She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale

[Mirdthestrill]

Merry Christmas, everyone! I suppose I should have themed this update somehow, but I write my stuff several days to a week before posting it and had no idea it would go up today. So no Christmas, just Sith.

 

I did get a Star Wars T-shirt, though!

 

Part 71: The Major's Son

 

 

I lean against the wall, panting. Getting into the facility where Major Bessiker’s son hasn’t been easy, and I’m tired. Somewhere back a few levels down, I missed a blaster bolt and I can still feel the heat of it throbbing in my arm. My mouth is dry, and even with the food the shuttle that dropped me off brought, my hands are shaking. Wherever this boy is, he’d better be close. I’m about to call the mission from sheer exhaustion. At least this level seems a little emptier than the previous ones have been.

 

After a few minutes, I stand up and continue towards the periodic bursts of Dark Side energy that tell me exactly where my target is. Finally, I reach a door that’s almost directly next to them. It’s locked multiple times and probably alarmed, too. I look around for any clue as to how to get in. There is none. Curse the Republic actually being competent for once. I suppose they’d have to be if they were going to hold a Sith for very long, even a fresh apprentice, but it’s still infuriating. And while it’s always possible to simply cut through the door anyway, I’ve actually managed to avoid setting off any actual alarms this time, and I’d like to keep it that way.

 

Still, I’m not totally without resources. Willing myself to disappear into the wall, I sit down to wait. I’ve gotten to the point where I can basically stay invisible infinitely as long as I don’t try to move or do anything else, but it’s definitely not easy. I have a feeling they’ll send someone to check on him soon, though.

 

Sure enough, less than a half-hour later, a trio of guards comes marching down the hallway and stops in front of the door. I watch as one of them keys in the code and slides his thumb across the scanner. One of the others is alert, looking around for signs of trouble, but the third is staring at a spot uncomfortably close to my hiding spot.

He turns to whisper something to the one operating the door and I hold my breath. The door isn’t open yet, if I reveal my presence then I’ll have to get in another way and have wasted a lot of time doing it. Yet here it goes, sliding open with the typical whoosh of hydraulics.

 

In the instant their attention is distracted by the movement, I strike, activating my lightsaber and sending it through two of their bodies. Before the other one has time to draw his weapon, I have him pinned against the wall.

 

I half-drag him through the door before it slides shut again and breathe a sigh of relief. I’m inside, and no one appears to be here. In front of me is a hallway, both sides punctuated with large doorways covered in force fields that glow bluish-purple. I turn my attention to the soldier. He’s the same one who spotted me, and I recognize something in him: untamed, unconscious, but this man is definitely a Force-sensitive. He looks terrified.

 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I tell him irritably, although I’ll be the first one to admit he has no good reason to believe me. “I just need you to open one of the cells for me.”

 

“Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen.” He will if I press him enough, I’m sure of it, but I’d rather not resort to torture. It’s barbaric, and the Sith Academy was less than a year ago. I can still remember how it feels. That one

time back on Drommund Kaas was enough.

 

I start lightning jumping from fingertip to fingertip. “I mean it. All I want to collect what I came for and go.”

 

“And what might that be? Another one of your kind?”

 

“Yes, actually. And believe me, I don’t want him free any more than you do. But my higher ups need him, and I’m

not going to get anywhere by ignoring them.” The first few cells are empty and the third has a woman in it. She

looks at me as I pass, but doesn’t move to get up. Part of me wonders if I should free her, but I have no idea what

she’s done or why she’s in there, and I don’t have time to figure it out.

 

“I can’t let you just free a Sith Lord.”

 

“Lord? Is that what he told you?” Typical, but stupid. Who in their right mind inflates their own power to people who

just captured you? If anything, you downplay how much you’re capable of so they’re more likely to let down their

guard.

 

“Yes.”

 

I laugh. “He’s just an apprentice.” I don’t mention that I’m an apprentice as well, there’s no need to give him anything about me whatsoever, but this whole situation is just too ridiculous not to mention.

 

“Oh. That would explain a lot.” He’s not fighting me too much, which is a relief. I’m pretty sure I would have trouble physically restraining him while walking without cutting off a limb.

 

Finally, we reach what I can feel in the Force is the correct cell. I can tell by the way the man’s expression changes that he knows it is too. Inside, a man lies on the floor, back to us. He stands at our approach and walks toward us with an impressive swagger for someone sitting in a cell. He’s probably a few years younger than I am and about average build, with dark hair and a beard that looks rather absurd with his features. Some people should not have facial hair, and I think the younger Bessiker might be one of them. His robes are elaborate and well-fitted.

 

He searches my face. “You- you- my father sent you, didn’t he? He must have gotten my distress signal. I guess the old fool’s still good for something, after all.”

 

“You might be surprised.” I may be frustrated with the major, but I don’t care for how his son is talking about him.

Parents who actually care about you are a rarity in this universe, and you shouldn’t forget that if you’re fortunate enough to have them. “What were you doing here, anyway?” His father didn’t seem to know what he was after, but based on the sound, it might have been a holocron. I’m not sure what exactly Zash wants me to find here, but even if this isn’t it, I’m sure she’ll be happy with a bonus. Or I might just keep it myself. There’s no reason for her to know any of this happened.

 

He laughs. “Not visiting my old man, that’s for sure.”

 

The Force-sensitive starts trying to pull away, and I tighten my grip. That’s enough to get him to stop. “Well, then?”

 

“My master sent me to retrieve a holocron the Republic dug up some place or other.”

 

“You mean that thing we pulled out of the old museum? It’s useless. Even our Jedi says so.”

 

“I have it now. All I have to do is get out of this… place.”

 

“Well, you’re doing a wonderful job so far,” I remark. “Now tell me about this holocron. Why does your master need it?”

 

He snorts. “I thought you might be smarter than you looked. It’s not the holocron itself that’s special- boring Jedi secrets. No, it’s a map to a powerful weapon of the Dark Side that’s supposed to be hidden somewhere on Balmorra.”

 

“Oh?” I thought he might be smarter than he looked. But I’d bet credits that the weapon he’s talking about is Zash’s artifact. How many Sith relics are buried here, really?

 

“And now that you’re here to free me, it’s mine for the taking. So hurry up.”

 

“About that… Give me the holocron.”

 

“What? No.”

 

“I’m not letting you out until you do.” I may have promised to get him out as a service to his father, but nothing says I have to be nice about it.

 

“Is that supposed to scare me? I may be injured, but I’m still Sith. It’s mine, I found it. And I’m worth twice what you are in a fight. Look at you. You barely know how to use that lightsaber. Probably the bastard apprentice to some two-credit Sith who couldn’t find anyone else. You-“

 

“Open the door,” I say to my prisoner.

 

“What?”

 

“Open the door and get out of the way.” My voice is quiet, but I can feel it vibrating the room with the power of the Force. It must scare him too, because he complies and scurries into the corner of the room.

 

The younger Bessiker stops his rant to watch. As soon as the field dies in front of him, he stretches out his hand and I feel the lightsaber tug at my belt. “Is this how you treat your rescuer?” I say, putting my hand over it before it can move.

 

“Rescuer? Ha! I can take care of myself, without my father’s help and certainly without yours. Now let me pass or I’ll-“

 

He breaks off again as I draw my lightsaber and let the red blade snap to life. “Call me a bastard again. Tell me I have no idea how to use this lightsaber and insult Darth Zash.” The point hovers just below his throat. He swallows hard. “Well?”

 

“I’m- I’m sorry, m’lady.” He drops to his knees. Pathetic. “I had no idea.”

 

“I’m sure. Now where is the holocron?”

 

“Right here.” He reaches into the folds of his robe and holds out a small cube. It certainly looks like other Jedi holocrons I’ve seen pictures of. Tentatively, I reach out to take hold of it. A burst of shock races through my body and I stumble backwards. Bessiker’s son is up and running, sprinting towards the door. I send a blast of vivid purple lightning after him and he falls prone.

 

He’s just rolling over as I reach him and stand one foot planted on either side of him. I’ve seen all I need to.

“You’re nothing.” His face is pasty white and his hair and beard stick out at crazy angles. The dark, crazy eyes keep staring at me long after the lightsaber has sliced through his chest, after I’ve picked up the burned out shell of the holocron, until I push his eyelids closed with my thumb.

 

The man I dragged in here stands up slowly. “You- you killed him.”

 

“I did.” I’m sorry, for the major’s sake, although the galaxy really is better off without the likes of him. “He deserved it.”

 

“What about me?”

 

“What about you?”

 

“Are you going to kill me too?”

 

“Why would I? You’re free to go.” His eyes widen and I gesture toward the door. “Don’t tell anyone you helped me, and I’d avoid the Jedi if you don’t want to get pulled into their cult.”

 

“What?”

 

I ignore him and hurry out. I’m not looking forward to returning to Sobrik, but there’s no avoiding it. The man watches me go. It’s only after I’ve made it halfway down the next hallway that I realize I never got his name.

 

 

 

Note:

 

Kiarn's original plan was to let him go, but his continued scorn of her attempts to help, combined with the fact that some of those jabs hit a little close to the mark, ended up pushing her over the edge.

 

[bright_ephemera]

Ah, the Bessiker whelp. Somehow I doubt he attracted many mourners.

[RikeG]

I really liked Bessiker and I would have let the wannabe-sith son live if he had known to keep his mouth shut, at least for one minute. I felt bad for the major afterwards. But really, I feel with Kiarn. Edited December 27, 2015 by RikeG
Typos

[saywhatnow]

recently watched the latest movie and just wanted to say

 

this is much better than the most recent movie

[Mirdthestrill]

Normally, I just wait until I'm ready to post the next installment to respond to commments on my writing, but I decided that it couldn't wait this time.

 

@bright- well, there is at least one person who will mourn him...

 

@rike- exactally

 

@saywhatnow- I just wanted you to know that your comment made my entire day, I probably smiled for a good ten minutes Thank you so much, and glad you're enjoying the story!

Edited January 1, 2016 by Mirdthestrill

[Mirdthestrill]

Part 72: Consequences

 

 

I walk into the base in Sobrik, dead tired. Although I did have the chance to recuperate a bit on the shuttle ride back and walking to the spaceport to pick up Khem, I’ve still been fighting all night and into this morning. I’m exhausted, hungry, and frustrated. Hopefully I can get Zash’s artifact quickly and get back to Dromund Kaas. I’ve had enough of this planet.

 

As soon as I step inside, I know something is wrong. I’ve been with the Sith long enough to expect various reactions from people: fear, awe, admiration, even buried resentment or blatant fawning. But this is different. The people here hate me. I can see it in the way they look at me without actually looking, the way their shoulders are tensed, the swirling clouds of Force energy that float off them. I’ve spent enough time in my life doing it, the signs are unmistakable.

 

I know what I did, of course, but that doesn’t make it any easier to walk through a gauntlet of people who wish you were dead. Why are they so upset, anyway? It’s not like any of them knew him personally.

Khem starts to ask me a question and I wave for him to be silent. I’ll explain when we leave. We head towards the command room.

 

The major is there, sitting at his desk and doing something on his computer. His face is frozen into an expressionless mask and he doesn’t notice my approach. I stand there for moment, waiting for him to look up, before clearing my throat awkwardly.

 

His eyes come up to meet my own and instantly, a change snaps over him. Leaping to his feet, he scrambles backward and grabs for his blaster. “Stay back, Sith! Don’t- don’t touch me!”

 

I remain still. “I’m not going to hurt you, Major. I’m sorry about what I did.”

 

“Sorry? Hah. We had an agent in the outpost who told me everything. You killed him, cut him down while he lay helpless.”

 

With almost any Sith in the galaxy, he would be dead already, but I force myself to remain calm. The man is grieving, he can’t help himself. That’s no excuse, Kiarn. I ignore the urge. “Your son refused my help, mocked me, then attempted to harm me when I released him. I hardly think I was over-harsh.” But I was. I could have simply incapacitated him and brought him back, or I could have knocked him out and left him to find his own way out. I might have needed to kill him anyway, but at least I would have tried.

 

Bessiker continues shouting. “You enjoyed it, though, didn’t you? Didn’t you!”

 

“Don’t do this to yourself. Please.”

 

“He was a good boy, and he- he was my son. Why?”

 

He would never believe me, but I still feel compelled to say “Because he would have done exactly the same to me without a second thought.”

 

“No, no he wouldn’t. You’re a murderer.” He’s crying now, tears running down his face in streams, face twisted, voice harsh.

 

“Major, calm down. I swear, I’ll get what I came for and leave forever, and you’ll never have to see me again. But we both know you can’t win this fight. Do you want your wife to lose both of you in one day?” It’s a bit of a gamble that his wife is still in the picture- I don’t recall him mentioning her- but it’s the only thing I can think of quickly.

I have no idea if the guess was accurate, as doesn’t reply. His expression, if it were possible, hardens even more, and he brings his blaster up to fire. My lightsaber activates just in time to stop the first shot and it bounces harmlessly to the floor.

 

Behind me, Khem roars and charges forward. “Stop!” I scream. He checks for an instant, long enough for me to continue. “I’m giving you one last chance, Major. Stop now, and I’ll leave.”

 

In answer, he continues shooting, still at me. Khem finishes his approach and swings his vibroblade. He jumps back, but his attention is still focused on me. The hate comes off him in a torrent as he backs up to the wall. Khem swings again. This time, the blow connects and the eddying currents of emotion in the room cut off abruptly. Bessiker slumps to the floor.

 

“Goodbye, Major,” I say quietly. “I hope you find your son wherever you end up.” I doubt he will, though. Most likely, death is more like putting out a candle than anything else. One last flicker and you’re done. Besides. Even if there is something beyond this, I’m sure the major and his son won’t be in the same place.

 

“He was weak,” says Khem as he returns to my side.

 

“Thank you for your assistance.” I didn’t even have to do anything.

 

A pause. “You are welcome, little Sith.” Together, we leave the room. I don’t know what to make of him sometimes. Most of the time, all I feel is sullen resentment at being bound to me, but at times I almost thing he cares about me. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part. I need to find someone I can confide in quickly, before loneliness starts making me reckless.

 

But for now, I’ll just keep going like I always do. There’s always another task, so it works pretty well. Most of the time.

 

I spot someone who looks like they might hold enough rank to know what’s going on scurrying through the hallways and use the Force to halt their progress. It’s the tech from last time I was here, the one with the red hair. Her eyes are nearly big enough to crowd out the rest of her face and her freckles stand out sharply against skin gone colorless with fear. “What- what do you want, ma’am?”

 

“Just a question. The major was having a scientist work on something for me. Do you know where it might be?”

 

Her eyes drop. “I’m not allowed to tell you, milord. Major’s orders. I’m sorry.”

 

She’s brave, I’ll give her that. “The major is dead. I’m the authority here now.”

 

“Dead? What-“ She breaks off, then looks up again with tears in her eyes. “No, don’t tell me. It’s in the safe in his office. He said it was too useful to throw out.”

 

“Thank you.” I release the hold on her body and head back towards the major’s office. I don’t look back to see what she does.

 

The safe itself doesn’t take Khem and me long to find, simply set into the wall in an out-of-the-way corner. I know next to nothing about safes, but this looks like a decent one. I bet it would take a hacker a while to break into it. Fortunately, I don’t think they made it to resist lightsabers. As far as I know, there’s only a few materials in the galaxy that one won’t cut through eventually, and they’ll all too rare or expensive for field outpost security. Careful not to cut too deep and damage any of the contents, I open a hole in the door. Predictably, alarms start up as soon as I do, but everyone knows I’m here already. The few soldiers who do show up leave as soon as they notice me crouched in front of the safe. When the edges have stopped glowing, I reach in.

 

It seems like most of the contents are sheets of flimsiplast, but there is one larger object, which I grasp and pull out. A small bottle, shorter than my hand is long and about three centimeters in diameter, filled with a sickly green-brown liquid. This must be the serum.

 

Standing, I hurry out of the base and return to my ship. I should go to the pit right away, but I need to be alone for a while.

 

 

[Mirdthestrill]

Very sorry it took me so long to update, writing has been a bear lately and I had to drop to preferred for a while (nothing serious at all, just decided to spend my sub money on Christmas presents for my friends instead)

 

Part 73: The Pit

 

 

I haven’t had it very long, but already the interior of the Solace calms me down. My room is probably stock, but the slightly purplish grey walls, minimalistic black furniture, and dim lighting make me feel safer than anything else has in a long time. Perhaps it’s simply the fact that this is the first time in my life I’ve had a place that I own. Zash could still take it away if she saw fit, but it’s registered in my name and as far as the Empire is concerned, it’s mine.

 

As soon as I step inside, I lock the door, toss my lightsaber and overtunic onto the bed, and sink into the corner. What am I doing? I overstepped with Bessiker’s son, I know. But what should I have done? And then Bessiker himself. There probably won’t be any major consequences for me legally. The only reason I’m on my mission in the first place is because a Sith can do pretty much anything she wants to Force-blinds with impunity. The guilt is another matter. A dull ache heaping onto everything else I’ve done in my life and weighing down on my shoulders. At least Khem was there. I don’t know that I could have killed him myself.

 

Yes you could, Kiarn. Admit it. You enjoy the killing. The rush of adrenaline, finally holding power over other’s lives as well as your own.

 

Sighing, I rest my chin on my knees and stare into the shadows next to the dresser. I can’t keep getting into situations like this. I have to create some sort of code or set of rules for myself, so that next time I don’t end up doing even more damage.

 

Where to start? No killing, unless the person is actively trying to kill me at the moment. Torture is out, always. The trials were recent enough that I haven’t forgotten how it feels. No harming children, no poisoning people, and never betray an ally.

 

If I can keep to that, I’ll at least be better than ninety percent of the Sith out there. And maybe, just maybe, I can finally feel clean in a way I haven’t since Korriban.

 

I don’t realize I’ve dozed off until I wake with a start. The room looks the same, but the chrono is two hours ahead

of where it was last time I looked and my legs and back hurt from sitting in the same position too long. Standing slowly, I stretch and look around for my gear. I slide the overtunic on over my dress and buckle the belt, attaching the lightsaber to it. Inside one of the pouches, I can feel the vial of liquid I had Bessiker’s people create for me.

 

I pull it out. It’s the same green-brown that it was back at the base, although a closer look reveals a slight shimmer to it, as well. I pull the cap out and am immediately assaulted by the smell of chemicals. Whatever is in here, it’s nasty. My nose starts to run. Better hope it’s actually what Dr. Tyrek says it is, or I could be in for a lot of pain. And I’d like to avoid visits to a medic if at all possible.

 

Leaving my bedroom and heading out of the Solace, I call for Khem to follow me. I’ve half considered sending him down instead, but as he lumbers out of one of the crew quarters, I decide against it. His hide may be far tougher than my own skin and his body better built to withstand all sorts of battering, but I’m pretty sure the doctor was planning on me using this stuff. Dashade physiology is probably different enough that it wouldn’t work the same way on him, and I don’t have enough to justify a trial. Besides, I’m the one who knows what I’m looking for.

 

We take a speeder to the Imperial outpost nearest the vault we’re looking for and continue on foot. The outpost’s commanding officer seems uncertain about letting us leave until he catches a glimpse of my lightsaber. After that, he wishes us the best of luck and offers us the full use of his troops, which I decline.

 

A few colicoids try to make a meal of us along the way- at least I think that’s why they’re so aggressive- but we fend them off without too much trouble and make it to the vault just as the sun is setting. At one time, probably only a man-door was visible from above, with the rest of the structure buried under the plains, but the bombing in the area has cracked it wide open, leaving a gaping, jagged hole in the landscape surrounded by clouds of noxious-smelling gas. As we approach, I fight the urge to vomit and pull my hood over my nose and mouth to try and block out some of the smell. A scratch on my face that I didn’t notice before starts to burn. Behind me, I hear Khem coughing.

 

We reach the edge of the vault and I carefully lean over, looking into the depths. The fumes are making me

lightheaded, but I can see what looks like a ladder down one side that might lead to a catwalk.

 

“This place is dangerous,” says Khem. “Best be careful, little sith.”

 

I turn to look at him. “Khem, did you just say something nice to me?”

 

He makes a grating noise that I think is supposed to be Dashade laughter. “I do not want to have to retrieve you if you get stuck.”

 

I allow myself a small smile and pull out the serum. “Hopefully you won’t need to.” It most likely smells the same as it did on my ship, but with everything else overwhelming my senses, I don’t really notice. I swallow hard and drink it.

 

Despite the smell, it doesn’t taste bad at all. In fact, it’s just blandly sweet, with not much to it at all. It’s so unexpected that I nearly choke. But I manage to keep from spitting it everywhere and drink the rest. For a moment, nothing happens and I wonder if Tyrek has failed. But no, something does feel slightly different. As I wait, the sting of the fumes is gradually lessening, and before fifteen minutes have passed, I can lean over the edge without feeling the slightest bit of nausea. The smell is still there, though. I suppose that would have been too much to ask.

 

“I’m going down,” I say to Khem, putting my foot on the first rung of the ladder. He nods and I start to climb down.

 

Even protected from the toxins, the decent still isn’t pleasant. The ladder is old and corroded and a few of the rungs are missing. Billowing greenish mist quickly blocks out what light was making it through the cloud cover above and I just hope that nothing had decided to take up residence in here. I can sense other beings through the

Force, but fighting blind is not something I really wish to have more experience with.

 

After a few minutes, my foot touches something flat and I step off the ladder onto the platform I noticed earlier. The metal is definitely weakened from the caustic environment, but it feels reasonably solid. I look around. There’s not much I can see from here, but it looks like there’s some sort of ramp sloping down to my right, and the remains of a railing to my left. An arrhythmic booming comes from below, as if someone was banging on the side of a large metal drum. Colicoids? Or something worse?

 

I start down the ramp. Whatever lies below, it better not stand between me and Zash’ artifact.

 

 

[frauzet]

Well worth the wait!

I like the code. Sounds reasonable, but may prove harder not to break than it seems at first glance. I am looking forward to when the rules will be put to the test, and wonder if some will get discarded or not.

[Mirdthestrill]

Well worth the wait!

I like the code. Sounds reasonable, but may prove harder not to break than it seems at first glance. I am looking forward to when the rules will be put to the test, and wonder if some will get discarded or not.

 

Aww, thanks!

 

Yeah, let's just say that personal codes like this are tailor-made for shoving protagonists into situations were they have to bend, stretch, add-to, or break them.

 

Part 74: The World at the Bottom

 

 

After the initial excitement of climbing into what amounts to a large chemical storage tank wears off, there’s not a lot to see in here. The caustic fog blocks out vision beyond a few feet and the ramp just keeps winding downward. In a few places the metal is thin enough that I have to step carefully, but I’m small enough that it doesn’t cause a major problem.

 

Whatever is causing the banging below continues. Unsurprisingly, the noise gets louder as I descend, but the echoes in here are too strong for me to get a read on where it’s coming from.

 

Something catches my attention as I continue downward. Is it getting lighter in here? It seems lighter. A few moments later, I have my answer as a glowing shape materializes in the darkness, details obscured by the clouds. I pull out my lightsaber and approach. It’s an irregularly-shaped pillar that ends about three feet above my head and continues past the edge of the ramp, although I can still make out the glow. I’d guess it goes all the way to the floor, wherever that is. I give the thing an experimental poke with my lightsaber hilt. No moment, just the same steady greenish light that makes my eyes hurt. Whatever it’s made of is slightly soft.

 

I frown. This place gives me an uncomfortable feeling. Not in the Force, in fact, I can barely feel anything through it, which is half the problem. But nothing should be able to live here, not for very long, anyway. I mean, I could see the colicoids adapting to the environment somehow, but this- plant? Fungus?- is completely different from everything I’ve seen on this planet before. Either it was introduced from the outside, which is possible, but not likely, or it’s somehow evolved right here. And the vault hasn’t been here that long.

 

Well, whatever it is, it’s not doing anything right now. I’ll just have to watch out for any more of them and try to stay away. I keep walking, but leave my lightsaber out.

 

A few minutes later, I catch my first glimpse of the floor of the vault and have to stop. The entire thing is covered in an uneven mass of the glowing stuff, growing in mounds and spires and clinging up the walls. The only bare spot is a stone dais with an altar in the center, like I’ve often seen Sith artifacts on. I suppose it makes sense, as most

of the stuff I’ve been hunting comes from Tulak Hord’s era, but sometimes I wonder why every Sith in the galaxy has the same sense of aesthetics.

 

You’re no different, Kiarn. It’s true. I look down at my outfit, the long black dress and grey hooded vest trimmed in red, high boots and gloves perfectly fitted to my hands. I could see just about any of the female Sith I’ve met wearing the same, and some of the males as well. But it’s not like I had much choice. If I’m going to infiltrate the Sith, I need to look the part. Or you could just admit you’re as much one of them as Tyrin or Karanni. Shut up.

 

I don’t want to walk over to the altar. Stepping on whatever that glowing stuff is will probably release a cloud of spores that will give me an incurable disease or something. But it’s too far to jump, even for someone who can use the Force, and I don’t see a good way to climb across. I take a deep breath and step off the bottom stair.

 

The mounds of unknown substance give a bit under my feet, like I’m walking on a very thick carpet. It doesn’t seem like they’ve released anything or that there’s some sort of larger consciousness to it that will rise up and try to kill me, but there’s no way to be sure yet. The extra light is nice, though.

 

It’s harder than I think it will be to make my way over to the altar. The unstable footing makes it harder to navigate the uneven terrain and I have to weave in and out of pillars of the stuff. Still, it doesn’t take me long to cross the room and climb the steps to the artifact’s resting place.

 

No traps are immediately obvious, but I don’t want to assume there aren’t any. Something is guarding this thing, and I don’t necessarily want to run afoul of it. It shouldn’t be this easy.

 

In fact, the more I look back on it, the more I start to suspect that this entire setup was made specifically to protect the artifact. When Zash mentioned that the Balmorrans had been using the vault as a toxic waste dump, I had put it down to simple stupidity on their part, assuming that they had built the tank on top and done an inadequate job surveying what was underneath. But the placement in here is so perfect, so obvious, that there’s no possible way they could have missed it. In fact, they wouldn’t have been able to build the place without moving it. Someone in the past must have wanted to keep the relic secret and built this place over its hiding spot. The chemical disposal site would act as a convenient cover for building something like this. When it was completed, the chemicals themselves would keep anyone from accidentally stumbling onto it for a long time, as well as present a serious obstacle for anyone who knew of its location.

 

Satisfied with my conclusion, I continue up the steps. All this means nothing about the existence of any further traps or defenses, but at least can put to rest some of my confusion.

 

My goal rests in the center of the stone platform, a cube approximately as tall as my forearm, with a golden orange light from inside that filters through the intricate etched design on the outside. It doesn’t feel as malevolent as some of the things I’ve picked up in my travels, although the Dark Side still clings to it. I pick it up.

 

Immediately, I feel a slight tremor in the ground and a slight shift in the Force aura of the place. Whatever traps the artifact had around it, I’ve triggered them. Better get out of here quick.

 

The vibration under my feet doesn’t stop as I run for the ramp. By the time I reach it, it feels like an earthquake and the banging noise that I still can’t place is loud enough that I can’t think of anything else. I start up the ramp and stumble forward as it bucks under me. Picking myself up, I shove the artifact into my vest. The corners dig into my chest and it sticks out awkwardly, but it’s too large to fit into my belt pouch and I have a feeling I’ll need both hands

free soon.

 

I resume my climb, channeling the Force into my body to strengthen my legs and give me balance and clear breath. It helps, at least a bit, and I make good time on my climb upwards. I’m afraid it might not be good enough, though. Already, I can see spots where the catwalk is starting to detach from the walls of the vault. Why do the fumes have to be so thick? A pain starts in my side and my throat burns.

 

After what seems like an hour, I see a ray of light piercing through the swirling clouds. A few minutes later, the ladder comes into view. But by now, I can barely keep on my feet and the ramp is tilted at a crazy angle.

 

Reaching the ladder, I grab for it and start climbing as quickly as I can. The tremors reverberate from it into my hands and bones, like it’s going to shake me to death. I’ve only gone maybe three or four rungs up when the largest shock yet comes and it’s all I can do to hold on. When it’s over, I look down and see that the catwalk has completely detached from the wall at the top and is sagging out into the center of the pit. I swallow hard and keep climbing. For the first time, it occurs to me that I might not get out of this alive. I keep climbing.

 

A roar cuts over the rest of the noise and I look up. “Khem?” I shout, pausing before I remember that I can’t afford to stop, even a briefly.

 

Another roar, and I burst out of an especially thick patch of vapor to see him leaning over the edge, mouth open. “Little Sith!” he calls.

 

“Coming.” I pull myself up a few more rungs and he holds out his arm. Taking it, I let him drag me to the surface where my legs collapse under me. All I want is a breath of clean air, but the ground keeps shaking and Khem pulls at me to keep going. I get up and he half-leads, half-drags me back towards the Imperial outpost.

 

 

[Mirdthestrill]

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.”

 

 

[Mirdthestrill]

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.”

 

 

[Feldraeth]

Go on Kiarn, you can trust him. He obviously isn't trying to cultivate allies and potential patsies among his more impressionable former students for dealing with his rivals or anything *snerk*.

 

I liked the offer of his lightsabers, great technique to try to sucker her into trusting him, and I especially liked that she recognised it as such. She's well on her way to being paranoid enough to survive her apprenticeship. I can't wait to see how it all turns out.

 

Somewhat surprised Baras took Karannai back given his 'tools are to be discarded when no longer immediately of use' mentality, but I assume he still has plans for her, or to use her to deal with Rylon and Dellocon and decide her utility after they're dead (compartmentalisation of information after all, she knows about the two of them and his plans regarding them, so he doesn't have to extend the risk of potential breaches beyond the 5 people who currently know).

 

PS: What lightsaber style does Kiarn use? I ask because Erilinn was talking about sweeping style that could be used with a dualsaber back on Korriban (basically Shii-cho, ataru, shien, jar'kai or Juyo) and now he offers her his lightsabers (in an area he knows to be too close quarters for her dualsaber to be of use). I can infer which ones she doesn't use (for example one never allows themselves to be unarmed around a Juyo specialist: their entire combat philosophy is based around causing pain and so is usually mastered by disciplined sociopaths) but inferences of negatives aren't confirmation of positives.

Edited May 2, 2016 by Feldraeth

[Mirdthestrill]

@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.

 

[Mirdthestrill]

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.”

 

 

 

[Feldraeth]

Machinations! I like the way no names are dropped, and how they were just implied. While Karannai is likely breather, there's no reason why Erilinn has to be the mystery sender (it could be anyone who knows they met, could gain access to the speeder surveillance systems and knows or suspects Kiarn saved Karannai). it could be Baras, her former master (name eludes me but I believe it began with an E) or even Quilian (didn't particularly strike me as stupid and is Karannai's twin, so likely can sense she's still alive and would want to know why Kiarn saved her). All in all, it's going to be an interesting meeting, even if it is just Erilinn. Also, props on the paranoia.

 

Intrigue! Why do I get the impression that Khem's like one of those large dogs that follow toddlers around with a sense of bemusement at their antics... except for the fact he'd happily murder Kiarn if he could. At least now she's 'playing the game' as it were .

 

and a party to boot!! What to wear (2 choices, something respectable in black, or something else. I suspect Zash might push for the latter given her own predilections for rocking the traditionalist boat [pea-green summer-dress with rain shield maybe, because who would associate a Sith with a summer dress]), what to do while there, a chance for networking with people she despises, will she be found out and would anyone truly care (A Sith Apprentice who hasn't properly immersed themselves in the dark side has idealistic plans on how they want to change the empire... oh noes ) ? All questions for next time, can barely wait.

Edited July 1, 2016 by Feldraeth

[frauzet]

Now I imagine Khem with keg full of dark side energy dangling from his neck...

I guess he is pleased Kiarn is behaving more and more like a proper SIth.

Getting a new outfit until later that day is no mean feat. I doubt Khem would be of much help in that fight, though.

 

I am looking forward to find out whether Kiarn's precautions will pay off.

[Mirdthestrill]

@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!

[Mirdthestrill]

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.”

 

 

[MayhemofChaonus]

 

I didn't realize until I start doing fan fics how much the writers sort of have to guess. Things like whether coffee exists in LotR, how students at Hogwarts get stuff like toothpaste and new socks or, as will become relevant in a few posts, what kind of food they serve in sith cafeterias.

 

I thought they just ate the blood of their enemies...

[frauzet]

You turn the spaceport into an eerie place. That is, even more than it already is.

 

Looking forward to the next part.

[Mirdthestrill]

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.

 

[frauzet]

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

Looking forward to the consequences of this conversation.

[Mirdthestrill]

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.

 

 

 

[MishaCantu]

Ah, shopping, a paradise for some and the bane of other's existence. I can totally feel the discontent, I abhor shopping, always have, even when I still had my figure.

 

Nicely done.

[frauzet]

Going shopping like that as a Sith is probably a tricky business. If you're not a regular customer, the staff will know neither your exact size nor your preferences. I doubt anyone would be willing to risk their life pointing out the ways a certain outfit may be unfavourable.

I am glad Kiarn persevered. I would have turned around after the second or third shop.

Now I am curious how she has the dress altered.