Space

[Darth Furion]

Yet another pause in the journey, the Dark Lord brought the ship out of hyperspace at the appointed spot, pulled it about in a new direction, and engaged the hyperdrive again.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

It wasn't until they were safely underway in the privacy of hyperspace, that Mirdala finally emerged from the Justice's secondary quarters having shod her uniform jacket, leaving her in just her uniform tactical pants and white tank. Over the last hour she'd spent in the compartment, the Mando'ad finally allowed the walls that she'd forced herself to maintain through sheer force of will for the last several days. Her own ability to keep her composure had been severely tested, more so than she'd ever thought possible since her return from the hospital on Ryloth two weeks prior. Emotions finally played themselves out as she shuffled between anger, grief, horror, pain and shame. 

 

She railed in the dimness of the cabin against her now-dead captors, against Ar-Pharazon for killing Sandy, until she was hoarse and exhausted from the effort and emotional release. The flood gates had finally opened and now all that seemed to be left were the demons of self-doubt and inadequacy that needed to be brought into line. She should have done more to protect Sandy, should have fought against Uhalu's men harder, should have been stronger...the list spun off in to the ether of the universe.

 

Has it just been six weeks since my life careened beyond my control? she wondered to herself as she made her way down the corridor towards the central area of the ship. A weary hand ran through her loose hair and did nothing to fight the near-constant, but fading craving for the spice and whatever else she'd been given while in captivity. 

 

She sighed as she crept carefully down the corridor towards the main common area of the tra'kad vessel. The bulkhead slid aside to admit her entrance, but she didn't step too far in to the room once it closed behind her, but instead locked her jade eyes on the man across the room from her. Her pause wasn't due to any fear of the man, but from her own sense of beginning to claw her way up from the seemingly near-bottomless well of emotions in she'd allowed herself to fall into out of her own necessity to process and heal from what she'd been through. Kandor Fett was the one being in the entire galaxy that she felt safe enough around to drop her guard so completely. 

 

Constant as always, Kandor Fett sat at the table sorting through various bits of intel on data pads, having allowed her time and space to decompress privately as she'd chosen. It didn't surprise her to find that she'd grown to rely more on her partner more in the preceding weeks than she had anyone else since her late riduur, Tracyn. Though, despite her varied spectrum of emotions that vied for dominance, one stood apart and seemed to draw itself away from the others that gave her enough hope to see the beacon in the tumultuous storm. It was affection borne of mutual trust and respect for the man opposite her that stood aside from the rest in quiet, steadying opposition to the churning sea that had threatened to overwhelm her. It was through sheer force of her own will that she'd been able to keep it at bay as long as she had. Recounting the report and Sandy's death for the HNE media had taken her to her breaking point, though she managed to keep it together just long enough to seal herself away in the tra'kad's cabin before any outward sign had shown.

 

"Su'cuy," she lamely intoned quietly after a few moments leaning against the cool bulkhead. She held her other arm behind her back, her fingers gently tracing one of the many physical scars inflicted by the ruthless slaver band that marred her olive-toned skin. A small shudder passed through her as her mind processed that it was the "L" that Lura, her chief tormentor other than Uhalu during her internment, had carved deeply into her right forearm. The arm was immediately released as she mentally chased away the living nightmares that threatened to overtake her again. 

 

Her own jitteriness was beginning to bother her because she finally had no defense for it. She'd allowed herself to lower whatever mental barriers her mind had erected in order to keep itself intact, in part because Manning had been right, she couldn't deny her own emotions any longer. Here, on the Justice, she'd finally felt safe enough to let the cracks show a little. It wasn't as though she could help it, and it had been becoming steadily apparent to Aira, Manning, Leife, Halloway and the rest that she was nearing a boiling point. She was sure that Kirlocca had noticed, but had had the good sense to keep his suspicions to himself. 

 

The idea of relying on another had, at one point, offended her own self-sufficient nature, but she knew that something had to give before she truly lost her sanity. She couldn't handle things on her own anymore as more and more they compounded into one relentless siege weapon chipping away at her grip on her emotions. She had to talk to someone.

 

Mirdala met his T-visor with her own piercing gaze and for a moment mused, How would I survive this if he wasn't here beside me?

 

On their return trip to Coruscant following her discharge from the Ryloth medical facility, the two of them had acknowledged their growing attachment. Little of it had been spoken between them since, though neither of them could deny the closeness that had grown between them over nearly two years of partnership. Mirdala still regretted that those first steps towards becoming even closer to one another had almost hit a stumbling block because he hadn't realized that she'd been raped as well as tortured. He had no way of knowing that the reason she'd tried to kill him when he came to her rescue was because they'd had a figure in armor that closely resembled his engage in her torture as well. They'd known that she was an associate of his and had thought it a better way to loosen her lips.

 

Too bad for them they got none of the answers they sought. Too good for them they'd been granted quicker deaths than they deserved. 

 

At the time she'd still been able to distance herself from the experience enough to realize whose lips had met hers unbidden and unexpected, but not unwelcome. Necessity had kept them both moving and had left them little time alone away from the watchful eyes of the rest of CoreSec. 

 

Now that the floodgates had been opened, she could no longer distance herself from what had befallen her. CoreSec wasn't a safe enough environment for her and this mission to Myrkr that she'd volunteered Fett and herself for had more purpose and meaning for her than the benefit the department would see. This would be the first steps on her journey to come to terms with recent events in the company of a trusted friend and confidant. 

 

She quietly crossed the room, knelt on the bench beside Fett and in one careful motion disengaged the seal on his buy'ce, revealing the familiar face behind it. It was with a sigh, almost of relief, that she sat it on the table to the side of the stack of datapads. "That's better," she added to the statement by brushing a hand through Kandor's dark, closely shorn hair before she sat down next to him and rested her head against his shoulder. "I needed to see you and not the buy'ce. Verd ori'shya beskar'gam, Kand'ika."

 

The armor was cool against the bare skin of her face and arm and she allowed the sensation to sink in, welcoming the familiarity. She decided to broach the least painful subject, glad to be close to him once again. "You stepped down," she began, her eyes still closed, lost in the now cool-warmed sensation of his armor as it leeched the heat from her own natural warmth. "What brought that about?"

[Moon Knight]

Typically ShadowFett wouldn't have worn his buy'ce aboard his ship with Mirdala, but when he was researching, he liked to keep the link open to 2277 for the beskar'ad's analytical skills. He maintained pretty much constant private conversation with his old finder, two minds better than one at any task. In many ways, he had learned a lot from the droid even as he upgraded it, and now 2277 was nearly an irreplaceable part of his pre-mission preparations. This trip to Myrkr would be simple, of course, but having been put on a team dedicated to hunting dar'jetiise and having a conversation with Kirlocca about hunting Black Sun down, there was a lot on his plate.

 

As for Mirdala, she had disappeared for the first hour or so. It tormented Fett to know how much she was struggling with all that she'd been through, but he knew that she would come and talk to him when she was ready. These things worked themselves out over time. Eventually, she would overcome all of it and be stronger as a result.

 

Presently she came out of the Justice's small corridor and approached him. Fett read from her body language that she was steeling herself to bring up some tough subjects, and he was glad for her. She was realizing that these were not burdens that she needed to bear alone. He gave her what he hoped was a comforting smile as she sat down beside him and leaned up against his beskar'gam, sliding an arm around her shoulders. Mirdala was incredibly strong and incredibly mesh'la, and Fett was proud to be the one she trusted.

 

She started with something easy to handle. Mand'alor would have liked to cut to the chase, but he respected that she wanted to start with something less emotionally charged. "Marc Spector showed up in a vision," he explained. "He told me that I was being pulled in too many directions, between CoreSec and our people and you. He said a situation would come up which forced me to choose, so I dropped the least important one." It seemed almost childishly simple, when he looked at it that way. He'd rather make the choice on his own terms rather than in a tense situation, where the choice would have consequences. Fett was well beyond the point of thinking of fate and the Force as superstition, but that didn't mean he couldn't take matters into his own hands when possible.

 

He smiled down at her, then brushed her hair away from her eyes with the hand that had been on her shoulder before returning it there. "Besides, it was too much admin work and too much spotlight. I'm hoping there will be less red tape when I'm not representing the whole force."

 

He let his smile fade and continued looking down at her. "How are you holding up, Mird'ika?"

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

"Marc?" she echoed, trying to place the name, before connecting it to Kandor's role as Moon Knight. "So, some dusty spirit is worried about you having a relationship? I'm glad I make the top two," Her lips managed to curl slightly upwards in amusement. 

 

"I think I've managed decently so far," she remarked thoughtfully as she settled further into his embrace, "but it'd be a complete lie if I said I was doing fine." The concern for her well-being was evident in his eyes, and suddenly she found herself reconsidering telling him everything that had happened. She knew he held himself somewhat responsible for not being with her to back her up when she needed it. Adding to his sense of guilt wasn't something she wanted, but secrets weren't something they kept from each other. As much as she wanted to protect him, he had a right to know, especially concerning the recent shift in their relationship with one another.

 

However, she wasn't ready just yet, but her free hand traced the gouge that she'd managed to put in his chest plate while making her own escape. "They tried to convince me that you'd turned on CoreSec and myself." Her eyes moved quickly over his familiar beskar'gam, "it scares me how close they got. Though I fully blame it on how out of it they kept me." A small shudder passed through her body, and she just managed to keep from pushing him away.

 

Her jaw clenched as she suppressed a surge of anger towards the hut'uune that had taken advantage of her; their actions causing her to even consider pushing away the man she loved and trusted most in the galaxy. "I guess the pain is one way of letting me know I'm still here," she remarked wistfully.

[Moon Knight]

It wasn't surprising, ShadowFett decided, that the slavers had attempted to drive doubt into Mirdala about him. The technique was extremely effective if it went on for long enough and it reflected the very reasons that many orders of warriors forbade attachments to begin with. Marc Spector had once broken under torture from Jidai Geki when confronted with someone to whom he was emotionally attached, the memory of which Fett had to live with as though it was his own. The Mando'ade went far from such forbiddance, however, making aliite something to fight for and honor. These weaknesses came with it, but they trusted themselves to stay cool under fire and make the best choice for the situation. That, or just overcome all obstacles that might present themselves to save their companions regardless of any consequences that might come about.

 

He felt her tense against him as perhaps she relived a memory of her darkest hours. He held her a little bit tighter. "Yes, you're alive," he said. "You survived. What happened to you will not happen again, and the men who did it are dead. Once you come to terms with it, you will be even stronger than ever. If there's anything I can do to help, tell me. You don't need to be afraid to tell me anything."

 

There was still obviously a lot under the surface. ShadowFett was not going to like hearing what they did to her, but he needed to be strong for her. A lot of horrible things had happened to a thousand Moon Knights, and sometimes they haunted him--events that happened sometimes centuries earlier. But all of those things had made him nearly invincible, at once capable of completely detaching himself emotionally and yet feeling deeper things around Mirdala than he ever had before. It was quintessentially Mando, and soon Mirdala would be the same way. Perhaps it was a burden, a hardening against the horrors of the galaxy. But it defined them as a people, and Fett was certain that it was how Mirdala was going to learn to cope with what had happened.

 

It didn't even occur to Fett that she was concerned about laying a burden of guilt on him. He was too realistic. He'd been in combat many times, and things never went perfectly. One did the best they could. He had accomplished something fairly incredible to find her as fast as he had, in a galaxy that big. It was in some ways his greatest hunt. And he'd saved her, redeeming her trust in him. It was incredibly satisfying to know that he hadn't been too late.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

"I know they're dead Kandor. I saw to that myself," she retorted, a little more harshly than she'd intended. Allowing herself to finally lower the barriers and come to terms with the trauma of recent events had severely hampered her ability to control her emotions. He hadn't seen the broken and bloodied bodies of Lura and his gang. Those deaths were hers and she felt no remorse in their end. "Ne paravu takisit," she said, pulling away from him and standing to pace the room, unable to keep still any longer.

 

She'd seen battle and the cruelty of others before and had even been tortured a time or two herself, but nothing like what had befallen her after being captured on Coruscant. Mirdala had no idea how to combat the memories or the feelings that they caused within her, and it was that inadequacy that seemed to haunt her most. Lura and his quartet of demagolkase had violated her and in so doing had shaken her to a level she'd not thought possible. Still, Kandor couldn't help her if she didn't tell him. It would be a dishonor to their bond to continue to keep it from the man she'd grown to love. 

 

Determination to push through and past these experiences, no matter the cost or outcome, finally found a foot-hold and her pacing stopped. Brushing her hair back behind her ears, she crossed over to the open galley, suddenly feeling the need to do something to help her maintain focus before she completely lost it again. For a few minutes she worked in silence, prepping the food that she'd gotten from the stores for cooking. She'd never been the type to run from anything, but facing her rape and preparing to admit to it openly, even to Kandor, had pushed her to the brink. The mundane act of meal preparation helped her focus and finally she found the strength to speak. 

 

"Torture is nothing new to me," the remark was controlled and factual, belying no undercurrent of the tempest of emotion she was doing her best to keep at bay. "It's happened once or twice before, and If that were all that had transpired, I'd probably be able to handle things better," she began, her voice was quiet, punctuated only by the snap of her knife as it tore through the flesh of a hasmir root in rhythm. "I've been on the brink of death before, and I know that they nearly killed me with their drugs and spice." The chopped vegetable went in to the pot, and she began on the next ingredient. "Even dealing with my body's constant hunger for the drugs isn't what's been the worst. What they did..." she paused before trying again as a surge of emotion overtook her. "What they did..." her voice trailed off, and she put the knife aside as she gripped the counter for stability, "I couldn't include in my report."

 

She took a few steading breaths, but couldn't bring herself to turn and face him. After a few heartbeats the knife returned to her hand and the chopping resumed. 

 

"I'm reasonably sure that they left Sand'ika alone," again she hesitated feeling as though a cold blade had been shoved, then twisted through her heart as she recalled that the gentle girl was now likely lying cold and alone in the CoreSec morgue. A few tears slipped from her eyes as she swallowed  then clarified, "I was aware enough to know the sickening casual remarks they made, and nothing they said was an allusion to her. For that I'm grateful, at least."

 

Again, she put the knife down and dumped the contents of the cutting board into the pot, but the knife didn't immediately return to her hand. Her body was tense, as she struggled internally with what she was about to say. It was time to stop running from them, she knew that the time had come to face the situation head-on. 

 

A slow, deep intake of breath filled her as though she were preparing to plunge into the very deep pool that was the source of her inner torment. Her eyes closed and her grip on the counter whitened her knuckles as she continued, "Kand'ika, there was a group of Uhalu's chakaaryc shabuire who brutally took advantage of the situation, doing anything and everything they could to break me," her voice-broke, barely able to say the words, but she forged on, "L-Lura...and his cronies...hutuune, all of them...I-I can't remember how many times..." she trailed off fighting the sickness in her churning stomach. The shaking had returned and was growing more violent. Her knees gave way, but she didn't fall, instead finding herself once again in his strong arms. She hadn't heard him approach, and in her lapse started to push him away, but he refused to let her go and she ultimately surrendered.

 

This was the first time she'd allowed herself to fully face this particular aspect of her captivity, and the first time she'd brought herself to say it aloud. "I had no way to fight them...they drugged me so I couldn't." She was now choking back tears, "b-but I knew everything that was happening..." She could feel her pulse thundering throughout her body as she fought for control. "I'm sorry...I couldn't stop them...I couldn't keep them from...from...r-ra," she choked on the word before completing it, "ra-raping m-me." There was nothing she could do to stop the wracking sobs that followed the admission.

 

Never before had she allowed herself to show this much raw emotion around her traat'aliit'ad, but she could no longer maintain the detachment from what had happened. In many ways, she felt as if her manda had been ripped from her. "I-I don't-t know how to fight this...and I think t-that's the w-worst p-part," she admitted after her tears had been spent. "I thought I could switch it off, but you saw what happened on N-Naboo. It won't go away, and I'm tired of remembering their faces." Her hands came up and she wiped the tears from her eyes, once again emotionally drained, but somewhat back in control. 

[Moon Knight]

Hearing Mirdala say the words aloud at once sank ShadowFett's hard heart and filled him with white fury for this man Lura, now dead. In the very core of his being he had known that they had violated her in such a way, but hearing her confirm it, forming the horrendous words with her own mouth, crumbled his barriers. He hung his head, and the detached warrior Kandor Fett would have wept openly if the concept hadn't been quite as aruetyc to him, his life to this point any easier. Even as it was he failed to keep his countenance even, his chest clenched up and he set his jaw to keep himself from exhaling a ragged breath even as she let her tears drop to the Justice's deck. In that moment he knew that there was nothing he could say to comfort her, nor any action that would make everything--anything--better. The deaths of her captors were unsatisfying, just something that had needed to be done in order to get her out of there, swept away as leaves in the wind. She had been cursed to live through such times, and he was helpless, a sensation so overwhelmingly alien to a man that prided himself on his ingenuity and capability that he was utterly paralyzed, his soul replaced by an abyss blacker than his beskar'gam and his veins tingling with the residual heat of his flash of anger, which was quickly subsiding to be replaced by hollowness.

 

There were no answers he could speak, and there was no comfort he could give. He was utterly at a loss for how to move forward from here. When things like this happened, he had the tendency to fight it out, channel his emotions into combat. Perhaps that would work for Mirdala, but in her catharsis he felt like she just needed a moment in silence to recover. He could not solve this problem for her, even if he could deliver her from physical tormentors or save her life, which was so riddled with ghosts and questions that it would take her staunchest effort just to want to continue. This was a realm beyond him, reachable by none. Fett remembered how Vegeta Isolder had once received purifying help from a Jedi Knight after he had struggled with the dark side, and wondered momentarily if that might be able to help. But for now the Mando'ad pushed that away as a discussion for another time, disgusted by the irreverence to this most significant moment that was trying to simply solve the situation through something so cold as logic or experience.

 

All he could do, he realized, was be with her. He got up from where he had been sitting, his countenance slackening as he took a breath and closed his eyes for a moment as he crossed over to her, then drew near and looked into her eyes. He stood there for a moment, not sure if he could trust his voice to convey any sort of comfort and yet desperately wishing he could do something to soothe the dala he felt more connected to than any other being in his life, including his own buir. And so he didn't say anything, filling his gaze instead with acceptance of the situation. She was more valuable to him than anything, and no specter no matter how dark could change that. He simply took both of her hands in his and stood there in silence, joined to her through compassion in such a way that he imagined not even two Jedi with a Force meld could be. It just felt like the only thing he could do right then, and the vast vortex of hyperspace and the galaxy and the universe spun around them unnoticed, all of reality collapsed into a single moment and location, the events of the past but nightmares and the future irrelevant.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Even as she broke down, he steadied her in his arms, allowing her emotions to play out. She could sense his own struggle with the confirmation of something Mirdala had known he'd suspected all along. Still, he said nothing, though not-quite stoically processing the news. As she looked up at him, and knew that even if he didn't know how to fix things, he would continue to be there and to support her no matter what. It had felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from her.

 

Mirdala had sensed a change in him, even from the man she knew well as Kandor Fett - his private face. A deeper connection between the two of them was forged in that moment, as she watched his emotions play out as his hands enfolded hers.

 

Comfort and compassion from his presence flooded her being, and she pulled closer to him allowing his presence to chase away the nightmares she'd been attempting to contain as her breathing and heart rate gradually returned to normal and the trembling stilled.

 

It was uncertain how long the two of them stayed like that, but simple things like time had ceased to matter to her. Mirdala hadn't lied to him when she'd told him that there was no place she'd rather be than in his arms. That was even before she'd been taken.

 

"I don't know what I'd do without you..." her quiet whisper broke the silence. "I finally know I'm not alone in this anymore."

 

She held him tightly and he seemed content to let her for as long as she needed. It was the gurgling of her stomach that finally elicited a small laugh from her as she released her hold, taking a final deep breath and wiping her eyes. "Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore. I should probably finish dinner." The statement was punctuated with a peaceful expression, and a quiet exhalation that she was going to be alright.

[Moon Knight]

After an eternity or a few minutes, the moment of transcendence dissolved and once again time resumed its regular flow. They were moving forward again, and Mirdala seemed to have at least for the moment the momentum she needed to again continue. The wounds were far from healed, but now that she had cleared away the last secrets, brought to light her darkest moments, ShadowFett anticipated starting to see things improve. He didn't know the first thing about psychology or counseling--he had taken so many lives that his psyche was probably such a mess that any physician or Jedi would throw their hands up in disgust if they tried to explore it. But he was still human and he trusted his gut, and this felt like progress. At once the Mando'ad was glad that this conversation had been completed and he hadn't said something mir'osik to make matters worse. No, it was a good way to continue, and they were both better for it.

 

Already he started to bottle himself up again as she returned to preparing the meal. The jump to Myrkr from Coruscant was actually very short, and though he had no real concept of how much time had passed during their discussion, he estimated that they would be getting close. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than a quiet alert went off from the direction of the cockpit. "I'll put us down and we can eat before we disembark," he said, then headed toward the front of the flying tank that was his personal vessel. The thing was even better plated with beskar than he was, and it was compact enough that two people could go to opposite ends of the ship and still hear each other speak, although it was designed to allow it to deliver a dozen ori'ramikade to a hot landing zone. Much of the interior had been refitted when he'd had the vessel customized on Manda'yaim, making it more suitable for living, but it was still a compact vessel considerably smaller than the Vengeance had been and marginally smaller than the Rangir.

 

And so it was only a few steps to get to the cockpit, and moments later Fett pulled the ship out of hyperspace over the heavily-forested and Force-blank world. Planetary approaches were generally drawn out by traffic control, but there was no advanced civilization on this world save for perhaps a few outposts for businesses interested in protecting themselves from dar'jetiise... or perhaps keeping their dealings out of sight of inquiring Jedi. Accordingly, Fett pointed his ship along the most direct path to the nearest point on the surface and proceeded unharried, the green world swelling in the armored viewport. Sans his buy'ce, Fett could already smell what Mirdala was preparing behind him as he descended to skim the trees and find a suitable landing spot.

 

((Please continue in the Myrkr thread.))

[Sasori]

The Grey Avenger settled itself above Naboo in orbit and await Cassandra's new ship to arrive and connect to it before settling on a destination. While he awaited his companion, Sasori decided to track down information to some Sith he had come across during his time before and get in contact about helping him out with the plan at hand. He only knew of a few Sith from before, and was unsure who was the Dark Lord now, it wasn't like they were Smash Daisaku who announced himself and his achievements with such flamboyance it was hard not to notice what he does.

 

Sasori leaned back and thought of all the names that came to him in passing from the times he helped both sides of a galaxy at war, before the Galactic Alliance existed, and CoreSec had ever had any power and were a tightwad group of police boys that gave the Black Sun something to laugh at. Sasori missed the times of war, the times of conflict. The energy around the universe pulsed with excitement, fear, and love. Nothing else was like it.

 

Still, the peaceful life was something wonderful as well. He wondered if moving into conflict again with Cassandra's plan was the right move, but curiosity got the better of him. He needed to know about his heritage, about the Force.

 

With that thought a name popped up, of someone he had heard of once, but never came into contact with. The man was reasonable for a Sith, not dark and evil, as if ulterior motives had him on the path of the Dark Side. Rumor was he was Dark Lord now, but again, not broadcast. Julio...yes, that was his name. But Sasori had very little know how on how to contact him. With a plan in mind to visit the Sith Temple, he waited for Cassandra to arrive.

[Cassandra]

Cassandra piloted the new ship, which she really needed a new name for, into position to attach to Sas's ship. Boarding, she found her way to the cockpit..where Sasori was looking over a few reports.

 

Assuming he was checking in on the status of CorSec and their building, she chimed in. "You know how law enforcement agencies have sales on confiscated materials...We could just try that...just buy the ship. Just a thought."

 

Cassandra was draped in bounty hunter garb, not the usual dressy clothes. It had subtle hints of Imperial/Mandalorian designs but a little more elegant. The helmet found itself resting on a hook in the hallway. Sitting down she looked right at Sasori, waiting for his thoughts.

[Sasori]

Sasori stopped for a moment and facepalmed himself.

 

"I have obviously overthought this," he said fighting back laughter on his own foolishness, "still, we need buyers for these items when we are done with them."

 

He quickly searched the holonet, and found a way to get into contact with the Dark Lord. With a message sent, Sasori turned his attention back to the armor clad Cassandra.

 

"You look fantastic in that armor. I am actually getting a bit jealous that I don't have a set of something more protective than this underarmor and robes I wear. I always liked the look of the ancient Jedi and Sith battle attire, armor plating with robes ya know, so maybe I will have to get a set made."

 

He walked around her checking out the armor, and naturally the woman inside.

 

"I have an idea about this plan, and then another idea as well, but the plan comes first right now," he said as he paced back in front of Cassandra, "We should create our own company, something that allows us to conduct business in a more professional manner, even if we are Smugglers/Mercenaries of sorts. We need something rather than 'That Sasori and Cassandra gang'. Should help us get some legitimacy with CoreSec as well, when I try to pass off I am buying confiscated vehicles to make a cheap fleet of vehicles for our deliveries and contacts to use, etc. Whaddya think?"

[Cassandra]

The young woman giggled as Sasori facepalmed himself. "Play smarter, not harder." Leaning over, she punched the man in the arm, lightly. Afterwards he got up to check her out in the new armor she got herself. She let him oogle for a little bit, then he chimmed in about getting a set made for himself.

 

"I highly recommend it. And I never thought of a business name before. But that would be good.... especially since my dealing with CorSec." She paused then looked up at Sasori. "It would be better that they don't know who I am. Before I left CorSec... I sorta tried to blow it up...." Cassandra said with all the innocence she could muster.

 

"So maybe we need to lock down an alias for myself. Or when I dawn the armor, we just say I am your body guard. I just don't want any trouble...yah know?"

[Sasori]

"I do understand the need for secrecy, and I don't blame you, when I left the Hutts I helped the Black Sun plant bombs and then assassinated a former teammate of mine to prove my loyalty to Smash. So trying to blow up CoreSec, been there myself, totally understand darling."

 

Sasori sat and thought of a name and a placement for Cassandra, as well as one for their company,

 

"Placing you is easy, you are my partner, and with the armor, in charge of Security Operations for Soren Corp. Alias...How about Katherine Rylas?"

[Cassandra]

"I like the last name... but let's go a little further with the first name... Samantha...a-k-a Sammie. Native of Naboo, we met up a couple months ago, and our partnership was just made official. How's that for a cover story?" Her fingers glazed over the keyboard, making a new bio slip- just in case. "Think that will be good?"

[Sasori]

Sasori paused, as if there was about to be an aside like in the plays that line the theatrical district of Coruscant, at this time the story faded to an audible version of his head mixing with the writer and narrator of his story.

 

"Sasori," the writer and narrator spoke to the character he created and writes, "having her named Samantha, given the obvious romantic entanglement between the characters is really really weird because, well, that is my daughter's name."

 

"Whoa, really?" Sasori said in response, with a creeped out expression on his face, "that's a bit odd isn't it. I'll make sure I mention it for ya."

 

The scene came back and Sasori gave his reply.

 

"Sorry, that name is off limits, the guy who writes my story, his daughter shares the same name sooo....," again Sasori wore a creeped out expression, "awkward."

 

He sat back for a bit and thought some more.

 

"How about Kimberly? Same background, different name."

[Cassandra]

"Kimberly? What am I some trash bucket whore? How about Ashley?" Cassandra questioned him. Odd that Sasori had a inner voice inside of him. Could be a problem later on...

[Sasori]

"Ashley sounds fine," he said, and then stifled a yawn, "but I am getting restless, and my bunk on this ship beckons me." he stood up and walked toward the back of his ship and stopped, spun on his heel and walked back to Cassandra. Grabbing her hand lightly he allowed himself to kiss her cheek before going back to his room and shutting the door, removing his heavy clothes and retreating under his covers to rest up for the long day ahead of him.

[Cassandra]

Sasori was an interesting man... She spun in her chair and thought about her future, for once. Were they set to make millions of credits over the next few months? She hoped so. It would be interesting to see what was all going to happen. Cassandra, rather- Ashley- was all set for combat, her blaster on her side and one in the back of her belt.

 

Looking up at the ceiling she sighed. "Oh Alice, How I miss you." Pulling out a datapad she began to write some of the code she used to make Alice in the first place. This time she would back it up. Along with other precautions....

[Sasori]

Sasori awoke from the few hours of sleep right in time to hear the console of his ship begin to beep, he slipped on his clothes and walked out to the dash and pulled the ship out of hyperspace above the overly busy world of Coruscant. He decided to stop for supplies was useless, he would simply bargain and see what he could accomplish through those means and if all else failed, he would flee like a gundark was on his tail. The man turned and saw Cassandra in the chair beside his, and he was unsure she even slept at all, given circumstances, he hardly expected her to.

 

He put the ship on course with a landing pad nearby their destination on the planet below and turned to Cassandra.

 

"Do you think you can do this without attempting to burn the place down?" he said sarcastically with his quirky half smile edging his face again.

[Cassandra]

Ashley looked over at Sas, "Let's just get this over with. Don't let them try to take my DNA, and we should be good."

 

The young woman leaned over and grabbed her helmet. The beady yellow eyes lit up as it connected to her new armor. Her new HUD was amazing, 360degree vision, sonic sensor and the works. She wanted to test out the new enhanced joint motors on her suit to help her move faster. She reached to her guns, her hands were faster than ever! It would take some getting used to, especially without an AI, but it would be great.

 

"This armor is going to take some getting used to, so just a heads up." Her voice modular dialed in and made her sound like a totally different person.

[Sasori]

Sasori did not know about the modular voice change in the helmet, having assumed she would be a silent guardian type during this mission. It was inconsequential of course, but still unexpected. He himself just stayed in the same woven armors and robes he usually was in, with his lightsaber and pistols nestled within, concealing them from natural view. He combed his hair with his fingers a bit to try and give a professional look to himself as the ship entered the Coruscanti atmosphere.

 

(continued in Coruscant thread, soon, not tonight, but soon)

[Ary the Grey]

For a long time Ares' shuttle hung in deep space, the Dark Master quietly meditating. He'd recieved several messages recently, one of which caught his attention as a potential means of amusing himself until the Dark Lord decided to send him on another mission. It would be a good test of his prowess as well...something he had every desire to further. He needed something, the Force told him so, something buried in his memories. For eternities the Master focused his rage and anger, silently peeling back the mental walls his other self had put up in defense, for reasons unknown to Ares. He didn't care why, it hadn't been an issue before now. But now...now he needed something. And he didn't know what or why.

 

An image slowly formed in his head as he scratched at the walls within his mind, tearing down barriers into seemingly inconsequential meaningless memories, a small comment made to someone unimportant here, a sideways glance in the heat of a pitched battle there...there was always something floating, hovering just out of view. Aryian had done well with his work, but he underestimated his own greatest weakness in the situation: himself. There was something that connected the memories...

 

The ship. There was always a ship mentioned, or visible. Combat starfighter-class...named the Blur. His ship.

 

And he knew how to find it.

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Hours later, a starfighter popped out of hyperspace at Ares's coordinates, and slaved itself to his shuttle. Shortly thereafter, both ships made the jump to lightspeed, headed for a new location.

[Cephi]

ZZZOOOOOOOOOOOMM

 

 

Cephi's shipped zoomed through hyperspace to a random destination he selected blindly on the galactic map

[ObliviousKnight]

Coruscant to Tatooine was an excruciatingly long journey, even for a speedy vessel taking a direct route from the center of galactic civilization to the nether regions of space. Armiena, being forced to land and refuel on several occasions, meanwhile making random hyperspace jumps to throw off pursuit.

 

By the end of the voyage, Armiena had exhausted her ability to catch up on lost sleep and read through neglected segments of the Jedi Archives, and resorted to talking to herself and giggling at her own jokes, all of which were terrible.

[Cephi]

The ship pulled away from Carida with ease and hovered in orbit above the planet as the Sith Lord punched in some coordinates into his navicomputer and the ship shot off to a planet he knew of that would provide them a good firm ground for the lessons he would need to train Jacquelyn and himself in next. The ship shot into hyperspace and placing the autopilot before turning to his Apprentice.

 

"We are going to Rattatak, home of the Rattataki, some of the most rutheless sentients in the galaxy. They do not have advanced weapons or space travel outside what we outsiders brought to them, because they are sorted into clans and have been in a constant state of civil war for a few thousand years. However, a great many of them are Force Sensitive which gives them a good combat edge, making them good adversaries. Here we will hone our skills, learn how to use the Force to make us faster, and to control our abilities. If you can survive here, you will be ready to face your trials"

 

He smiled encouragingly and then lifted himself from his chair, a blood, spot glistening on his robes from his punctured chest glistened in the little bit of light the cockpit of the ship provided. He made his way a few steps back outside the door to the only cabin within the ship.

 

"I am going to rest a bit, I think I over exerted myself on the front of pain, if you want to join me, feel free."

 

He opened the door and walked inside and laid on the bed, touching the blood soaked spot of robe and licking his own blood off of it in curiousity as the time passed in silence. He stared at the ceiling, focusing on the pain, but not allowing himself to be hurt.

[Guest]

Seated by the Sith Lord, Jacquelyn watched as he lunched the ship and then entered in the coordinates to their destination. With that menial task now out of the way, Lord Cephi turned his attention on the teen, and then proceeded to explain the nature of the trip ahead.

 

"We are going to Rattatak, home of the Rattataki, some of the most ruthless sentients in the galaxy. …” At the mention of the Rattataki, the teen pulled out her datapad. She’d never ventured on the said territory- never had a reason to, well until now.

“…Here we will hone our skills, learn how to use the Force to make us faster, and to control our abilities. If you can survive here, you will be ready to face your trials."

 

“I’m confident I’ll be ready, my Lord.” Jacquelyn interjected. Her gaze fell back on the information on her electronic device, and then back up to her master as the sound of his voice. Soon, he smiled and then left his seat, headed to cabin.

"I am going to rest a bit, I think I over exerted myself on the front of pain, if you want to join me, feel free."

 

The teen simply waved her had, then turned her gaze back on the datapad- her way of avoiding the pool of blood dripping from the Sith Lord. Moments later she took leave from her reading material and then joined her master in the cabin.

[Qaela]

On their trip from the Spite Station to Bespin, Qaela decided that it would be a good time to start working with Lucifer. The shuttle wasn't really large enough to undergo some of the more active forms of training, but she could still talk to him and show him a few things. She had a moderately decent idea of what skills he possessed due to her experience with Sith, but she doubted he had much of a clue as to what she could do. Though there were some similarities in skillsets between Dathomiri and Force users elsewhere, there were some key differences, such as the one that allowed her limited healing capabilities--something the Sith seemed to almost completely lack.

 

"If you are to learn from me, you must learn some of my rules," she said. It might be harsh or cold, but he was not her superior nor was he her lover. She had never dared to enforce any of the customs of her people around the more powerful Sith and did not feel the need to around Ca'Aran. For Lucifer, she felt he needed to unlearn some of his old habits so that he could learn new ones. She had experienced a far more brutal set of rules and expectations from her thrice damned mother, but Lucifer wasn't an ignorant girl, either. He was a blooded warrior even in defeat.

 

"You will address me as 'Mistress Qaela' or simply 'Mistress' from now on, just as you would address your Sith masters as 'master.' Sith are treacherous beings, so I will not tolerate you actively concealing something from me. That doesn't mean you can't have some privacy because I understand that you may have made some oaths or bonds to your Sith brethren, but you will not hide that fact from me. If necessary, tell me that you are bound not to speak of something and I may not pursue further knowledge of it. If I ever find you concealing anything, even thoughts from me, I will consider it a prelude to treachery and one of us will die.

 

"You will follow my commands as they are given, even if you do not understand them. My ways will seem strange to you because they are not always like the Sith you know. That does not mean they are any less valuable or important, but you will need to comply in order to benefit from them.

 

"You may not be a weak apprentice, but you are not as strong as you hope to be, especially in the eyes of others. I may appear weak because I am a female, but that is only because the males of the Galaxy's cultures have made women believe that. I do not come from the Galactic culture. Where I am from, women are the strong ones and men are their slaves. Challenge me if you desire, but you will only be given one chance to test my strength with only minor repercussions. Do it a second time and I will kill you.

 

"Furion said that your mouth has gotten you in trouble in the past, so in public, if you speak without my permission, I will make you will wish you hadn't. Prove to me that you can learn wisdom and I will lift this ban, but until then, consider it a practice in restraint and take the time you would have spent talking and instead invest it in observing.

 

"I do not punish healthy curiosity, but when the answer is 'no' you would be wise to leave it at that. I am not Sith and do not kill those bound to me for having questions. Take care that you never question me in front of others because that undermines us both by making us look divided. You may ask questions when we are alone without fear of reprisals unless you repeatedly ask the same question that I have chosen not to answer in the past.

 

"Do not ever attempt to read my mind without my explicit permission. If I catch you so much as trying to get a feel of my emotions, I will punish you severely. I will not unnecessarily intrude upon your mind so I expect you not to do the same to me."

 

She paused for a bit, before adding one last thing with fire in her eyes. "One more thing, I have been violated by your kind before. If I so much as even suspect that you are contemplating taking advantage of me in that manner, I will remove certain parts of your anatomy and feed them to you."

 

The anger faded and she smiled sweetly at him. "Any questions?"

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

On their trip from the Spite Station to Bespin, Qaela it seemed had decided that it would be a good time to start working on Lucifer. The shuttle wasn't really large enough for more active forms of training, but he listened as she spoke. He actually looked forward to what he might learn, he heard the rumors of Dathomiri witches and their mystic ways but had never learnt them before now. He knew they thrived on using tomes and uttering words as opposed to using emotion in order to access the force which was handy in some situations, but he failed to understand just how it helped...perhaps now he would know the how and why. He also was familiar with one speel which Qaela had used on him before, that of healing and hoped if time allowed it and the mission went well he might learn it himself. It was one of the abilities he lacked, something most sith lacked, the ability to heal himself via the force.

 

It was then Qaela laid down the rules. Most were obvious but others were a little bit harder to stomach. He was used to speaking out when he felt the need, not when told it was something he would have to get use to while under Qaela. Her words seemed harsh and cold, like ice. Clearly she seemed to like this newfound power over him.

 

"You will address me as 'Mistress Qaela' or simply 'Mistress' from now on, just as you would address your Sith masters as 'master.' Sith are treacherous beings, so I will not tolerate you actively concealing something from me. That doesn't mean you can't have some privacy because I understand that you may have made some oaths or bonds to your Sith brethren, but you will not hide that fact from me. If necessary, tell me that you are bound not to speak of something and I may not pursue further knowledge of it. If I ever find you concealing anything, even thoughts from me, I will consider it a prelude to treachery and one of us will die.

 

With the end on the monologue Lucifer replied. He was trying hard not to say something stupid or unwanted.

 

''None...Mistress, save one. Would I be learning of the ability to heal, it is one thing I lack yet would prove most useful.''

 

The kiffar was anxious to learn both this and other such things. It had been a long time since he had such a opportunity, he only hoped the mission was successful and he had no need to end this alliance prematurely.

[Cephi]

Cephi woke up, smeared in dried blood and sweat. He looked to his right for a moment to see he was not the only one covered in his own blood. A savage smile graced his face as he looked at the back of his slumbering lover and he decided to allow her some more time to sleep. He removed himself from the bed and put his clothes back on, and soon enough found himself in the cockpit where he saw the planet of Rattatak below, the ship orbiting like a satellite of death, about to launch it's deadly projectile at the planet below.

 

The Sith Lord waited for his lover to wake up, and for them to continue to the planet to complete her training, and possibly her trials.