Space

[Ads-Gop Flif]

A small portion of the starfield surrounding the Corellian system seemed to rotate as gravitiational lensing took effect when the Venture dropped out of hyperspace. Ads-Gop Flif, asleep in his cabin to the aft of the vessel, stirred slightly as the ship gave a small shudder at the completion of its jump along the Corellian Run. He had no need or desire to be aware of where the jump was taking him, as he had decided to let the force guide his ship to its final destination, wherever that would be. So he slept as the ship, along with his astromech droid, calculated the next jump along another random hyperspace lane.

 

On autopilot, the Venture turned for a heading aligned with the Corellian Trade Spine, headed rimward. As the engines flared, a new section of the starfield rotated as the Venture disappeared in a flash.

 

************************************************************

 

The process repeated itself above Mechis III as the Venture switched hyperspace lanes again...this time headed off into the Unknown Regions, directly along a galactic arm toward its trailing end...

[Beck Pilon]

Leaving Naboo behind, a random unmarked shuttle began making multiple jumps through hyperspace on its way back towards the Imperial Remnant base. With not much to really do, Eight-Seven sat behind the controls and simply just waited for either a transmission from his overseer or something else that would require his full attention. But none came his way. For someone who was born and trained to kill, this slow life of nothing really bugged him. He would rather be killing someone or something. But until such a time came, he would obey the commands given to him. And that's what he would do until another time for his skills became useful again.

[Ary the Grey]

In Kirlocca's ship, a faint form slowly began to appear in the copilot's seat, taking the shape of a once Jedi Master, and a close friend of the Wookiee.

 

"I told you he was coming. You could have been better prepared, but you still subdued him."

 

Aryian was staring out the canopy at the hyperspace swirls, seeming to marvel at the littlest things he never really thought about until it mattered. After a moment, he turned an looked at his friend.

 

"You're looking older, old friend. Of course, I'm one to talk. But still. I miss our talks."

 

Aryian somehow seemed more competent in being able to manifest himself for a longer amount of time, and merely waited for Kirlocca to respond.

[Wookiee Jedi]

Kirlocca sat back in his chair and let out a sigh that he didn't even realize that he was holding in. His eyes focused on the empty space before him, or rather the swirling stars that made hyperspace. He was slowly becoming accustom to having Force Ghosts appear before him, as most of those that wished to stay in contact, or even more so, those that wished warn him of things. Aryian was no different, except that the two were very close friends. Kirlocca was even his best man, or Wookiee at his wedding. Without looking directly at him, he spoke rather quietly.

 

<< He felt like you. Fought like you. It wasn't what I was expecting... >>

 

His own voice trailed off as the flashbacks of the very fresh and recent duel replayed over and over again within his mind. The way he had to come to terms with Ares hurt him more than he realized, and maybe more than what Aryian could sense or come to understand. Turning to look now directly at Aryian, he decided to change the mood.

 

<< Do I really look that old? >>

 

Kirlocca then looked within the viewport to see his reflection. Grey fur began to mix in with the brown. Part of him hoped that it was just the stars that made him appear to have such a strong amount grey and not really what was reality.

[Ary the Grey]

"It looks good on you. Makes you look dignified. Me, well...I'm not aging as I am, but I don't look any better, do I? Always battle weary. I always was battle weary, anyways, but it certainly didn't help that I looked it."

 

Aryian sighed. If only he could sit here with Kirlocca, his old friend, and reminisce about the old times for forever, the candle slowly dying out as the hourglass poured on. But destiny was a fickle mistress, and he knew full well that it wasn't the way of things.

 

"I met Dahar Raikanda. Like this, of course. He was talking with Master Scorp at the time, yet I fear the latter's essence has winked out from this galaxy on a more permanent note. I told Dahar how to stop him. He needs to be stopped, old friend, or it will mean the end of the Order. I appreciate your sentiments on Kashyyyk, but it is only a temporary fix. He is not me, he is driven, tenacious, all the things I would have been had I forsaken the light many years ago."

 

Another moment, Aryian felt silent, simply cherishing the silence. That was what he truly had missed abut their talks, not the conversation itself, but the meaningful silence. The mere presence of a friend who would see it though to the end despite the worst of hardships. It was unfortunate that their galaxy was infested with wars and evil, but without them, good would not fight to thrive and flourish. It fueled change and forward momentum, and though it was a nasty business, it was as it should be.

 

"I can see into the future from my vantage point, you know. Bits and pieces, here and there, some things clearer than others depending on who I watch. I can see everything. Not allowed to tell though, not even if I wanted...there'd be a hammer down upon my head so fast, and that would be the end of me. But I can say this: you still have a part to play in all this. You came close, and he was almost it, the grand finale to your melodious concerto. But his story is not done yet, and neither is yours. Make the most of it. Do what needs to be done."

 

And with that, Aryian was content to fall silent, listening to anything Kirlocca had to say in response and gracefully allowing him the last word before simply watching for a long while. For Aryian knew it might very well be the last time he was able to sit and call the old Wookiee his friend ever again.

[Wookiee Jedi]

Kirlocca wasn't sure if at times Aryian was referring to him or Darth Ares, as both seemed to have a similar tied in fate. Sadly though, he felt as if the words that Darkfire spoke were almost a little too true for his liking. He could feel the claws of death rise up against him, he could for a while now. And with each passing day those claws slowly wrapped around his neck and began to choke the life out of him. Onderin Starlisk and him already held such a conversation about his future on Tython. Maybe Aryian did provide a bit more glimpse than what he wanted to acknowledge though?

 

<< The Force clearly has a will of it's own. Who am I do defy it when it comes upon me? >>

 

The question wasn't placed out there for an answer. Aryian himself was still subject to the will of the Force. Proof being his physical form and spiritual form kept separated. Maybe that's my destiny. To bring the harmony between the Force and the body of Aryian Darkfire. Is my path the true path of a Guardian? The thought almost made him forget about Aryian's Force Ghost sitting in the cockpit with him.

 

<< I promise you old friend, I will not abandoned you to remain in this form. >>

[Ary the Grey]

Aryian didn't respond. It wouldn't make much of a difference anyways, he could see the future already start to weave itself together, and there was a silent understanding between the two. One way or another, Aryian knew he wouldn't be stuck like he was forever. Though he appreciated the sentiment, it wasn't completely necessary. But he didn't need to worry his old friend about such things...the future would unfold despite Aryian's small influences. Time was an interesting concept, but to Aryian as he was, who held knowledge about future events, it was cast in durasteel. Only those of the living, those without knowledge of the future, had the power to truly change their destinies if they had the wisdom and foresight to do so.

 

 

After a while, the Grey Master's image slowly faded, leaving the Wookiee behind to wonder if he was even there in the first place.

[Wookiee Jedi]

It was like a slow fade from Kirlocca's mind, the presence of his old friend. He just sat and stared out at the stars as they moved in a blue blur that formed a tunnel around the ship. Nothing much of the trip was remembered, as someone must of had a smoke as Kirlocca feel into a dream.

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

His movements had been minimal ever since he boarded The Corusca Prism. His fingers wished to clasp in around the throat of every living and breathing life aboard the vessel which was not a sith...however his orders from the Dark Lord were specific, none were to be harmed other than those who impeded his task. As Lucifer rested within his cabin for the majority of the trip he meditated on how to go about the task at hand just where he stood in the landslide the force had forced him upon, his purpose in this wretched galaxy was unclear only that he lived to inflict his malice upon others and let them know true fear, indeed he savored that every moment when it came. Soon enough however he awoke from such slumber and thought and took upon visiting other parts of the ship, stealing himself for the outside he knew what to expect, foul looks at every turn but then again who could blame them with a face like his. For he had a large burn scar running down half his face and back, a particular parting gift from one Tobias Vos after a encounter with the wayward apprentice...however...that was history this was now. He was stronger, smarter and not foolish enough to make the same error of underestimating his opponent. Pushing his way past several unruly passengers the kiffar made his way to the Pazaak tables, he decided it best he play at least one game to settle his anger...had he been in charge he would have slaughtered the lot of them and be done with it but it seemed Furion had other plans for this mindless rabble of sheep or so he thought of them as such. He noted a few of the sith he recognised but paid them little mind deciding it best he keep to himself at least until the task was done and over with lest he be inclined to do something he reget later in skewering at least one of the passengers and displaying their corpse to the rest in some sadistic display of power and nay maybe even perhaps as a way to vent his frustration at his current predicament however regardless of this he thought against it afterall he had quite the different show to put on. Playing a few hands Lucifer began to get the knack of it, it was quite simple really despite the initial complexity and abrupt nature of some of the players towards his person, with a little 'persuasion' via the force upon their weak minds they quickly let him join in and thus he played and played well...at least well enough to walk away with a majority of their hard earned credits. Soon enough he was on to the next attraction aboard the vast luxury liner, the holovid library where he saw the astonishing sight of of billions upon billions of volumes of infomration both common and rare, it was a opportunity to explore some of the more benign elements of the galaxy without even so much as picking up a scroll or holocron and as such he took full advantage of the moment. He spent a few hours in the library on the first day alone...his knowledge increased drastically over the time as he learnt some of the more ingenius ways of how to get away with something and even uncovered a recipe for 'Stuffed Ewok' and Emerald Wine to dazzle even the most stubborn food critic. Before long he had gone through at least half the library before deciding to venture elsewhere and sate his more primal appetites when he visited the nightclub called 'Xehro' and after some dancing and persuasion managed to walk away with not one but two finely dressed and genuinly exotic dancers before ending the night, in the morning he simply put his boot to their rear and sent them careening out the door barely giving them time to collect their wears without so much as a thankyou...afterall to his eyes they were akin to nothing more than a common prostitute, only higher class and better paid and as such did not warrant such thanks only what he had afforded them, which to his eyes was being rather generous considering what he could have done, aftrall the ship was large and there was many places a body or two could be stored for a day or more before being discovered due to the rotting smell of flesh but that would be an after-thought if he had considerd that an option, luckily for them it wasn't and he hadn't given them such a fate only the privilege of living and unleashing a variety of amusing curses as they left his cabin.

 

The second morning was indeed interesting considering what he had just done. After removing his 'guests' and after a brief but somewhat comforting and soothing shower and wash to clean himself up Lucifer went on a leisurely stroll through the ship stopping by the gym, afterall what better time was there for a workout than the morning...although he was used to a much more rigorous and brutal morning regime the current workout sufficed his needs for now.

A brief moment of joy crossed his lip when he noted they had somewthing akin to a boxing ring aboard, it seemed he would have an opportunity to play afterall before his due time. Stepping inside the ring Lucifer beckoned any comers to step forth who were eager enough to confront their fate and offer a worthy challenge for his morning workout. At first none dared to tempt their fate and accepted their own weak minded existence until one took note out of the dull lifeless others who stood around, he was a Trandoshian a species known for violence and taking no crap from anyone or anything. A slight smile gripped the Sith Lord's lip as he beckoned his opponent forward. It began quickly, the trandoshian offering a uppercut only to be met by a swift counter via a quick sidestep as the kiffar grabbed his arm and twisted it downwards, buckling him down with it swiftly and deftly followed by a knee to the jaw that sent the trandoshian tumbling backwards to the mat in a somewhat daze. Lucifer could feel his anger as he stood back up and indeed he fed upon it, letting it ripple through his body like a torrent or river washing over him. Many thoughts traversed his mind but most pertinent was his task at hand. It took only a moment to register before the man's vision was filled with a bright flash of light as the trandoshian came forward to be met by a fist to not one but both sides of the face in a seamless, single action akin to a seemingly unconnected staccato sequance, in many ways it was to be expected from one who focused his sabre combat prevalently on the deadly form of Vaapad, however his opponent had not expected his adversary to be a sith let alone a practitioner of this dangerous art and thus did not anticipate the attack instead falling victim to another blow and another until finally his body gave up as Lucifer hurled the trandoshian calmy across the mat face down letting nothing but a slight smirk coat his lip.

 

Fools. Do they not know the power they face, let them come and let them suffer that I may expose their weaknesses and in so doing strengthren my own.

 

Moment later another challnger arose after the trandoshian was carted off to the infirmary after it was found he had a broken rib and at least one fractured knee. The next was a human, a common species...insignificant to the kiffar's eyes unless they were of his kin or brethren...hardly worth the effort. The fight began quickly, the opening beginning with the human attempting to deliver a roundhouse to the right side of the temple only to have his effort thwarted when Lucifer grabbed his leg and delivered a powerful bone-crunching punch to his left rib near winding him before delivering his own roundhouse to send the man spiralling backwards in a pile as at least two of his front teeth went from his mouth onto the mat after a slight spray of blood...much to Lucifer's delight and twisted pleasure.

 

Soon enough he also fell and thus ended the kiffar sith's workout for the day. Cleaning himself of his adversaries blood those around him gave him a wide birth, given what they had just witnessed it was not unsurprising that he was not very much feared by those in the gym. The rest of the day went somewhat slower and Lucifer spent half his time simply exploring the rest of the ship, and when opportunity arose to explore the engineering levels to work out who was where and when as to pick them off later.

 

`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`

 

 

Soon enough and the day of reckoning arrived. Those who had been spared before would now meet their maker, and in their deaths would Lucifer thrive. Manauvering himself around the ship as he had become accustomed to as of late the Sith Lord made his way down the stairwells eventually coming to the engineering levels after some subtle subtetuge and avoidance of security personel where possible. However he knew soon his luck would never hold and indeed it didn't...one caught him. Thou be to the unfortunate soul for he would be the first victim to meet Lucifer's sabre hand...one of many such unfortunate victims who were unlucky enough to be picked to work on this ship and at a time when the sith decided to board.

 

Death Comes To All Who Are Weak Enough Not To Stand.

 

As the security guard was about to rush tom raise the alarm he found suddenly he could not move and found himself violently jerked back into a blade amde of crimson red light, the humming was the last thing he would ever hear as life seeped from him like a river into nothing. Throwing the body aside like a ragdoll of no significance the Sith Lord moved forward to his next objective. Looking around for crewmembers he came acroos one working away on a engine part, unlucky for him. Soon enough he was thrown into the machine head first resulting in a opera of screams...music to Lucifer's ears, as his body was mulched away into a fine blended paste of red mist that smeared itself across the deck. Soon enough as he walked on Lucifer met his next victim...a simple maintenance droid. Using the force the sith crushed his metal and mechanical parts, the sound of metal screeching as it was being crushed together was palpable in the least before the leftovers were thrown aside like simple garbage, hardly worth the bother of employing really at least that was Lucifer's thought. Moving through the kiffar foudn his notice had now gained more attention as his sight was met by shrieks of frightened souls waiting to be reaped and soon enough indeed they were reaped, like the grim reaper come to collect due so did Lucifer come for his payment in blood and metal.

 

Life after life was taken...if one word could describe the scene facing any forensic detective it would be...monster. Using his mastery of Vaapad and Teras Kasi the kiffar ripped through the engineering level like he was made for this moment. Although he knew Gonzo would be here soon he decided to have his own fun first as he umleashed attack after attack upon man, droid and every other species employed alike. Be they engineer or secuirty personel all fell to the might of the darkside and to the Sith who's wrath had been unleashed. Lucifer utilised the strengths of his form in it's unpredictability, it's chaotic yet unconnected staccato sequances or so it seemed when in fact all was connected and prepared exactly as was required. Lifting one sentiant off the ground Lucifer used his ability of Torture By Chagrin...literally making him relive every embarassing moment until the point of physical pain as his mind feel apart like jelly, eventually he simply couldn't take it and drove a drill into his skull to escape the pain...a foolish notion that simply quickened Lucifer's goal.

 

If Gonzo was to enter now all he would see was a stairway leading to pure, sublime carnage. Lucifer was creating a masterpiece of art, albeit macabre in nature he enjoyed every minute of it and was indeed doing so even now. The next victim fell via the Sith Lord's Lanvarok, he stood a short distance away ad began running...foolish mortal soul, how could he know to run was to meet his end?

 

And thus he did as three razor sharp discs short forth and imbedded themselves into his spine, two going straight through in the process ripping out his intestines out the front for all to see as the abject horror of the situation began to dawn upon them, they were going to die and they knew it. One got close to getting away before Lucifer used the force expertly in catching up with him in what seemed like seconds moments before slicing his abdomen open and rending him in twine leaving his two halves to slump down in mere moments. By the end of his first round through the decks there were bodies and metal strawn everywhere in various poses as guts were left to rot across the floor to mix with the metal of the droids.

 

However throughout this exercise which seemed to offer little or no challenge to a sith as Lucifer he wondered where was Gonzo, he was supposed to be here enjoying the revelling as much as he was. It was at that thought and moment that another fell victim this time to his fist as with a force empowered punch he shoved it straight through the man's chest cavity opening up a new hole that looked akin to a giant ring as blood and guts dripped down when Lucifer removed his hand...it excited him for but a moment as the thrill of the situation increased his want for more violence, and now covered in a mix of blood and innards he was gagging for it like some deranged psychopathic killer let loose upon the unfortunate who now ran for sheer life throughout the lower decks, all was going as intended they were being led into a trap with only one possible outcome...death for them all.

 

If Gonzo was as smart as he believed, then he knew the other Sith Lord would know to kill them on sight when they turned the corner. All was carefully calculated and articulately planned.

 

The Sith Lord continued his personal rampage of delight as he unleashed his righteous anger upon all who met his gaze. Only one other thought met his mind.

Are the others enjoying this as much as he was, what delights had they unleashed upon those unfortunate souls above. On that he thought one one thing which he knew would be true by the end of this.

 

At the end of this day there will be no dawn. The age of the Sith has come.

[Emily]

The liner was nicer than anything Emily had ever seen. She felt very out of place with her plain black clothing and rucksack. She should have been in an elegant golden evening gown of some sort, dripping with Corusca gems, her head held high as she looked down on those beneath her. Well, the lattermost was probably true. She was superior to these beings, despite their wealth. Wealth was not true power, not power like she had tasted. Being among her brethren again had provided the needed spark in her attitude. It was a reminder to her that she had not yet reached the end of her path, that there were opportunities and challenges ahead, and that she could gain more control over that storm of power that hummed in her veins.

 

Furion had ordered her and Nishant to subdue the crew of the upper decks. Obviously, that would wait until they neared the end of their journey, for if there weren't enough Sith onboard to fly a liner of this size. The crew would get them there, and until then, she would try to blend in. She found her assigned cabin and deemed it luxurious to every degree. The first thing she did was take a long luxurious bath in the swimming pool-sized tub. It had been too long since she had been clean, and it felt amazing. She then went ahead and used the in-room shopping suite to buy herself a new set of simple black clothing, as well as a red evening gown, figuring that if the Jedi Order was picking up the tab, why the heck not?

 

She dressed in the gown and headed out through the decks. She kept mostly to herself, despite the attention of the males of every species that she drew. She caught a few performances, had a few drinks, and generally enjoyed the opulence. It was on the third day of their voyage that she felt the carnage begin through the Force. As if it was a signal, she returned to her cabin and changed into her simple black top and pants. Pulling her dark hair back into a braid, she armed herself and slipped out, summoning Roe'gall from his hiding place in the suite's enormous closet as she did so. He came eagerly after having been cooped up for the past few days. She had worked with him a little the past two days, improving his responses to her commands, but he was eager for action. Indeed, Emily herself was a little eager. She had enjoyed feeling like a rich snobby philanthropist, but now it was time to return to her roots.

 

She had worked out with Nishant that she would take the top two decks and he would take the lower two of the upper-class sections, so she headed to the very top now. Before the turbolift doors opened, she sent a jolt of the Force through the controls, frying them and bringing the car to an emergency halt. Thumbing on the silver blade of Darth Anathema's lightsaber, she cut a hole in the roof of the car and leapt through, followed by the massive tuk'ata. A glance around showed her what she was looking for--an emergency access hatch that would lead through the bowels and crawlspaces of the ship.

 

Roe'gall whined, and Emily considered. It would be a tight squeeze for the beast, but she didn't want to leave him behind. "You're coming," she said, her tone leaving no room for debate. He snuffled, then sighed and began to shove himself squirming through the tunnels. Emily followed, making the trip a lot easier. They made their way through the deck, Emily using the Force to distinguish the crew from the passengers. Whenever she came across one, she would act. She had several methods. Sometimes she would cut a hole in the wall and spring out of the crawlspace, cleaving her lightsaber down on the crew member before they were even aware of her presence. Other times she didn't bother coming out of the wall or floor and merely reached out with the Force and strangled the person until their necks snapped. A few times she'd let Roe'gall have the fun, sending him rampaging through a command hub, inspiring fear by his very presence, not needing to do much but defend the beast from desperate blasterfire.

 

Emily felt no remorse at the slaughter. It was specific and deliberate. She didn't revel in the deaths as some Sith did, but killed coldly and without much feeling, preferring to strike from the shadows and disappear without a trace. She looked on it as a test of her skills, a refresher course in all that Quietus had taught her. Consequently, very few crewmembers died the same way. In one room, she even conjured a fireball--one of the few things she had learned as a child from her father.

 

When she reached the final section, she abandoned the crawlways and headed out into the middle of the deck. Striding through the halls, her lightsaber in her hand but unlit, she had a sudden idea and smiled, willing to try it. She came across the last security station, and put on her best panicked woman face.

 

"Help! Help!" she cried, running towards the security guards. "It's going to eat me!"

 

Before they could do much but look startled, Roe'gall came bounding behind her. One of the guards shrieked in fright while they all scrambled for their blasters.

 

Emily allowed a grin to cross her face as she motioned for Roe'gall to stop. That brought everyone's attention back on her, and when she spoke, she put the power of the Force behind her words. "Put away your blasters and follow me."

 

One of the guards was a bit more strong-willed than the others and tried to resist, his blaster not quite making it to it's holster. Sweat broke out on his brow, but Emily didn't have the patience to fight for control of his mind. A tiny nudge of the Force turned the blaster to face the man's chest, and another tiny application caused him to pull the trigger. He collapsed, and Emily turned to the others. "Follow me," she repeated.

 

They came, as obedient as lemmings, and Emily led them to the nearest airlock. "In you go," she said with false cheerfulness in her voice. They filed in and Emily told them to close the door behind them and activate the airlock. The door hissed closed, and one of the guards pressed the release. A moment later, they were floating through the endless void of space.

 

Emily turned from the viewport and patted Roe'gall on the nose. "Good work," she said. "Our job is done."

 

Through victory, my chains are broken.

[Yue]

The ship was a thing of a beauty. Coming onto the ship Yue was lean and tattered. In those few days he had enjoyed a nice return to civilization. Since the Jedi had funded their cruise, all expenses were already covered, and well a man has to at least wear more than rags.

 

While the clothing shop on the luxury ship did not feature an expensive wardrobe option, there was enough to find something decent. Scraps became an uncomfortable dress slacks and a buttoned shirt. While it might be considered nice on others, it made the Sith want to jump out of his skin. While the clothing helped him fit in among the rest of the ship, his unkempt hair and beard was another problem.

 

After a trimming kit was delivered to his room, the hair fell quickly. After a quick touch with scissors as well as a laser shave Yue was once more clean and proper. A look in the mirror revealed a handsome and aged face of 30 years. While never really into his own appearance, it was nice to know at least he had maintained his looks.

Finally presentable and restored he set out for his task at hand. He was told to enjoy himself, but his fun would come much later. He had to still make a shopping list

and sooner or later the not so “pleasant takeover” had to take place. So much to do and so little time do it with.

 

Taking a stroll around the ship he saw all the well off and useless people in their golden years. Most of them worthless, on occasion though he saw the people that made his lips curl. As he walked by them he stumbled into them. While they found it harmless assuming Yue was drunk, it was far from harmless. When he bumped into them he was able to see some of their memories, feelings, and their body’s abilities. The ones who carried the features he was looking for he marked on their minds a brand. Unless the observer was a being of the darkside, they would be ignorant of it. This would save him time later when picking his prime choices.

 

He dined and drank with everyone he could in the open entertainment areas, mostly as a mean to shop, but why not enjoy ones work. Most did not hold his fancy for long as they had nothing of interest for him. Some though did offer an interesting experience. One young woman, while she was dressed similarly to everyone else on board, she was more conservative. She was withdrawn and quiet. Off to a corner she stood quietly and stared. While out of character, something called for Yue to go to her. As he wondered her she stopped and looked up at him. His black hair barely hung over his forehead, his eyes with his light green hue shinned lightly. At that moment when he stared at her he saw everything about her life. While she was pampered, her life was hard in its own merits. She hated everything about her life and how her parents forced to study so hard to help run her father’s company. The stupid tedious schedules and men that always tried to sway her. It was forced levels of control and manipulation. If he could feel compassion he would right now. Instead he felt her anger, hatred, and malice. He lowered his head to hers and kissed her lips. At that moment he knew he wanted this one saved. Breaking their kiss he leaned to her ear for a whisper.

 

“Here is my room key. Go there and await my return.” He handed her a symbol that marked her as a Sith slave. She stared and knew what it was. She was smart. “You are my property instead of your parents. I can however free you of even that. You lack gift in the force, but your mind. I’ve seen it, and it has great potential. I have great use of your mind. Till then, I am Yue. Now go.”

 

She wandered away from the party and headed to his room. His future assistant was going to be fun. Now hopefully she was as smart as he hoped and would survive what

was coming.

 

Wondering from the party while not drunk himself, as he would not sully his own abilities while work was to be done, a small ploy was needed. Meandering to his objective two guards stood at the entrance to the communications room. With a quick side stumble he blundered into the two guards. One of them spoke loudly.

 

“What a drunk. God all this money and they can’t hold their booze. Shesh.”

 

Subtly has its moments, but right now I want nothing more than to kill them. Soon enough.

 

With both his hands on each guard he touched their minds and rotted them quickly. They stood up straight and their eyes emptied. They were his. A green glow lingered as he worked. Giving life to the dead was always a refreshing experience. When their minds were destroyed their deaths came quicker than desired, but the task at hand did not allow for complete personal enjoyment.

 

“Alright boys. Open these doors. Do not fire your weapons at any of the people inside. Walk in and one of you take me to the commander and the other the on ship communication specialist. When I raise my left hand, bite them. Make sure you kill them in one swell swoop. Then kill everyone else. If you please me I will keep you. If you do not I will return you to your maker. Now go.” The newly recruited undead did as ordered.

 

The door swooshed open and the three entered. It was a small room. With possibly 20-30 crew inside, most at stations checking mails for the people on board as well as the communications with in the ship. For a brain of the ship it was well ran and easy to see where the weak points were. With the force Yue sealed the door making exit impossible. No escape means no survivors.

 

Its so nice when they make it this easy for me.

 

The commander turned and stared with a dumb founded look. A smile formed on Yue’s face. The men said nothing as they walked to their spots. The commander spoke began to open his mouth. Yue rose his hand and spoke first.

 

“I’m sorry sir. I will not be answering your questions or neither will your men. They are mine now.” After a quick look around, no one in the room except the commander wore a side arm. No expects to run into much trouble on a vacation ship after all. I guess a little fun was now coming. The Sith lords left arm went up and his minions went to work. In unison both bit their targets and the two dropped. The show begins.

 

The force leaped from both his hands as he blasted room as people screamed and panicked at the cannibalistic sight. Bodies flew as the first zombies became many. Quickly they gouged for necks and sides of head. One hero actually tried to make a difference. It was always a lone hero, that pissed him off more than anything else. Yue forced grabbed him and jerked him to him. In midflight a light saber rose from his pants and appeared in his right hand. The crimson blade ignited through the would be saviors gut. Considering a light saber is far from solid he slid down the middle falling to the sides. Messy, but a man has to have fun.

 

His zombies had at least also seemed to enjoy their time. While Yue made sure no one could access any of the communication systems his zombies that doubled as each one went down shredded each body. While Yue’s methods of personal death were great, the sounds of screams and horror just seemed to be the extra icing on the cake.

When only 1 remained his newly created horde stared ready to strike, but did not move. This one had been left alive on purpose. She hid. The zombies while motivated were stupid. None of them worth the gift of servitude and at the very least she was proving of use for him. With a wave of his hand they dropped. The girl shook under the consul while apparently praying to some god. He force pulled her away from her safe place and held her in the air.

 

“Funny thing about gods, they all die. What you should be praying to is what they leave behind. Then again I’m one of the things they left behind.” The girl cried and pleaded to be spared. There it was. The part he loved the most. When they begged. While the dead were his realm of specialty, they never could beg like those who were still alive. His smile faded and he looked in the eyes. Unlike his new assistant there was no hatred, or malice. Also while smart, this one had no motivation.

 

“Sorry my dear, I have a lot of things to do, and your not on my list.” Taking his light saber he stabbed her though her chest. The look on her face as the life faded from it.

 

The room had been cleared and no one remained. Granted the main point was making sure a peep was not sent in or out of the room once the Sith started to claim the vessel. He felt tremors through the force telling him things were in motion and soon it would all end. For now he stood in the gore of the room waiting for the call to tell him the ship was ours.

[Ary the Grey]

Ares' stolen shuttle popped out of hyperspace in the dead emptiness between solar systems, where he performed a rigorous check for any type of tracking equipment or software, disabling it, the ship's transponder, and the black box for the shuttle. Shortly thereafter he made several microjumps, amusing himself by continually firing a stun bolt at Uriel every now and then, before finally continuing to his destination.

[Nishant]

Now that all was said and done, and the upper decks were secured as their Dark Lord had determined them to be, Nishant had the time to truly reflect on what he had accomplished. He saw quite clearly that even with all that had occurred, he had not been able to completely forget, for even a moment, the kind of subtle yet totally encompassing skill required to layer an illusion over the majority of a spaceport. Ar-Pharazon had cleared the way in Nishant like a wildfire, cleared the way so that he had finally stood in an open space with death and begun a conversation that would continue until they embraced. But now, Nishant was learning of a power that took its place in the shadows, and in so doing could strike wherever it wished. Could choose to play, to toy, to protract the moment, or could choose, quite simply, to strike the heart and be done with it.

 

He had sought to emulate that on this ship, with this task.

 

First, he and Emily had determined that she would secure the topmost two decks, and he would deal with the two below these. He found himself, upon arrival, immediately handed an empty glass by one of the travelers, this particular woman decked out in what he (with all his aesthetic taste) would have told her was a hideous creation, but was too busy recognizing an idea that occurred to him. He had been considering continuing Furion’s illusion and playing this part as a Jedi, but he doubted that even with his established ability to alter his image, he would be skillful enough to maintain it with this many people over several days.

 

But now, he had his idea. He took the glass, apologized softly to the woman for his tardiness in refilling it for her and immediately beelined for the nearest crew attendant.

 

“Oh goodness,” he stuttered, adopting with efficient technique the mannerisms of a new, inexperienced and unconfident employee. “This day is not going well for me at all, I swear, I mean look at this, really, my mother completely fried my uniform this morning so I had to come in these rags, plus in the hurry I forgot my ID, and oh man, I almost just got completely hamstrung by this woman because she recognized me from another gig and, oh goodness, I swear, she’s out to get me, it’s just--”

 

“Hey, guy, calm down, seriously.” He’d really lucked out with this moron, who was complacent enough to immediately become the big brother. It helped, of course, that Nishant had been (with apparent success) trying to lace his words with an imbued coercion through the Force. “You’re obviously just here to cater, like me, believe me, these guys doing security here, they’re the most lax I’ve seen with restrictions and stuff. I mean, just five minutes ago I was...”

 

Oh, joy. He’d made a friend. That hadn’t taken very long at all. Within another two minutes Nishant had wormed his way into the man’s head, past where he had gone with Lallu. With her, he had only been picking up things as closely as her emotional intent, but not only was this man the pure essence of normality, he was also not a Force-User. Within another few minutes, time spent refilling drink containers so they kept up with their “work”, Nishant knew that only two others on staff knew this man, whose name was Faran R. Pullitz, and both of them were on the lower levels. A short time later, Nishant had the man convinced that he was having an unbelievable bowel reaction, which for whatever reason required that, once entering the lavatory, he remove all of his clothes and sit in the designated cubicle making weirdly humorous retching sounds, to no avail. He wouldn’t come out. And if he did, Nishant would deal with it. And if Nishant couldn’t get to him first, well, Faran R. Pullitz’s ID Card would now look to anyone who saw it like Faran R. Pullitz sported a funny little mustache, which Nishant added quite easily to the illusory image of the man that he now took on.

 

The difficulty with impersonating a Jedi would have been the attention it drew to him. Now, for the next few days, Faran had no more attention from guests of the cruise liner than any lowly waiter would at location so luxurious. As it was, Faran spent that time getting to know his fellow crew mates, some of whom were solemn, some of whom were lively and jovial, some of whom were bastards. Within a day he had met all of the crew on his two decks, which amounted to servants and security. He memorized their routines, thank you mother and father for being strict Chalactan parents, and spent the rest of his time milling amongst the guests of the cruise liner, these passengers in all their finery. He got used to the way their minds worked, he got used to stealing thoughts from them without being noticed, a sort of peek-a-boo.

 

He was enjoying himself immensely. So when, on the third day, he felt a pretty sudden kick inside, quite as if someone had started beating a drum near his heart to mess with his own rhythm, he almost started jumping around with the way he was grinning. Illusions, illusions. He’d never imagined that being a trickster would appeal to him, at all, but it was more honest to admit that it wasn’t the trickery he was so excited about. He was enlivened by the challenge, and the immediacy of experiencing death.

 

Faran, on this particular day, got into the habit of walking up to his fellow crew members, somehow convincing them to accompany him to the lavatory (where the real Faran was now nearly dead, and a soft hacking sound could be heard every several seconds when he tried to retch), where he then took from them their lives, carried away on the edge of the knife he had carried with him since he lost his first blade after CoreSec ambushed him and his master. That memory had compelled him to fight the urge to be so quietly efficient with those crew members acting as security.

 

These men, these “guards”, he approached as Faran, and as they were mostly walking about in pairs at various points on both decks it was easy enough to time it so that their dead bodies fell just out of a camera’s line of sight. It didn’t take too long. Brief those his tutelage under Ar-Pharazon may have been, Nishant had learned, even if it was in a basic manner, how to kill without notice. Or at least, how to prefer this option. It had been, initially, preferable only because Nishant didn’t have the skill to survive should killing obviously turn sour and call unwanted attention. But the youthful Sith was beginning to think it preferable in more way than as simple necessity.

 

The last of the guards who remained died when Faran recreated the scene at the temple on Naboo, where he had used the Force to press quite specifically alone the base of a statue’s neck until the figure of their beloved Queen Amidala had found herself beheaded. Two other guards had died of him attempting this, but getting stuck and frustrated around their spinal cord. He was pleased that this last kill was clean and silent. He took their ID Cards.

 

Now, he thought. To play the peace keeper.

 

Nishant remembered quite clearly the image of the man who had brought him back from the Sith the first time he had tried to join them. Granted, in the end he wasn’t too fond of either Haphaestus or Qaela for what they’d done to him, but Nishant was more irritated about Kitt Fitt. He was no longer Grandmaster of the Order...in fact, Nishant had no idea what had occurred to him. But fitting it would be, for the disappeared man to show up here, on a yacht, to help control the situation that was beginning to reveal itself to the crowd on Nishant’s two decks.

 

“People, please, listen to me!” He tried, with all effort, to extend as wide as he could about him the compulsion to be still. It was not pacifying energy that he sent out, not what he might have done had he remained a Jedi. He didn’t seek to kindly restrain these elegantly clad, empty-headed folk, not even when he appeared to them on the upper of his two decks as the image of a robed Jedi Master. No, what he sent writhing outwards was the order that they fall silent, that they be obedient. He was their shepherd, here to herd them to safety like the harmless and helpless lambs they were.

 

And they listened, when he told them he was Master Kitt Fitt, of the Jedi Order, and that there were several Jedi on board the ship and that this disappearance of the crew and these strange noises that were echoing around, and that these rumors of all kinds that were circulating amongst them were mostly wrong and being taken care of, they needn’t worry. And they moved like schoolchildren, hand in hand, down to the next floor; and when he had them all together, this Sith Apprentice who was learning to delight in manipulation, learning that he was capable of more than he had thought possible, and had repeated the process to this enlarged group who were now all situated in the largest room of the lowest of the upper decks of this pleasant cruising vessel; then he left them standing there, in silence, and walked to the doors that closed off this one large social room from all the other hallways of the cruiser, closed them and locked them. And then he was at the final door, and he turned to look at all these people, some of whom were trying to begin chatting again, and he held up a hand, and dropped the facade, and became Nishant. Sith Apprentice.

 

If something must be done, then it must be done well.

 

“Goodnight,” he said, and with a flex of his hand he cracked the glass of the lights that kept the great room from pitch blackness, so that now they were all encased, entombed, by darkness. And the screaming met the closing and locking of the final door, outside which stood Nishant, with no difference to his appearance than when he first stepped aboard, other than a bit of blood lining his knife.

 

Which was how this recollection began.

[Hou-Jo Poleb]

White robes. The fallen one had sampled the wears of the liner's clothing stores. He had removed his mask now that he was away from the others. Though he required anonymity among the Sith, without Lord Furion's illusion, the mask would draw attention to his person. He had cleverly pick pocketed a few of the other patrons to pay for his collection, as he did not have any money on him. The clerk placed the items in the bag and wished him farewell. He kept himself alert, to break anyone's mind who recognized him.

 

But none did.

 

He continued on throughout the lower decks. Kids. Mostly humans had populated the ship, all in their teen years. That he could observe, anyway. He combed the crowds carefully for those who could stand to organize any type of resistance. None that he saw. Quite uneventful. It appeared that the brats of money had migrated to the lower part of the ship to mingle with their own. He felt a thumping in his head. A passing ache as he pushed it away, unaware of the suggestion placed in his mind. The promise made by Daben Celt.

 

.:I foresee more after you fail to defeat Furion. You will become Cadivus, Lord of the Sith. You will learn the shocking truth of your time away. Your heart will sink:.

 

He didn't remember the words, but there was a lingering feeling. He heard a woman's voice call out to him.

 

"Hou-Jo? Is that really you?"

 

He burrowed his frow. Someone finally recognized him. He turned to face them, ready to strike. He was about to lift his hand, but he stopped cold in his tracks. He couldn't quite make out all of her features, but what he did see must have truly been a deception. Perhaps another of Furion's illusions, testing his resolve and commitment. Long slender legs. Shapely figure. Dark hair with streaks of red. She was passing under some maintenance equipment that shadowed her. Something in her voice. It couldn't be.

 

"Rajah??" He stammered in disbelief. Could it be, that after abandoning him without so much as an explanation, that fate would reunite the two on this luxury liner?

 

"No," she giggled. "My name is Treistina. Is this Rajah aboard with you?"

 

As she came into the light he could see her for what she was. Not who he thought it was. A mistake. A mistake whose life would be cut short. "No, she's not," he said. He took a moment to clear his mind. He hated this woman instantly, for having him believe she was Rajah. He flexed his hand, ready to choke the life out of her.

 

"When I heard that Master Starlisk rented a luxury ship I was a bit suspicious, even considering the recent victory over the Sith. But I see that there's much to celebrate. The Sith have been forced from Coruscant, at least for the time being. But having found the former Grandmaster after all these years, the Order must be affording themselves some R&R before driving the Sith out further."

 

His hand fell limp. This woman was seconds from death, but she said something that spared her. For now, at least. He cleared his throat. "I beg your pardon. Treistina, is it? What do you mean... years?"

 

Her smile vanished. She realized that he was being serious. "No one has seen or heard from you in about half a decade. I'm a journalist for the Holonet, I specialize in Jedi affairs." She handed him her tablet. "To be honest I thought you were dead. Given the fact you were last seen with Darth Ar-Pharazon and Geki, most assumed the Jedi killed you."

 

Cadivus looked at the tablet. Along with the briefest of credentials, it contained the current date. He handed it back to her, dumbfounded. "I was deep in meditation. I put myself into self exile. I guess I didn't realize how long I was away."

 

"I'd love an exclusive, if you don't mind, that is. The first statement in so long from Master Poleb would really help my career."

 

He smiled with evil intent. Intent she might have seen were she not starstruck. "I would love too. My chamber is this way."

 

***

 

She activated the recorder on her tablet and set it on the table in front of her. "The tide is in the favor of the Jedi right now, but even with the Sith's destruction being sought after by CoreSec, your return might prove to make this development more withstanding. How exactly did you come back into the Jedi? Did you speak with Grandmaster Trevelian or did Master Starlisk find you just now?"

 

Darex Trevelian? The Grandmaster? The thought of that was mind boggling to him. "No, I just met up with Master Starlisk here on Coruscant. We conversed extensively. I was angry for a while, but it turned out to just be temporary insanity. I'm eager to see where the Jedi Temple is. Onderin neglected to bring that up. As your primary focus, I'm sure you know where it is, though."

 

She giggled. Always giggling, it seemed, a coy girl. "You flatter me, Master Poleb. The Jedi don't make the location of their temples public knowledge these days. The time and cost of rebuilding after Sith raids is too counterproductive to the work the Jedi does."

 

That would have been too easy, Cadivus mused. He could have hoped this civilian would have known the location, but he was not surprised that she didn't. Despite touting herself as an expert, it was clear to him that she couldn't provide him with any more information that wasn't a matter of public record.

 

"Now that you're back, perhaps you can get your brother back to fighting the good fight."

 

His eyes lit up. "What about Xen-Que? Is he not still liaising with the Council?"

 

Her expression became serious again. Whatever she was about to say must not have been good news. "Your brother hasn't been working with the Jedi since you disappeared. I tried to get an interview with him a few times at the Last Call, but he was usually inebriated. He disappeared for good about three years ago. No one's seen or heard from him at all."

 

He smiled. "Don't worry, child. I'm sure that once I put myself in the eye of galactic affairs again, he won't be able to come back fast enough."

 

She nodded. "Fair enough. Next question, do you--"

 

Cadivus lifted his hand, cutting her off. "No more questions, miss. I grow weary of this conversation. Brief, though it was."

 

The reporter grasped her throat. "Master Poleb, what are you doing? I can't breath," she whimpered.

 

"Yes, that's the idea."

 

"Please, stop. You're hurting me. Hou-Jo..."

 

"Hou-Jo Poleb died years ago. His name with it on Cardia. I am Lord Cadivus. And I will not be aiding the Jedi in beating the Sith back for good. I will be destroying everything it is that they stand for. A shame you will not get to write of it."

 

The woman fell from her chair. She clutched at her throat in vain, trying to loosen a grip she had no power over. Her neck was getting red, as she tried clawing away at the invisible hand crushing her windpipe. This was a being that truly cherished her existence. Even as her face turned blue and the veins in her eyes bulged, she resisted. He lifted his index finger of his free hand, pointing at her skull. Through the Force he sliced open her skull. Blood poured down her face as bone and scalp fell to the ground. He separated the brain slightly, to allow oxygen to enter, to keep it alive.

 

A small jolt of Force lightning resuscitated her heart that had failed. He wanted her to live through this as long as possible. This woman who broke his heart. He saw Rajah again. This woman left him without saying a word. This woman that loved him and told him as much. She tried to beg for mercy, but her windpipe was totally crushed, feeling every agonizing moment.

 

"Goodbye... bitch." With the flick of his wrist her neck snapped. He lifted his hood over his head, observed the corpse tumble to the ground. Xen-Que would be so devastated to know what his brother had become. "So devastated."

[Rezjal-el]

The walk to the shuttle proved to be an unpleasantly quiet one. His companion’s commitment to silence was constantly tested with various questions and statements of fact. At one point in time Vaegir even paused to direct the Twi’lek’s attention to an odd tree formation and recount a moment he nearly died. Granted, most of his stories were filled with ‘I nearly died,’ but having had spent two years alone without anything but survival to attend to, one’s subject matter was rather limited.

 

His disconnection from current events was not only a product of his two year banishment. Four hundred years of his life were spent in suspended animation on top of his latest Dagobah adventure, so the young man was easily removed from any sort of Galactic news entirely.

 

Regardless, his attempts at small talk were wasted, but that mattered little. Freedom was his as soon as the shuttle bay doors ope…. Sweet, merciful Force, the stink!

 

The smell of rotting flesh and decaying bodies met his sharpened senses like a firm backhand to the face. Something he was entirely unprepared for. Immediately his arm came up to cover his nose, though the blood soaked rags he wore offered little in the means to alleviate the smell.

 

“Failed to clean up? Oh, no no, I hardly noticed. The corpse piles give it that very homey feeling.”

 

Granted, that’s about as much as Vaegir could say before the smell and sight of so many lives lost caused him to wretch and dry heave. As much of a mask as he can maintain at times, there were moments where his defenses came crumbling down. This was one. Death was nothing new to him, not by a long shot, but he had killed animals out of necessity. Murder and such careless disposal of once sentient beings was something entirely different. It was simply wrong, wasteful; a good deal of the victims appeared unarmed and as though they died in moments of utter terror. Revulsion, pure and simple, was an expression that simply would not leave his face.

 

The work of ridding the immediate area of bodies went all too slowly for the young Firrerreo. He was so eager to leave the planet that spending an hour moving and dumping bodies seemed entirely inconsequential. Though, as they rolled the portly pilot from his seat and into the air lock he realized that the trip back would benefit greatly from a lack of mangled, rotting bodies.

 

“Fatty… fat… fat… fat guy…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The ship rumbled to life as it began to ascend. Cloud cover passed by the viewports, giving Vaegir one last glance at his home before it began to grow smaller and smaller in the distance.

 

His home. His prison. Whatever he called it, the sight of the small green orb shrinking away into nothingness overwhelmed his emotions. It was a bittersweet goodbye, but one that he knew was for the best. How could it not be? All that remained of Dagobah was the dirt under his nails and the blood on his clothes and hair. It was time to be rid of it.

 

“Should you need me, I’ll be in the lavatory.”

 

The automatic lights of the bathroom caused him to jump at first. So long had he been without electricity, or even the slightest form of technology, that even the dull hum of the ventilation systems set him on edge. The ship was simply alive with sound. Sound and vibrations that permeated every fiber of his being. Unnatural. Drastically different. Vaegir was a statue standing in an alcove, thoughts struggling to comprehend the sheer symphony of noise about him.

 

Moments passed before he stepped through the doorway. The thud of the door shutting behind him caused him to start a second time. A glance down at his hand would reveal his knife, apparently he had drawn it in apprehension of some door-beast springing an ambush. “Never'll get used to that…” he murmurs, inwardly scolding himself for such a reaction toward an obvious non-threat. With a sigh, he placed his knife upon the bathroom counter. The blade was the only part of his previous life he cared to keep. The rest: the rags, the boots, the grime coated pack; they were placed one by one into a garbage port and sent off with the push of a button. That portion of his life was over.

 

Any sentimental feelings he may have had were immediately pushed aside as he scanned the room. A shower! A real shower!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The sheer mass of dirt and blood that stained the lining of the shower was outstanding. What had once been a smooth, stainless steel encasement was now a smaller version of one of Dagobah’s marshes. It was difficult to tell, but Vaegir remained quite certain that his skin was a shade or two lighter after his bath. His hair, at least, had regained some of its previous bend. Before…. well…. Suffice it to say that the mass of matted brown and blonde bore little in the ways of pliability.

 

Any feelings of shock or surprise at this long lost state of cleanliness could not compare to what awaited him in the mirror. Who was this man? He had arrived on Dagobah as a pudgy 18 year old. Now though, the face that looked back at him was that of a skinny, scruffy stranger. His cheeks had deflated over the years. His face seemed pained, sunken. The original gold-ringed hue of his eyes was far dimmer than he remembered. The wounds of his recent battles had all but sealed, though not even his many scars could account for the haunting difference.

 

The blade was reclaimed, and with a series of swift, measured motions, he began to cut and saw at his long mane. It took several minutes but in the end he had managed to cut his hair back to a far shorter, more functional length than the veritable dreadlocks had claimed. It was an opportunity to reinvent himself. To show that he was not merely a product of Furion’s designs. He could form his own destiny and even the act of cutting those thick locks from his head was one of rebellion.

 

Once done, he’d scour the ship for clothes that fit his greatly reduced size. Having settled for a black collared jacket and matching set of pants, he made his way to the bridge to rejoin his twi’lek escort. The difference in his appearance was astounding. He cleaned up fairly well. Might even be considered rather handsome after a few meals. Regardless, he settled in to the co-pilot’s seat. Space was something he’d not experienced in quite some time

[Xae-Lin Ardel]

Xae...

 

When she managed to open her still-swollen eyes at the sound of her name, consciousness came brutally to the young Jedi Knight, who allowed her self the indulgence of a groan of pain as she struggled to sit up right. Wires, tubes and needles covered her body, and an instinctive panic at the disorientation of awaking in an unknown location after a brutal attack took hold of the auburn-haired woman. Her lack of vision didn't help matters.

 

No doubt summoned by one of the alarms that now reverberated in the room, a pair of strong hands forcefully, but gently forced her back on the medical bed as her more rational self took hold, remembering her training.

 

Serenity, peace, harmony. She resolved in her mind as her eyes began to focus on the person treating her, who'd apparently been trying to explain things while she was trying to focus.

 

"-Then we brought you here. Because our facilities can do little more than keep you stabilized we're heading to better facilities on Coruscant. We think that's where most of the survivors have gathered." Though it was painful, she turned to face the male voice speaking. He was dressed in a blood-stained blue uniform with a familiar patch on his right breast pocket. Gala Emergency Forces

 

Xae opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was so dry no sound came out. The GEF medic turned to the table next to her and held out a cup of water with a straw and she drank a few gulps that tasted suspiciously like iron. That meant that her injuries had been severe enough for her to have either been coughing up blood or she'd severely bitten her tongue. The pain as she breathed told her that it was the latter. "Padawan?" she managed to croak out.

 

The medic nodded. "Next compartment over. Her injuries were far less severe than yours, and I'm going to even pretend I understand Jedi healing techniques, but whatever she did must have held you together enough for us to get you guys out of that mess."

 

Xae managed a small nod. Though she'd missed much of the medic's explanation, she was able to piece together the likely chain of events from when she last remembered hearing Kyrie's voice in the woods surrounding the Praxeum. At some point her Padawan had tried to heal her enough so that when the friendly forces came to investigate the explosion at the temple after things had apparently quieted down, they found Kyrie and Xae. Both of their injuries were tended as best they could and now they were heading to one of the hospitals on Coruscant. Some vague remembrance of a blockade crossed the back of Xae's mind, but she took the fact that they hadn't been blasted to bits yet to mean that either the Gala shuttle had successfully evaded the Sith Forces. Either that or this was about to to be a very short trip.

 

"Oh, and we haven't yet heard any reports of John. You two were the only ones in your area that we could find still alive."

 

Confused for a moment, Xae tilted her head to the side, then gave a wave of her hand, as though dismissing the subject. "Not there, dead before."

 

A sympathetic look crossed the young man's face, and he nodded his understanding. "You should get what rest you can. We'll be on Coruscant soon." Before she could protest, he leaned forward and dispensed the sedative. Xae was back in the blissfully still darkness, drifting...

 

((Kyrie, you can post our arrival on Coruscant and feel free to move Xae as needed.))

[Gonzo Lockjaw]

Ever since he had come on board Gonzo had been trying to keep low profile by leaving his quarters as little as possible. Unlike the rest of the Sith, Gonzo had a much harder time blending in with the rest of the passengers as a Barabel amongst so many humans stood out like a sore thumb. Besides many of the luxuries that this ship possessed offered little of interest to him anyway, and he needed all the time he could meditating on the force and strengthening his connection to it. Even so he couldn’t spend the entire trip hiding away in his room, the new Dark Lord left explicit instructions for him and Gonzo wasn’t about to get on his bad side so soon. But before he could complete his task, Gonzo had some other necessities that needed to be done first.

 

To begin with, Gonzo headed to the infirmary where he had the doctors heal any wounds and injuries left over from his fight from Gala. The doctors were a little wary at first a few mind tricks convincing them he was a Jedi erased any uncertainty and made them absolutely delightful. A pair of young and attractive nurses became especially friendly after this because as they put, they had never had the privilege of treating a Jedi before. One of them by the name of Joy began inquiring him about all of his various adventures, and naturally Gonzo obliged her. He wove for her an elaborate lie about all of his and the Jedi’s conquests over the Sith starting with their most recent victory on Gala, and then moving on to the incident on Corellia, this caught the nurses attention

 

“Oh” she cried, “you were there when the Sith attacked the hospital”

 

“Yesss” replied Gonzo, “I wasss one of the lucky onesss, mossst of the Jedi perissshed when the explosssion went off. Why do you asssk? Did you know sssomeone there?”

 

“My cousin was one of the nurses working at the hospital at the time of the catastrophe, she had contacted me just before saying how excited she was that she had been promoted to the emergency response unit”, Joy said with a bit of sadness on her voice.

 

Trying to sound somewhat sympathetic Gonzo responded back with, “Ssshe mussst have been brave to risssk working in sssuch a dangerousss environment, but you mussstn’t let your grief consssume you, asss many were killed that day”

 

“She wasn’t killed”, cried Joy with anger rising up in her, “she was murdered, handpicked by one the Sith for slaughter”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“When they found her and her partner, they had been piloting a shuttle to the hospital hoping to sneak out some supplies to distribute among the wounded, but when they landed one of the Sith brutally murdering them by stabbing them to death and then leaving their bodies to rot while he stole their shuttle”

 

This story sounded strikingly familiar to Gonzo and according to the details he had a fairly good idea which Sith had committed these crimes,

 

“That isss truly a sssad story my dear, and jussst another reassson why the Sssith need to be dessstroyed”

 

Once all of his treatments were complete and Gonzo began to make his way out of the infirmary, he turned back to the nurse,

“why don’t you come by my quartersss later and perhapsss I can assssit you with sssome meditation techniquesss that will help you with your grief and anger”.

 

After leaving the doctor’s Gonzo’s body was back at 100% as all of his aches and pains had been finally been cured leaving him stronger than ever. But even so the encounter with Joy had left him slightly unnerved as he had never expected the actions taken back on Corellia to ever come back and haunt him, never the less he would deal with those later. Before he went to the engine to join Lucifer in the slaughter, Gonzo had one more task that needed to be completed. Due to his actions on Gala, Gonzo’s once luxurious robes, taken from The Cake is a Lie, had taken a battering and now were nothing more than a tattered mess with most of it still back on Gala. So stepping into one of the luxury cruiser’s many tailor shops, Gonzo set about getting himself a new set of robes.

 

Upon entering he was immediately greeted by the store’s owner, an elderly woman, who pleasantly introduced herself as Anne, “the finest maker of clothes on this side of the galaxy”. Gonzo wasted no time telling her exactly what he wanted, and after a couple of measurements she was bustling away at his new outfit. After what seemed like no time Anne had finished his order which consisted of a set of new black robes made from some of the finest silks in the galaxy. The robes fit snuggly across his body, but comfortable enough to grant him a full range of mobility, the design also came with a crimson sash containing a leather sheath running across his back that now contained Gonzo’s sword, and a belt which now housed his light saber and pistols. The final piece was a hood which when pulled over would cover most of his face leaving only his jaw sticking out. Once everything was complete, Gonzo thanked the woman and instructed her to send the bill to the Jedi Council and that they would be most pleased with her work. With that out of the way Gonzo began making his way over to the engine room to finally finish the work the Dark Lord had given him.

 

On his way, Gonzo could sense that Lucifer was already at work disposing of the crew members. Thinking that it may not be best to be detected or seen entering the engineering room at this time, Gonzo cast his force invisibility before entering the room. When he did enter, Gonzo was greeted with an excruciating scene, everywhere lay the blood, flesh, and bodies of the former crew members who had fallen before Darth Lucifer. But before he could fully take in the carnage that had befallen here, some of the engineers who had survived thus far appeared, and were making a mad dash for the door trying desperately to get away and warn the rest of the crew. Gonzo couldn’t help but give a small smile as none of them knew he was standing there waiting for his prey to come to him. The engineers who thought they had made it to safety cried out as they suddenly suspended in air, unable to move any further. When Gonzo revealed himself, his prisoners became dumbfounded as they couldn’t believe that now a second Sith had joined in bringing about their deaths. One by one, Gonzo began killing them, with the first meeting his fate by having all of his organs and bones crushed from within, causing massive failures and an unbearable amount of pain before he died. The second had a much kinder death as Gonzo sliced off his head in a single blow with his beskar sword leaving only a stump gushing out blood. The final man suffered greatly to make up for the last by having his body carved up slowly. It began with a few cuts here and a few cuts there, then moved to the removal of ears, lips nose, fingers, toes, limbs before Gonzo finally put the man out of his misery by running his sword through the man’s heart. With his first victims out of the way, and the scent of fresh blood in the air, Gonzo joined in the slaughter killing all in his wake.

[Darth Furion]

The ship was everything a normal person could ever dream of. A little space of absolute luxury removed from the wear and tear of everyday life. Nothing to worry about, no rigid schedules to uphold, every need and want at your fingertips. Most of all, no one trying to step over you and take what was yours. Truly a place of oblivious happiness in a galaxy wrought by suffering. The faces of men and women around him wore nothing but smiles and laughed freely, and children ran and played in their naive splendor. Everything was perfect in this world apart. He couldn't help but think Rose would love it here, but instantly regretted it as the sourness of that note struck in the chorus of his mind. Lingering on her memory summoned a macabre dirge in his ears, a deprecating hymn to his self loathing. Julio had always done what he considered was necessary, the ends justifying the means, but that was always to do right by himself. Questions constantly plagued his troubled mind as to what was right by his daughter. There was no question that the weak deserved their fate, and that one did not deserve what they could not protect, so his love for her had always seemed a continuation of his already laid out path. Become stronger, always stronger, so that he could keep and protect the one he loved. However, in doing so he had largely neglected her in many respects. Birthdays, important events, and time in general had always been sacrificed for that goal of power and freedom, but what had it cost them? There was no doubt in his mind the little girl loved him completely and without a shred of doubt in her heart, but had he felt the same? Did a father abandon his daughter to protect her, or did he spend every waking moment making her stronger? Victim of his own neglectful father, Julio couldn't settle on an answer. And that, more than any other worry, tortured him.

 

For the first few days, the Dark Lord spent time wandering the halls of the ship, idly watching people come and go and the blissful thoughts dominant in their worry free heads. Mask of the Jedi held firm, he wore it like any other mask before. He wore them naturally, comfortably, as if they were his very self, but as always it was nothing but a lie. A lie the flock would never see through. Fools with pliant minds and ignorant acceptance. It wasn't entirely their fault, though. Julio couldn't hate them for the complacency in their lives they had been taught to so readily fall into. It was simply the nature of today's society and the accumulative upbringing of generation after generation of not knowing the truth. Their lives were lies built upon lies, so deep and interwoven it became a messy blur of confusion and misdirection. Though he understood them, he in no way pitied them. The strong would find the truth on their own, and the weak would be left to their abysmal fate. It was simply the way.

 

Late at night when the crowds from the casinos and bars would stumble their way to their rooms for sleep the mask fell off and he was once again free to be himself. In the senatorial suite Julio was alone, a condition he was both accustomed to and loved. Though he was never truly free from the prying perceptions of his brothers cruising with him, here he was at least veiled by walls and the mass gathering of life around them. The Dark Lord needed little sleep anymore, a couple hours of meditation sufficient enough to ease the day's wear on his physical form. To fill the hours he practiced, always practicing. For a couple hours he would lay in bed and let his mind drift to the dreams of others on the ship, swimming through seas of subconscious to stare into the deeply constructed egos fabricated through individuals' lives. Layers upon layers of psychosis, fears, confusions, misunderstandings, all vivid and bright in their slumber. Julio walked through their dreams with the softest steps as if the roads to their deepest secrets were paved in air. When he tired of this he slipped away back to the limited confines of his room to practice more substantial skills.

 

Pushing aside the room's expensive and brightly colored furniture with a brush of his hand, the Sith stood in center of the opening. His body took on the form of a ready stance from one of the newer styles of martial arts from a world in the far reaches of the galaxy. He could feel his skin spark and his muscles tighten in anticipation as the energy in his body began to flow to his fingertips to the tips of his toes. He willed the energy to move as he moved, flowing easily with the body as they became one. Moving through the well versed moves, he unexpectedly broke into something completely different. This style was wider than the first, his arms flying wide as his feet stepped quickly to change placement. Not two exchanges in it switched again without any physical signs of warning, as his legs now seemed to become predominant in snap kicks three or four at a time, all in a blink of an eye. Four hours this continue, progressing in speed and frequency of changing form. Lashing out with an Echani strike before breaking into an Ataru block, through to a parry as of yet unseen in the cacophony of deadly strikes. And all the while his inner energy flowed with him in perfect synchronization, changing direction without conscious thought as Julio poured himself into the dance of death.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The appointed day came and once again he donned the mask of the famed Jedi Master. On this evening, however, he did not watch the passengers enjoy their wasted lives. Instead Julio moved to a previously unexplored part of the ship. The bridge. He had never seen the bridge on this kind of vessel before, and though he knew on the days leading up to this night that he would need to be inside it shortly, he didn't dare compromise the mission by tipping anyone off to his intentions snooping around too much. There was no need to scout it out because there would be nothing to scout. The bridge, this ship, was already his. The crew and passengers were his guests, living their last free days without any knowledge of it. In their unknowing they lived out the last few memories of happiness they would ever have again. They just didn't know it yet.

 

Three soft knocks on the door was all the Dark Lord needed to gain entry. It slid open and there were no armed guards on the other side, no tension prefacing violence in the faces or shoulders of the handful of crew manning this shift. Instead there was only bright smiles at the hero of the republic, the former Grand Admiral, the Jedi Master their minds so eagerly saw.

 

"Good evening, Master Starlisk! We were wondering if you would do us the honor of a visit anytime soon. When word got out that you were on board, the captain wanted to send you an invitation to dine with us immediately, but decided against it. 'Surely he wants some peace and quiet' he said."

 

"Stand down, ensign, before you suck up all the Master Jedi's air." The captain chuckled, and the young lad quickly took a step back to his post awaiting command, still beaming at the sight of the Jedi. "I'm sorry about Rogers," He continued, his smile just as wide beneath his thick, bushy mustache. "He hasn't stopped talking about you and your party since we got the news. He was right, though. We are glad to have you aboard."

 

The pleasure is all mine, captain. You command quite a vessel. Julio stepped further into the bridge, taking it all in. The door he came in was the only one, and there were but seven men on the bridge with him, including the captain. Only two officers and the captain himself had sidearms, though the ones on the officers' belts were serviced recently, and polished. The captains looked like an old relic, and likely hadn't been out of its holster in a decade. All of this was gleaned in a fraction of a second as Julio took the quick glance. To them he was just taking in the sights like any other wide eyed passenger. I must say I'm impressed. I'm so used to military designs, but this...this is truly a work of art.

 

"We are honored, Master Starlisk." The captain raised his hand to his chest and gave a soft bow, either in show of Onderin's military service, or a sign of respect for the Order he represented.

 

Please, call me Onderin. Julio said, raising the captain quickly with a soft hand. Where are we on our present course?

 

"If you'll come this way, I'll show you." The captain was smiling now, so glad to be so informal with one so reputed. They moved to the navicomputer where a bright holo-projection rose from the console. "We're currently passing Talus, on our way around the inner rim toward Naboo, where we'll take our first stop."

 

Throughout the ship began the assault. Word, one way or another, would reach the bridge shortly. Excellent. Right on schedule. He let the mask slip, and for the first time in public on the ship he was free to be Julio.

 

"Yes, we're..." As the captain looked up confusion struck him, suddenly looking upon the face of a complete stranger. "Wha...where did..." He didn't have time to complete the confounding thought before he reached for his throat, choking desperately for the air Julio callously denied him. Everyone else on the bridge followed suit, falling to their knees or out of their seats as the Dark Lord reached out to seal their fate. He placed his hand on the captain's forehead, diving deep into his mind to violently rend it to shreds, disassembling identity and memory just to find a few key bits of vital information before letting the man collapse to the floor. All around Julio men gagged and clawed at their own throats, frantic and panic stricken. With a few quick keystrokes the ship fell out of hyperspace and began turning toward a new plot. While the ship adjusted, Julio searched through the systems to disable any tracking devices it may have, then reengaged the hyperdrive. With the last few death rattles, Julio sat down on the floor in the midst of the dying and began to stretch out his mind to the yet living crew and passengers, driving complacency and lethargy deep into their minds to override any sense of self preservation they clung to. For the remainder of the journey he would continue his work on them, and one by one they too would become his. Just like this ship.

Edited March 20, 2012 by Guest

[Sasori]

The Grey Avenger soared through hyperspace off to a destination Sasori knew would be a grea place to pick up everything they could need and more, Naboo. Thigh there were some undesirable beings on Naboo, it was home to some of the best craftsmen in the galaxy, and filled with goods for Sasori to spend some of his substantial savings on. Placing the autopilot on Sasori turned his chair toward his new compainon.

 

"Well, I know I am going to be getting some new robes and possibly some other materials I need to make some modifications to my ship and weapons. How about you?"

[Keenava Dira]

Space…

 

The idea of silence felt so real, so solid, Lallu could almost feel it manifest like cold, slender fingers running across her scarred, black skin. Fingers that sang sensations down her spine with every caress and pulled at the strings of her heart until they were close to breaking. It was a symphony of ‘nothing,’ that wrote its harmony in the absence of everything and the flux of each musical movement resonated within her. She could feel the engines of the shuttle ignite and accelerate, but the sensations were hollow. The hypnotic sound of emptiness drew her in; the dark poetry of the void called out to her and reached to cradle her in its soft embrace; the solace of that moment, weighing more than any word ever could. It was intoxicating. She sat for hours, transfixed within that ebony cloud and fell into her mind; trapping it in thought.

 

In the past, it was hard to imagine spending her life in silence, but time solidified her need. It molded her into something else. Now Lallu couldn’t see life without the comfort of silence. She embraced it like a second skin. It consumed her thoughts and brought clarity to even the smallest sensation. But, like all things she knew, even silence was deceptive. The complete absence of sound was never truly without noise, and hidden deep within the black of her comfort, there was always pain. The ache she felt, surrounded by shadowed faces and lecherous intentions; the putrescence that hung deep in the bowels of her happiness. She was alone.

 

Taken from loving arms was a harshness that refused to scar. The wound festered and rot upon the peak of her consciousness and never left. The warmth of that affection never returned and without it, she had nothing to fill the gap it left. Futile twisted echoes of hope did what they could to bleed into the gap, but they led the Twi’lek into misguided illusions of happiness. Dreams of her past were hollow comforts and faded away with the morning. They were shadows that clung to the small happiness that Lallu could find in her cell and plagued her with distorted visions of unattainable euphoria. They teased her with illusions of grandeur and wrenched it all away with the beginning of each day. Like a flower lying delicately in its vase. One breeze would push the entire thing away without warning and without question…

 

Lallu’s mind spun for a moment as the lucidity of her eyes returned, finding the cockpit bare against the breadth of space. The shuttle was about to jump into light speed and was prepping for the transition. Soon the entire portrait of black would light up in streams of fluorescent blue.

 

Lallu saw the man’s form slide into the co-pilot’s chair and barely noticed a difference before she left the cockpit and started wandering towards the lavatory herself.

[Cassandra]

Sasori, what a pleasant name for such a handsome man. Time with him was going to be most rewarding.

 

"I need supplies. I'm going to be completely honest with you Sas, I literally have nothing outside of the clothes on my back, my credit chips, and the blaster tucked into my belt." Lounging herself back further into the very comfy chair, obviously embarrassed. But she couldn't wait to get planet-side. Let alone Naboo. If she wasn't so embarrassed, she would be giddy.

[Sasori]

"I have been there myself" Sasori said genuinely to the only other passenger in his ship, "I arrived on Tatooine only a few short years ago with nothing but the clothes and weapons in my possession."

 

He grabbed Cassandra's hand and looked her in the eyes. For the first time Sasori reached out with the Force to try and gain a sense of Cassandra. He had not done so yet as he didn't want to offend her, but he felt as if the Force had guided her to him in the first place, he intended to find out why. He reached out with the Force and allowed it to surround Cassandra and try to work and find out what made her so unique while he talked to her.

 

"if I can go from that to the man I am today, I am quite sure a beauty like yourself will have no trouble escalating herself above the mediocrely masses of the galaxy to live the comfortable life you deserve."

 

He let go of her hand but didn't break eye contact even for a moment. He knew humans and aliens alike all had one thing in common, their eyes, if they had them, always carried more language in them than words ever could.

 

"I intend to give you a headstart that I didn't have, give you the resources to become the powerful influence on the galaxy you should be, and possibly more."

 

Something had happened, Sasori felt something within her, much the same as he felt in himself when he had discovered his ability to use the Force, as if something had unlocked. He was sure she felt it to, and possibly his presence on her. Sasori stopped and waited for her reaction before doing anything else.

[Cassandra]

Sasori grabbed her hand, Cassandra smiled. Not only did he play the game well, but he was kind. He was going out of his way to help her. A complete stranger that bought him a drink in the bar. She was content with that. Mooching was not her style, she would pay her own way through this. Cassandra had money. Massaging the back of his hand with her thumb, she caught his gaze. There was something memorizing about the small orbs.

 

"Oh I do intend to come back out on top." Smiling, Sasori let go of her hand. "I don't need your money, thank you. I was just bored rolling through the galaxy alone. You looked lonely, so we-" Then she felt it. She felt the Force through the intoxication of her mind. She stood up, shocked and slightly offended.

 

"Jedi....or Sith? Spill... now." Her tone went from kind and caring to stern and demanding in an instant. Her blood pressure and pulse spiked- she sobered up fast. Her back against the wall of the ship she was scared. It was going to be the classic fight or flight syndrome.

[Sasori]

Sasori was prepared for her reaction should she have felt his presence, yet at the same time he was stunned, equally as bewildered and yet ecstatic. The woman was far more than she appeared, maybe even far more than even she knew she was. The man didn't move from his chair and remained calm, no need to put pressure on the situation by not giving her the breathing room she would need right now.

 

"I am not Jedi or Sith, those religious types never floated well with me, no, I am something else completely, I follow my own path as I feel to use it. The Jedi called me a Grey Jedi, based on my ship name, the term seems to have stuck to me. I am not Light or Dark, not evil or a zealot. I am just who I am, and I use the Force as I see fit."

 

With her question answered Sasori stood from his chair, but did not come closer to her, knowing that her trust in him had been slightly broken.

 

"I was prodding as I was curious as to what led you to me and if it was the Force or just luck," he spoke plainly, "however, I have a question for you Cassandra, how is it you could feel me in the first place? Are you Sith? Are you Jedi?"

 

He smiled before continuing sarcastically, "spill...now."

[Cassandra]

Sasori played the situation well. He calmed Cassandra down, he didn't make any aggressive moves. That was good for a girl in her situation. She needed to be calmed down, and relaxed. If Sasori knew about her past he would have never done that to her. But he was a in-between Force User. Regaining control of her breathing, Cassandra settled down a little bit. Silent because she didn't know what to say, she just listened to the man.

 

"I am Force-Sensitive. I have very little control over the power, but I know when someone is trying to poke and prod me."

 

There wasn't much to say, she needed time to calm down and gauge the situation. She calmly looked back at the Grey Jedi.

[Darth Furion]

"Daddy." Rose said tenuously from the co-pilot chair.

 

Yes, sweety? He knew what was coming before she said it, but didn't quite know why. Intuition perhaps, or his most recently realized fears coming to life before him. Either way, the time for indecisiveness had passed.

 

"You're the Dark Lord now, right? I mean...everyone has to do what you say and stuff."

 

Yes... He gave back just as hesitantly, wondering what was going on in that teenage mind of hers. But in hearing his hesitation, her heart began to race. She knew he knew, or at least had an idea of the direction she was going, so soft steps were no longer required. In all her years with him, Rose knew Julio didn't hesitate. His determination was solid and his path always set. It was in these exceedingly rare moments when she found him persuadable, so she wasted no time.

 

"Well, that means you don't have to work so hard to protect me anymore, right? No one would come after me now that you're the strongest."

 

Quite the opposite, my darling. Now because of my position you are in more danger than ever. I may rule over them, but only because I am strong enough to do so. They will plot, and plan, and grow stronger themselves to one day take my position. If anything, now I have to train harder than ever to keep what is mine.

 

She knew he wasn't talking about the mantle of Dark Lord, or his power. His only real concern was for her. "But I don't want you to have to protect me anymore. You spend so much time looking after me that you don't get to do anything fun for yourself! I want to be strong like you, and protect myself so that you don't have to."

 

He broke away from the console for a moment to flash her that sly smile she loved so much. That's the way of life, Rose. If I am not strong enough to protect you, then I do not deserve you.

 

"And If I'm not strong enough to protect my own life, I don't deserve it either, do I?" Ouch. It hurt to hear the truth come out of her own mouth, spoken in that soft, childlike voice of her's. He knew it to be completely counter-intuitive to what he believed in, but Julio had always wanted Rose to stay blissfully ignorant of the truth of things, to live a happy life even if it meant being weak for it. The days Julio considered himself happy since he started on this path long ago were few and far between, and a great many of them were because of Rose. He sat silent, just staring at her in her beautiful wisdom, at a loss for words. "What do you think I've done all these years every time you had to leave me? I studied, and I practiced just like you always do. I read the same old dusty tomes you did, I sat through the lessons your collection of holocrons had to teach me. If you're worried that I'll lose my childhood, you're too late daddy. I gave up that ignorance long, long ago."

 

He was baffled, completely taken aback. How had he not known about all this, about his own daughter?! He knew the answer was in their long times apart, but it still didn't make sense. How had he not felt the change in her, this sudden, strong change that turned a curly blond haired little girl into the young woman standing before him? His mind was racing, looking back through nearly a decade of exchanges between them to find the subtle differences, but all he could see was his little girl. Rose, how did you...

 

"The weak deserve their fate. Isn't that right, daddy? Regardless of whether or not you can protect me, my fate is my own, and whatever happens to me happens because I am not strong enough to stop it." Her words were stronger now, forceful, as if she knew in her heart what she was saying was true. She was saying his words, the very same faith behind the words, unwavering and unquestionable. Whatever changes she had hidden from him, conscious or not, were now freely pouring out now as if she had been damming it up for years, desperate to tell him. "If you do not train me to be a Sith, if you don't let me grow strong, you're as good as killing me yourself." She wasn't angry, just spoken matter-of-factly.

 

And she was right. About all of it. There wasn't a think he could say to counter her that wouldn't be arbitrary. You're right. He shot in before her desperate explainations ran on, silencing her for the moment as she waited to hear more, to hear the full extent of his decision and how she had managed to persuade him. When we get back, you'll stand in line with the rest of the apprentices and take rites like everyone else. His words were heavy, nearly defeated, but despite he just jumped at him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing with all her might.

 

"Oh thank you, Daddy! Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

 

This means things will change between us, you realize. He was hurt. She could hear it in his voice.

 

"I know, but it was inevitable." She was beaming at him when she pulled away. "But you'll always be my father."

 

And you'll always be my daughter.

 

The ship split out of hyperspace, and the Dark Lord and his daughter begain their descent.

[Sasori]

A Force Sensitive, Sasori remember when he first heard the words in the abandoned Ossus Library himself, luckily it seems she already knew this about herself and Sasori didn't have to act the role of mentor and try to make her comfortable with her ability. Though, it seems this would have to be the start of something, the Jedi and Sith say that the Force can work on its own, to bring things together for its own supposed destiny. Sasori never thought much of it, thinking destiny was a fallacy, but perhaps it was all based on choice. Sasori could ignore what Cassandra was or...do something about it? He was no teacher, he barely knew the Force himself, but still, possibilities...

 

"Well, we will see in the long run then if I was just lucky to find you, or if the Force has other plans," he said simply and he sat back down in the pilots chair, "and on the subject of credits, you may have some saved up from your CoreSec days, but trust me, I want you to save that for something you really need, a home, a getaway when things go south, someone like that, not for mindless spending because it's fun to spend. And if you are worried about my credits, don't, this is a treat to me, I even have a bit of a surprise planned."

[Cassandra]

"So after this Naboo shopping spree, what are your plans?" She was still wary, but Cassandra was settled. Calmness had came back over the girl after her new friends surprise. Her wry smile came back to her face. Sasori would never do that to her again, that she entrusted.

[Sasori]

"Hmmm" he said audibly, having not actually given it his full thought on pretty much anything since he got back into the galaxy anyhow, "I am not quite sure, to be honest I haven't planned a damn thing since I got back into known space and meeting you was happenstance so I just kinda went with it."

 

A blinking on the dashboard indicated they were closing on their destination, Sasori swiftly took control of the ship as it was about to exit hyperspace.

 

"Hope you are ready for the fun to begin"

[Cassandra]

"I see." The dashboard went off, distracting both of them from that line of conversation.

 

"Let's go play." Her white smile flashed in full glory once again.