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“When I was growing up I used to think that they were just security experts, my Dad always engaged their services whenever things were getting rough or we were gathering with high profile people, but what I’ve been reading since I’ve had an actual security clearance is that they were retrieval specialists who relied on martial excellence and top tier gear to act as first responders and evaluators of Force anomalies, and retrieval experts for unique items and individuals. Lots of covert ops shenanigans. Sheeenaaaanigaaaans. Such a fun word to say.” Nyrys was giddy with her newfound fount of vitality, and emotion, and energy. She still felt the blackened patches in her soul where the abomination had torched her, but they were starting to fill in again. Her relationship with hunger had changed, and while she could develop an appetite or know when her body needed sustenance, there wasn’t the insatiable undercurrent of desperate desire that was once her near constant companion. Instead, there was a wonderful clarity of focus on the people and things that mattered most to her. She had thwarted death through her power and knowledge, and was certain that she could do the same for the people that she cared about. She had friends before she became a Sith, only a handful admittedly, and she had kept them at arm’s length to protect them from herself. At least, only a handful if you didn’t count the rather long list of associates with benefits that she had ended up with over the years. No amount of wealth or family status could change that she had been the alien at the imperial academy, okay for guys to sleep with but not to ever bring home to their families, or even openly act as a couple. She had reacted as exactly as immaturely as one might have expected her to back then, using her own feelings of rejection and lack of self worth to fuel a raging storm of bad behavior that torpedoed any relationship caught in its path. She had been unable to find her own happiness, and anyone who had was somehow to blame. Amazingly, sleeping with bigots didn’t actually cure bigotry, no matter how often and hard she tried. Through it all though, she had a small circle of friends that had been there for her through her various stages of pfaskery. People who were there for her at her worst, well pre-Sith worst anyway. She wanted to see them again, and it was easy enough to make the arrangements to have them brought to her. Sith ordered people the same way that normal people ordered food delivery. There were times during her dry spells that she had considered taking advantage of that for her own satisfaction, but she wanted romance as much as she wanted to get laid. Romance promised fulfillment of her need to be needed, her desire to be desired. She felt like she had that now with Ca’aran. In the past she would have obsessed over the uncertainty until it bred paranoia, but she was growing up now. “I want us to be a thing beyond just the pfasking and the dark rituals, is that something you want too? Think it over and come find me in the workshop when you have an answer, I need to get started on repairing my kit.” No manipulation, no sorcery, and no seduction. Just genuine honesty and trust. This was the best thing she’d ever had and she would kill anyone that got in the way of it. She gave Ca’aran a kiss and left the room, grinning and humming a tune. ---------------------------------------- The original workshop tools were mostly an eroded mess of poor aging and obsolescence, but Nyrys had expected as much and requested replacements be brought in with the first wave of supplies. She just needed some alchemical staples to get started. She spotted an idle slave and gestured for him to come over. He was a physical laborer, they had started designating roles on the slaves so that the least valuable, most easily replaceable ones were sacrificed first should sacrifices be necessary. She had actually been raised pretty anti slavery despite her father’s Imperial past, both parents had taught her that all sentient life was to be valued. Not everyone found their worth however. The slaves knew better than anyone why their roles were marked, yet this one had failed to improve himself or increase his value to the empire, even for the sake of his own survival. “Did you know that inside of you is a measure of greatness and power? Not that same spark that lets me break the laws of reality, but certainly an echo of it. A raging inferno can be started with a simple naked flame, and I have a lot of fires to start.” Darth Nyrys led the slave over to a runed copper basin and handed him a knife. Even armed, the slave didn’t register in her mind as a threat. He knew what would happen if he raised a hand against her. “I could just slit your throat and take your blood by force, but I wanted to give you the opportunity to give it to me instead. Pretend this is like the ancient days and I am a goddess, and there is nothing more important in your existence than appeasing me. I would be so very happy if you did that for me.” The slave cast panicked glances to the left and the right. She had heard that she had a reputation as one of the nice Sith. The label didn’t bother her, and it certainly could have its advantages, but compassion offered nothing but phantom comfort without greatness. So this man would die so that Nyrys could nourish and protect the ones that had risen above their destinies. She grabbed his chin and locked eyes with him, forcing her will upon his. She let this grand love that she had subsume and replace his cowardice and unwillingness to contribute to greatness, until his eyes and veins bulged, and blood trickled from his nose. A rictus grin overtook his face and he drug the blade across his throat in a rough, deep gash. It felt good to be treated like a goddess. This new form, this new legacy that she would build, deserved nothing less. Out of idle curiosity she stuck her finger in the bowl and tasted his blood. Nothing. That part of her was definitely gone. A new chapter then. She ignited the forge. The words would be written in fire, blood, steel, and sorcery. A smile crept onto her face.