

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

Wow, a month exactly since I've updated this thread. Sorry, guys. Hopefully I'll be able to do a little more soon, since the semester is ending in a few weeks.

 

Part 76: The Offer

 

 

I pull my arm away before Erilinn can grasp it. Everything inside me says run. The speeder door hasn’t closed yet and I can get back inside the spaceport and catch a real taxi. However mildly helpful the Pureblood Sith has been, he obviously has an agenda and I want no part of it.

 

My fear must show on my face- it has to stop, this lack of control over my own expressions- because he pulls his hand back and says gently “Kiarn, please.” Pulling out his lightsabers, he holds them out to me. “You can keep them as long as we talk, if it makes you feel better. But we have to go now, before someone notices we’re together.”

 

I hesitate. He holds the sabers a little closer to me and says “Have I ever steered you wrong before?”

 

It’s true. His advice hasn’t failed yet. But on the other hand, it’s also all been either harmless information passing, something I would have done already, or suggesting a course of action when it’s impossible to know if the alternate would have turned out any differently.

 

You could go with him, Kiarn. Take his weapons, listen to what he has to say, then kill him while he’s defenseless. I’m sure he’s set up safeguards to keep that from happening, or at least to make sure others know about it if I try it. Then don’t kill him. Just lull him into thinking you’re on his side and use what you’ve learned to bring him down. It’s tempting. And I am curious to see what he wants to talk to me about.

 

Without a word, I take both saber hilts and climb the rest of the way into the speeder. The door shuts behind me and the droid pilot takes off immediately. I narrowly avoid falling into Erilinn’s lap and seat myself across from him on the immaculate black leather seat. Folding my hands over the lightsabers in my lap, I study his face as I wait for him to speak.

 

He begins after a moment, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. Darth Thanaton is most likely having us both followed, and it was the only way I could think of to get you alone for a time without making it obvious that I knew.”

 

I remain silent. The fact that Thanaton is suspicious isn’t new to me, although I didn’t expect that he’d devote the resources to actually having me followed. “And Zash?”

 

“Most likely she has several of his operatives shadowing her as well. And before you ask, I don’t know what she

has you doing. It’s probably better if I don’t know. But you haven’t gone unnoticed. No one is quite bold enough to challenge Zash directly, but attacking a Sith’s apprentice is a common strategy to weaken them without causing as much of a stir.”

 

It’s true. While it’s officially a punishable act to kill an apprentice, in practice, I’m still in a vulnerable position. “I’m well aware of that.”

 

“Are you also aware that one of the primary plotters is Lord Erius, former mentor of Quillan and Karanni Lo’rue and Quillan’s current master?”

 

“No.” That does surprise me, although I suppose it shouldn’t. Whoever was responsible for those two probably has it out for a fair number of people himself. “Thank you for the information. I’ll be careful.” I’ll have to avoid all three of them for the time being, at least until I can figure out what Zash wants and whether I want to be a part of it

or not.

 

He shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. Do you remember what happened to Karanni?” I nod. I couldn’t forget.

“That was his work as well.”

 

Really? “Why?”

 

“She wasn’t particularly lucid when I talked to her, but from what she said and my other sources, she was losing her emotional dependence on him and he was starting to doubt his ability to control her. His goal was to kill or at least cripple her to the point where she was no longer a threat.” He laughs humorlessly. “Although I think he’s just created his most dangerous rival instead.”

 

“So she lived, then?”

 

“Indeed. She’ll be on a respirator for the rest of her life, but as long as she can breathe oxygen-enriched air most of the time, she’ll be fine. Surprisingly enough, Darth Baras even kept her as an apprentice. She left for Balmorra yesterday.”

 

“Balmorra?” I curse myself for betraying my interest. But why is she there?

 

“Yes. Why?”

 

“Just curious.”

 

He nods, although we both know he doesn’t believe me. “But I came to talk about you, not her. What are you planning to do about Lord Erius?”

 

I frown. “Why would I tell you even if I did know?”

 

“Because I’m offering to help you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“More or less the same reason I did it back at the Academy. You don’t last long in Sith politics without allies of some kind, and I don’t have many. I haven’t been a Lord for very long, and most of that time was on Korriban. It may have left be behind on the Dromund Kaas social scene, but it did give me a very good impression of the most recent class of apprentices. Of the ten that graduated, you’re the only one I would consider both powerful enough to go somewhere and stable enough not to kill me without good reason.”

 

I blink, taken aback. “Thank you. I think.”

 

“Don’t let it go to your head. With Quillan, Karanni, and Tyrin as alternates, it doesn’t take too much.” He flashes me a smile, genuine this time and full of the slightly pointed white teeth Purebloods are known for. Is he teasing me?

 

“And what’s in it for me?”

 

“Protection, for one thing.”

 

“I can take care of myself.”

 

“Yes, but you’re still an apprentice. I might still be a pretty low-ranking Lord, but I have access to more circles than you do without being invited. It’s hard to protect yourself without knowing what you’re protecting yourself from.”

 

“I’ve done alright so far.”

 

“But you didn’t know about Erius. And I can find out things you can’t, as you can for me.”

 

I lean back. “What are you proposing?” My hands are sweating, making Erilinn’s lightsaber handles slippery.

 

“That we form an alliance. I’ll pass on any information that might benefit you, and you’ll do the same for me. I’ll also work to prevent anyone from finding out what Darth Zash is doing and direct attention away from you as much as possible. In return, you’ll team up with me to take out Lord Erius.”

 

He’s tempting you, Kiarn. Offering you an alliance to tempt you into ignoring his real agenda.

 

I should say no. I don’t know nearly enough about this man to form any sort of deal with him. Even if he’s one hundred percent serious, which I highly doubt, I don’t want to rely on anyone. It makes me weak, and I’ve displayed too much weakness already.

 

Yet on the other hand, I need allies if I’m going to make it anywhere beyond friendless apprentice. Even Zash, who couldn’t care less what anyone thinks of her, I’m sure, has a group of other Sith she tolerates, and Lord Vendistat tended to have the same people at his parties. The more image-obsessed Sith can have hangers-on that number in the hundreds. Surely having at least one person who sees me for more than a moment is alright?

 

He watches me consider. “And if you’re wondering, this would be a strictly business partnership. No personal or… romantic obligation on either side.”

 

“Excellent.” I hadn’t even thought of it from that angle, although the reassurance isn’t entirely unwelcome.

 

Turning to the window, Erilinn plays with the ring in his lip. I wish I had a bit longer to study him before I made my choice. But I doubt the offer is going to be open for very long. “I’ll do it.” I may regret it later, I may end up stabbing him in the back next week, but for now, I’ll do it.

 

He smiles and reaches out to shake my hand. It’s warm and he has a firm grip. “Wonderful.”

 

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

Just one more comment!

 

@h_webber- Awww! I really like Andronikos and don't see enough of him on this thread I don't know that I've seen you on this thread before? If so, welcome, and either way, I'm looking forward to hearing more.

 

Today I'm posting the penultimate chapter of I Work Alone!

 

Title: I Work Alone (Part 5)

Prompt: Seven Deadly Sins: Pride

Characters: Ketturah Attridies (Bounty Hunter)

Length: 1,100 words

Spoilers: None

 

 

For a few long minutes, nothing happened, and Ketturah wondered if she would have to try another way to get to Shar Noland. Which would, of course, be ten times harder now that he knew she was here and was apparently suspicious of her. That, or he wasn’t home, but what kind of person camped out in a backwater hideaway from Hutt bounty hunters just headed out shopping?

 

But no, now she heard a noise from inside the house and a moment later, the door opened a crack. “What do you want?” said a gruff male voice.

 

“I got lost trying to walk to town,” replied Ketturah, trying to sound as pathetic as possible. “It’s been a day and a half and I haven’t had anything to eat and I’m so tired…”

 

“Wait here.” The door shut and Ketturah remained on the doorstep. The urge to reach for her weapons was overwhelming, but he probably had cameras somewhere. If he got even a hint something was wrong, he might not come out at all, or the next time the door opened she might find a disruptor pistol in her face. So she just

waited uncomfortably for what felt like hours.

 

Finally, the door opened a bit wider and a thin hand reached out with a ration bar. “Here you go.”

 

It was all the chance she needed. Grabbing his wrist, she braced with her feet and pulled as she reached for a

blaster with the other hand. Dead-or-alive bounties really were easier.

 

He pulled back, stronger than she had expected, jerking her off her feet. Before she even really knew what she was doing, she was scrambling through the door before it slid shut. Nolend disappeared around a corner just as she pulled herself upright and brought her blaster to level.

 

“Firfeck,” she growled, and took off after him. The room itself was dark, lit only by a single window high in the wall, and filled with junk. Ketturah paused to check for an ambush before rounding the corner, but her target had already made it deeper into the house.

 

The place was much bigger than it looked from the outside, she realized. Somehow, the unimpressive building had a whole maze of hallways and weird rooms inside. She moved quickly through them, searching.

 

As she entered the first room, a solid thud shook the place and vibrated in her boots. It sounded like it was coming from below her. Where were the stairs in this place?

 

A few more minutes of searching lead her to what she was looking for: a full-on blast door in the middle of a house that said nothing so much as “hoarding grandparents”. She started towards them, only to scramble backwards as fast as she could.

 

With a mechanical whirr, the pair of autoturrets on either side of the door came to life and spat a stream of blaster fire. One grazed her leg and she stumbled. Diving behind a faded armchair, Ketturah tried to slow her breathing and ignore the throbbing burn that brought tears to her eyes and threatened to make her sob.

 

“OK, break time’s over,” she muttered, risking a glance. The turrets slowly rotated on their bases, searching for her. Visual targeting, then. Something fancier, or even manual, wouldn’t have lost her as soon as she ducked behind a flimsy barrier. Well, that would be easy, then. She fished around on the floor and seized the first thing she could get her hands on, a soft, damp pile of something that sent up a cloud of dust that made her want to sneeze.

Screwing up her face to avoid the noise that would bring, she tossed it across the gap between her hiding place and the next wall.

 

Like always, the automatic guns sprayed red plasma at the projectile, but as they turned away from her, Ketturah popped around the corner and unleashed a volley of her own. By the time the turret’s slow AI had noticed her, the first one was already out of commission and the second wasn’t far behind. She grinned. This was too easy. Her arm still hurt, but Shar Noland was almost in her hands.

 

A crash in the distance, then she heard the sound of some of the junk that filled most of the rooms falling over.

Was it just the breeze, or someone else in the house? She crouched still for a moment, listening over the sound of her own breathing. Nothing. Well, even if there was, she was wasting too much time here. And she could take on two just as easily as one, right?

 

Wincing as her arm brushed against the edge of the chair, she walked over to the door. Locked, of course. Trying her uninjured shoulder against it, she found it solid. The mess up here made more sense if Noland had spent his entire time here making this bolt-hole. But he obviously didn’t have as much tech savvy as he did time and dedication. The fasteners that held the door to the frame were already starting to strain. All it would take is a couple good hits from a grav-ram and it would pop out like long-lost relatives when an Alderaaninan noble died.

 

But she didn’t have a grav-ram, and she probably wasn’t strong enough to get it on her own. Not without hurting her other arm. Maybe if she could find something in all this mess that was heavy enough to hit it with-

 

Before her brain really registered the sound, she was already rolling into a crouch and training her pistol on whoever was coming up behind her. The figure raised his hands and a blaster rifle clattered to the floor. “Cato, what the hell?”

 

“You left without saying goodbye. Thought I’d catch up to wish you good luck.” He smiled warmly at her, then his expression hardened until it was deader than any she’d seen on some hunters twice his age. “Besides. I’m still on this bounty.” A quick motion, and something flashed in the air between them. Ketturah jumped out of the way, but found herself coughing as thick smoke billowed from the tiny capsule on the ground. “And if you don’t want to work with me, you’ll have to get out of my way.”

 

Something in the smoke was making her dizzy. She tried to grab something to keep her balance, but found herself sitting on her butt and trying desperately not to throw up. Black spots grew over her eyes in steady throbs. “I really wanted to work with you,” Cato’s voice continued. “And I had fun last night. But I want this too much to stand by and let you get it.”

 

As the darkness filled her vision and she fell backwards, she was dimly aware of Cato stepping over her and heading for the security door.

 

 

[The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!]

And I'm back! Had an excellent spring break trip with friends and a personal trip that cut into writing time significantly, not to mention out of town guests.

 

Comments:

 

 

@Alaurin- Yeah, I feel like intra-Council romance is a bad idea (at least in public) for a number of reasons. In fact, any public Sith romance and half the private ones are a bad idea. Glad they're both on board with the secret idea, it shows they're pretty sensible and mature about it. Poor Rhianna! Makes my heart ache thinking about all the stuff she went through (especially since I have a friend with the same name)

 

@Feldraeth- RE: A Quiet Night In- Love the simile with Vette's favorite socks. I totally relate to her actually doing more work to avoid having to get up, too. Nice little slice-of-life on the Warrior's ship. I kind of see Vette as one of what my family called the Disneyland Aunts, that aunt who doesn't have any kids of her own and likes to spoil you instead. Not rich necessarily, just the kind of person who lets you stay up late and watch movies and takes out out to eat at your favorite restaurants (I had three of them, my mother had two). Very unique take, and I like it!

 

RE: Epilogue- I always wondered what the aftermath of the flashpoints is for other characters besides our own. I'm glad to see the general survived this run at least. I always liked him. Intriguing! Also like your Satele. I've never really been able to get a good sense of her character.

 

RE: Partnerships- That's an even darker take on the cage dancers we see in the Nexus room! Lol at the reference to the agent's pants. I don't know why medium armor seems to entirely consist of tights (actually I do, it's massively easier to animate), but it makes me question whether everyone is wearing dancer's belts constantly. Also like the fact that Mako and the hunter actually take time to formalize their relationship.

 

RE: Best-laid Plans- I have no idea how plausible their tactical discussion is here, but it was interesting, and that's what counts! And I'd advise the team to enjoy it while it lasts. It's not every day you get the way cleared for you plus a major distraction and handy excuse for anything killed, broken, or missing!

 

RE: The Shorts- The Tharan one was my favorite Also, how on earth is Superman "Adult only?" I mean, I haven't seen it in a while, but...

 

@LadyJean- I haven't read the rest of your Maldeka the Kid stories, so I'll have to get back to you when I've finished them.

 

 

 

[She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale]

Part 75: Back to Kaas

 

 

Several hours later, we reach the Solace and I stumble into my cabin and collapse on the bed. My lungs burn with the lingering effects of the chemicals I’ve inhaled and my head hurts. I hope I haven’t damaged anything I’ll need later. I’ve seen Sith lords wearing oxygen masks after various injuries have left them unable to breath normally, but I’m not prepared to hand control of my body over to a machine like that.

 

For a while I lay there, not sleeping, not moving, just inhaling the clean air and staring at the subtle variations in the shadows on the ceiling. I did it, I suppose. The relic Zash wanted is here, lying on the bed next to me. It seems like an absurdly simply thing for so much work and death. And I still have no idea what she actually intends to do with it.

 

Finally, I shake off the exhaustion and go to the holoterminal in the main area. Khem isn’t around that I can see, but I can feel his presence somewhere towards the back of the ship. Zash will want me to call her first thing, but before I press the auto-call for her, I raise the base in Sobrik. An officer I don’t recognize answers. “Sobrik Base, this is- Oh. Greetings, my lord.”

 

“Hello.” I’ve certainly ruined their opinion of me already with everything I’ve done there, but no reason to worsen it.

 

“Your wish is my command, Lord.”

 

“Are you still holding Dr. Tyrek?”

 

“As far as I’m aware, milord. I will confirm.” A brief pause while the hologram gazes at what I presume is his computer screen, then he looks up. “Yes. He is still in custody in one of the labs.”

 

“Excellent. Release him.”

 

The officer blinks and swallows. “What?”

 

“Release him. Let him go. Give him the choice of continuing to work for the Empire or being allowed to go on his way.”

 

“Ye-yes, milord. And if he doesn’t want to work for us?”

 

“Then don’t force him. Turn him loose and allow him to do as he wishes. Do you understand?”

 

“Of course, but-“

 

“Then see it done. And I will check to make sure my command was followed. Thank you, soldier.”

 

I cut the transmission off and the hologram disappears. It’s certainly nice to be obeyed more or less without question, although I will have to remember to check up on things later. I’m not leaving more collateral damage on this planet than I already have.

 

Next, I press the button to send a message to Darth Zash. The shifting shapes that signal a call going through remain for nearly half a minute before a recorded voice says “The party you have tried to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message, or try again at a later time.”

 

I end the call. She’ll be able to see that I was trying to reach her without a message detailing my exact location and plans, and even though I don’t trust her, whatever she’s involved in is obviously shady enough that it puts her in danger. It might threaten me too.

 

It would help if I knew what she wanted to do with this thing. I’ve heard stories about Sith relics killing any non-Force sensitive who touched them and driving freighter crews insane. I would like to know if there are any precautions I should be taking with it. For now, I settle for wrapping it in a shirt and setting it carefully in a locker in passenger cargo bay. I at least trust Khem not to try anything foolish with it while we’re in hyperspace, and I don’t think I should be sleeping too near it, just in case. After checking over the ship for anything out of place, I climb into the cockpit and prepare to head back to Drommund Kaas.

 

Two days later, I land the ship in the Kaas City spaceport. I’m rather proud of how little I rely on the autopilot to get into the landing bay, despite it being only my second attempt. It’s raining, as usual, and lightning streaks across the sky as Khem and I head for the shuttle pad. A cloaked figure leans against the wall next to the speeder droid.

 

As I approach, he peels himself off the wall and walks toward me. I consider coming back later, or even walking to Kaas City, but dismiss the thought quickly. I stopped being afraid of strangers when I learned that the biggest monsters were the ones you knew, and even if someone does mean me harm, acting like prey is the worst thing I can do.

 

The figure pulls back his hood, revealing the red skin and gold facial jewelry of Lord Erilinn. “Hello, Kiarn.”

 

“What are you doing here?” I say, surprise making me blunt.

 

“Waiting for the taxi. The same as you, I’m sure.”

 

That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I would have believed the first time was a chance encounter, perhaps it even was, but to be here at the exact moment I return to Dromund Kaas? “You haven’t been waiting too long, I hope?”

 

“Not too bad.” He looks into the distance. “Here it comes now, I think.”

 

Sure enough, I can hear the whine of the speeder engines faintly between the thunderclaps, growing steadily louder. “How did your business off world go?” I’m sure he won’t reveal any information that would actually be useful to me, at least not now, but everything is a potentially valuable tidbit if I remember it until it’s relevant.

 

He shrugs. “Uneventful, almost mind-numbingly so. But Alderaan is pretty, so that’s something.”

 

“I’ve never been there.”

 

The speeder settles itself down on the landing pad and Erilinn walks toward it. “You might have the chance soon.

The Empire has started a push to convince them to leave the Republic and declare allegiance to them. They already have the support of at least one of the major noble houses.”

 

I follow. The development is interesting, particularly for as strongly Republic as Alderaan has typically been, but I lost all track of galactic politics while I was at the Academy and have yet to catch up. Not that I was particularly on top of things to begin with. Being a slave tends to limit your exposure to the machinations of the highest levels of government. “Perhaps I will.”

 

I’m halfway inside before I register that this is not the standard public taxi speeder. The interior is too clean and the seats are upholstered in leather. My face burns as I realize that I must have climbed into the wrong speeder. I stammer an apology and start to back out.

 

Erilinn shakes his head and reaches for my arm. “Stay inside, Kiarn. We need to talk.”