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Crown of Slaves

Chapter One

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I didn’t expect to die the way I did. Granted, I don’t exactly remember how I died, but I doubt that it was how I had expected to die. In fact, my first feeling when I awoke into my new existence was an overwhelming sensation of sheer, overpowering incredulity.

Then I felt pain. Pervasive, overwhelming, soul-deep pain. I screamed a scream beyond anything that had ever been torn from my throat in my old life. Allergic reaction to surgery anesthetic? A massage. Hand sanitizer to the eye? A gentle warmth. Hit by a car while walking home from the library? A lover’s sweet caress.

                “Hmm, still alive? I was sure that I felt your life snuffed out like the pitiful, worthless spark that it is, but perhaps there is more to you than I thought, Forty-One.” A cold, cruel voice with an accent that I probably could have identified if I wasn’t in so much pain. I could hardly move, but I was able to look enough to the side to see who was speaking, and what little breath I had managed to gather in my lungs caught in my abused throat.

A Sith Pureblood, a clearly wealthy and aristocratic one, face pale and spotted from excessive use of the Dark Side, was cleaning blood from his hands and regarding me with something akin to aloof interest. The sort of interest that one might see from a particularly apathetic coroner examining a particularly brutalized corpse.

                “W-who, wha…” I wheezed through bloody lips, wracking coughs shaking my body from even that paltry effort, and he raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.

                “Memory loss due to trauma? Perhaps, perhaps. But your signature within the Force has changed as well, in between what I thought was your death and your revitalization. Remarkable. Perhaps you are worth keeping around a while longer after all. I do so enjoy it when my experiments bring about unexpected results and avenues of exploration.”

The agonized questions tumbling through my mind must have shown in my eyes, because he scoffed and sneered, even as he tossed the bloody cloth into a small incinerator. A flick of his fingers had the table I was strapped to moving with a quiet whine, shifting its position until I was entirely upright, and my head sagged along with the rest of my body as gravity did its work on my weakened body. A brief blast of force lightning pouring from his fingertips had me giving a short, choked-off scream as he ever-so-kindly ensured I couldn’t possibly let unconsciousness rescue me from my suffering.

                “If you’re going to give me pathetic shaak-eyes, slave, I suppose I can answer your inane questions, even if you are too pathetic to actually manage voicing them. I can hardly forsake the opportunity to display my intellect, even to so worthless a creature as you.” He chastised me contemptuously, brushing my hair out of my eyes and gripping my chin tightly. “You are an experiment, like your mother before you. When your equally insignificant father impregnated your mother, doubtlessly by rutting on her like a beast on some dark night when the pair of them should have been giving thanks to the Emperor that they had lived another day in service to my House, I took her into my laboratory. As a Master of Sith Sorcery and Sith Alchemy, I could hardly let such an opportunity pass. I experimented on your mother for nine wonderful months, fully expecting for her body to reject you in a futile attempt to save itself, yet you persevered. Of course, there were some minor side-effects. I was quite intrigued when you popped out of her pathetic womb with male and female genitals both. I’ve been biding my time ever since, waiting for you to grow until I could experiment on the child of an experiment. A unique opportunity, well worth the wait. A pity your mother died when I tried to repeat the experiment, I would have liked the opportunity to try and recreate the base circumstance before proceeding. Alas.”

                “M-mons…ter!” I wheezed as stridently as I could, determined to spit defiance if I was to die again, but it seemed only to amuse him. Indeed, he gave a chortle and patted my cheek mockingly as he smirked with a gleam of sadistic glee in his eyes.

                “Oh, I can imagine it seems as such to you, but really, I’m a pioneer in pursuit of greater glory for the Sith. You have no value beyond that which your betters give you, you have no purpose beyond serving my goals. Experimenting on slaves, killing slaves? This is no more murder or cruelty than squashing a buzzing insect or dissecting a tree-frog.” He responded, before turning away, waving his hand again. This time, a pair of humans wearing plasteel armor painted light gray and tan appeared, blasters on their hips and vibroblades on their backs. Imperial soldiers wearing my interlocutor’s House colors, I was sure.

                “How can we serve you, My Lord?” they asked in unison, bracing to attention and ignoring me completely, despite the fact that I was hanging there dripping blood and piss and tears all over the floor like the pseudo-murdered torture victim I was. Maybe they were just used to seeing that sort of thing.

                “Take her, clean her up, drop her in a bacta tank until the medical staff deems her fit to leave it. Ensure that she suffers no further damage that might compromise her usefulness as a research subject, or you will take her place on my table.” The Sith ordered them airily, clearly already having lost interest in me for the moment, as he picked up a sheaf of datapads and headed towards the door. I glared with all the strength I could muster at his back, vowing to myself that I would kill him if ever given the opportunity, and he paused to glance back at me. Doubtless sensing the hostility, and when he saw my gaze he grinned sadistically. “Your eyes are full of hate, Forty-One. Good. Hate will keep you alive, will keep you strong. I look forward to seeing how much I can subject you to before your hate can no longer sustain you.”

Then he was gone, the doors hissing shut behind him, and the two soldiers were releasing my bonds. I collapsed against their hard forms the instant the restraints were no longer holding me in place, body trembling from the physical and emotional stress, and they slung my arms around their shoulders and hauled me through the corridors as I sobbed and whimpered. I could hear the whispers, mocking and pitying alike, from everyone we passed, could feel their eyes and attention grinding against me like stone on stone. Had I been in a better frame of mind, I might have grasped quicker that these sensations were coming to me through senses metaphysical, but as it was, I felt nothing but pain, humiliation, and fear.

By the time the soldiers carrying me reached the medical ward (easily identified by the smell of cleaning solvents and antiseptics), I was drifting in and out of awareness. Darkness encroaching inexorably on my vision, the edges of my sight fading away, I remembered only being surprised to see a dangling cock between my legs through the view afforded by the valley of my breasts as they stripped me down.

I didn’t wake up again until nearly a week had passed. I spent that week dreaming, dreaming of my body’s past. Dreaming of her life, of the suffering that she and her fellow hands suffered at the hands of House Luwian, dreaming of the slowly escalating experiments, and dreaming of an appearance I had never seen. Of course, who knew what I looked like now, but once I had been a pretty (under the dirt and grime and bruises of slave life) blue-eyed blonde of what back home would have been obvious Mesopotamian descent. Pre-Ottoman Mesopotamian from the Hittite region as opposed to the Babylonian, at any rate.

                “Ah, you’re finally awake, hmm?” a cultured voice asked as my mind slowly emerged from oblivion, and my lips quirked in a silly little smile. Despite everything, despite knowing in an instant that everything had not been a horrible, nightmarish dream, despite the words not fitting perfectly, I couldn’t help but picture opening my eyes and seeing Ralof and Ulfric Stormcloak.

Skyrim probably would have been a better afterlife that Star Wars: The Old Republic.

                “I don’t know what amuses you so much, Forty-One, but I suggest you get up immediately. You are to return to your daily labors immediately. I would not recommend dawdling.” The same cultured voice said, now carrying an edge of warning and censure, and my eyes flickered open. I tried to rise, but despite the healing bath from which I had just emerged my muscles were tired and sore, and a strong arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me upright.

The medical wing looked like any other medical wing from the game: stark durasteel, white-sheeted and barely-padded beds, bacta tanks, kolto tanks, and banks of medical monitors and shelves of equipment. The man who stood beside me, a dark-skinned human that looked like he was in his fifties, was watching me with professional concern, and I remembered my manners enough to give him a grateful bob of my head for his assistance.

                “Thank you, Doctor…?” I rasped, voice rusty from lack of use, and he shook his head as he stepped away.

                “Perhaps, if you live long enough, you’ll learn my name and I’ll learn yours. But not today, Forty-One. For now, get on your feet and get moving. There are two guards over by the door that will escort you to your post.” He told me, pointing towards a pair of soldiers, dressed in the same armor as those who had brought me here in the first place.

I stood, working my legs slightly to get the blood flowing, before carefully making my way over to the pair. It was harder than I expected, I wasn’t used to having breasts messing with my center of balance, and I certainly wasn’t used to having breasts and a cock at the same time. I was sure I would be thrilled about being the incarnation of one of my biggest fetishes later, but for now I had far more immediate concerns. Such as the fact that I was now going to be escorted someplace to perform slave labor, which wasn’t exactly encouraging when it came to any plans I might have for freedom or revenge. Slave revolts in the game hadn’t exactly ended well.

They didn’t even speak to me, instead indicating to the door with a silent sweep of the arm. I took a deep breath and made my way through the exit into a long, dark hallway. If I had to guess, judging by the relative quiet of the house through my ears and the Force both, it was the middle of the night. I didn’t even try to restrain the bitter quirk of my mouth. Wouldn’t do for the highborn and free to see me slinking out of the hospital wing after a week, would it? They might start to think my life had value, or that their Lord was a raving lunatic, and that simply wouldn’t do.

I saw little of the manor proper, I was being shuffled along too quickly for that, but what I could see did indicate that my owner was not a minor Lord, though he certainly wasn’t a Darth…that, or he wasn’t a very powerful one. Out the doors we went, and I inhaled sharply as I took in the relatively familiar environs around me. On the plus side, I knew exactly where I was. On the minus side, I was on Dromuund Kaas. There was no other world in the game that looked like this, and though it was dark and stormy, I could sense the vast cloud of Darkness beyond my sight that could only be the Dark Temple.

We made our way through the grounds, wending our way through hedgerows, fountained gardens, and well-disguised security chokepoints designed to resist sieges. Beauty hiding strength, a gleaming glamour over an iron fist.  Appropriate, really, and I actually approved. Form and function could both be had if one was creative and careful enough.

The further we got from the house, the less ornate, the less decorative, everything became, until we reached what could only be the slave barracks. Dull, undecorated durasteel buildings arranged in regimented rows, with a handful of watchful guards roaming the area. There weren’t any fences, but then again what need could there be for fences when every slave has a shock collar around their necks, a collar that could range from a mild sting to instantly fatal with the push of a button? Never mind the fact that anyone who tried to flee would find themselves in a dense forest filled with all manner of horrible beasts, people driven insane by the Dark Side, roaming Mandalorians, malfunctioning battle droids, and a thousand other ways to die unpleasantly. Besides, what did the loss of slaves matter when one could simply acquire more with ease?

                “Returning with Number Forty-One. Lord Luwian wants her kept alive for now, so keep her working but put some effort into keeping her alive. Doc says most of her memory is gone, so you’ll need to give her a rundown on everything.” One of my escorts told the patrolling guard that intercepted us, and the woman nodded her helmeted head and looked over at me as my escorts turned and marched away.

                “Lucky you, Forty-One. We had bets on whether or not you were dead. You just made me five-hundred credits. You’re in Barracks Cresh, on the left. Find your bunk and get in, you’ve got four hours before your shift begins. We’ll go over your duties then.” She informed me bluntly, gesturing towards one of the buildings, which I saw had the Aurebesh letter for C painted on the side in white.

I nodded and scurried away, feeling her gaze on my back. The interior was dimly lit, enough to put one foot in front of another, and I could just barely see the rows of stacked bunks that filled the room, the gleam of a handful of toilets along the back wall. No privacy, but at least it was more than the latrine ditch that I had expected. I carefully made my way through the rows, listening to the whimpers, snores, and soft breathing of my fellow slaves as I searched for the bunk labeled Forty-One. I gave a sigh of relief as I saw that it was a bottom bunk, which meant I wouldn’t have to wake someone (or risk falling in the dark) by trying to climb a ladder.

Slipping beneath the thin, plain blankets, I curled up and closed my eyes, hoping that when I woke up, a path forward would present itself to me.

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Three Weeks Later

I tossed the large stone I was holding aside with a grunt and straightened with a groan, massaging my lower back for a moment and shaking my sweaty hair out of my eyes. For three weeks now, I had been working alongside countless other slaves to maintain and expand the useable area of House Luwian’s estate grounds, and for three weeks I had been slowly and carefully gathering information on my new existence.

It was a handful of years before the beginning of canon, as best I could figure based on what I had heard, three at the most.  My owner was a part of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge and, tangentially, the Sphere of Biotic Sciences, obsessed with rediscovering and improving upon ancient Sith Sorcery and Alchemical rituals lost over the centuries. On the one hand, that meant that there was an insane amount of knowledge to be found inside the estate. On the other, that meant the man worked (at least partially) for Thanaton, probably the least likeable character in the Sorcerer story line. I know it was the point of the story, but Thanaton was such a massive hypocrite that it was legitimately appalling.

I had also, thanks to the reflective walls of my barracks, discovered what my new body looked like, and it was one of the most reassuring things I could imagine, because I just so happened to look exactly like my main Sith Inquisitor character from the game. Barring character creation limitations, of course. Vestara Khai, Darth Inanna, was the name I had chosen for her, and she was intended to fit the concept of femme fatale to the hilt. From my memories, I had once had brown hair and soft green eyes, but given I now had silver-white hair and crimson eyes…well, the things that my owner had done to me had changed my body in many ways.

I glanced down at my arms, seeing the faint glow through the rough cloth that represented the scarlet scars that had been carved into my flesh. Yet more visible representations of the atrocities that Luwian had visited upon my soul and my body in his pursuit of knowledge, atrocities I fully intend to revisit upon him. And I knew exactly how I would do so, as well.

From the rumors amongst the rest of the slaves, Asmu-Nikal, the daughter and middle child of House Luwian, would soon be returning home from Korriban. In fact, most seemed to agree that she would be arriving sometime in the next day or so, at least according to the network of scuttlebutt that flowed between the slaves responsible for the estate grounds and the manor itself. If I could get her attention, somehow, and become a member of the household staff, I could try to gather more information and knowledge of the Force. Enough to break my chains.

I felt my presence in the Force, my not-insignificant aura within it’s fabric, writhe and swirl with agitation as I scoffed at myself and hefted another stone. Such a vague and nebulous plan was hardly going to do me any good, was it? No, I had to resign myself to the fact that I could be here for years before I managed to put anything into place. This wasn’t a video game anymore, it was real life, and convenient plot twists wouldn’t just…

“Put that aside, Forty-One. Your presence is required immediately.” One of the camp guardswomen, a Brentaali named Kiana, instructed coldly from behind me, voice modulated by her helmet, her presence in the Force radiating resignation.

That was…not encouraging.

                “Of course, guardswoman. I live to serve the House of Luwian.” I promptly obeyed, tossing the stone aside and dusting my hands off as she back-faced and began marching back the way she had come. I didn’t have a choice but to obey, of course. Certainly, I could be on my way to my death, if Luwian had finally tired of my existence, but I had to hope it was more than that. Without hope, I was doomed anyway.

We made our way to the gardens, and I raised an eyebrow as I witnessed several servants and slaves gathering the boxes and bags that surrounded a female Pureblood dressed in basic, but well-made armor. The kind of armor a Sith Apprentice would wear. They turned to face us, and I felt my breath catch slightly at the sight of her. She was beautiful, her skin a deep wine shade, her eyes a soft golden gleam, her hair a long and lustrous black. That alone would have made me happy, but she was one of those Purebloods whose facial spines accentuated the curves and angles of their face rather than jutting out in ways that would be distinctly dangerous for any close encounters of the romantic kind.

                “My Lady Asmu-Nikal, daughter of Lord Luwian. Slave Number Forty-One, retrieved from her work camp in accordance with your orders.” Kiana reported with a salute, and the Pureblood arched an eyebrow before tilting her head slightly, indicating for the armored woman to step aside. She obeyed, and the Pureblood slowly strolled over to me, every movement as fluid and graceful as any dancer could have hoped for.

                “Hmm. She is as you described her, which I confess is surprising. Exotic and attractive slaves are not typically used for hard labor, especially not ones that radiate such a presence in The Force. A foolish and baffling waste of so fine a specimen.” Asmu-Nikal mused, looking me up and down before circling me like a predator, eyes raking my form with an interest that was palpable. “So, you’re the presence I sensed upon my arrival on the grounds? The second-generation experiment of my father’s? The one that he failed to kill despite his best efforts?”

“I am Vestara Khai, and I was too strong for your father to kill, yes.” I responded, standing straight and proud as I let slip a trickle of Force energy in her direction, coiling it around her own presence in the Force, tiny strands latching onto her like the gossamer threads of a spider’s web. An appropriate metaphor, on many levels. Also a dangerous move, given her trained nature, but one that I could risk given my inexperience. It would be all to easy to pass it off as accidental or beyond my control if it was noticed.

Not the only dangerous move I had just made, of course, and I could feel the violent intent radiating off of Kiana as she prepared to remind me of my place for speaking with such impertinence. Fortunately for me, Asmu-Nikal lifted a hand towards the guardswoman, halting her imminent harm to my person.

                “You are bold, brash, and brave. Foolishly so. However, your strength is undeniable, despite its profoundly unhoned nature. As is your exoticism and your beauty, despite the scars and callouses and filth that cover your body.” She remarked, sounding distinctly amused, folding her hands behind her back and regarding me for a moment longer before continuing. “You are wasted in your current tasks, and from now on you will serve as one of my personal slaves.”

The female pureblood’s tone was thoughtful, lacking the cruel edge of command from her father and brothers, and I blinked as she turned and started walking towards the manor. I stared at her back, immobile for a heartbeat, before a light shove at between my shoulder blades snapped me out of my surprise.

                “Move it, Forty-One. You don’t get to stand around and stare just because you’re a household slave now.” Kiana ordered briskly, and I nodded choppily as I obeyed, hurrying after Asmu-Nikal as she crossed the intervening distance to the entrance stairs and began to ascend. I fell into place behind her right shoulder as she waved her hands, opening the doors with a pulse of the Force, and swept through into her home.

“Sister, welcome back.” Tudhaliya, the elder of the sons, was waiting for us in the entrance hall, greeting his sister with a nod before narrowing his pale-yellow eyes at me. He was impressive, even by pureblood standards, tall and broad and possessing strong facial spikes. A veritable crimson wall that breathed and moved, I had pegged him as a Juggernaut the first time I had seen him. “What is this mutated freak doing here instead of the grounds?”

                “That ‘mutated freak’ is my personal slave, now. You two and father were wasting her on physical labor, she is far too pleasing to the eye to use for nothing more than lugging rocks about.” Asmu-Nikal responded, raising her eyebrow and giving her brother a slight frown. She visibly paused as a thought occurred to her, and she tilted her head thoughtfully. “You know, brother, I would have expected you to try and get your perverse hands all over a specimen this fine. You’re not normally known for your restraint when it comes to pretty females, willing or otherwise.”

                “If the freak had a nothing but tits and a cunt like it ought to, it wouldn’t be allowed out of my rooms.”  Her brother bit back with a scowl, folding his arms across his chest as he glowered at his sister, Force presence bleeding irritation. “Instead, it’s got tits, a cunt, and a cock, thanks to Father’s experiments on its mother while it was in the womb.”

                “Oh?” Asmu-Nikal responded, glancing back at me with a curious gaze, and I blushed slightly at her regard. She hummed lowly, looking me up and down once again, eyes lingering on my crotch and chest, before looking back at her brother. “Fascinating. I had thought her something simply due to her survival and her presence in the Force, but a human chimera…truly, she is unique.”

                “A chimera? Hardly, daughter, do not disgrace those noble paragons of our race by applying their label to this twisted creature.” The regal and refined voice of the Lady Luwian, Nikal-Mati, chastised coolly as the lady herself descended the stairs like a queen with her younger son, Asmi-Sarruma, at her side. “Chimera are gifts from the Emperor to the greatest of Dynasties, intended to spread the power of their blood wider and richer than any regular man could manage. This slave is the result of your father’s sorcery, nothing more.”

                “Mother, little brother, it’s good to see you both again.” Asmu-Nikal responded, inclining her head respectfully, though she didn’t budge besides that, and her tone was unyielding as she continued. “Experiment or not, natural or not, she is wasted on her previous tasks. The majority of the slaves I had before I left for my trials were nothing compared to her, and if I am to attend balls and banquets and roam the city markets with a slave to serve me, it will be one that is unique and memorable.”

She grinned, eyes alight with wicked, mischievous delight as a thought occurred.

                “Ah, for the jealousy of my peers, when their handmaidens are compared to mine. All of the other girls in my age group have twi’leks or togrutas or battered, mousy little human girls. Bland, uninteresting, generic things that might as well be clones for all the difference between them…”

                “You, meanwhile, will stand apart with this one?” Nikal-Mati finished the thought dryly, shaking her head in what I could have sworn was fond exasperation. “You and your competitiveness with those girls, it truly is something else. It is one of the reasons why your father and I knew that you would do well on Korriban, you know.” She paused, the slightest amounts of mirth and affection that had reached her expression and tone vanishing. “I trust you did well?”

It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t a statement. It was a veiled warning, delivered by a fully trained, adult Sith matriarch protecting the reputation of her House. Daughter or no daughter, Asmu-Nikal was clearly in danger if her answer was unsatisfactory.

                “Of course I did, mother. The trials barely challenged me, and I have been taken as an apprentice by Lord Acharon here on Dromuund Kaas.” Asmu-Nikal assured her proudly, and I felt my eyebrows rise. Had I been less used to my new life, I might have blurted out something foolish, but the knowledge that my new, personal mistress was the apprentice to the future Dark Councilor for Biotic Science was quite interesting indeed. Unsurprising as well, given her father’s interests and talents. Acharon was doubtless hoping to gain access to the knowledge of House Luwian and it’s ruling Lord.

                “Good. Your belongings have been sent to your rooms. Take your new slave and show her the duties you expect her to perform. Remember that she belongs to your father first, so if he decides to make use of her once again, you must obey.” The Lady waved her hand in dismissal, gesturing for her sons to follow her as she started from the room. “The evening meal is at the usual time. Your father and I look forward to you regaling us with your feats on the homeworld.”

                “Of course, mother.” The daughter murmured with a slight bow, watching her mother until the older woman was out of sight, before huffing out a soft sigh and heading for the stairs whence her mother had come. I padded after her, eyeing her hips through her form-fitting equipment as subtly as I could. It wouldn’t do my plans any good to get shot for oogling my owner, after all, even if it was obvious that she actually had the superior breeding that Purebloods liked to constantly gloat about.

As we made our way through the manor, I eyed the artifacts lining the hallways. Some were purely ornamental, some (like the warblades that probably dated back the likes of Karnass Muur and Ajuunta Pall) were as functional as they were beautiful. The vast majority, however, were ancient. Either my owners were an ancient family, or had destroyed one and looted their corpses. Even getting lucky in the field of Archaeology couldn’t explain all of this, otherwise.

                “In awe of my family’s wealth, Vestara?” Asmu-Nikal asked coolly from ahead of me, and I refocused my attention on her to see that she had not even turned to look at me. Well, that was unsurprising. She could probably sense through the Force that my attention had not been on her and that I was impressed, so guessing the cause would have been easy for her.

                “I am impressed by the history, milady, that I see in the artifacts.” I responded honestly, and she hummed in agreement and curiosity.

                “And how do you, a slave, know anything that there is to know about the history behind any of these items, Vestara Khai?” she asked, and the words were not nearly as sarcastic as they might have been coming from someone else. Provided that said ‘someone else’ didn’t just beat me or kill me for my ‘insolence’ in daring to think at all. I was silent for a moment, trying to figure out a response to a question I hadn’t expected to receive, before opting for a safe answer, and a generic one.

                “No one notices slaves, milady, and will speak of many things in front of them that they would not speak of in front of those they consider their equals.”

She hummed again, looking and feeling thoughtful, as we arrived at the threshold of her wing. It was emptier, less decorated, than that of her parents, a subtle reminder from them to her that she was both a child and not the heiress. A display of the disparity between their wealth and her own, to ensure she didn’t forget her place.

                “Welcome home, mistress. I’m glad to see that you passed your trials and earned your rightful place as the apprentice of a powerful lord.” Another slave, a cute and petite little thing with soft brown eyes and raven’s-wing black hair, dressed only in strips of sheer clothe arranged in a V that ‘covered’ nothing more than her nipples and her crotch, greeted us.

“Vestara, this is Kela. She has been a maid of mine since I was a child. She will show you the bunk rooms and give you a brief overview of the rest of the slave quarters. When I return from the evening meal, the two of you will be waiting for me here to perform your duties.” Asmu-Nikal told me, waving a hand at the girl, who glanced at me and gave an imperceptible nod of acknowledgement before returning her attention to our mutual mistress. “For now, Kela will assist me in preparing for my meal. You will wait in the corner of the room and observe, silently.”

“Of course, milady.” I murmured with a slight bow, eyeing Kela with a great deal of interest. Her nipples were visibly aroused, peaking behind their essentially irrelevant coverage, and I could see that her pubes were well groomed and taken care of. The way she was dressed as well as Asmu-Nikal’s earlier comments also had me wondering about the pureblood’s tastes when it came to companionship. As I followed the pair down the hall, I found myself looking forward to my tasks for my new mistress, whatever they might be. I had a path forward now, and if I had my way both my ‘mistress’ and her cute little human pet would be mine.

After all, the way of the Sith was the way of Passion.

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So, new story, yay? I’ve been intending to do a SWTOR story for…a very, very long time. Finally decided to do it now, mostly thanks to reading Surviving in a Galaxy Far, Far Away by SelfAwareDegenerate over on A03.

Also thanks to the fact that I’m burning out on all the Worm content I’m writing. Three of my six stories currently are Worm, and it used to be four of seven before I put Because of the War on hiatus.

I presented two different starting scenarios to SAD, asking his opinion, this being one and one taking place starting on Korriban, and he suggested that starting with the game content and going over the MC’s backstory in bits and pieces through her interactions with those around her was probably a better idea.

I agreed at first, but after two or three chapters I felt I was stepping too much into the way that his story started, and decided to go this way instead.

Chapter Text

The next story that will be updated will be Dawn Is Just a Heartbeat Away.

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Two

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Asmu-Nikal was…less than pleased when she returned to her quarters that night, having (presumably) just finished being grilled extensively by the other members of her family over dinner right after getting off of the shuttle from Korriban. In fact, she was so displeased, she banished me to the slave quarters and told me that I was to remain there until Kela came for me at some point the next day. The last thing I saw as I exited the room was Kela flying through the air to land on the obscenely large bed with an oomph of air leaving her lungs from the impact.

Well, that confirmed all my suspicions about Asmu-Nikal’s tastes in the field of carnality.

I got turned around a couple of times within the servant-corridors, though one of the night-staff slaves (on her way to clean Tudalhiya’s ‘playroom’, or so I gathered) was kind enough to direct me properly, to my profuse thanks. A handful of minutes later, I finally arrived at the slave quarters, and found myself both impressed and immensely pleased.

They were, compared to my old home in my old life, quite unpleasant. Little more than a single large room with rows of very, very basic beds (more cots than anything else, really), a single large refresher with showers and toilets alike off to one side, it shouldn’t have seemed so wonderful. Yet, compared to what I had lived in as a labor slave out on the grounds of the estate, it was wonderful. Practically luxury, as a matter of fact.

It was also full of naked or near-naked people, some of whom were sleeping and some of whom were…not. The group was mostly human, although there was a strong representation of young female togruta and twi’lek as well, which would hardly have been a surprise to anyone at all if they took even a heartbeat to think about it. I felt my cock stir in my pants as a Rutian girl and a crimson-and-white Togruta fell onto one of the beds, mouths locked together as they mutually masturbated one another, right in the open in front of everyone.

                “You must be the new girl assigned to Asmu-Nikal’s wing. Kela will appreciate the help, especially if the lady keeps her too busy to get all of her chores done in a timely manner.” A voice said in a conversational tone, as a matronly green-skinned twi’lek stepped up beside me, observing the same sight as me with little apparent distress or embarrassment. Turning to look at me, she gestured to my other side, where another twi’lek the same age as herself, this one a Rutian, was now standing. “My name is Ann’anu, and this is Ayy’blen. We’re in charge of the enslaved house staff. Welcome to a whole new world, garden-girl.”

                “It’s certainly different. More pleasant, to say the least.” I responded a bit absently, eyes locked on the duo as my cock continued to harden.

                “Pay more attention to us and less attention to them, new girl. You can play with them later if they’re willing, but I need to tell you how things work around here.” Ann’anu chastised me, smacking me across the shoulder, getting a flinch and a small ripple of sparks across my body in response. She jerked her hand back, staring, and I flushed slightly in embarrassment.

                “Sorry about that. I don’t have any control over it yet.” I apologized honestly, not wanting to cause any harm to my fellow slaves, certainly not during our very first meeting. These people were my natural allies, and could either end my life or make it truly miserable if they were so inclined. The last thing I wanted to do was push them in that direction, even inadvertently. “My name is Vestara Khai, and I am indeed the new slave for Asmu-Nikal, brought in from the grounds. She sent me down here to get familiarized with things while she…destressed with Kela.”

                “Destressed, huh? I like that.” Ann’anu said slowly, eying me carefully, nervously, and I gave her my most reassuring smile. While it didn’t set her at ease, it did seem to bolster her nerve enough for her to ask questions. “What’s with the sparks? You some sort of Sith slave?”

                “Not a Sith, not unless they decide to start sending people like us to Korriban, but I can wield the Force, even if I’ve not the slightest idea how. It’s one reason I’m still alive.” I responded carefully, not nearly confident enough in my knowledge of the two women beside me to talk about what our mutual master had done to my family or myself. The last thing I wanted was to give the man a reason to finish me off in a fit of pique because someone blabbed to him in the hopes of being rewarded.

                “Hmph. We’ll need to talk about that later.” Ayy’blen grunted from my other side. “Your responsibility will be for cleaning the personal suite of the daughter of the House, Asmu-Nikal. You will never, at any point, address her as anything other than ‘Mistress’. The Lord and his sons are to be addressed only as ‘Master’ or ‘My Lord’, and the Lady of the House it to be addressed as ‘My Lady’. Your sleeping clothes, not that most bother with them down here. Your work uniform will be provided tomorrow. Sani-steams may be taken before your day begins or after it ends, never both.”

A bundle of clothing was shoved into my arms, which automatically cradled it to my chest to keep it off the floor. I looked around at all the other slaves (male and female alike), many of whom were staring at me with undisguised interest, and then raised my eyes to the room around us, searching for the changing room.

                “You think we get private changing rooms, girl? We’re slaves, we don’t get privacy and we don’t get to have shame. Strip and put the Emperor-damned clothes on so we can show you how to perform your duties.” Ann’anu chastised me sharply, realizing why I was hesitating, and I flushed uncomfortably before beginning to obey. It didn’t take more than a handful of seconds to remove the laborer’s outfit that I was wearing, and the room froze and stared even harder than they had before.

                “Emperor’s Grace, what did they do to you?” Ayy’blen blurted, and I tilted my head in confusion even as most of those around us backed away, though a handful couldn’t seem to help letting their eyes slip down to my cock every few seconds. The twi’lek and togruta pair, for example, now paying a great deal of attention to my semi-hard shaft, which began to swell further still under their attention. “Your body, girl, what is all this?”

Oh, right. The ‘tattoos’ carved into my body and the aforementioned cock. Yes, I could see how that would be shocking and disturbing to my fellows.

                “Our beloved Master experimented on my mother while I was in the womb, which is where the cock comes from, but that wasn’t enough for his curiosity it seems. My memories are…not entirely whole at the moment, but he took me from the laborer’s barracks a month or so ago for further experimentation. What you see before you are the results of two generations of his efforts.” I responded, voice not remotely as calm or as even as I would have hoped, though I’m sure that no one would have held its slight tremor against me under the circumstances.

“It’s, uh…unique. Exotic, even.” Ayy’blen stuttered slightly as she examined me, before shaking her head (lekku flapping slightly from the action) and turned away with a shooing motion of her hand. Clearly, she meant for me to clothe myself, and I did so quickly, surprised and gratified by how much nicer the fabric felt on my skin than my old clothing. Once I was clothed, she returned her attention to me, launching into a lecture about the rules of serving House Luwian and the general form my tasks would take for Asmu-Nikal, though she warned me that the Lord’s daughter would doubtless have more specific requirements to ensure her wing suited her tastes, as well as additional, unknown tasks. She finished with a dire warning. “Kela will help you every step of the way, and your Mistress was a generally patient sort before Korriban, but take no chances. I will not have you getting us all decimated because of incompetence! If you start to lose your ability to perform, we’ll deal with you before the masters deal with us all.”

Of course the Empire punished even non-rebelling slaves with execution, and in the delightful Roman style too, where groups of ten drew lots and the person with the shortest piece of straw was beaten to death by the other nine. At least the Romans had restrained the practice of forcing a group to kill their own comrades to soldiers who committed capital offenses and settled for just killing slaves outright!

Through agonizing methods such as crucifixion, yes, but still!

Similarly, the fact that the slaves were willing to mete out fatal justice on those who rocked the boat or couldn’t carry their own weight was thoroughly unsurprising. They wouldn’t like it, would probably even regret it, but these two women were clearly responsible for the safety of the entire household slave-staff, and they would do whatever it took to protect their charges.

                “Fair enough, but it will not be necessary for you to take any actions against me.” I assured them proudly, intending to be both excellent in my duties, and to seduce Asmu-Nikal as soon as possible. Not that I would breathe even a hint of the second goal to a single living soul, even aloud to myself. One could never know who was listening, either through organic means or through electronic monitoring. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the slave quarters and general quarters were bugged, either by Luwian or his rivals.

“Hmph. We’ll see, girl. You will bunk next to Kela, third bunk in the fourth row from the far wall. Keep your cock to yourself unless you’re invited to do otherwise, or we’ll cut it off and choke you with it. That said, we don’t stand on ceremony around here. If you want to fuck, fuck. Any of us could die tomorrow, might as well enjoy today however we can, with whatever and whomever we can. Sex, stims, spice…as long as you can do your duties, no one here gives a damn.” Ann’anu informed me bluntly, pointing out the bunk in question, and I blushed lightly at the rest of her words. I would have to ask Kela for more of an explanation, but I supposed that her words, on the face of things, were hardly surprising. If you were a single breath away from a painful death at any given moment, you would probably do whatever you could to keep the pain of your existence away.

My briefing apparently completed, I found myself left alone as the two head slaves departed, whether back to their duties or to do something else I neither knew nor cared. Instead, my eyes were locked onto the pair of girls I had spotted earlier, who had returned to their fun while occasionally casting glances in my direction. Or, more accurately, towards the tent in my pants. Blush deepening, I hastened over to my bunk and slipped underneath the blankets. I had always pictured/dreamed of SWTOR being a more hedonistic place with myself center-stage, and the changes to my body were something of a thrill as well, but I hadn’t expected to be so unprepared for that dream coming true. Now that I had the potential opportunity for indulging, I was too shy and embarrassed to do so!

I was nearly asleep, an hour later, when Kela finally stumbled in, what little clothing she had askew and even more useless than it had before. Her skin gleamed in the low light, soaked with sweat and cum, covered with bites and scratches and other marks that made it clear just how well our mutual mistress had made use of her. I reached out tentatively with my untrained senses, fumbling through The Force, and smiled slightly at the genuine pleasure and even happiness that Kela was radiating. That, in and of itself, didn’t necessarily mean Asmu-Nikal was actually a decent person or owner, given that a sufficiently mentally and emotionally broken person could consider even the worst treatment as something good, but it was encouraging. Slumping into her bed, she was asleep in seconds, and my smile broadened as I felt myself slipping away.

I could work with this.

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The next morning, Kela was shaking me awake bright and early, the chronometer reading only five local time, looking somewhat refreshed, though still thoroughly fucked. She shamelessly stared, licking her lips with a hungry glint in her eyes, as I blearily tossed by blanket aside and revealed my morning wood standing tall and proud.

                “Mhm, you are indeed a unique specimen, just as Mistress said. Go on, get dressed in your work clothes, and I will show you through our morning routine.” She said, settling back onto her bed with an expectant look on her face. I didn’t even bother asking if she was going to turn away, because it was patently obvious that she had no such intentions. I stripped out of my clothing, my cock bobbing into view as I stepped out of my pants, and Kela gave a soft moan in the back of her throat at the look of it as I turned and quickly folded the sleepwear before putting it neatly on my bed and reaching for the other outfit. It was not different in the least from what Kela was wearing, which meant that my larger bust and significantly larger crotch were essentially in full view. Deciding to try a Hail Mary to kill my erection before it got me killed, I turned my rudimentary control over the Force towards my own body, trying to tamp it down. It took longer than I would have liked, given the circumstances, but when I eventually succeeded I adjusted my clothing as best I could.

                “So, uh, Asmu-Nikal likes women, huh?” I asked hesitantly after looking down at myself. I had to admit that I enjoyed the outfit, the sense of power I was getting from flaunting my beauty, my physical form, and Kela nodded with a grin.

                “Oh, she adores women. She’s a better sort than her brother and father, she doesn’t get aroused by butchering people or hearing them scream in agony, but she is just as libidinous as they are. Better at concealing it and occasionally even interested in making sure her partners cum, but don’t doubt for even an instant that she is just as obsessed with hedonism as any other pureblood.” She confirmed cheerfully, before frowning lightly and glancing down at my cock, which was now totally softened thanks to my efforts. “That being said, don’t do anything foolish. If she gives you any spice, because she will share sometimes, don’t let it go to your head so much. Interesting or not, nice compared to the menfolk or not, she might kill you if that third leg of yours starts doing your thinking for you.”

                “Don’t worry, I’m not stupid enough to go panting after a Sith fresh from her trials, or at least be obvious about it. I’ve survived this long with my libido, I can keep on surviving.” I assured her confidently.

The doubtful look on her face should have warned me that I might be writing checks with my mouth that my self-control couldn’t cash. Ten minutes later, and I could feel the strain of my desire against my desperate attempts to control it with the Force as I watched a thoroughly naked and painfully attractive Asmu-Nikal doing her morning stretches.

Her muscles, muscles that indicated she was in peak physical condition, rippled and move beneath silken crimson skin, skin that was unmarred save for a few minor scars or pockmarks. A legacy of her time on Korriban, no doubt, and it was an indicator of both her power and her talent that such minor wounds were the only visible indicator of her time there. Besides the aforementioned muscles, of course.

                “I can sense your lust, Vestara Khai.” She remarked absently as she shifted from a deep lunge into what would, back home in my first life, have been called Downward Dog. That didn’t do my control any good, given that her back was to me, which meant I got an eyeful of full, taught buttocks and a tight crimson cunt. I felt a wave of amusement and satisfaction waft off of her as I swallowed deeply at the sight, and I started to turn away to preserve what control I had left. She either heard me or sensed it through the Force, because the moment my weight shifted, she spoke sharply. “You do not have my permission to look away, slave. Keep your eyes where they belong: on me.”

                “You are a cruel, cruel woman.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them, and the amusement and satisfaction she was radiated skyrocketed in response.

                “I am Sith.” She responded smugly, as if it was obvious. Which, of course, it was, even if Sith cruelty usually trended more towards the behavior her father and brothers were known for rather than the awful, awful suffering she was currently inflicting upon me. Despite my efforts to keep a leash on my libido, my cock was beginning to stir and stiffen, and she chuckled lowly. “Ah, there it is. Your base desires are finally freeing themselves. I am surprised by your control, competent for one so untrained, and I confess I have never before seen the Force used to prevent physical arousal before. Your reasoning for doing so? And do not give me some tripe about ‘showing me due respect’, I know from even our brief encounters previously that such a claim would ring false.”

I closed my mouth with a clack, having been about to proclaim that very thing, and I frowned lightly as I weighed my potential words. She was right, that empty flattery and quiet submission were not traits I possessed. My quiet contemplation, however, was not what Asmu-Nikal was interested in.

                “Your reasoning, slave, now. I am growing impatient!” she barked, rising from the pose and turning towards me, posting one hand on her hip and glowering.

                “Because walking around with a fucking erection your owner gave you is probably pretty fucking fatal for a slave, and I don’t have plans to die due to one of your guards puts a blaster bolt in my skull just because I got horny!” I snapped in response, defensively folding my arms under my breasts, ignoring Kela’s sharp, indrawn breath of dismay as my Force presence writhed and swirled under my loosening grip. “Because, for all I know, the minute I pop a boner you’ll kill me because you only like natural women, or take offense, or get off on getting people turned on and then killing them for ‘forgetting their place’!”

I fell silent, chest heaving and throat tight, really quite sure that I was about to have to fight for my life against a trained Sith, if only an apprentice, in the center of her House. Kela certainly seemed to think so, judging by the way she was ever-so-subtly power-shuffling away from me, towards the farthest corner of the room that she could reach. I flexed my fingers, as if I were trying to limber up, not that having limber fingers would help in the least in this situation.

We stared at one another, the room thick with tension, and sparks played across my body as she slowly sauntered towards me, still radiating amusement and satisfaction. The closer she got, the more anxious I became, worries and theories spinning around in my mind. Should I strike first, prevent her from getting any closer, or would my attempt to defend myself preemptively actually cause the very violence I was afraid of? She didn’t seem angry, didn’t seem intent on violence, but she was a Sith! And I wasn’t exactly trained, so how would I know if she was concealing her intentions?

                “I can sense your fear, but also your determination. You are ready to fight to the death, even when escape would be impossible. Fascinating. You truly are like no slave I have ever met.” She murmured, tilting her head to the side as she contemplated me, coming within arm’s reach. “You are honest, even when it could get you killed. You are brash and brave, but not without wisdom or cunning. You act like you were enslaved only yesterday, rather than being born into it. As for your suspicions…”

She reached out, flicking my loincloth aside with a brush of the Force, my swelling shaft springing free and slapping down into her hand, which cradled it gently. I gave a hiss of mingled desire and worry, well aware of how much damage she could cause from a position like that, and she smirked at me.

                “I don’t hate cocks, slave, I just hate the people they’re usually attached to. People like my dear brother, who does get pleasure from arousing those beneath him and then murdering them once he’s had his fun. I wouldn’t have had you dressed up like this if it wasn’t for my own pleasure at seeing your desire for me.” She purred, stroking along my length with her thumb, and I shuddered as that very desire flooded my aura, threads flowing down the thin gossamer strands that connected us. She inhaled deeply and moaned low, her smirk taking on an expression of lazy satisfaction. “Ah, this sensation…I will never get enough of it! The caress of your want, the heat of your desire, the cloying scent of your need…there is no greater feeling in all the galaxy.”

I had known that purebloods were hedonists, it went with the territory, and I had known from what had happened with Kela and our outfits, not to mention the warnings I had received last night, that Asmu-Nikal was no different. That being said, that intellectual knowledge had in no way prepared me for the fact that she literally got off on being wanted. I was sure there was some psychological discussion to have there later, but for now what was left of my brain was distinctly stuck on the fact that a gorgeous, athletic, exotic crimson-skinned beauty was holding my cock and gently stroking it with her thumb.

                “I think I will come to enjoy your company a great deal.” She said finally, after another minute or so of soaking in my aura and all the carnal desires that filled it. Releasing me, with a gleam of amusement in her eyes at the soft groan of disappointment I could not restrain, she stepped away and turned to saunter towards her ensuite bathroom, hips swaying, and as my eyes followed her every step, I caught the unmistakable shimmer of wetness on her inner thighs. “Come, the two of you will prepare me for the day, and you, Vestara, will inform me of your knowledge in the Force, no matter how rudimentary.”

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Chapter Text

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Three

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Nearly a month had passed since I had been made a member of Asmu-Nikal’s personal staff, and I had discovered quite a few things that had not been readily apparent out on the grounds.

This world was not entirely like the one shown in the game, though in hindsight that should have been obvious. The games, movies, and books have of course been required to adhere to certain ratings and guidelines to make them appropriate for public consumption, limiting the inevitabilities of life to vague references and subtle innuendos, but now that it was ‘real’, I was seeing them all first-hand.

For one thing, the house slaves fucked a lot. They fucked each other, got fucked by the guards, got fucked by the free members of the staff, and occasionally even got fucked by our masters themselves. The Sith Empire, outside of the restrictions of the world I had come from, was a truly hedonistic thing. People pursued pleasure however and whenever they saw fit, with whomever or whatever they saw fit. As long as duties could be carried out, no one gave a single, solitary damn what we did with ourselves or each other.

I had gotten that impression during my first night living in the barracks, but after three and a half weeks first impressions had become solidly-displayed facts. People lived life to the fullest that they could, with something akin to unrestrained glee. Many of the slaves leveraged this to their advantage, earning the favor of one person or another in order to improve their lot in life, even if only slightly.

Tudalhiya, the eldest son, was the most prolific target of such efforts. He was libidinous in the extreme, fucking his way through men and women alike with a rapacious hunger that would have been impressive if he were not so cruel to those he used, leaving them bloody and bruised despite their best efforts to earn his favor and gentler treatment, if he didn’t kill them outright. I was fortunate in the extreme that he had never had any interest in me, even before his sister had called him out on it, because (as he had said to her then) while he was perfectly willing to rape and kill men and women alike, someone who was both was apparently a step too far.

Such monstrous behavior aside, his hedonism, this pervasive culture of sex, drugs, and countless other kinds of indulgence (to whatever degree was possible given one’s rank in life) was enthralling to me. So different from the one I had come from, so much more in line with my own kinks and fetishes (minus, of course, things like wide-spread rape, or pedophilia being legal as long as it was a slave, and other such things that were thoroughly appalling no matter the universe), and all that in addition to the fact that I was my favorite character from SWTOR.

Oh yes, I was quite convinced by now that I was the Sith Inquisitor. Ignoring the fact that I looked like my character, had the very backstory I had crafted for her, and could wield the Force, there was the matter that I had heard Lord Luwian ranting more than once about ‘that upstart blonde cunt’ pushing for Force Sensitive slaves to be sent to Korriban for evaluation. Two years or so sounded about right for that particular argument to work its way through the Sith hierarchy, especially as the casualty counts continued to roll in. The Empire would be desperate, absolutely desperate, for Force users to engage the vengeful Jedi Order soon enough.

Perhaps some of it was wishful thinking, but all of that combined with the timing…no, I was sure that I was my character. Of course, as reassuring as that was, I wasn’t going to rest on my laurels either. I wasn’t stupid or delusional enough to believe that simply being the Sith Inquisitor character meant that I was guaranteed to live long enough to head to Korriban, nor that I would waltz through the trials with one hand tied behind my back.

This was real life now, my life, not a fun game. There were no respawns, there was no over-levelling, there was no exp boosts or Cartel Market to provide armor and weapons early. There were no game mechanics making things easier, or more streamlined, or simpler to understand to minimize hassle and maximize enjoyment. There was just me and my brain, which is why I had started writing a ciphered journal recording everything that I could think of that would either endanger me, or I wanted to change, or that might prove useful for bargaining or earning connections.

At any rate, this new existence of mine was certainly shaping up to be a very interesting one, not least of which because of what was currently happening. Yet another slave orgy was in full swing, naked, sweaty bodies writhing and twisting and moving, the air filled with a symphony of sin. Moans, groans, cries of bliss and pain, the slapping of damp flesh against damp flesh. The scent of sex and desire filled my head, its cloying scent overpowering even the mingled haze born from the clouds of spice and t’bac smoke that snaked up and away from several of the beds.

I had never indulged, myself, in any of the festivities. Too anxious about my appearance and my extra organ to risk rejection, too afraid of ostracization to reach out to those around me.

Every night before tonight, if she wasn’t with Asmu-Nikal, Kela had shown up at the end of my little cot, naked, dripping with sweat and cum, trying to tempt me into joining the fun with her body and her filthy mouth, from which flowed promises of pleasure and a great deal of praise for my physical form. Praise that, thanks to my metaphysical senses, I knew to be entirely legitimate. It was all quite flattering, and (when combined with everything else) made restraining myself very hard indeed. When I refused, she had always returned to the debauchery, indulging herself for hours before crawling into the cot adjacent to my own.

Now, she was straddling in my lap, naked as the day she was born, one arm around my neck as she cupped and squeezed my shaft through my thin pants with the other, her face buried in my throat, lips and teeth gently working the skin over my pulse.

                “Mmh, Vestara, are you finally going to play with me? I’ve been trying to tempt you for ages, but you just won’t play along.” She murmured between nips, an audible pout in her voice, and I shuddered as she gave me a particularly good squeeze paired with a short lick.

                “Kela…” I half-sighed, half-moaned, trying to keep myself under control. “Kela, you know what Luwian did to me…”

                “Oh, I do, I do, and I can’t wait to see it up~close~and~personal!” she purred in acknowledgment, wiggling around in a way that snapped a couple of the few remaining threads in the string (I couldn’t even call it a rope anymore) that made up my self-control. Still, I continued to resist my urges. I had no interest in having it look like I, Luwian’s pet experiment, was taking advantage of or abusing my fellow slaves. Then, Kela said something that shook my determination to the core. “Even limp, you’ve got the biggest cock I’ve ever seen, I could lose myself in those eyes, and those tattoos are simply entrancing~!”

                “You don’t…I mean, you all won’t…?” I asked, stumbling over my words, tone taking on a plaintive note, and she snorted in a rather unladylike fashion, pulling away from my throat to look me in the eyes as her free hand started working on the waistband of my pants, loosening it and pulling them down enough to free my shaft.

                “Don’t worry so much, Ves. No one here has a problem with you or what Luwian left you with. In fact, most of us would bend over for you in a heartbeat if you would woman up and make a play. We all know you’re as much a victim of his as the rest of us.” She assured me, rubbing the flared head of my cock against her soaked folds before lining herself and sinking onto me without hesitation.

We moaned together, low and loud, and the audience I hadn’t really realized was there murmured their approval amidst giggles and laughter as Kela clutched my shoulders and froze, head thrown back and chest heaving with half my cock still stuck outside of her body.

                “A little too much for you there, Kela?” I couldn’t resist teasing, to the renewed amusement of those around us, feeling a swell of primal pride as she huffed out a laugh and nodded a bit sharply.

                “You’re…you’re even bigger than I thought you were, and I saw you when Mistress took a look at you. Force, I’ve never had something as big as you inside me. I need to take this slow.” She admitted, much to my surprise. I had actually expected her to boast about how fine she was and push on, given both the amount of experience she had and her generally lustful nature. She set to work, slowly working herself up and down my length, taking me a bit deeper every time, until our hips had finally met and I was buried inside her as deeply as I could be from this angle. “Gods, you’re fucking deep. I swear you’re hitting my womb.”

                “You know just what to say.” I responded huskily, rolling my hips experimentally, my previous hesitation and embarrassment gone in the light of both the pleasure of having Kela’s tight, wet heat wrapped around me, and the approval, lust, and amusement I could feel radiating throughout the room. She gave a gasp and then a low chuckle of approval, shifting her weight and coaxing me to reverse our positions. That was something of a surprise, Kela typically (so far as I had seen) preferred to be on top here in the barracks. Not the most surprising thing, desiring to be in control in the most intimate of things when all the rest of her life (including whether she would still be alive at the end of the day) was so utterly out of her control. Still, if that’s the position she wanted to be in, quite literally, I certainly wasn’t going to object.

The new position had me sinking another inch or so deeper, and Kela wrapped her legs around my waist with a cry of encouragement as I started to thrust into her. The feeling was incredible, my cock far more sensitive that the one I had had back ‘home’, and I hadn’t done anything remotely sexual since I had arrived here, first out of inability (free time and energy to rub one out hadn’t been in great supply out on the grounds), then out of shame and worry about how those around me would react. Sure, they might have seemed aroused or interested that first night, when I changed, but how could I trust that such an opinion would last?

I shook my head slightly, banishing those thoughts from my mind as I continued to fuck the girl underneath me, our swinging breasts brushing against one another, the scraping sensations to my nipples sending jolts of electricity skittering through my veins. From the aura bleeding out of my partner, I could tell that she was having just as much fun as I was, nerves lightning up and firing off as she gasped and moaned in delight, her joy and arousal bleeding into the Force, turning the world around us into a vibrant, gleaming place. A maelstrom of primal pleasure, with the two of us at the heart of the vortex.

                “Gods, yes! Fuck me, Khai! Nail me to this fucking bed and leave an imprint of your fucking cock in my cunt!” she cried out, squealing in delight as I twisted one of her nipples sharply, before moaning into my mouth as I leaned down to claim her mouth with my own. I could taste the remnants of spice on her lips, the faint, almost sickly-sweet tang to her tongue. Carsunum, most likely, her preferred strain. Asmu-Nikal, I had learned, preferred ryll, while I generally avoided the damn stuff as much as possible. I had goals, and I had none of the Force purification training or anti-narcotics required to fend off the worst of the side effects like she did. Thank the Force that no one had invented glitteryll yet, even someone like Asmu-Nikal would be consumed by that stuff.

Not to say I didn’t use intoxicants on occasion, but I went for milder substances. The ones that were more akin to marijuana, if by comparison spice was cocaine or heroin.

                “Who could think a Sith’s favorite pet could be this fucking tight?” I growled in response, some genuine surprise in my voice. There wasn’t a day where Kela wasn’t getting fucked by someone, but she was still almost uncomfortably tight around me. “It’s like fucking a vice!”

                “Mistress taught me well.” She purred in response, her cunt rippling around me. “Mmh, all those exercises she had me do, all the special diets, all the practice, before and during her time on Korriban…and now you’re getting to enjoy the results.”

She paused to muffle a scream of pleasure by latching her teeth onto my shoulder as she rippled again, this time spraying sweet-smelling fluid across my crotch and lower stomach. Her first orgasm with me, then, and hopefully with many more to follow it. She shuddered, tightening and loosening around me, whimpering as I continued to fuck her steadily all the way through the aftershocks, steadily building us both towards more pleasure.

                “Oh, Mistress taught me well, but even without her preparing me, I would have been tight for you. This cock of yours isn’t natural, Ves, and I couldn’t be happier about it. So thick, so long, so hard and hot inside me~!” she finally pulled herself together enough to continue, starting to buck up against me again, quite literally meeting me in the middle, to both of our enjoyment. The sound of our hips slapping against one another, the faint squishing as I plunged into her depths and withdrew, our mingled cries and moans and gasps. The scent of our sweat and cum, the meshing of our presences in the Force, the feeling of the pleasure all around us…it was no wonder that Sith culture was so hedonistic, when they could sense one another’s pleasure, feed it and feed off of it, like a metaphysical feedback loop.

Really quite succubustic, actually. I would have to think about that sometime in the future.

I wasn’t going to last long, I knew, not with all the circumstances taken in. There were too many points of stimulation, too many sensations both old and new, and it had been too long since I had last been with someone like this besides.

I intensified my efforts, thrusting harder and deeper, as hard and as deep as I could, shaking the cot beneath us as I tried my utmost to fuck her into a stupor, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she tried to breathe through the rough treatment, before making an enthralling keening sound in the back of her throat as her orgasm washed over her once more. Gritting my teeth, I pulled out as my own orgasm began, spraying cum across her skin.

I’d never cum that hard, like a character from some porn story, jets of hot, milky seed pouring out of me again and again and again, until she looked like the star of a bukkake film. The white fluid coated her skin, dripping from her face and breasts, some of it lingering even in her hair. I could feel the shock from around us, yes, and the arousal as well, as the observers saw what happened. Kela, for her part, stared down at herself for a moment before glancing at my softening shaft and giggling in a distinctly wicked way.

                “Mmh, that hit the spot. Good thing you didn’t cum inside me. With this much cum, stuffed right into my womb? I would have gotten pregnant for sure.” She mused, sitting up and rubbing the cum on her breasts around like it was a moisturizer, before licking her lips thoughtfully. I could see her stained eyebrows raise, feel her spike of delight and desire as the taste settled on her tongue, and she popped to her feet. “Come on, Khai. We’re headed for the sanisteam. I’m going to need your help getting all of your cum off of me, or I’ll be filthy in the morning~!”

I, and most of the room’s other inhabitants, watched as she set off, weaving her way across the room, dripping cum all the way. I was numb with pleasure, mind fogged from bliss, so much so that it took me a moment to realize what she had just said, and I shot to my feet and hurried after her. Whether that was an invitation for shower sex or not, I wasn’t sure, but far be it for me to ignore the helpless maiden begging for my assistance.

It was not, as it turned out, an invitation for shower sex, as that would take longer than slaves were permitted to be in the sanisteam. It was, however, an invitation for a shower blowjob. I just hoped that Asmu-Nikal didn’t find out about this before I could figure out if she would kill me for fucking her personal plaything.

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                “Mistress, Vestara finally fucked me last night!” Kela chirped the instant Asmu-Nikal was awake enough to understand what she was saying, much to my profound horror and embarrassment, though horror was edged out by bafflement when Asmu-Nikal gave her an amused look as she rose (entirely nude) from her spacious bed and moved towards her designated dressing space, even as I automatically went about gathering her first outfit for the day.

                “Oh, did she? That must have been quite enjoyable, given her girth. Are you sore, Kela?” she asked, and Kela nodded vigorously.

                “Oh, yes, Mistress, very sore! I’m pretty sure I have a bruise on my cervix from how hard and deep she was fucking me, and I had to take two sanisteams to get all of her come off of my skin and out of my hair!” she confirmed as we robed the Pureblood, sounding inordinately pleased, and Asmu-Nikal hummed and looked at my crotch in appraisal. Under her regard, my shaft began to harden, and she gave me a pleased smirk as I resisted the urge to keep it down as I had before. She had made it quite clear that I would be punished if I did.

                “Fascinating. Not only do you have a manhood, but to be able to produce so much sperm...you grow more intriguing every day, Vestara. We will discuss this more when I return from breakfast.” She mused thoughtfully, turning away with a swirl of her silken robe, padding out of the room with a hypnotizing sway to her hips.

She wasn’t gone long, in fact she was gone so briefly (compared to most previous mornings, that is) that her departure from the meal probably bordered on insolent. It was hardly an hour before she was sweeping back through the door, though to my concern I noted that she was scowling darkly rather than wearing her customary, confident and lazy smirk.

                “My father has ‘suggested’ that I go and visit Darth Acharon. Evidently, he wishes to organize an exchange of knowledge between my master and himself now that my apprenticeship is confirmed. The two of you are to remain here until I return. Amuse yourselves as you see fit, provided it does not include revisiting your activities from last night. If you’re going to fuck in my suite, you shall damn well be doing it for my pleasure, not only your own.” She barked, irritated enough that she redressed herself in her lightly armored apprentice robes without our assistance, before storming from the room.

Kela and I stared after her for a full minute, concern radiating from the both of us, before my lover(?) sighed and, after gesturing for me to follow, headed for one of the side-doors. Opening it, she stepped inside, and my breath caught in my chest as I followed. It was a library, a beautiful one, with tall, carved wooden shelves, a stone fireplace, and lavish seating arrangements. There was even a couch in the Roman style, a klinai, directly across from the fireplace. I took a closer look at the tome-filled shelves and gasped aloud at what I saw, almost unable to believe my eyes. Many of the tomes were actual tomes. Physical texts, with pages, something I hadn’t imagined would be particularly common in this universe. Not with datapads and dataslates and other such hand-held computers.

                “This is Mistress’ favorite room. Her personal library, with her personal research and study into the mysteries of the force. All those handwritten texts are her private files, the studies and contemplations that she doesn’t want to risk being shared publicly.” Kela told me, and I nodded in understanding. Datapads and dataslates could be remotely accessed and wiped, even with modern cybersecurity, but a handwritten, pen and paper book had to be physically accessed to damage it or steal the knowledge it contained. “The other texts, the dataslates and such, are more…public files. We will wait in here until she returns. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve spent a day simply sitting in this room.”

                “A woman who favours knowledge over pure power. Unusual amongst the Sith, I imagine.” I mused thoughtfully, walking over to the shelves and running my fingers along some of the spines as Kela settled herself comfortably into a chair. It was one thing for a Sith to belong to the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, and another entirely to actually gather or create knowledge without the intention of using it to empower themselves. That Asmu-Nikal favored knowledge for its own sake, as indicated by the library being her favorite room, and not a laboratory or a training field or a sex dungeon, was as intriguing as it was surprising. Why would someone, raised amongst this House, with her father and siblings being the way that they were, be like this? Could it simply be a matter of being a black sheep, as the saying went? Was she simply biding her time, waiting for the right moment to make her move, whatever that move happened to be?

I had no idea, but I was really rather curious to find out, despite the fact that it could very well be dangerous for me to be at ground zero for…whatever may or may not actually happen, when it did or didn’t happen. An idea occurred to me, and I made my way to the klinai, laying down and regarded Kela, even as she raised her eyebrows and gave me a mildly censorious look. Probably because I was using Nicky’s chair, but I didn’t care. She was half-way across the region, dealing with the knowledge that she had been chosen by her master so that he could get stuff from her father.

                “So, how did you end up here, Kela? How did you end up working for House Luwian, and how have you grown so close to Asmu-Nikal?” I asked casually, and the other human blinked at me for a moment, surprised by the apparent non-sequitor, before visibly shrugging her confusion away.

                “My parents were part of a slave rebellion when I was just a baby. Lady Nikal-Mati was one of the Sith that helped put the rebellion down, back before she retired to run House Luwian. She found me and decided to bring me here, to raise alongside her own daughter. The perfect, eternal companion for Asmu-Nikal.” She explained, and I had to admire the simple cleverness. Not only was she showing some mercy, which was a nice enough thing as it was, but she was ensuring that her daughter would have a loyal, dedicated companion that would never leave her side willingly. Smiling softly, she continued. “As strange as it might sound to you, I love Mistress with all my heart. We have spent almost every day of our lives together for the last twenty years. I have never had a more loyal friend, a fiercer protector, or a better lover. Whether she is being tender and gentle or using me for all I am worth, she never leaves me unsatisfied and never pushes me too far.”

I raised my eyebrow, somewhat surprised by the genuine, heartfelt praise that flowed so freely from my fellow slave, and I mentally adjusted a few plans in light of her newly-revealed openings. Turning Kela against Asmu-Nikal would clearly be impossible, but fortunately I had no intention of harming Asmu-Nikal in anyway. Quite the opposite in fact, which meant that entrenching myself in Kela’s good graces could lead to Asmu-Nikal presenting me with her own openings.

I smirked slightly at my accidental double entendre, cock stiffening a bit more, and Kela flushed slightly and looked away.

                “Keep yourself under control, Khai. Mistress said you weren’t allowed to fuck me right now.” She tried to chastise me, though the breathy tone of her voice and the glances she snuck towards my crotch rather undermined her efforts.

                “Mhm, a pity. I’ve always wanted to fuck someone in a library. Of course, a huge amount of the thrill is lost when there isn’t anyone around to catch us being naughty and defiling such a solemn place. But, you’re right, I suppose. I should hate to get you into trouble with Nicky.” I responded, eyes blatantly tracing her form with approval, before I lifted a hand and focused, slowly and carefully floating one of the hard-copy documents over to myself. Flipping it open, and ignoring the nervous disapproval that Kela seemed to radiate at my behavior and my nickname for the Sith woman who owned us both, I began to read.

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The details decided by the voting for Vestara's genitals will be included in the next sex scene, they weren't actually needed for this ones! Next update will be Nothing Is True, and I might be posting a new story after that, I've been prepping for a while. Tomb Raider (2013) and Lost Girl, perhaps with more crossover elements later on.

Chapter Text

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Four

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In retrospect, perhaps, having my already-angry owner return home and find me sitting in her private library, reading her private notes and contemplations on the Force and other related subjects had…not been the wisest idea in the world. Of course, I hadn’t intended for that to be the case, but I had gotten rather absorbed by what she had to say. Some of her thoughts were genuinely profound, and more than a few of them could be considered close to heretical or treasonous, and I had found myself with a small pile of flimsi and a pen as I jotted notes of my own down.

That I would have the temerity to not only read her notes, but make what one could consider corrections of them…well, it had left her momentarily speechless, before I could feel {Wrath} starting to build on the edge of my awareness, bubbling within her, and I wondered (not for the first time, and hopefully not the last) if I had finally found that one particular line that would be fatal for me to cross, no matter how interested in keeping me around Nicky seemed to be.

So I played a rather risky gambit.

                “Your treatise on the nature of the Force and the mutual, reciprocal influence between it and the sentients of the galaxy was remarkably forward thinking for someone with your background. I especially enjoyed your notes on your personal experiences with the simultaneous enticement of the darker passions and the resultant paths they can lead you down, and the occasional feelings of chastisement or disappointment you seemed to experience when you used your talents for certain actions.” I remarked casually, ignoring the way Kela was anxiously looking between us, as I jotted down another note on my current flimsi, giving her a somewhat absent smile of approval. The same sort of approval one would receive from a distracted, working classmate during a debate or discussion or peer review in school.

                “Oh? And what would a slave, who cannot even keep her hands off of her owner’s property properly, know about the ‘forward thinking’ involved in any discussion on the nature of The Force? Especially one that has told me she knows virtually nothing of it’s mysteries?” Nicky growled, glowering darkly, though I could also sense the slightest hint of {Curiosity} lacing its way through her aura, and I gave her another smile.

                “I lied.” I admitted baldly, a touch of bemusement in my tone, ignoring the way Kela cringed at the words. “I’m quite surprised you didn’t sense that fact, given your apparent talent for sensing deceptions. I had actually thought that you had, and simply were playing along with me. Curious.”

                “Any particular reason I shouldn’t kill you for your arrogance, your trespass, and for the lies?” the Sith asked in response, a bit of {Amusement} edging out the {Wrath}, alongside the growing {Curiosity}.

                “Besides the fact that I’m gorgeous and have a thick cock?” I jested, shifting my legs slightly to cause the soft bulge of my crotch to sway enticingly. Gratifyingly, it drew both their attentions, however briefly in Asmu-Nikal’s case. “You like me. You think I’m entertaining, intriguing, bold, and you’re curious about me. You want to know, to understand. It’s one of the things that sets you apart from the rest of your family, the rest of the Sith.”

                “My father and master seek to understand the Ancient Knowledge and Biotic Sciences, otherwise they would not have focused on the arts that they have. All Sith study and learn to understand the Force, to better serve the Empire.” She responded, one raven eyebrow lifting, a small smirk quirking her lips as I pouted slightly at her ignoring (verbally at least) my pseudo-flirtations. Still, she seemed inclined to debate now, rather than kill me, so progress was being made!

                “Your father, your master, the majority of Sith…yes, they seek to understand, but understanding itself isn’t the goal. Power is the goal.” I put the document and my notes aside, focusing on the discussion entirely.  “You, on the other hand, seek to understand for the sake of understanding. You do not focus only on what gives you what you want, and ignore all else around it. You lack the…tunnel vision, I suppose, of your contemporaries.”

                “Hmm. You say power is the goal as if that is a negative thing, a dangerously, and contemptuously, Jedi-like position to take.” She pointed out, looking as though she was actually considering my words. Kela was glancing between us, visibly confused, clearly wondering if we were going to fight, fuck, or have a philosophical debate.

I was hoping for the last two.

“Of course, possessing power over oneself and those around you is not inherently a bad thing, no matter what the Jedi believe, but too many Sith are just as flawed in their beliefs. They see power as an end, not a means. They gather power for the sake of possessing it, but rarely use it for anything other than impressing its existence upon others.” I argued, flapping a dismissive hand at the implication that I was in anyway ‘Jedi-like’. “Power without purpose is pointless, Asmu-Nikal. It is what you wield your power for that makes it worth gathering. Protecting your family, elevating their position, ensuring your children live a better life than you did. Serving your star-nation, defending its ideals, enforcing its laws and ensuring its prosperity. Goals such as this are what gives value to power, whether in the Force, with more typical weaponry, or even with money, politics, or influence.”

“An interesting opinion and summation.” She said slowly, gesturing with her hand as she used to Force to lift one of the spare chairs from the other side of the room towards me, sitting down in it as soon as it was settled. Kela, whether out of some training or a desire to keep me alive I didn’t know, scuttled over and settled at her feet, resting her head on the pureblood’s thigh. Nicky’s {Wrath} faded almost entirely as she absentmindedly began stroking the submissive girl’s hair.  Abruptly changing the subject, if only slightly, she suddenly asked. “You mentioned my treatise on the nature of the Force and the influence it has on sentient creatures, as well as their influence on it. Elaborate on your opinion.”

“Well, you’re right, of course, that the relationship between the Force and sentients, especially those capable of using it deliberately, is reciprocal. However, it’s flawed in the same way that all Sith and all Jedi have flawed opinions on the nature of the Force.” I answered candidly, shifting slightly to a somewhat more comfortable position now that I wasn’t writing any longer. “Hardly your fault, of course, both orders have tens of millennia of dogma and tradition, not to mention oceans of blood, between them and their origin. What better way to ease the struggles of conflict than to make your enemy as different as you, to make them as ‘other’ as possible?”

My tone was definitely edging towards both the sardonic and the bitterly contemptuous towards the end, but neither of the women across from me were gauche enough to comment on it. Instead, both seemed to be regarding me with focus and scrutiny, and I was reminded once again that, for all her hedonistic, submissive air-headedness, Kela was not stupid. She didn’t have the expression of someone who was paying attention out of politeness, or knew how to fake paying attention, but was genuinely listening to and evaluating my words. That probably shouldn’t surprise me, she had lived this long at a high rank in the residence of a Sith Lord fond of experimenting on living subjects and pregnant women, whose eldest son routinely needed hazmat-suited servants to clean out his ‘playroom’. An idiot, even one beloved by the daughter of the house, wouldn’t have lasted long. And they certainly wouldn’t have made it so long without picking up a few things.

                “Flawed in what way?” Kela asked, even as Asmu-Nikal opened her mouth, and I shrugged languidly, breasts bobbing lightly with the movement.

                “Both still adhere to this belief in the ‘Dark Side’ and the ‘Light Side’, and what they mean.” I flicked a handful of fingers with a moue of distaste. “I suppose it’s not incorrect to conclude from our perspective that the Force has sides that act differently or resonate in different ways with sentients, but I think that such a view is more due to our nature as mortal, sentient creatures. Our worldviews are limited to our experiences, what we have seen and felt and heard and been taught. Moreover, we are limited in our understanding of the universe by our very natures, so of course we should try and define something like The Force through our own windows of experience and comprehension. But windows are all they are.”

I paused for a moment, well aware that I was starting to lecture, and on a dangerous subject at that, but frankly I couldn’t resist the opportunity. Even if it wasn’t necessarily the wisest course of action.

                “The Force is, if you will forgive the turn of phrase, a force of nature. The Force of Nature, really, and while no one would accuse Nature of being ‘fair’ or remotely interested in ‘the right thing’, what it really is, is neutral. Morality is a construct of sentients, nature doesn’t need it or want it. What is, is. What happens, happens. The Dark and Light Side are within sentients, not in the Force itself.”

                “I’ve never heard such a theory, though it is compelling.” Nicky mused thoughtfully, and the fact that the Sith as an organization wouldn’t contemplate such things was no surprise to me, just like I wouldn’t be surprised to learn the Jedi didn’t either, except perhaps people like the Shan family or the Green Jedi of Corellia. “How, then, do you explain the definitive examples of behavioral changes from those that uses one side or the other, or the very tangible, very different sensations and feelings that the two opposing sides offer to those that can sense them?”

                “I will admit that I am not sure, having yet to experience the Force more deeply than my own inexperienced fumbling, but I have long considered the idea that the Force, being the essence of nature, of life, therefore appeals most easily to the more primal parts of life. We sentients, for all our intelligence and works of technology, are little more than animals. Therefore, it appeals most deeply to the most animalistic parts of us. Eating, fighting, fucking, obviously, but also peace of mind and being with your family, your pack or herd or what have you.” I admitted, before meeting Nicky’s eyes and smiling slightly. “Besides, as I said, I believe strongly in the reciprocal nature of the Force.”

                “Ah…” the soft, contemplative exhale Asmu-Nikal gave was really quite satisfying, I had to admit. This was really quite fun, I was enjoying the discussion and the breadcrumbs immensely. “So, you propose that the Force is as much influenced by as we are by it. Since the Force is a part of all living things, all living things influence the fabric of the Force. That’s why you mentioned our long histories. After so many thousands of years of Jedi and Sith, and the unfathomable numbers that have fought and died in the service of our orders, the Force itself has started to mirror our ancient rivalry.”

                “I believe so, yes, at least to some degree. I don’t think we can entirely shape it, of course. Sentients can influence nature, but not change the way it functions.” I nodded in satisfaction, my smile growing as she grasped my meaning. “In truth, I think that it would be very hard to tell where the Force ends and our own primal desires begins. Is the Dark Side feeding from and fueling your brother’s…proclivities, or is he pushing the twisted desires he feeds into the Force and perceiving an echo or approval of some sort where there is none?”

Asmu-Nikal didn’t respond immediately, clearly giving the matter some very serious thought, before meeting my eyes.

                “Who are you, Vestara Khai?” she asked softly, intently, and I could feel that the scrutiny was not just with her eyes, but the Force itself. I made no attempt to block it or shield it, letting the sensation wash over me calmly, my smile never faltering in the slightest. “You’re like no slave that I have ever met. You’re well-spoken, intelligent, clever, never mind well-versed in theoreticals of the Force. You show just enough deference to survive, but when you act boldly, you do so with cunning. Even this discussion, you disarmed me by reacting unnaturally to being faced with an angry Sith, confusing me for so much as the heartbeat required to pique my interest and draw me into a debate.”

                “Vestara Khai is Vestara Khai.” I ‘explained’ enigmatically, lips quirking slightly in amusement at the brief spike of {Exasperation} that radiated off of her in response, and I shrugged before she could speak. “What do you think I am, Asmu-Nikal of House Luwian?”

                “I would have thought you were a Jedi Infiltrator, or agent. A zealot or a patsy that they sent in to replace some slave that you closely resembled in order to gather information on the Empire. Or perhaps an agent from a rival dynasty, sent here to gather our secrets to help engineer a strike against us. And yet…” her voice, still so very soft, trailed off, and I raised an eyebrow curiously.

                “And yet?” I prompted, when she remained silent for more than a handful of heartbeats.

                “And yet you have not acted as such a person would act. Rather than keep your head down and avoid notice, you seem intent on drawing my eyes to you. Talking back, debating, even arguing at times. Lusting after me, taking Kela into your bed despite the possibility that it would turn me against you…no spy, Sith or Jedi alike, would risk their mission like that. Not one competent enough to be given such a task, at any rate.” She elaborated, leaning back in her chair, still stroking Kela’s hair rhythmically. A motion that I could tell was as soothing for her as it was for the other slave girl, who was really quite tense thanks to the discussion going on above.

                “Well, rest assured that you’re quite correct: I am not a spy for another dynasty, for the Jedi Order, or any other organization you can think of. On the contrary, I value my independence, and my life, far too much to have put myself in this situation on a whim.” I agreed, before giving a rogueish wink. “As beautiful as the two of you are, I’m afraid that I wouldn’t consider the two of you worth pursuing to that degree.”

I paused thoughtfully, wondering if that was perhaps harsher sounding than I had intended it to be. I certainly didn’t want to give the impression that they meant nothing to me, only that I wasn’t led around by my cock.

                “Of course, since I am here, I shall simply say that, were I actually some sort of spy or agent, I would certainly consider turning my coat to further enjoy your company. The two most beautiful women on Dromuund Kaas, and I get to spend every day with them.” I sighed wistfully, cock hardening as I recalled their naked forms, quite aware that I was probably pushing my luck but not caring in the least.

                “Hmph. I should think that you would give most Sith Lords a run for their credits with your perversions.” Nicky shook her head, seemingly in disappointment, before looking down at Kela with a gleam in her golden eyes. “Kela, why don’t you go and help Vestara with that. I’m rather in the mood to enjoy myself, after the day I have had, and the two of you seem quite primed to give me an enjoyable show.”

The human girl didn’t waste a moment, quickly crawling over to me and reaching for my loincloth, deftly moving the thin, straining strand of sheer clothe aside to free my cock, which was promptly engulfed in an eager, warm mouth. I hummed in satisfaction, rolling my head on my shoulders, my left hand burying itself in her hair while my right rose to begin toying lightly with one of my swollen nipples. Asmu-Nikal gave a soft sigh, eyes sliding partway closed as our mutual lust filled the room, and I could feel her ‘pulling’ the sensations into herself through the Force, even as her own lusts flowed into me through those ever-so-thin strands of connection I had built between us the day we had met.

                “Mhm, good girl, Kela. You’re such a good little cocksucker.” I praised the girl kneeling before me, and it was entirely genuine praise at that. While she hadn’t yet managed to take me completely to the root, she was giving it a damn good try and getting better with every stroke. “Mmh, I have to praise you on your training, Asmu-Nikal. Barely a hint of a gag reflex to be found in this little whore’s nice, tight throat.”

Asmu-Nikal huffed a soft laugh, even as Kela made a happy sound of affirmation, the vibration around my cock causing the pleasure I was feeling to take a sharp spike, and I felt a ripple of satisfaction as the threads between myself and Nicky widened slightly, the lust in the room rising abruptly in response, drawing a soft and sharp gasp from the pureblood’s throat.

                “Mhm,” she gave a throaty sigh, radiating satisfaction as she shuddered from the tremors of a small, but no less sweet, orgasm. Splaying herself rather bonelessly on her seat, she lazily planted her chin in the cupped palm of one hand and regarded us with mingled lust and interest as the other drifted between her thighs and began to almost lazily rub at the glistening flesh there. “Vestara, you seem to be quite familiar, even comfortable, with making use of submissive whores. Seems a strange skill for a slave to have, and I can see quite clearly this is no skill that you have picked up since becoming mine.”

                “Familiar? Comfortable?” I hummed thoughtfully, even as I ever-so-casually used the index finger and thumb of one hand to pinch Kela’s nose shut while using a firm grip on her hair to hilt myself in her throat and keep her there as I talked. “Well, that is certainly true, though I should think to add ‘talented’ to that evaluation, at the very least. I am indeed a talented woman.”

                “Hah, and I suppose that is all that you will say on the matter, just as you didn’t mention how you know so much of the Force?” Asmu-Nikal asked, in what would probably have been a groan if she wasn’t so relaxed and aroused.

                “Well, you can hardly expect me to reveal all of my secrets to you in a single session, can you?” I asked, delighting in the way Kela’s throat was now spasming around my length as her lungs began to run dry. “If there is one thing my time here has taught me, Nicky, it’s that you adore mysteries and secrets and discovery.”

As I hissed the last word, I pulled Kela free, enjoying her drooling visage as she gasped for air, before pulling her down again. Her lung capacity was not as well-trained as the rest of her, it seemed. Well, I was uniquely suited to ensure a proper education for her, wasn’t I~?

I could feel the Sith’s anger spike in response to my irreverent use of my chosen nickname for her, only for it to be washed away by pleasure as I ‘pushed’ my lust and the impression of the pleasure Kela was giving me through our tenuous but growing connection to one another, giving her another miniature orgasm. It wouldn’t be too blatant, under the circumstances, disguised by the lust that was clouding every thought and breath for all three of us. Even if she had noticed, whether she currently had the wherewithal to truly recognize and comprehend my efforts for what they were, never mind doing something about it, was very much an improbability.

Of course, she knew that I was manipulating her, even if not through the Force. She knew that I was using my understanding, my impression, of her nature against her for my own benefit, and I could feel a tinge of amusement even as two slender fingers curved up inside of her body, eyes drifting back and forth between my own and Kela.

It was a dangerous game to play, but my entire existence was currently dangerous. Calculated, if not safe or careful, gambles were not just advisable but necessary to me right now.

                “Kela, don’t ignore my pussy. You’re supposed to be pleasuring me, and that means pleasuring all of me, not just the most prominent part of me.” I absently instructed the slave between my legs, scooting forward slightly to ease her access, as I kept my eyes locked onto Nicky’s, seeing my own lust and passion and enjoyment reflected within their golden depths. Her mouth never abandoning my shaft, Kela obeyed, one hand cupping my balls to both caress them and move them out of her way as she began to give some attention to my more feminine parts.

Sparks went off behind my eyes as slender digits slipped and slid and stroked a portion of my body that I had essentially ignored thus far. I had thought my new cock, which was far more sensitive than my old one had ever been (probably because it was a mutated clit, or something of that nature), had felt amazing. Now, though, even from these lightest of touches and slimmest of penetrations, I was learning that my cunt was even more so.

With the double-ended physical stimulation and the intoxicating, all-encompassing sensations being fed to me through the Force, it didn’t take long for me to cum, coating Kela’s throat and fingers in equal measure. I felt her pleasure spike as she came in response, slowly drawing her head back as my spurts slowed to catch the last of them in her mouth without prompting.  Letting my length slip entirely from her lips, she tilted her head back and opened it wide, showing off the pool of thick, milky-white liquid for my approval.

                “Good girl, Kela. Why don’t you go see if Nicky wants some as well?” I suggested, getting a soft gasp of surprise from my owner, her fingers hitching slightly in their drive to push her into an orgasm of her own, as Kela promptly turned and crawled back the way she had come, sitting back on her haunches at Nicky’s feet and tilting her head back to display her offering. Asmu-Nikal looked tempted for a moment, I could see it, the rapid flicker of movement as her tongue darted out to whet her lips, before I could feel her {Resolve} harden.

                “No, I don’t think so. Finish your little snack, Kela, and then use that tongue of yours to finish me off as well. I’ve enjoyed the show, but there is more to be done today than the pursuit of sensual pleasure.” She declared, removing her fingers from herself and spreading her thighs wider, and I couldn’t help but pout slightly at her in disappointment, something she ignored with casual ease. Still, I consoled myself by knowing that, though she had eventually refused to keep playing along, I had made titanic progress with her today.

Mostly due to her not killing me when virtually any other Sith would have done so, of course, but as progress went such a result could hardly be beaten. The fact that she seemed legitimately interested in both my mind and my body was a boon, and she seemed inclined to discuss the Force with me, rather than punishing me for contemplating its secret.

Which might, in time, mean that she was willing to teach me how better to wield it.

I had no interest in arriving on Korriban with nothing more than my own theories and intricate plans in my arsenal of survival. No, I intended to arrive there with at least some prior experience with the Force, and preferably the support of a certain daughter of a certain noble house as well. Not just to make surviving Korriban easier, and more likely to boot, but to provide the allies I would need when Zash and, likely as not, Thanaton turned on me.

Oh, I had hopes that I could prevent my second ‘master’ from betraying me as he had in the game, but I wasn’t naïve enough to put any faith in the idea. Thanaton was, or at least purported to be when it suited him, an ultra-traditionalist Sith. Of course, given his background and the fact that he had/might/would abandon the sacred Kaggath, he was a massive hypocrite. He valued tradition only when it was convenient for him, cared about the Sith and their people when it suited him, and abandoned everything the moment life became difficult.

Of course, preventing Zash from betraying me was impossible. She was dying and in desperate need of a new body, and I was less than inclined to become a meat puppet or to force someone else into such a fate. Even if there was someone I might dislike enough to consider the matter, I certainly couldn’t trust that having a fresh body would make Zash suddenly become a trustworthy and willing to teach me all of her secrets.

Besides, it would be a great irony to bind her to my will when I mastered Force-Walking, taking every scrap of knowledge and every hidden secret she held before banishing her into the fabric of the Force. She had been obsessed with immortality, with gathering all kinds of ancient and arcane knowledge or artifacts, and I was duly inclined to ensure such things didn’t go to waste after her demise.

Tucking myself back into my loincloth, I turned my attention back to my companions as Asmu-Nikal came in Kela’s mouth, and felt my flagging erection revitalize as Kela crawled up Nicky’s body to kiss her deeply. Not only was it a deeply attractive sight, but the knowledge that the pureblood was even now tasting the mingled flavor of she and I together on Kela’s lips and tongue was highly arousing.

No doubt sensing my arousal, the crimson-skinned and golden-eyed beauty broke the kiss to look over at me with a carefully constructed look of boredom, eyes lingering on my throbbing bulge for a moment before returning to Kela.

                “I believe I am done with you for the day, Vestara. Return to the slave barracks until morning, or until I summon you once more, whichever comes first.” She dismissed me, pressing her thumb against Kela’s lips for all of a heartbeat, before my fellow human took the appendage into her mouth to suck and lick. I got to my feet some-what steadily and began making my way towards the door into her bedroom proper, only to pause as she continued. “I will unravel your mysteries, Khai. I hope for your sake that they, and you, do not disappoint me. Otherwise, my curiosity and interest in such secrets might no longer outweigh my pride.”

 There was a gently squeeze from an invisible hand around my throat for the briefest of moments, a reminder (as if I needed one) of just whom I was dealing with. Taking a moment to brush off the somewhat unexpected but regrettably unsurprising threat, I glanced over my shoulder, giving her the most confident, coquettish smirk, I could.

                “I look forward to your efforts, Asmu-Nikal. I will show you a whole new world. A new, fantastic point of view. I hope you are not so brittle as most Sith would doubtless prove to be when put to the test between the hammer of my mysteries and the anvil of your traditions.” I responded, cribbing a handful of lines from various places without an ounce of shame. “Enjoy our Kela. I look forward to seeing you come morning…if you can be sated until then.”

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Chapter Text

As always, consider making updates and filling out the TV Tropes page for this story, or any of my others for that matter!

As usual, see the end author’s notes for the next updates and theoreticals!

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Five

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                “Put this on.” Asmu-Nikal greeted me to her room three days later with blunt words and an imperious finger pointing at an outfit that had been draped over the back of a chair. She had kept me at arm’s length since our chat in the library, but while she had more or less ignored me, she hadn’t done anything to punish me or otherwise display displeasure with me either. If I had to guess, she had spent the intervening time contemplating our conversation and its implications in between carrying out her duties to her family and her master. “You and I are travelling into the city today, and I intend to have you properly on display in case we should come across any of those petty, small-minded little cunts my mother insists I socialize with.”

                “Ah, I was hoping to come along to one of your little tea parties one of these days.” I remarked with a quirk of my lips as I moved towards the indicated clothing, stripping out of my usual outfit as I went. “I’ve so been looking forward to admiring the other beautiful daughters of Dromuund Kaas.”

I glanced over at her with a gleam of amusement.

                “Naturally, none of them could possibly compare to the ethereal beauty of my dearest Asmu-Nikal. To her svelte body, her smooth crimson skin, her ample breasts and plush…”

                “Unfortunately for you, Khai, you will not have the opportunity to ogle my so-called ‘peers’ just yet.” She informed me blandly, sounding and feeling amused, a glimmer in her golden eyes, though there was lust there as well as she watched my naked form move about the room.

                “I’m devastated, devastated nearly beyond words. I suppose you’re seeking to defend your peers from my lecherous gaze…or perhaps you would prefer to try and keep it for yourself and Kela?” I teased, and she rolled her eyes expressively with a huff, folding her arms and glancing away, though I delighted in noting that, for a moment, the crimson of her cheeks darkened towards ruby.

                “Hardly, you flatter yourself. No, it seems Mother and Father are convinced that you might, if given the chance, turn bloodthirsty and die in a blaze of glory for the sake of murdering a pack of pampered Imperial brats.” She informed me dryly when she had regained her composure, and I didn’t even try to restrain the scoff that left my throat at that, which seemed to amuse her.

                “Yes, rather than trying to slaughter the person who experimented on my mother, experimented on me in the womb, and nearly experimented me to death not weeks ago, I’m going to kill a bunch of rich kids I don’t even know the names of, in the middle of Kaas City.” I sneered, not even attempting to restrain or contain the contempt I felt at the scenario in question. Flapping a hand is dismissal, I continued. “At any rate, provided none of your acquaintances do anything manifestly stupid, they have nothing to fear from me today or any other day. I don’t think, based on what you have said to me about them, that you will be terribly offended if I were to say I consider them quite irrelevant.”

                “Oh, no, I must agree entirely. There are, at best, one or two of them that could be considered anything more than vapid, self-absorbed dolls.” She agreed, her tone and presence scathing, to say the least, and I felt my lip quirk develop into a full-blown smirk as she scowled at no one in particular. “Always nattering away about whatever musician or holovid star that has caught their attention most recently, dreaming about being swept off their feet by such a person and living the life of a famous starlet. It’s nauseating.”

I didn’t even try to restrain my chortling at that, amused not only by the emotions I could hear and feel but by the memories they evoked from my old life. I had never been particularly impressed by those who chased movie stars or dreamed of living the life of such people without putting in any effort to do something with themselves. In honesty, I hadn’t even been particularly impressed with influencers and those like them, though they (by and large) at the least did something approaching work to provide for themselves.

My outfit completed, I made my way over to the massive, full-length mirror and admired it. It was flattering, and obviously tailored to take full advantage of my build and assets. A black ensemble, unsurprisingly, that was little more than a midriff-bearing, sleeve-less tank-top with a high neck and quite the cleavage window. The pants, likewise, were quite flattering to my physique, made of tight leather that hugged my long legs, but possessed what I could only call ‘inner-thigh windows’, large ovular gaps stretched from just below my crotch to just below my knee. Combined with the way that the leather clung to the prominent, if soft, bulge at the apex of my thighs, I…looked pretty damn enticing.

Which was probably the point.

                “Are you quite sure you don’t want me playing about with your peers? Because if not, I’m afraid that the outfit you’ve picked is not likely to inspire them to keep their distance nor their hands to themselves.” I commented, turning and twisting and stretching as I tested the range of movement that the clothes allowed and enjoying the way they felt on my skin. I felt sexy, sexier even than my usual near-nude outfit. There was something to be said for tantalizing glimpses and hints rather than an uninhibited view.

                “I don’t imagine that they could handle you, Khai, and I have no interest in you getting shot for breeding one of those stupid bitches because they couldn’t keep their satin-soft hands to themselves.” She snapped, sounding more than a little irate at the idea, and I didn’t even try to restrain the satisfied, even smug, look that settled onto my face. Seeing it, she huffed in aggravation and looked away, busying herself with finishing her own preparations. “Wipe that smirk off your face, it is unbecoming. Your strange insights into the Force and the conversational tool you represent makes you far too valuable to lose because of the base lusts of our lessers.”

                “You know, Nicky, you say the kindest and most heart-warming things.” I remarked, smirk not wavering so much as a single iota as I posted my right hand on my hip and settled my weight back on the same leg, cocking the other out slightly. “It’s flattering, really. Don’t worry, I won’t let any ‘vapid, self-absorbed dolls’ or ‘pampered Imperial brats’ steal me away from you. I couldn’t imagine breaking your heart like that.”

                “Oh, shut up and start walking. We have places to be today, and I don’t have the time or the inclination to get side-tracked by your nonsense.” Asmu-Nikal sighed, before pausing and giving me a serious look, no longer interested in playing. “You amuse me, Vestara Khai, and I enjoy your company, along with the boldness and banter that come with it. But if you do something to compromise my position or that of my dynasty while we are in the city, I will kill you without hesitation.”

But not without regret. I mused thoughtfully to myself, even as I voiced my acknowledgement. I felt no bitterness or betrayal over her warning, fully aware of the fact that Nicky not only let me get away with much more than any normal slave could possibly dream of. Even the interest, amusement, and attraction she felt in regards to me would have to have limits, especially after so short a time together. Perhaps, in time, I would be able to banter with her in public, but for now it was an entirely reasonable restriction that I had no interest in arguing against.

Our departure came quickly enough after that, and I couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement as I followed Nicky out the front doors towards the waiting, enclosed skycar that was floating gently at the far end of the entry walkway. It was black, naturally, sleek and modern and doubtlessly armored. As arrogant as Luwian was, he didn’t seem the sort to foolishly ignore the risk of a rival trying (and succeeding) in taking a few potshots at himself or his family. The Sith, after all, never stopped their rivalries or their intrigues, no matter what planet that they happened to be on.

Which is why the fools kept losing their wars against the Jedi, really. Heaven forfend that they stop murdering each other long enough to handle any external, existential threats!

We slid into the back of the car, and I couldn’t help but give a soft sound of satisfaction as my seat shifted and changed beneath me, the warm, dark leather conforming itself to my body. As Nicky settled herself, I took a moment to look around the vehicle’s interior, noting and dismissing the transparisteel divider between our compartment and that of the driver. It was certainly luxurious vehicle, one that spoke of wealth and promised comfort, though it was not nearly as ostentatious or disgustingly decadent as I had imagined. Whether that was because Nicky’s family wasn’t as wealthy as I had thought that they were, or Lord Luwian actually had something approaching restraint when it came to his spending, I didn’t know, nor would I care to bet either way.

                “Your family has a very nice ride, Nicky. Given the fine taste that went into the selection, I can assume that it was your mother, not your father, who was responsible?” I quipped, confident that there was no way the driver could hear us, and flashed her a grin as I felt a spike of {Exasperation} and {Amusement} from her in response, just in time to see her give an eloquent roll of her eyes.

                “Father doesn’t like to spend money on vehicles like this. He says that paying vast sums for a mere home-to-city conveyance such as this is for those lesser than us, like other Sith or the Hutts or Republic Senators.” She explained, and I laughed softly as I discovered there was, in fact, at least one reasonable thing about her father’s personality. Not that I was terribly pleased to find any positive (I hesitated to go so far as to say redeeming) quality about the bastard, but it did somewhat help explain a portion of Nicky’s reasonableness.

The rest, I had gathered from my time living there, came from her Mother.

While a Sith through and through, and disdainful of me due to my nature as a slave, she seemed a surprisingly genuine and forthright person that was capable of thinking about more than scratching the persistent Dark Side itch. Indeed, while Lord Luwian was a genius and a scientific ritualist par excellence (even if he was a sadistic maniac that would have made the likes of Mengele cringe), I would go so far as to say that it was Nikal-Mati, not he, that led House Luwian.

                “So besides your desire to enable my seduction of the innocent and nubile young ladies of Dromuund Kaas, what are our plans for today? A post-Korriban celebratory shopping trip, perhaps? Your favorite restaurant, a romantic walk in the dark, monster-and-madman infested forests? No, wait,” I snapped my fingers with an exaggerated look of sudden understanding. “You want us to dress each other up in cute outfits and compliment them, right?”

                “Are you trying to make me vomit, Vestara?” she asked with a rather put-upon sigh, and I subsided with hands held out in surrender as I settled back to listen to what she had to say. “We will be going to the markets, but certainly not for anything as inane as ‘trying on cute outfits’.”

                “Alas, foiled again.” I quipped, glancing out the window and watching the towering trees whipping by, only barely still definable as more than a simple wall of color at the speed we were moving. “How far to Kaas City?”

                “Only twenty minutes or so, at this speed anyway. If you were to be on a land-speeder it would take quite a bit longer.” She responded promptly, and I nodded absently before gasping audibly as a large break in the trees revealed a massive, sprawling work-project. One that, despite the difference in progression, I easily recognized.

The Unfinished Colossus, one of the quest hubs on Dromuund Kaas. Even now, years before the time of the game, it was an enormous structure. Far larger than it had appeared in the game, I knew immediately, because even though it had only been finished to (so far as I could tell) just above the knees, it was already at least two hundred feet tall. If I had to guess, based on the proportions I remembered from the game compared to how it looked now, the ‘finished’ (I felt my lips quirk) product would probably be at least six hundred feet in height. An incredible feat of engineering…and an absurd one.

                “I can sense your amusement from here, Khai. What is it that so amuses you about Lord Qet’s little construction project?” Nicky asked, actually sounding genuinely curious, and I looked back at her before gesturing out the window.

                “Oh, a few things, really. Not the least of which is that Darth Vowrawn is a gamesman, not a preening bird of paradise. He enjoys battle, enjoys conquest and conflict and most of all he enjoys testing his mind against worthy opponents. I can hardly see him caring for wasting money and resources building a gigantic statue of himself for one rival or another to try and tear down.” I responded, thinking of the aged, brilliant Pureblood I remembered from the games. Helping him take Baras out had been some of the most fun I had had during my Sith Warrior playthroughs, and his legitimate care and affection towards his subordinates (and distaste for anti-human policies) had certainly improved my opinion of him. “For a man like Vowrawn, Qet would be better served with displays of martial prowess or by bringing unaligned worlds into the Empire, not building statues in the middle of the jungle.”

                “Yet another piece of knowledge, inexplicably possessed and inexplicably accurate. The mystery that you represent deepens one again, Vestara Khai.” She drawled, sounding mildly vexed as I simply smiled at her in response, letting out a sharp huff at the end. “Well, you are quite correct that it is not the sort of think that Darth Vowrawn would be particularly enamored with, but he does seem to think highly of Lord Qet.”

                “Who could have thought that, even for the Sith, I could use the phrase ‘it’s the thought that counts’.” I mused with genuine amusement, and Nicky surprised the both of us by giving a sharp bark of laughter, shaking her head at me with a gleam in her golden eyes.

                “Not a saying I’m familiar with,” she responded, which damn near had my eyes rolling out of my head as I very loudly thought ‘no shit’ in her direction, getting an equally dramatic eyeroll in return. “but one I will agree fits the circumstances.”

There was a moment of silence, and a far from comfortable one. I had expected it when I had spoken, honestly, having revealed yet another piece of knowledge that I probably shouldn’t know with an unnatural familiarity. I knew I was straining her patience, pushing my luck steadily towards the point that aggravation might outweigh curiosity, but I couldn’t help it. I enjoyed teasing and bantering with Nicky far too much to bring it to an end, and the fear that discovering my secrets would end her interest in me (and the protection that interest provided) was an immense pressure in the back of my mind. Did I dare to throw her something of a bone? A hint of the truth, or at least a truth that she might be willing to accept? Would that make things better, or worse?

I was saved from having to decide one way or the other by our transport slowing and descending quickly, if smoothly, and I turned to look out Nicky’s side with interest. We couldn’t be there already, could we? It certainly hadn’t been twenty minutes yet, had it?

                “We’ve entered Kaas City airspace.” The pureblood explained coolly, likely seeing and sensing my confusion and curiosity, and I grimaced slightly at the frost to her tone. Oh, she wasn’t happy with me at all.  “There is an altitude and speed limit for the city, as you might imagine, starting about two miles from the outskirts.”

                “Probably for the best. Above and beyond the obvious risk of deliberate attacks, I can imagine that a high-speed air-car collision over the city would have…” I couldn’t help but trail off and shudder as I imagined it. Normal car accidents back home could be dangerous enough, happening at ground level and only a hundred miles an hour or so. I could only imagine the kind of damage that could result from even the smallest of air-cars colliding at several hundred miles per hour and several hundred or thousand feet in the air, sending their flaming, speeding, shattered wreckage smashing into and through the streets and buildings below them. The carnage in a situation like that could be…difficult to fathom.

                “Yes. It still happens, on occasion. Even with the auto-pilots and droid chauffeurs available, people will still use their spice of choice or get drunk and get behind the console.” She agreed, nose wrinkling in distaste. “A few years ago, not long after the Treaty was signed, a Lord was driving a bit too dangerously and hit a cargo hauler full of arms leaving The Citadel for one of the jungle outposts. Nearly a thousand people died. It would have been worse if the failsafes on the arms shipment had failed.”

I shuddered again, far more heavily than the first time, as I imagined the destruction that had no doubt taken place, never mind the destruction that could have taken place all to easily. That was the downside, I supposed, of having an entire galaxy that had essentially forgone ground-bound transportation for 99% of life. Back home, planes going down were a risk, but one that could be contained and controlled by dint of how (relatively) rare they were compared to ground vehicles. Here, where every family had at least one air-car, most of which were not dissimilar in size to a Cessna, the risk was all the greater.

                “You can’t put small shield units over or around particularly vulnerable points, like places heavy with pedestrian traffic or apartment complexes?” I asked, thinking about the heavy infantry turrets in the game, on Balmorra and other places, that had their own miniature shield generators.

                “Most complexes or large gathering areas do have their own shield generators, in case of conflict between Sith, slave revolts, or Republic attacks, but they take time to bring online. Its only a handful of minutes, but still far too long to activate if an air-car collision took place. The only place in the city that is constantly shielded is The Citadel itself.” Nicky explained, and I nodded thoughtfully. That made sense, I supposed, both in the general nature of the Sith and simple logistics. Above and beyond looking down on ‘the rabble’ and not, as a general rule, valuing their lives all that much, large amounts of constantly active energy shields would pose their own problems. Shields, by their very natures, tended to block objects moving at a certain speed or containing a certain energy level. Obviously, that would make flying aircars or speeders around problematic.

                “I am surprised that a rule was not imposed requiring droid pilots or autopilots within the city, if such things have happened.” I commented, and she made a soft noise of agreement.

                “It was suggested, but it was deemed to be too risky, putting the lives of the Empire’s most prominent citizens in the hands of something that slicers could easily compromise. Who knows what dastardly criminal could gain access such a droid or program and manipulate the craft into crashing?” the sardonic tone she said it with made it clear that she, as I, knew full well it was less a question of criminal activity and more one of Sith rivalry. After all, no small amount of Sith in the Empire would care little for a few hundred Imperial or slave deaths if it meant disposing of a rival so easily as a car crash.

There was a soft crackle as the compartment’s intercom came to life, the pilot’s voice informing us that we were now approaching our designated landing zone, and would be touching down within the next minute or two. Our conversation put to an end, the two of us set about preparing for disembarking, though admittedly that mostly consisted of me watching Asmu-Nikal checking her datapad, credit chit, commlink, and the like. Not very different from checking my phone, wallet, and keys before getting out of the car back home, I supposed, and for a brief moment I felt terribly nostalgic.

The aircar settled onto the landing pad with a soft thud and the door hissed open. At Asmu-Nikal’s gesture, I exited first, blinking slightly in the brighter (by Dromuund Kaas’ stormy standards) light of the outdoors.

Even as she followed, stepping out behind me, I was staring wide-eyed around me. I knew I must look the fool, especially after yet another moment of being the enigmatic holder of knowledge that should be beyond my grasp, but I couldn’t help it.

Kaas City was enormous, far beyond anything I could have imagined, even with the self-acknowledgement that it’s size would have, of course, been highly limited by the very nature of the video game being a game. It wasn’t Coruscant, of course, but the city likely dwarfed New York, and most assuredly dwarfed Washington D.C.

The Citadel loomed over the entire metropolis, easily the biggest structure I had ever seen by many orders of magnitude, a steady stream of air-borne vehicles entering, exiting, and circling the complex under the watchful eyes of patrolling interceptors, anti-air turrets, and God only knew what else. If I had to guess, we were at the real-world equivalent of the Taxi Service point near The Nexus Cantina, which meant we were relatively close to where the markets had been in the game. Of course, whether they were actually there was very much in question, and relatively close could mean they were within a mile or two.

                “Come along, Khai, we don’t have all day to muck about while you stare about uselessly. And by the Force, wipe that brainless expression off of your face.” Nicky sighed, sounding amused, and perhaps even a little pleased, by the shock and awe I was so blatantly expressing. “How someone can be so knowledgeable about some things, and yet be reduced to a silent, gaping statue by a city is beyond me.”

I shut my mouth with an audible click and gave her a very old-fashioned look indeed, not that it seemed to have any effect on her whatsoever. She was baiting me, getting some of her own back, and I had to resist the urge to return with my own salvo of snark. She had warned me to be on my very best behavior, and while I was relatively confident that I was safe to respond at this moment, I didn’t want to push my luck or her patience any more than I already had so far today.

We set off through the streets, weaving our way in and around the crowds of sentients that were flowing in every which way. I was actually somewhat impressed by how organized it all was, with clearly demarcated sections, almost like the lanes of streets back home, leading in certain directions and to certain places. Either the Empire was more logistically and organizationally competent than they had always seemed to be portrayed, or this was simply yet another way for them to exert control over their citizens, even if in a small and petty way.

Perhaps especially in a small and petty way, actually, now that I thought about it.

Whatever the reason was, I was glad for it all the same. I was all for mysteries and excitement, but getting lost in the middle of the Sith Empire’s capital city wasn’t exactly high on my to-do list, especially not as a very pretty (with all due humility) mostly-female slave. Even as a trained Sith, I likely wouldn’t find being alone in one of this place’s dark alleyways an enjoyable experience.

As we walked, I took in as many of the sights as possible, noting similarities (few and far between, quite literally, given the vastly increased scale of the city) and differences and asking my mistress the occasional question. I was pleased to note that, while hardly a utopian place of gardens and beauty, it was not nearly as starkly utilitarian as it had appeared in the game. Trees lined many of the streets, and the occasional small park was set off to the side. To my immense surprise, we even passed a small handful of children’s parks, something I couldn’t help but remark on.

                “Of course we have them! How else would children learn how to build alliances and establish themselves over and amongst their peers if we kept them home all day?” the genuine confusion in Asmu-Nikal’s response was, somehow, really quite endearing, and I couldn’t help but smile slightly even as I shook my head in exasperation. Of course something as benign as a children’s play park was intended not for the children to have fun and just be kids, but as another form of training for their future as movers and shakers (or servants and followers) within the Empire’s ranks. I should have expected as much, honestly.

When we finally entered the city’s main mercantile district, I was once more blown away, this time by the sheer number of options and products on display. Speeders, arms, armor, furniture, droids, clothing, people. Kaas City Market was probably one of the largest displays of wealth and potential expenditure I had ever seen in my life, and I had been on Google.

Passing the slave markets was…somewhat uncomfortable, if I was going to be honest. Even as desensitized to the world of the Sith Empire that I had gradually become over time, a desensitization stemming from my own slavery, I still didn’t like to see it. The beautiful girls and handsome boys sold of as tools of pleasure, the men destined for hard labor, the women separated from their children and husbands…it was a terrible thing to see.

To her credit, Asmu-Nikal seemed eager to put as much distance between me and that sight as possible, likely sensing my distress and anger. She ushered me along, resorting to pushing her way through the crowd at times as she pulled me along by a firm grip on my hand. The rest of the crowd became little more than a riot of colors and vague features as we moved, passed by swiftly as we moved. I cursed softly as we had to dodge around one person in particular as they made there way towards the auction block, eyes scrutinizing the girls on offer. I had only the slightest glimpse of blond hair and red robes before we were passed them, twisting my body to dart away from the almost-collision, even as I was pulled further on.

                “Sorry!” I called over my shoulder as the crowd swallowed us once more, leaving whomever it was behind, a sensation of shock (doubtless due to nearly being plowed underfoot) the only response I could discern. I frowned briefly, wondering why even that brief glimpse gave me a feeling of déjà vu, of recognition, before putting it out of my mind.

Whatever, whoever, it was, it likely would never matter. I would probably never see who it was again, and even if I did, I doubt I would be recognized or remembered.

No one would bother to remember a slave.

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Chapter Text

Hello everyone, welcome back to Crown of Slaves! We’re starting to wrap up the introduction arc, and soon enough will be heading off to Korriban!

Finally, please make sure to check out the TVTropes page and update it!

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Six

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I had to admit that, once we were away from the slave market, I started to have fun. Shopping had, admittedly, never been something I loved doing. I preferred to go to stores with specific items, specific sections at the very worst, in mind. And, admittedly, I didn’t much care for shopping now, especially given my status as a slave unable to buy things as freely as I could have done in my old life, but spending time away from the estate with Nicky was enjoyable. Though she was well dressed, she had no emblems or other signs to indicate her rank or heritage, leaving her just one more young pureblood amongst thousands, accompanied by one slave amongst millions. She was more…playful than she was at the Estate, even in the privacy of her suite. While she still had to keep to a certain standard, I had a feeling I was truly seeing her for the first time, seeing what she could be without the binding chains and pressures of position and protocols. It was…nice. There was no other word for it.

What was also nice (though torturous) was helping her pick new lingerie and ‘social’ clothing. Much as one might expect from an entire martial culture based around a religious code that included the line ‘there is only passion’, non-military Imperial and Sith clothing (at least for those sufficiently able to afford it) is far different from the game. Starting at enticing and ending a half-step shy out outright nudity, it would be a dream come true for any hot-blooded appreciator of the feminine form. If I had to guess (and an educated guess at that), it wasn’t only to embrace the Sith ideals of hedonism and self-enjoyment, but also as an expression of power. Knowing that you can dress however you like, strut around a city practically naked, but have such power, influence, and prestige that no one would even dream of commenting, never mind actually touching you.

I could certainly see the appeal of something like that. In fact, I did see the appeal in that. It wasn’t all that different from how much I enjoyed my ‘uniform’ back at the Estate, except it would be spiced with the knowledge that I was the one with the power, I was the one in control.

I immediately resolved to do some shopping her as soon as I had the funds. I was, by God, going to stroll around my Fury-class either entirely in the nude or in the sexiest clothing possible. That was still a ways off, however, and focusing on my gorgeous owner was the main priority right now. Fortunately, it wasn’t much of a chore. All I had to do was give my honest opinion of various outfits or singular articles of clothing, some once they were on her body and some as she held them up for inspection.

                “No, no, definitely not!” I said, the instant she pulled a long, tight, midriff-bearing, leg-slitted gold-trimmed scarlet dress down from it’s display case, waving both of my hands in a definitively negating gesture. “It would look terrible with your complexion, the two shades of red would clash horribly!”

                “I know that, Khai, I am not entirely without color coordination, you know.” She retorts dryly, and I felt myself flush in embarrassment, even as I frowned lightly in confusion. While she might be intending to ask me about how I thought the dress would look on a family member or something of the sort, the same problem that applied to her would apply to them as well. Though there was some variance in richness of skin tone amongst House Luwian, it wasn’t sufficient to prevent that issue. “I am considering it for a gift, and want your opinion on it’s cut and make in general, not for myself specifically.”

That made quite a bit more sense, and you nod understandingly as you give the dress a deeper appraisal. That it was made from quality material went without saying, but there was certainly more to the quality and appreciability of a garment than mere materials. You took a moment to give a brief prayer of thanks that the movers and shakers of the Empire had neither the taste nor the desire for ‘avant-garde’ fashion like the rich people back home did, and shuddered briefly at the memory of absurd nonsense like side-ways or upside-down dresses.

                “It certainly looks fantastic to me. It could be garish, given the colors involved, but the red is deep enough and the trim is thin enough, and subtle enough, that it draws the eye and highlights the rest of the outfit and the lines of the person wearing it rather than simply being gaudy. It wouldn’t work on just anyone, though. You’d need a certain complexion and build to properly pull it off.” I responded finally after a long inspection, and she nodded with a pleased look on her face, a minute twitch of her hand summoning a hovering staff member to take it from her towards the counter. A counter which was laden with other selections intended for purchase. I had to wonder who she intended to gift it to, because there was no way it was for Kela. I liked my fellow slave a great deal, but she had neither the build nor the complexion required for a dress such as that. Which meant it was for a third party, and despite the knowledge that it was irrational and hardly my place, I felt a surge of jealousy in my heart, a light scowl marring my face. Despite our respective positions, it seemed I could feel quite possessive over Nicky.

Interesting.

I watched as she, apparently satisfied with her shopping for the day (or at least this store, Force only knew how much longer she would keep this up, and how many stores she would drag me through in the process), started to follow the woman. Still feeling somewhat vexed with the situation, and rather vexed indeed with whomsoever the dress was intended for, I rose and followed as well. We, or Asmu-Nikal at least, were bowed out of the shop with a promise that her purchases would be delivered to her home within the hour.

                “Where next?” I asked, and she frowned thoughtfully for a long moment before looking over at me, giving me a long, slow, predatory once over. A grin, bordering on the maniacal crept across her face, and she beckoned me to follow as she changed course, heading towards one of the stores that she had previously been ignoring. In fact, I believe it was a store that she had quite literally turned her nose up earlier in our little expedition, and I felt a feeling of vague but profound dread. A feeling that only grew when Nicky decided to open the doors with a pulse of the Force rather than waiting for the motion sensors to kick in.

                “Oh, Lana~!” she sang mockingly as she sailed through them, practically strutting now, and my breath caught at the name. Star Wars had never been prone to having common names, names that seemed to be shared between multiple characters, even in the extended universe.

Of course, I knew that, logically, there had to be names that qualified as ‘common’ in a galaxy where cities could have the population of Earth at the time I died, and that the movies and games and books had focused far more on special individuals with special names than the proverbial ‘salt of the earth’ sorts. I knew that Lana could easily be the equivalent of Mary or Jane or Amanda for the Empire, but I still hoped…

                “Asmu-Nikal. As dramatic as ever, I see.” A terribly familiar voice drawled as the blonde form of a much younger Lana Beniko appeared from deeper within the premises, eyeing Nicky with scant favor. “I had heard you managed to return alive from Korriban, so I suppose congratulations are in order for that. It’s a pity that the sacred homeworld couldn’t teach you how to be subtle or quiet.”

                “Oh, sweet Lana, don’t tell me you’re jealous? After all, I’ve come and gone from Korriban and you, it seems, struggle still to convince those parents of yours to let you go at all. Still keeping you safely tucked away, are they?” Nicky simpered, actually simpered in response, and I realized that I was witnessing a battle, on of many, from a long-lasting war of social rivalry. Lana’s cheek twitched slightly as she tightened her jaw, smiling brightly back at Nicky with eyes that burned with aggravation. She looked over at me, mouth opening (for another dig at Nicky with me as the shovel, no doubt), before freezing as our eyes met. In that moment, I felt a connection snap into place between us. Thin, barely noticeable, flimsy compared to the one I had with Nicky, and I was sure Lana lacked the training or experience to recognize it for what it was, but it was there all the same.

                “Well now, who is this?” Lana asked, sweeping past Nicky to examine me more closely, giving me several very frank once-overs, eyes lingering on my chest and my bulge before narrowing as they focused on crimson carvings that represented Luwian’s depravities. She stepped closer still, lightly tracing a finger over them, and I couldn’t help the slight shudder that swept through me at the mild shock I seemed to feel rush through me at the contact. “What is your name?”

                “My name is…” I started to respond, blushing faintly, only to be cut off as Nicky swept in with a fierce scowl, pulling me away from her apparent rival.

                “Her name is nothing to do with you, Beniko, and I shall thank you to keep your hands off of my slave.” She fairly snapped, and I could feel {Possessiveness} and mild {Confusion} radiating down the bond the two of us shared.

                “Oh, calm down, Asmu-Nikal, I was simply trying to be polite. Perhaps if you weren’t such a cunt to everyone all the time, you might be able to recognize it when you see it. But then, I’m not surprised that you’d come into my property, act like the same self-absorbed bitch you’ve always been, and then get even more unpleasant than usual because you’re not the center of attention for longer than a heartbeat.” Lana bit back, folding her arms over her chest and glowering past me at the pureblood, and I couldn’t help but swallow reflexively as the Force began to swirl around the two of them, the air growing tense and sharp.

                “Polite? You were practically devouring her with your eyes, and stroking her like a pet besides!” Nicky hissed, totally ignoring the personal attacks as she focused on what was, apparently, a far more important issue: Lana’s interactions with me. “If I didn’t know better, I would say that you wanted my slave for yourself!”

                “And shouldn’t I, hmm? Every woman in the Kaas system knows of your dear, elder brother’s proclivities, every woman knows that the benefits of potentially catching the eye of House Luwian’s heir is not worth the risks, so why wouldn’t I want to take such a beautiful woman away from such a man?” Lana sneered, stepping closer and gesturing to the marks littering my skin. “Look at her! Look at what she has suffered at the hands of your house! To flog a disobedient slave is one thing, but even one as untrained in the Force can sense the atrocities that were inflicted on her presence! Better for her to serve me, at least she will live a life of service rather than finding herself torturously raped to death!”

{Outrage} and {Indignation} poured out of Nicky as she seemed to swell, physically and metaphysically both, at both the confirmation and the commentary. Beneath it though, I did sense a small but powerful throb of {Fear}. Fear of what, I wondered as I watched the ongoing disaster, smart enough to keep well out of it for the time being.

                 “Legacies of my father’s experiments, from which I recovered her,” Nicky retorted, which was something of an over-statement, given the experiments had already stopped long before she got home from Korriban, but I wasn’t going to point that out right now. “And she hardly needs you to protect her from my brother when she has me. Vestara is mine, my personal companion. No-one else is permitted to touch her, never mind take her or hurt her.”

Lana actually looked somewhat reassured by that, perhaps even mildly grateful, but my dear owner either didn’t notice it or ignored it as she continued ruthlessly.

                “Besides, someone like you could never handle a specimen such as this.”

‘This’ was punctuated by her stepping close, hand ghosting it’s way down my body to cup and squeeze my shaft through the cloth shielding it from view, cloth that rapidly began getting much tighter than it already had been as I began to respond to her touch. She fondled me, smirking at Lana, who was blushing faintly despite a ferocious scowl as her eyes (a brilliant blue, I noted, and found myself lamenting the day they would become the orange-yellow of the Sith) locked onto my growing bulge. Still, I had now been more directly involved in this argument, and as aware as I was of my current position in life, there was only so much of this nonsense that I was willing to tolerate.

                “That is enough out of both of you!” I barked, reaching down to pull Nicky’s hand off of me as I stepped away from both of them and folded my arms, adopting a stern expression. Both seemed surprised at my behavior, and Nicky actually seemed a little hurt, but I didn’t allow that to dissuade me. “The two of you are Sith or future Sith, the future heads of your own Houses. You are meant for greater things than a petty childhood rivalry! You are meant to help guide the Empire into and through the future, a brighter future, and you would carry out your destinies with less suffering and greater success if you would work together, or at least not spend all your focusing on sabotaging one another instead of serving our people!”

                “Khai…” Nicky said warningly, though what exactly the warning was for, I wasn’t sure, and frankly I couldn’t care less at the moment. A multitude of exasperations had piled up on top of one another, not the least of which was the fear that I would lose one of them to this rivalry, something I wasn’t willing to contemplate.

                “I will not be silent this time! You could be so much more than what you believe possible!” I rolled right over her still-born objection, a part of me fully aware of the fact that I should probably shut my goddamn mouth before I pushed my luck well past the breaking point, but I didn’t care anymore. I had reached my proverbial boiling point with this entire existence and everything that had happened since I began it. “Your brother is a brutish oaf and a fool, a blunt instrument with none of your father’s intelligence or your mother’s grace! I give it a couple of years, at the very most, before he’s a corpse! Gutted by a rival he pissed off, slaughtered by the first woman with actual power he tries to treat like one of his toys, or one of countless casualties on a battlefield, because he let his ego get the best of him and tried to take on an opponent well beyond his reach! Your little brother is barely more than a child, easy for you to displace as heir, and even if he isn’t a cruel lunatic like Tudalhiya, he inherited little of your parents’ brilliance either!”

The two girls stared at me, expressions of shock having transitioned to dumbfoundedness, and I was prepared to continue my rant, with the focus shifting to Lana, when the Force quaked around us. Dark Side energy, like an enormous pressure wave, swept across the city with an almost physical presence. We all felt it, to varying degrees, and I wasn’t surprised to see that Asmu-Nikal was impacted the most. She was, after all, the only one of us with formal training, and the enhanced sensitivity that came with it.

                “That…that did not come from the Citadel.” Lana pointed out, eyes a bit wild and breathing a bit heavy, and I shook my head.

                “No, from the west. There is only one thing in that direction that could cause such an event within the Force, only one place on Dromuund Kaas containing such quantities and depth of Dark Side energy.” I agreed, having weathered the event a little better, but still feeling on the breathless side of things. Outside, sirens began to wail, and I could see and hear and feel the panic as the city tried to react to whatever had happened.

                “The Dark Temples. Something has happened with the Dark Temple.” Asmu-Nikal finished the thought, a note of distinct dread in her tone, and I couldn’t blame her. Especially since I knew exactly what disturbing the Dark Temple could lead to.

Time was running out.

Canon was coming.

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Lord Aloysious Kallig, Grand Marshall of the Armies of the Most Holy Empire of the Sith, Right Hand to Tulak Hord, awoke with a start. Something had happened, something in the realms physical and spiritual alike, and he stretched out into the whorls of The Force with the instinctual ease that came from decades of training and carefully-honed innate talent. The result incensed him, and he rose from his bed with a thunderous expression of fury on his face.

Departing his chambers, he stalked through the halls, wrath wafting off of him as he hunted down the pack of fools that had dared to invade his home, his sanctum. He could feel their greed, their wretched, blind hunger for wealth and power. A hunger that far outstripped their means to earn it or take it, for they were weak. Weaker than his daughters had been when they had been learning to walk, and yet they thought themselves capable to robbing him? Of taking that which belonged to him, that which he had won through his own might of body and mind?

He found them, lingering in the dimly lit antechamber, and couldn’t help his baffled amusement as he beheld them. They were little more than a gang of pampered brats, the same sort of worthless churls that he saw die by the dozens on the battlefield, laid low at the hands of their entirely-unjustified egos, following a pureblood oaf whose intelligence could probably be measured in the single digits and whose only value to the Empire was likely his bloodline.

The group had barely a moment to notice him before he struck out in the Force, driving each and every one of them to their knees. The wisest ones submitted immediately, proclaiming their loyalty to him with a fervor that seemed almost unnatural, as if their minds had been entirely dominated, but cowardice (even if not commonly to this degree) was hardly an unusual reaction to those he confronted.

Their ‘leader’, though, tried to resist. The Force gathered around the boy, and despite the relatively small and pitiful presence he had to muster, Aloysious paused. Not because of the boy’s strength, of course, nor any sudden onrush of pity or generosity on his own part, but because of a small flavour to his presence.

It was a little known fact outside of the more powerful and discerning of Sith and Jedi, but an individual’s Presence within the Force could take on minor tints of those they interacted with. He commonly, when explaining it to the less aware and educated, compared it to scents for species and races with enhanced smelling. Everyone had their own natural, personal scent, but close or repeated contact with other individuals could cause the scents of those other individuals to ‘rub off’ on them and mingle with their own.

This boy had been around one of his descendants. Not one of his daughters, perhaps, but a daughter of his daughters. That could not be tolerated, the very idea of such a weak fool being in close proximity to a member of The House of Kallig was utterly unacceptable. He would discover which of them needed to be chastised for allowing this brainless boy to get close enough to gain a tint of their presence within their own.

A simple command has the brat’s former comrades leaping upon him, holding him immobile so that Aloysious could concentrate on the far more important, and worthy of his efforts, task of tearing the pureblood’s mind apart for the answers he sought. A task that was easy from the outset, because the mental defenses in his way might as well have not existed for all their effectiveness, and the cause for that was not simply the massive disparity in power and experience between them. No, it was clear that whoever had raised and trained this boy had utterly neglected to teach him how one properly warded one’s mind from influence or intrusion. It was disgraceful, and he could clearly see he would have to have a stern word with a few people about relaxing standards based on bloodline or race again. The Empire was a meritocracy, not one of those wretched star-nations where birth, rather than ability, dictated everything.

The boy’s childhood was thoroughly irrelevant and quickly discarded, as was his training on Korriban. Though briefly tempted to see just who had allowed standards to degrade, or at least refused to enforce them properly, he quite frankly cared only for the involvement of his own kin. He had other means to solve any problems with the Academy than this.

The boy began coughing blood, his presence in the Force starting to slip away as his ‘self’ fell apart under Kallig’s efforts, which intensified as his time to work shortened. The answer finally revealed itself from a time, not months ago, with the image of one of his descendants (he did no recognize her, specifically, but her features and the memory of her presence made it clear she was of his blood) dressed boldly and accompanied by the boy’s sister and a slave-girl.

Leaving the now-mindless corpse to finish expiring, he turned and headed back into the deeper portions of his palace, feeling quite relieved. He hadn’t thought any of his family would be so brainless as to involve themselves with trash like that, even for a fling, but the confirmation was satisfying. And, despite his age, he had to admit that his kinswoman had excellent taste. The boy’s sister was quite attractive, and seemed talented enough in the Force. Freshly returned from Korriban, in fact, and Aloysious had the feeling that she hadn’t made use of her family name to neglect her training.

Of course, that relief didn’t mean that he would be satisfied with the information that he had now. Once he tidied up the damage that his newest group of servants had caused in their ill-advised attempt to take what was no theirs, he would set about determining which blood of his blood had featured in the boy’s memories, and ensure that she wasn’t making a fool of herself. Even if sister was more competent, the family may not be worthy of so intimate a connection with his own.

Looking around his palace, he frowned again. Really, the amount of damage that had been caused even in that short incursion was just unacceptable. The ante-chamber was half in ruins, it looked like it could be some manner of archaeology project at this point! Well, the interlopers would find themselves putting to right that which they had so grievously damaged, and they would be grateful for it. Really, sparing them but putting them to work was an expression of profound generosity on his part.

As he started giving commands to his servants, young and old, he idly wondered what his descendant and her girls were up to at the moment. Nothing that would cause him any trouble, he hoped. He was getting too old to be chasing grand-children about and lecturing them about proper decorum!

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Well, things are starting to kick off! This is a slightly compressed version of things, because otherwise we wouldn’t have gotten to Korriban until, like, chapter fifteen. And I don’t think any of us want that. At any rate, please make sure to comment, review, whatever it is depending on the site you are reading this one!

Chapter Text

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Seven

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The three of us were still kneeling on the ground staring at one another, breathing hard as we continued struggling to recover from the psychic impact of the Dark Temple being disturbed, when another pulse of Force energy swept across us. It was fainter, and somehow familiar. A whisper compared to the previous shout, no weaker or somehow less potent, just…quiet, as strange as that sounded. It swirled around me like a breeze, and I felt something within me respond to it. A resonance in the Force, and Asmu-Nikal’s gaze sharpened with something akin to recognition or understanding, Lana looking between us in confusion as she sensed…something, something that she lacked the training to really grasp, even as she shuddered slightly in what seemed to be a mild discomfort.

                “I can’t believe that anyone was mad enough to disturb the Temple! The Dark Council will tear them apart for it!” The merchant’s daughter murmured, sounding as confused as she was distressed, and I subconsciously reached out to her through our fledgling bond, trying to soothe her, even as Nicky’s own senses reached out to mesh with mine.

                “It’s as much the way of the Sith to boldly, arrogantly, tread where they ought not as it is to abandon and betray those around them when it is convenient to do so.”  I remarked tiredly, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do now. I was nowhere near ready for Korriban, not if I wanted to change things, and while I didn’t know when the Dark Temple had been opened compared to your character’s arrival on Dromuund Kaas, it couldn’t have been too long. Else the Dark Council would have taken note and umbrage with dozens of Sith and thousands of soldiers and laborers going utterly insane and causing trouble. Surely even Kallig wouldn’t be able to corrupt or stand against the Dark Council if they decided to get involved?

Then again, you hadn’t exactly gotten the impression that anyone was capable of dealing with Force Ghosts before the Sith Inquisitor rolled around. Hell, Thanaton had used the spirit of Darth Andros to kill people he found troublesome or problematic, and the Jedi had been entirely incapable of dealing with Kalatosh Zavros, even with his presence being in the very heart of an Enclave with multiple Masters for several years.

Damn, that reminded me. I had to figure out how the hell I was going avoid having to slaughter my way through the entire goddamned enclave just to deal with Kalatosh. That was going to be a pain in my well-rounded rear end, that was for sure.

I felt a spike of ire from both women, though Lana’s was threaded through with bafflement and Nicky’s with exasperated affection, at my less-than-flattering description of a ruling cast that both of them either belonged to or were destined to belong to, but neither had a chance to speak before I felt a tremor in the Force. A shiver of warning, a thread of dread, and I shot to my feet just in time for the doors to hiss open, the woman I had nearly run over not minutes ago striding through the parted panels, her eyes locked unerringly onto me. I knew I had recognized her, and I cursed myself for failing to put a name to a face, no matter how distracted I had been.

                “Well now, I trust all of you are alright after that surprising event we all just experienced?” she asked smoothly, briefly glancing at the other two girls as they scrambled to their feet and bowed, both recognizing a Lord when they saw one, and it was Nicky who responded aloud for them both.

                “Yes, Lord Zash, we’re fine. What happened?”

                “We don’t know yet, but there are response teams heading to the Temple as we speak. Whether they will be able to reach it, however, is a matter of great debate. Whatever has happened there, it has caused the area to be wreathed in lightning storms of significant power and unpredictability.” The blonde would-be body-stealer shook her head, sounding as curious as she did unhappy. Well, that made sense. Zash hungered for knowledge, especially ancient knowledge related to longevity, so it made sense that the Dark Temple being open but utterly inaccessible would be frustrating for her.

 Oh, God, had she nudged the person who opened the Temple into doing so? If she had had visions of me quelling Kallig’s spirit and retrieving the artifact that she knew she needed for the possession ritual, I could see Zash convincing some idiot to open up the Dark Temple for her. It likely wouldn’t even be a difficult proposition, not with how Sith typically thought and behaved, never mind the fact that the one ‘asking’ was a Lord. A very beautiful, flirtatious Lord at that.

I was drawn from her thoughts by the sensation of goosebumps as Zash turned her attention back to me, her inspection both physical and metaphysical alike perfectly palpable as she looked me up and down with distinct and blatant approval, and I was gratified indeed when Asmu-Nikal gestured sharply for me to come to her side, [Suspicion] and [Possessiveness] radiating off of her as she examined the Lord, as well as no small amount of [Exasperated Curiosity]. Probably related to the fact that people kept outright ignoring her to focus on me instead.

I’d have been somewhat shamed to admit it, but I practically hid behind my owner once I reached her, putting as much of myself behind her slender form as humanely possible to force Zash to bypass her visually and verbally both if she wanted to keep her focus on me. Hopefully, it would also make me seem sufficiently insignificant and slave-like to…oh, who the hell was I kidding, she wasn’t going to lose interest in me anytime soon, no matter how meek I acted or how much I tried to emulate a wallflower. Hopefully Nicky wouldn’t do something dumb like sell me off to this bitch.

                “You, you’re Luwian’s daughter, yes?” she asked, in the tone of someone who knew the answer but was observing the requisite social niceties by pretending otherwise. I could tell that Nicky recognized it for what it was, even as she responded in the affirmative. Zash gave a thoughtful nod, not even glancing at Lana, instead turning her attention back towards me. “An interesting slave that you have here, Apprentice. Very unique. I can sense her unusual nature and prominence in the Force. How much would it cost me to procure her for myself?”

Wow, blunt. Not even trying to disguise her interest in owning me. No niceties, no prevarication, no frilled words. Not even a private discussion, though admittedly that would likely not occur to most Sith, to pay Nicky not-so-hard-earned credits so that she could own me instead. Well, fortunately, it seemed that Nicky wasn’t too pleased about it, given the way that she was mentally and emotionally balking at the idea.

                “Why is it that everyone is trying to take my slave from me? What, exactly, is so attractive about one discarded experiment of my father’s that every single woman I come across is trying to pluck her from my grasp?” the pureblood grated out, maintaining civility only through ingrained acknowledgement of social rank and self-control born of Korriban’s trials, fists clenched and glowering at Lana (the only offending person present it wasn’t suicidal to glare at) as she did so. “She is not for sale, nor will she ever be for sale. Vestara Khai is mine and mine alone. I thank you for your concern for our well-being, but I will be taking my slave and my purchases home immediately. Doubtless my father is concerned for my welfare and anxious for my presence.”

She sketched a polite bow, a nudge of her elbow having me do the same, before she gripped my own elbow and tugged me from the store with deliberate haste, the two of us quickly reaching a pace that could only be defined as an undignified power-walk. She didn’t slow down until we were nearly two blocks away, well on our way back to where the air-car was waiting, and even then she refused to stop until we were back at the airpad. Dropping her packages with a surprising lack of care in front of the chauffer, she practically shoved me into the interior of the car.

The ride back to the Luwian estate was quick, probably quicker than it should have been, but somehow I doubted the Kaasian air patrol cared particularly much for one Sith Lord’s air-car breaking the speed limit given what was going on with the Dark Temple. All the way there, Nicky’s roiling emotions grew more and more intense, her control more and more tenuous, and I wondered what would happen when it finally ran out. It was funny, really, that Lana flirting with me and Zash trying to buy me was what finally seemed to have exhausted her patience with me.

When we landed, it was to the news that her brother and most of his ‘friends’ were missing, presumed dead, after taking speeders towards the Dark Temple. While Lord and Lady Luwian both believed that their erstwhile heir had died as a result of the Temple opening, I was more than willing to bet a year of my non-existent pay that the stupid bastard had been the cause of the opening. And, judging from how she felt in the Force, so did Nicky.

The moment it was appropriate to do so, she swept Kela and I away through the halls into her wing of the house, her childhood companion sent scurrying ahead with a sharp gesture to open the door to the library, and for the second time today I found myself bodily thrown into a space as she roughly tossed me through the portal.

I couldn’t contain my squawk of surprise as I sprawled across the floor, and I felt her grip me with the Force and flip me over. I had an instant to try and open my mouth to demand an explanation before she was on top of me, straddling my hips with a hand on my throat, gripping it as she snarled down at me, a riot of emotions flowing through our bond.

                “Who are you, Vestara Khai? Why does my childhood rival try to take you from me within moments of us meeting? Why does a Sith Lord such as Zash follow us all the way from the slave markets in an attempt to purchase you? Why do you….you feel what you feel when you look at them? The affection, the desire, the hate, the fear?” she hissed, using her grip to lift me off the floor before slamming me down again, her frustration boiling over and her patience long gone. “No more secrets, I will wait no longer!”

                “Nicky, it’s not safe…” I started, only to yelp as her grip tightened, sparks flickering along her arm as I felt the mild sting.

                “I don’t care anymore what excuses you have to offer, Vestara Khai!” she warned me, the very softness of her tone more threatening that any shout could possibly be. “I have been patient, I have been kind, I have tolerated your prevarications and enjoyed your teasing and your mysteriousness, but I am unwilling to do and be any of those things any longer. What are your secrets?!”

                “I’ve seen the future, years worth of the future!” I say hastily, before immediately flinching internally and externally alike. I should have said almost literally anything else, revealed almost any one of my other secrets, but instead I had to go with the one that could unravel every secret I had. Yet, despite my blunder, the Force seemed content. It was not screaming in warning, not giving me any hint of unease, nor any sign of danger. In for a penny, in for a pound, I supposed.

                “You, a slave, claim to possess such powerful foresight? You dare to mock…” she started to snarl angrily, only to fall silent, her eyes searching my own even as her presence in the Force wrapped around me. I welcomed it, opening my own Self to her, allowing my honesty to radiate from my soul. “You…you’re serious. Force, that explains so much! Why you knew my brother was going to die, why you know so much about the Force, why you act so strangely!”

I restrained the urge to wince. She was technically correct, in that I had predicted her brother’s death, but I had never expected my prediction to come true so quickly nor that her brother would die as the brainless idiot that had opened the Dark Temple. Then she scowled, and I could sense her mood darken.

                “So what is that Beniko bitch going to do? You said that both of us were meant for ‘so much more’, so what do you see her doing that makes you so fond of her?” she asked, and this time I actually did wince. Nicky wasn’t going to be happy about this, but…

                “I’m hesitant to say.” I said slowly, holding up my hands slightly as she glared again. “If I tell you what I’ve seen, and you act on that information, it could change what I’ve seen. If you confront her, or do something to harm her, or do anything at all to change her future, it could cause things to spiral out of control.”

                “Then Kela and I will keep it to ourselves, but I will at least know the future of my childhood rival.” Nicky insisted, sounding almost petulant, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I made a mental note to find out just what had set the two girls against one another. It was probably something very small and very petty. Still, I was trying to build a relationship here, something I could take advantage of to build a powerbase and influence the Empire to a somewhat-improved way of thinking. Blunt honesty might be the way to do things here.

                “In a few year’s time, she will be head of Imperial Intelligence, highly influential, and one of my wives.” I said, before flushing slightly as Nicky seemed to swell with indignation. Perhaps that had been a bit too blunt, not only claiming that the merchant’s daughter Nicky seemed to loathe would be a powerful figure in our society, but also one of my wives. Of course, whether she was offended by the idea that Lana would be romantically involved with me at all or the statement that she would be mine rather than me being hers.

It turned out to be both.

                “A merchant’s daughter, overseeing Imperial Intelligence! Ridiculous! The only thing more absurd is the implication that you would ever be free to marry that blond slut!” she hissed unhappily, and I tilted my head and considered her, probing her emotions lightly and scrutinizing her body language. Combined with how she had reacted when Lana had taken an interest in me, indeed when combined with the fact that she had taken me to Lana’s shop expressly to show me off to the other girl, I concluded that…

                “Are you jealous?” the words fell from my mouth without much input on my part, my tone incredulous, and the look she shot me was so venomous, and with such an undercurrent of uncharacteristic vulnerability, that I immediately felt bad for it. Only for a moment, though, and then a grin that could only be described as shit-eating spread across my lips. She groaned in disgust and released me, trying to get to her feet, but I decided to take a wild shot while I had the opportunity.

With her hand no longer around my throat I lunged upwards, wrapping my arms around and covering her lips with my own. She gave a muffled sound of surprise, hands wrapping around my upper arm, and I could feel a slight tingle as she reacted defensively, but then it faded, the kiss deepened, and I felt pleasure both physical and emotional flow from her to me. I also felt the surprise and arousal from Kela as she watched, but it was the nature of the surprise that was interesting to me. She didn’t seem surprised that Nicky and I were kissing, only that I was the one to initiate it. That was reassuring, it meant she had previously suspected Nicky was attracted to me, or known it.

                “Hpmh. Filthy slave. Who do you think you are, taking such liberties with one so superior to yourself as I?” the pureblood didn’t quite mumble the words when the kiss was broken, but it had not a single note of genuine anger or offense behind it. When taken together with her blush, a darkening of her cheeks towards a shade of purple, enhanced her desirability considerably. Even if it was cute rather than her normal sensual confidence. “If you’re going to do that sort of thing, you could at least tell me my future. And it had better be better than Lana’s.”

Especially if it was cute. I had always loved the ‘cool, confident, commanding woman is secretly a why pervert when being the seduced rather than the seducer’ thing. Not that the ‘sweet and shy girl who must be protected at all costs’ didn’t have it’s own distinct attractions. But that was the benefit of being polyamorous and polygamous, wasn’t it? You could collect all the archtypes and love them all in their own ways, couldn’t you?

                “It can be, provided we are wise. Your master, Acharon, is going to rise to the Dark Council as Head of the Pyramid of Biotic Sciences within a couple of years. Not long after that, he dies battling a Republican strike team. Learn all that you can, master what he has to teach you, make alliances aplenty and enemies few, and don’t accompany him, and you’re a shoe-in for replacing him.” I told her, keeping the fact that the man would die on Corellia out of things for the moment, if only because I had no idea how things might change between now and then. When vocalizing visions of future, being vague was always a wise decision.

Kela gasped as Nicky’s eyes widened, her senses searching me again for the veracity of my claim, and I gave her a small, confident half-smile. She broke out into a brilliant grin, shooting off of my lap and grabbing Kela, kissing her soundly with a barely muffled sound of delight and excitement, leaving me to climb to my feet with a sense of bemusement.

                “A Dark Councilor! Me! One of the Twelve!” she crowed excitedly, her mood thoroughly lifted. “It’s almost enough to make me not care that Beniko might end up as one too!”

She paused, thinking over what she just said, before looking back at me, even as she continued embracing Kela.

                “That’s why you got so angry when you saw us fighting. She and I are going to be colleagues in the future, sitting on the Council together, and you don’t want us to waste our time and resources fighting with one another instead of serving the Empire. That’s why you’ve been talking to me about the flaws with how the Sith live and rule. You’re trying to lay the groundwork for that.” Her tone was a strange one, as if she was struggling to decide whether she was offended by my manipulation, impressed by my foresight, awed by my cunning, or grateful for my care.

Which was entirely fair, honestly. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it either, and I was the one who had been doing it. I did know how to feel about her deductive skills though, and didn’t hesitate to inform her how impressive it was, and how correct she was. I had been prepping her, making her doubt the way things were, making her wonder how they could be instead. Of course, I had also been working on worming my way into her heart in order to seduce her and make her one of my brides with Kela as our mutual plaything, but I didn’t think it necessary to point that out. I had, apparently, already succeeded in that. At least enough that she enjoyed kissing me and got jealous over the idea of anyone but Kela being near me.

Hmm. I would need to work on the jealousy thing, wouldn’t I, if I wanted to avoid having cut-throat inter-harem politics, wouldn’t I? I had no interest in living a life where all of my wives and concubines were constantly trying to harm or undercut one another for proverbial brownie points.

Feeling rather bold, I moved over to one of the Roman-esque lounges and sat, legs spread, and made an impossible to misinterpret grabbing motion at the two of the, patting the space between my legs (which just so happened to be Nicky-sized) with a grin. She hesitated for a moment, pride warring with affection and curiosity, and I wondered if the kiss was all the progress I would make with her today. Then Kela stepped forward, tugging her along behind, deftly twirling her mistress about and pushing her into my grasp. My hands latched onto Nicky’s slender waist and curvaceous hips, pulling her down onto the lounge as our Kela settled onto the floor beside us. The petite ravenette beamed up at us, and under her expectant gaze Nicky loosened up to the point that she was willing to scoot back and settle herself against my chest, spooning herself as much as possible given our current position.

I wrapped my left arm around her waist with an air of comfortable possession, one that only grew as she didn’t protest or act uncomfortable. After a moment of letting her settle myself, I snapped my fingers at Kela, a slight beckoning of my fingers bringing those soft raven locks in range for the both of us.

                “You will not remain a slave, will you Vestara?” Nicky murmured after several minutes in my embrace, watching as I pet Kela with casual, familiar ease, her presence in the Force probing mine almost thoughtfully. “Your future is not to remain here with Kela and I. Your future, it’s related to Zash and her push to get slaves admitted to Korriban. How? Why?”

                “Zash is…for all she claims that she wants to offer slaves a chance to advance, to fully embrace the meritocratic ideals of our nation, the only thing she really wants is me.” I admitted, wondering how much I should reveal so quickly. On the one hand, the fact that Nicky was so aggressively possessive of me even when I wasn’t her lover and even when she didn’t know the truth out me was encouraging. I doubted her opinion would change once she found out why Zash wanted me. On the other, the last thing I needed was for the two of them to run into each other and for the pureblood to reveal anything to the blonde Lord.

                “I figured that she had a special interest in you. Following us all the way from the markets like she did…if all she was looking for was a good fuck, a fun plaything, or someone to experiment on, there were plenty of options there for her. But to specifically seek us out, to so quickly and so directly state her desire to own you…it’s not right, it’s unusual, and it doesn’t make sense.”

She paused for a long moment.

                “Explain it to me?”

Gratifyingly enough, it actually sounded like a question, and I took a moment to reflect on my incredible fortune to find myself owned by this young woman. A woman that actually took the core tenents of Sith Philosophy to heart, who believed in and practiced the spirit of the Empire rather than ignoring it entirely. She had tolerated my silence, encouraged and enjoyed my teasing, shown me genuine affection and been something very like a friend to me. And now here she sat, in an arguably submissive position wrapped in my arms, letting me treat Kela as if her childhood companion belonged to me.

The Force moves in mysterious and inexplicable ways. I mused to myself, knowing full well that there was little chance or coincidence in any of this. Even if I didn’t know how I had died, to be reborn when and where and as who I was? To find myself in this girl’s company and care? No, there was no chance to be found here, and I couldn’t be happier with that fact.

                “Zash is dying. She made the same mistake as countless Sith, especially those amongst the Pyramid of Ancient Knoweldge, make. She reached too deeply, too recklessly, and with far too much greed into the Force. Now her body is steadily rotting around her as she ages at many times the normal rate. Thus, she needs a way to survive, and in the writings of Tulak Hord she found a solution. The Ritual of Essence Transferrence. An ancient, powerful ritual that will allow her to unbind her soul from her body…and place it in another’s.” I finally answered, somewhat wonderingly regarding my outpouring of honesty and detail despite my constant mental mantra of changing as little as possible in order to maintain control.

It was genuinely heartwarming to feel both women stiffen beneath my hands, [Wrath] and [Hate] and [Fear] and [Disgust] radiating off of them, wafting so strongly from the Sith against my chest that I could nearly see it, a cloud of emotion quite literally roiling off of her skin.

                “She wants your body. She wants to kill you and wear your body like a dress!” Kela breathed, and I nodded grimly in agreement, a bitter twist to my mouth.

                “Oh yes, oh yes. Off I’ll go to Korriban, surviving my trials and ascending to apprenticeship beneath her. I’ll roam a half-dozen worlds at her command, collecting the artifacts required for the ritual, and when I return she will invite me to a secret chamber to ‘empower’ me to that I can ‘achieve my destiny’.” I ground out, remembering how vexed I had been the first time I had played through the story. I hadn’t been surprised by her betrayal, of course, Sith being Sith. But I had thought it would be because I was growing too powerful too quickly, or that she was going to use the ritual to empower herself in order to launch a coup to kill Thanaton, just as she had used me to kill Skotia. “Then she will try to pour herself into me, and pretend to be me. My body, my life, my triumphs and failures. The women I have come to care for as my own.”

I squeezed Nicky’s midriff as I said the words, my hand on Kela’s head gliding down to cup her face, the thumb stroking her chin lightly as she looked up at me with horrified eyes.

                “She’ll take all of it for herself.” I finished, now seething with no small amount of fury myself, as I pictured Zash-in-my-body fucking Kela, seducing Nicky. Impregnating my girls, raising the children that should have been mine. Taking my future, my dreams, my hopes for the Empire and the Republic and the Galaxy entire, and burning them away with her own wants. “Or, at least, she will try. ‘She who sees her own doom can better avoid its path. She who sees the doom of others can deliver it.’ I intend to live up to that.”

They were silent for a long moment, absorbing what I had said and sorting through it, processing it, contemplating it, before Nicky gave a decisive nod.

                “That is obviously unacceptable. I will have to train you personally to ensure that you crush everyone and everything before you on Korriban. I will not be known as the woman whose slave ascended to the ranks of the Sith, only for the girl to have her own body stolen out from under her by some self-important cunt that will, doubtlessly, ruin it just as she ruined her own.” She declared, and even as both Kela and I smiled in response, I couldn’t help but agree. I very much doubted that Zash would have learned her lesson and taken better care of her new body had she succeeded. On the contrary, she would probably delve even more foolishly than before, knowing that she had an easy way out of any physical corruption her efforts would inflict upon her.

                “You’ll get no argument from me, but I suggest we keep that to ourselves. Somehow, I doubt your father would be in agreement with the two of us when it comes to handling this situation.” I agreed, tone a little dry, and she gave a harsh snort of agreement. Pausing, I tilted my head thoughtfully before grinning. “Say, how would you like to start with a little field-trip to some of the tombs. Like, say, the Tomb of Ergast?”

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Aloysius Kallig was in a foul mood. He had taken the time to roam the halls of his home, to gaze out onto the grounds, and the state of disrepair it was all in was disgraceful. Between the dilapidated appearance of everything and the random sentients roaming about, he would almost believe he had been sleeping for years rather than hours! Obviously that brat that had invaded his home had brought more sycophants than he had first expected, and it was only growing worse as more and more arrived. Still, with their leader (though the fool hardly deserved such a title) dead, they had all been quick to prostrate themselves before him and begin setting things back to right.

All to the better, that, because it was of paramount importance that things were restored more-or-less to order before he summoned the daughter of his daughters home for a thorough discussion. He could hardly interrogate her about her decisions and company (chastising her as required) if the family estate was in such a state of disrepair as this! How much respect could he hold as Patriarch of Kallig if this was what she arrived to witness!

Besides, if she ended up bringing her woman and their slave-girl, he would not allow them to witness his family in anything less than their full splendor. Naturally, they would already be aware that they were engaged in a relationship above their place, by dint of his descendant’s superior breeding and name, but there was something to be said for suitably driving a point home.

He wondered, idly, if his descendant was simply playing with the girl, or intended to make her a concubine, perhaps even a bride? They had seemed fond of one another in the brat’s memories, but those memories were tainted with his own inflated sense of worth and rapacious hunger. Hardly a reliable method of evaluating the closeness or depth of such an involvement.

Something else to discuss with her when she came to visit him, then. Playing with those beneath you, taking them into your bed and ruling them in both body and soul was thoroughly expected and profoundly appropriate, but for all his belief in what it meant to be Sith, he had never been one who had deceived others about the depth of their relationship with him or their value in his eyes. Whether you intended to make a bride, concubine, plaything, or one-night stand, it was best to be upfront about it. If you had to lie in order to get people into your bed, your bloodline wasn’t worth continuing anyway.

                “Master. Lord Kallig?” a voice brought him from his thoughts, and he glanced over to see one of his newest servants, a dutiful Force-blind soldier by the name of Malith, kneeling a few feet away. At his way of acknowledgement, the man continued. “Master, the storms outside are continuing to rage. Work is becoming impossible. What is your will?”

                “Order the rest of my servants to withdraw into the estate. Only those that are required to keep watch on the main entrance are to remain exposed to the elements, and only in rotating intervals of an hour.” He ordered after a moment of contemplation with a small frown, folding his hands behind his back. “I have no interest in losing anyone useful nor in any further damage being done simply because working properly is impossible under current conditions. The fact that my House is in such condition as this is galling enough as it is, I’ll not have it get worse by trying to fix it without proper preparation.”

                “Yes, Master Kallig.” The man bowed his way from the room to carry out his new commands, and Kallig returned to his contemplations. He had a great deal of work to do, in a very short amount of time if he wanted to see the daughter of his daughters sooner rather than later, but he had his pride. He would not, like so many other young idiots that insisted on calling themselves Sith, half-ass things due to allowing impatience to override basic sense. It was one reason that he was still alive and thousands of them weren’t. Oh, they had tried to mock him, disgrace him, refuse his position at Tulak Hord’s side, but how had that ended for them, hmm? Dead in a ditch or thoroughly disgraced, usually both, while he rose higher and higher and higher still. Let them sneer at his patience, his common sense, his ability to play the long game. Strategy and logistics one conflicts, no matter what the nature of the conflict in question was.

Hmm, perhaps he should send a few of his servants out to keep an eye on his descendant? Even if he couldn’t summon her before him just yet, there was no reason he couldn’t have her followed and watched, and he could learn more about those she spent her time with as well. Better to approach their inevitable meeting without being entirely ignorant, after all, because how could he do his due diligence as her patriarch if he had to rely on her for all of his information?

Never trust the young to confess themselves of their own failings and mistakes. He sighed mentally, departing his chambers as he considered whom to send. Truly, running a House full of rambunctious, bold young women was exhausting, and he wasn’t getting any younger.

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Chapter Text

Welcome to another chapter of Crown of Slaves! We’re getting into the endgame of the prologue, at last, and will soon be getting into the game content proper! Huzzah!

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Eight

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Unfortunately for my plans, going to the Tomb of Ergast was still thoroughly impossible due to the raging Force Storms that the Temple’s opening had started. Even on foot it was still deemed too dangerous, between the wind and hail and all-consuming, oppressive metaphysical weight. And, quite frankly, Nicky’s name might have been insufficient to get them past the guards and patrols in the area even if that weren’t an issue we had to worry about.

Which meant that I was being left to Nicky’s some-what-tender mercies. The girl was merciless in her training, ruthless in her attempts to ferret more information out of me about the future, and entirely too proud of herself. Though that last one was a bit justified, even if I was rather concerned that she would do something stupid in the belief that she was fated to succeed. To my pleasure, she wasn’t that arrogant or foolish, instead fully understanding the fact that my ‘visions’ were not a guarantee of success, only of possibility. Besides, or so she told me, she had no interest in coasting on someone else’s dreams and plans and manipulations to achieve her goals, especially not since doing so would guarantee losing her position and her life not long thereafter.

Say what you want about the Empire’s bizarrely bipolar approach to it’s proclaimed system of meritocratic advancement, but at least the flagrantly incompetent were usually handled in relatively short order. Usually after cost the Empire a lot of loyal lives, unfortunately, and causing no small amount of internal strife, but the point still stood even if the legs were a bit shaky.

Of course, the two of you had to restrain your time training pretty heavily. Lord Luwian was a seething mass of suspicion and wrath as he tried to discover the fate of his heir and who was responsible for it, Lady Luwian was watching him and the rest of the household with evaluating, calculating eyes, and Asmi-Sarruma just seemed overwhelmed by it all, the poor kid.

Despite all the issues, though, there was plenty of training to be had. Even if she was only an apprentice herself, freshly graduated from Korriban, she had far, far more practical knowledge than I did. Practical knowledge that she was carefully providing me, though she was scrupulously avoiding giving any information about Korriban or the trials themselves. No matter how much she appreciated the future which I offered, she informed me quite haughtily, the trials of Korriban were a sacred thing that were not to be interfered with. General training and preparations were one thing, anything specific that involved the training and trials of the Sith holy world were quite another.

Not that I needed her to tell me anything, of course, given the fact that I already knew exactly what my trials would be…I hoped. Zash knowing of my existence probably wouldn’t change her trials. After all, she still needed the holocron, the writings, and the star-map that were hidden on the planet, and I doubted she would rig the trials too heavily in my favor. If she trusted in her visions as much as she claimed to, she had already foreseen my success in the trials and my ascension to apprenticeship under her.

All of that to say, of course, that I was currently a bruised and sore mess that was gently rubbing warm medicinal oils (a Sith Alchemical creation, apparently, one that Nicky and I could use only because her family made their own) in her injuries, sitting in the mixed bath/steam room attached to Nicky’s suite, watching as an amused Kela did the same for the far-less-battered and smugly entertained pureblood that had ever-so-kindly dribbled me up once side of the training room and down the other with little in the way of restraint or mercy. She had also shown me that immense power in the Force, broad and advanced theoretical knowledge, and half remembered martial arts were not remotely sufficient to contend with a graduate of Korriban.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, really, that a Pureblood would be talented. Nor should I have been surprised by the fact that someone who survived and thrived in the vicious, cutthroat atmosphere of the Sith Academy would be genuinely dangerous. This was a reality for me now, not a video game that bore limitations by design, yet despite knowing that fact I had still thoroughly underestimated just what it would be like dealing with a graduated Apprentice. If Nicky had, at any point, genuinely wanted me dead, all of my immense power would have been utterly useless because I had no idea how to properly wield it.

Oh, I could brute force things, of course. Despite my utter lack of training, the Force did still answer the call of it’s wielders and could be clumsily directed by simple, ironclad force of will, by desire and imagination. But what use is a battering ram against a sparrow? True, were it to strike the sparrow, the sparrow would be obliterated, but what use was power without direction?

Ironic, really, given my commentary on the Sith to Nicky not so very long ago.

                “Stop grinning so much, damnit!” I finally grumbled, wincing as I worked a particularly spectacular bruise on my inner thigh, where Nicky had landed a rather vicious strike that seemed to have been a Force-enhanced, martial-artist version of a Charley Horse. “You’re supposed to be training me, not using me for so much stress relief that I can’t even walk the next day!”

A pulse of lust and amused delight from both of my companions washed over me, and I rolled my eyes heavenward just in time for Nicky to open her mouth and respond.

                “Now, Vestara, I had thought you would welcome a chance for the three of us to be naked and dripping with oil together, relieving our stresses and leaving one another littered with bruises and other marks of energetic entanglement.” She prodded slyly, and I huffed at her as Kela giggled in amusement, though I didn’t even try to restrain my eyes as they wandered over both of my companions. There had always been something about massage oil (and water, but especially oil) on a beautiful woman that drove me nuts. The soft, glistening skin, the slight sheen that caused light to ripple and dance across the contours of the body…maddening in all the best ways. Nicky preened as my eyes roamed her crimson skin, her smirk broadening as she quite literally posed, and a nudge of her elbow had Kela doing the same as they displayed themselves in all of their diverse but radiant glory.

                “I’d love nothing more than to do just that, far more sensually than what we have spent the last few hours doing.” I said in a voice far more husky than was normally my wont, cock hardening rapidly at the incredible view, the lust now wafting like the tide from the two of them, and the way their own eyes roamed my body in return. “I would love nothing more than to make Kela scream my name as I fucked her into a drooling, insensate mess. To watch you cum again, and again, and again as your road her clever little tongue for all that she was worth and more! To throw you down and show you just how little social rank means behind the closed doors of a bedroom suite!”

They both shuddered, nipples peaking sharp and taught, tantalizing droplets of still-unabsorbed oil pooling there, just as arousal pooled between their legs as their eyes locked onto the shaft between mine. There was not an ounce of protest nor disgust in their expressions, their bodies, their presences within the Force, and I felt my patience wane. Besides the one night with Kela and the blowjob in the library, I hadn’t gotten off since I had arrived here, and I was fit to burst. With two entirely receptive, even eager, partners ready and within reach, did I really want to resist any longer?

No, no I didn’t.

The bottle of oil clattered loudly across the floor as I cast it aside, but the neither the noise nor the fact that a quantity of oil with such a value as to feed a lower-class family for several months was spilling across the floor held even the slightest interest to me. All that mattered was the two young women before me, their eyes bright with desire and excitement as I swept towards them. Picking up Kela and throwing her over my shoulder, I crooked my finger at Asmu-Nikal and headed for the bedroom, a sharp wave of my hand and a pulse in the Force sending the door flying open with enough force that it likely risked damaging the internal mechanisms. Not that I gave so much of a solitary damn about that, any more than I had the oil.

Kela giggled and squirmed delightfully in my grip, nearly slipping out of it several times between the oil on my skin and her admittedly impressive strength and mouth-watering flexibility. Of course, she had no more interest in escaping me than I had in letting her get away, but the feigned resistance made the entire moment all the sweeter.

We reached the bed and a Force-assisted toss had Kela bouncing across it’s surface. In my excitement I put a bit too much force into it and she nearly slammed headfirst into the wall at the far side. Fortunately, a deft tendril of Force energy from Nicky wrapped around her and prevented it, though the embarrassment certainly didn’t go anywhere.

                “Easy there, Khai, I would hate for you to break our toy.” She purred, wrapping one arm around my chest and palming my breast as the other ghosted down my body to wrap around my cock, resting her chin on my shoulder as she moulded herself against my back. “Especially because I haven’t gotten to watch you properly play with her yet. Going to follow through on that little speech of yours?”

                “Oh yes, you’re damn straight I will.” I hissed in response, my own hands going to lay over hers, encouraging her efforts as my nerves started to spark and simmer, before pulling them free and turning in her grasp, planting a deep and aggressive kiss on her lips. She gasped slightly in surprise, before moaning as my hands stroked their way down her body to cup her ass, kneading it and caressing it before using it as the leverage I required to pick her up and carry her over to the bed. Her legs came up to wrap around my waist, the soaked folds of her pussy stroking along the length of my shaft as it became trapped beneath her. To my surprise, and a sharp increase in my arousal, she did not release our embrace when I tried to set her down on the luxurious fabric of her sheets. Instead, she only seemed to tighten her grasp, nipping at my bottom lip before soothing the slight sting with a swirl of her tongue.

With my partner now supported by the bed, my hands could roam her body, and that’s exactly what they did. Touching, caressing, stroking, squeezing, indulging in every perverse whim that I had ever imagined when gazing at her body. I broke the kiss, panting with desire, gazing down into her lust-filled golden orbs, a smirk on her lips, and in that heartbeat I wanted nothing more than to break her veneer of control. To see her come undone moment by moment, to watch her fall apart at my hands.

But I couldn’t, not yet. The fact that Nicky was even treating me as anything approaching an equal in this first genuine romantic encounter between the two of us was already an incredible concession on her part. The fact that she was willingly beneath me, even for something as relatively tame as kissing and embracing, would be nothing sort of shameful for someone of her position. The sort of thing that could quite possibly get many a daughter or son born to a Sith family of Luwian’s rank killed. Actually overtly dominating her, even if I knew her well enough by now and had enough insight into her mind to know she would enjoy it, would most certainly be a bridge too far right now. She would enjoy it in the moment, but once the moment was over…well.

Of course, that didn’t mean I couldn’t perform a few subtler acts of domination to slowly ease her towards the proper end result.

                “So who should I fuck first, Nicky? Do you want to watch me breed Kela, or do you want to be the first one to get some tonight? Are you riding Kela’s face while I fuck her cross-eyed, or is she riding yours while you get your first taste of me?” I asked, running my hands from her hips across her stomach (enjoying the rippling contours of her subtle musculature) up to her breasts, cupping them and enjoying how they felt in my hands. The similarities with my own and Kela’s were undeniable, but there was a slight texture to them, one I would struggle to define or put into words, but it made them different in a way that I found highly enjoyable. She arched her back lightly, pressing them into my hands eagerly, and I squeezed my hands lightly in response, to her clear approval.

                “Do you really think I’m going to let my slave’s cunt get to taste you first this time? Bad enough that the horny little slut couldn’t stay off your shaft long enough for me to get you between my legs, but it damn well won’t be happening again.” She responded, managing to sound somewhat censorious despite the lazy pleasure that suffused her voice.

                “You didn’t seem too unhappy when she told you we had fucked. In fact, you seemed pretty amused, even pleased by it. Besides, she was far too chipper to have actually gone against your instructions.” I responded, amused by her attitude, and she sneered at me.

                “I’m used to Kela being a whore, she loves to prance around and tease me until I fuck her raw and flog her into a mess. She was probably hoping that I would punish her for fucking you without asking my permission first, then bring you into our bed so she could do it on the regular.” She explained, casting a mocking look at Kela, who gave her an admittedly adorable pout but tellingly did nothing to disagree or argue with her statement. “Which is exactly why I did neither of those things.”

                “Mhm, of course, one shouldn’t reward the misbehaviors of one’s submissives, I can agree with that. Even if her misbehavior was very much to my benefit. Of course, in the end, she is getting exactly what she wants, isn’t she? You, me, and her, all in the same bed for the first time, and not for the last time either.” I nodded with a somewhat exaggerated expression of thoughtfulness, and Nicky snorted, one hand creeping down to stroke my shaft slowly, and I gave a low hiss of approval at the pleasure, before falling silent as she rubbed my sensitive glans against her soaked folds, before pressing it against her entrance and looking me in the eyes.

Her intentions, her desires, couldn’t have been more clear, and I slowly pressed myself into her. Inch by aching inch I sank inside of her depths. The way her expressions changed, even as she tried to exert control over herself, was a treasure to watch. Her lips parted in a nearly silent gasp, her eyes widened with surprise, her breath stuttering and quickening. She was almost painfully tight, though not outright virginal, which perhaps wasn’t a surprise. She had already told me she wasn’t particularly fond of those cocks were typically attached too, and I didn’t see her putting a strap-on onto Kela and mounting it instead of just using it on Kela instead.

Besides which, and I said this with only the most natural amount of smug arrogance, I was longer and thicker than most, whether flesh and blood or artificial. For someone as unused to being penetrated as Nicky was, it probably bordered on being outright uncomfortable.

I didn’t know how to feel about the arousal that thought provided me before marking it down as being born from pride in my size and the admittedly childish urge to be the biggest thing she ever had or ever would have inside of her, before I was finally as far within her as it was possible to be. Our hips were flush together, my pelvic bone grinding against her clit, and she shuddered lightly as her fingers traced where we were joined. Exploring her wide-spread lips, tracing my stomach just above my invading shaft, and she gave me a small but wholly genuine smile.

I couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her, and I didn’t even try. Our lips melded together, our teeth nipping and pulling, our tongues swirling and tangling, and after a few moments more she shifted her hips slightly. Taking the message of encouragement for what it was, I started to withdraw. We moaned together at the dueling sensations, the flare of my tip scraping against her internal walls as they tried desperately to keep me right where I was.

                “You feel so good wrapped around me, Nicky. Force, you feel incredible. Hot and wet and tight, so fucking tight. Am I the only cock you’ve ever had? Am I the only one that’s gotten between these thighs with anything more than a tongue or a couple of fingers?” I asked a little breathlessly as my head rested just inside her entrance, separating our lips with no small amount of regret, and she was equally breathless when she responded.

                “I told you, Ves. I don’t like the vast majority of people that have cocks attached to them. They’re selfish, arrogant, brainless pieces of shit that get off on murder-raping people. So yes, you’re the only one that’s fucked me with any kind of cock, real or not. Now shut the fuck up and fuck me, or I swear to the Force…”

Her threat was cut off with a strangled cry as I slammed back into her, filling her in a single thrust, before starting towards a rhythm.

                “Gods, yes, that’s the way I want you to do it!” she snarled after a moment, eyes bright and aura shining brighter still in my perception. “Hard and fast and merciless! Fuck me like you’re trying to own me, damn you!”

Well, with an invitation like that, how could I do anything but indulge?

So I did.

The bed was too big and well-built to rock or creak or otherwise have any of the stereotypical signs of a vigorous sex, which would have been disappointing if I had the wherewithal to even take note of it. Instead, the only thoughts (if they even deserved to be called that) going through my mind at the moment were how incredible Nicky felt and how happy I was to finally, finally, be delivering all of my pent-up desires for her onto and into her.

                “You call Kela a slut, but you’re not any better, or you? All that naked yoga, all those sexy clothes, all those times you made me dress and undress you while Kela just got to stand there and watch! Constantly tempting me, constantly teasing me, constantly fucking with me but never actually fucking me!” I snarled right back, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head as I adjust my angle slightly, forcing her to tilt her hips a little higher and allowing me to reach even deeper parts of her cunt. “Do you regret it, now? Do you regret waiting so long before asking me to fuck you? Do you regret waiting so long to spread your fucking legs like a good girl?”

My frustration, my affection, my lust and satisfaction, flowed through the bond between us. Pressing into her mind, soaking into her presence, permeating her essence. My desire, primal, powerful, hungry, for her to be a ‘good girl’ suffused every syllable. Not intentional on my part, nothing approaching brainwashing or mind control, but…influential. If she hadn’t already had hidden, even unacknowledged, submissive tendencies it would have accomplished nothing.

But she did, and it did.

She clenched around me with a soft squeal, eyes rolling back and legs tightening around my hips as her hands spasmed, her arms twisting and straining against my hold as she came. I didn’t relent, continuing to thrust into her, riding her as she rode through it, and she leaned up to press her face into the crook of my neck, teeth latching onto my trapezius and sinking deep. I shouted in surprise, but the slight pain and the knowledge that she was feeling such pleasure as to abandon decorum in such a way only aroused me more.

It only took me another minute or so of thrusting into he drawing out her orgasm as long as I could, before I came myself. My balls clenched, my cock throbbed, and jet after jet of hot, sticky, thick cum poured into my new lover. She cried out into my neck again again, pulsing around me as she started cumming a second time at the sensation of my seed pouring into her womb, filling it to the brim and spilling out to begin filling the rest of her tunnel.

I slumped down on top of her, our breasts rubbing against one another in time with our heavy breathing, our sweat-slicked skin damp, our hair clinging to it in a way that should have been nowhere near tantalizing as it was. I didn’t even realize that I had released her hands until they cradled my face and drew me into a kiss that I happily returned. We lay there for a moment, continuing to kiss each other gently, before a plaintive sound from beside us drew our attention. Kela was kneeling on the bed, watching us with desperate need and hands clenched on her thighs, and I realized abruptly that the submissive girl hadn’t been given any instructions on what to do while Nicky and I fucked. Which meant she had just knelt there, watching without touching herself even once.

I glanced back down at the pureblood beneath me, my crimson eyes meeting her golden ones, and we both grinned a bit sadistically.

                “Well, Nicky, it seems that Kela is feeling desperately unloved. We should probably do something about that, shouldn’t we?” I ‘asked’, and she made a show of giving me a solemn nod, though her mien was somewhat ruined by the fact that I was slowly pulling out of her as I spoke.

                “I-indeed. She should understand how disobedient she was. Between the two of us, I’m sure that we can make things clear to her.” She agreed with an instinctual pout at being empty once again before rolling up onto her knees, and Kela gave a whimpering moan as the two of us turned on her with outstretched hands and perverse intent.

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Darth Marr, Dark Lord of the Sith, Councilor of the Sphere of Defense of the Empire, The Empire’s Stalwart Shield, The Iron-clad, and countless other epithets (including, perhaps, the one most cherished and most secret of them all: Koret Solusar, dutiful son to a loving family slaughtered during a slave revolt), frowned down at the datapad in his hands, freshly delivered to him by one of his many subordinates.

                “The storms have yet to abate, but we have managed to get observation drones and long-range cameras close enough to at least partially monitor the Dark Temple, My Lord. It leaves much to be desired, but we can at least confirm that the survivors of our initial response teams are now acting erratically. They are now defending the Temple, acting as sentries and even making barricades and similar fortifications in and around the entrance.” That same subordinate, a Rutian Twi’lek male whose past life as a smuggler and privateer made him one of the best intelligence assets Marr had ever cultivated for himself, and Marr nodded silently as he flicked through the images slowly, occasionally zooming in on particular points. “Of late, a handful vanished into the woods, but they have not checked in with any of their contacts or superiors.”

                “They betrayed us, Master? Your own troops?” Corilla Hamner, his apprentice, sounded nothing short of appalled (and wrathful, of course, as one would expect), though there was a confusion there as well. Unsurprising, while Marr was known for being ruthless and merciless with enemies and allies alike and had little patience for incompetence, he also led from the front and richly rewarded those who did well. His troops might fear him, but they also respected him immensely and were loyal to a degree that bordered on fanatical.

                “You are rushing ahead, my apprentice.” He chastised her lightly, glancing over at her yellow-orange eyes, standing out in stark contrast to the dark brown of her eyeliner, and the girl who had long since decided to name herself ‘Darth Lachris’ when she finally left his tutelage flushed faintly at the common correction. Like many young Sith, she was prone to acting precipitously and based on her emotions in the moment, rather than thinking long term or considering the consequences. One of the many things he was working on drilling into her head was the difference between being bold and being foolhardy, between taking a calculated risk and being a suicidal idiot. “They could simply be fortifying the entrance to the temple until the storms abate and aid or reinforcements can reach them. Battling their way through the storms would risk further casualties and likely accomplish nothing.”

It would have seemed strange to some, that he would want them to fortify their position and keep their heads down until the storms ended after willing and deliberately sending them into that storm to begin with, but those same ‘some’ probably lacked the ability to think flexibly. The same ‘some’ that he ended up having to execute because they through a brigade of perfectly good troops into a meat-grinder because ‘strength’ was a Sith trait and ‘retreating was cowardice, and cowards have no place in our great and glorious Empire’.

Cowardice did not. Prudence and tactical wisdom did. The Republic outnumbered the Empire by a vast margin, it’s industry many times in size and far more robust. For the Empire to achieve victory, take it’s revenge, and secure a lasting security for itself and it’s people required not frivolously expending men and material because one young lordling (or, on occasion, an older one trying to reclaim past glories) was to stupid or to proud to take a wiser path.

It also required not marginalizing the capable for the circumstances of their birth, which was the only reason he was tentatively supportive of Zash’s push for general admission of slaves to Korriban. And why he made no discernment or discrimination based upon race when it came to his own subordinates. Someday, perhaps, that policy could be spread to the Empire as a whole, but it would doubtless be distantly in the future…or, perhaps, not so distantly if war broke out again.

But that was all a thought, a contemplation, and a discussion for a later date.

                “We will leave the Temple as it is for the time being, and wait for the storms to calm rather than throwing more troops and equipment into a maelstrom.” He decided, before glancing at another subordinate. “Movement from the rest of the Dark Council?”

                “None, My Lord. It seems that those few that are on the homeworld are more than happy to let you handle this situation, and all of the risks associated with it. I expect that Thanaton and Rictus will be eager to get involved the moment it seems all of those risks have vanished.” The subordinate, whose features were entirely covered and whose voice was artificially altered in order to preserve the secrecy of their identity, shook their head, and Marr resisted the urge to snort in contemptuous agreement.

Thanaton of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge was a hypocritical worm who paid obsessive lip service to Sith culture and traditions despite being an ‘affront’ to them himself. He was also, in Marr’s humble opinion, a coward. Someone who betrayed allies as easily as breathing while lacking the courage or the righteousness to do it to their faces.

Rictus, meanwhile…well, the Councilor of the Sphere of Mysteries was an enigma. Marr would give him credit for his utter loyalty to the Empire and it’s people from enemies foreign and domestic alike, and (more applicable in this particular situation) from knowledge that should not be known to or learned by the public at large. Unfortunately, The Keeper of Mysteries was also a reclusive and secretive man that rarely involved himself in Council Meetings, spoke even less often, and was never remotely honest or open about his desires or intentions.

                “Fine. Let them fight one another for scraps once I have confirmed the situation, I have neither the time nor the interest to waste brainpower on them or their foolishness. Corilla, your report on the youths who took speeders towards the Temple before the storms began?” he waved the distant pair away with a an irritated, dismissive wave, and his apprentice nodded before stepping forward and offering him a sheaf of flimsy and a small datapad of images, which he accepted with a raised eyebrow.

                “My Master, we’ve confirmed that the last people to approach the Dark Temple before it was awakened and the storms began was a pureblood by the name of Tudalhiya Luwian and a group of his followers. Based on the timing of their approach and the beginning of the event, we feel reasonably confident that this group was responsible for opening the Temple.” She began her report as he turned the datapad on, scrutinizing the image of the pureblood.

                “Luwian. A pureblood dynasty some centuries old. Heavily involved in the Spheres of Ancient Knowledge and Biotic Sciences, with a heavy emphasis on trying to revive and recreate ancient Sith Sorcery techniques, correct?” he reeled off confidently, fully aware that he was wholly correct, before frowning slightly. “Why is it that I remember a daughter, not a son?”

                “Because Tudalhiya was a useless, self-aggrandizing, murderous rapist of a boy whose only redeeming value was his ability to be a blunt instrument and his familial connections. His sister, Asmu-Nikal, is far more competent. Top of her classes at the Academy, passed her trials near-flawlessly, and was immediately accepted as an apprentice to Lord Acharon.” Corilla responded with a bite of contempt, and Marr nodded, even as a picture of the young pureblood girl in question came up on the datapad. Yes, he remembered her. He kept an eye on the Academy to see who might prove useful, or detrimental, to the Empire in the future. While her talents and knowledge did not suit his own responsibilities and duties, he had been somewhat approving of her at the time. “She is better natured as well. Even-tempered, patient, cunning. Proper on her own merits, and certainly a superior Sith compared to her brother.”

                “So, a young buck with a superior sister attempts to prove himself by taking his little group of cronies to the Dark Temple, opening it in an effort to show one and all what a strong paragon of Sith virtue he is.” Marr mused thoughtfully, interlacing his fingers over his stomach as he leaned back slightly in his chair, contemplating the situation for a long moment. “Chances that the sister or the other members of the family are involved in this?”

                “Possible but unlikely for Lord Luwian himself. The man is more interested in his experiments and research than anything else. He rarely even leaves the family estate. For the lady of the house, Nikal-Mati, and the youngest son Asmi-Sarruma, impossible. Lady Nikal-Mati is famously reserved, spending her time running House Luwian while her husband experiments, and Asmi-Sarruma is not yet even of an age for puberty, never mind things such as this.” The disguised subordinate reported instantly, not even needing to look at notes of any kind to offer the information. “Asmu-Nikal is cunning enough to use her brother as a tool to her benefit, but it seems unlikely. Reports from the estate, and from the city on the day in question, indicate she spends vast quantities of her time in the company of two slaves. One, her long-time child-hood companion, a human girl by the name of Kela. The other, a former multi-generational experiment of her father’s. Vestara Khai, also human.”

Marr flicked through the pictures of each individual quickly, dismissing the mother and younger brother quickly, lingering for a moment on the daughter of the house, before stopping entirely on the image of Vestara Khai. She was beautiful, any man or woman of such interest would admit that without hesitation, but he cared about that not at all. No, his eyes remained on her because the Force sang to him when he beheld her visage. She was important, somehow. He was no talent at precognition, certainly not outside of battle, but even so he was not deaf to moments such as this.

                “This Vestara Khai, what do we know of her?” he asked, surprise spiking through three presences within The Force as he focused not on any of the nobles, but the slave. The experiment.

                “Little. She was of no interest to anyone outside of the Luwian estate until quite recently, and even now she is known only in periphery to her owners. We know that Lord Luwian experimented on her mother while she was still in the womb, experiments that ended up killing the woman. Vestara, however, survived against all odds. She was born with multiple genitalia and worked as a slave in between having further experiments performed on her. Some months ago, she was subjected to a final experiment that was thought to have killed her, but she revived herself. Not long thereafter, Asmu-Nikal returned from Korriban and took her from the grounds to be one of her personal attendants.” The same subordinate answered again, just as surely, before pausing. “It is also known that she displays abilities within the Force, has unnatural tattoos of a ritualistic nature carved into her body that glow with power, and that Asmu-Nikal is very protective of her.”

Marr sat silently for a long moment, carefully reaching out into the Force even as he considered the situation with his mortal senses and mind. He did not doubt the Force, did not doubt the sensation that had flowed through him the moment he had seen the girl and heard her name, but despite that he was not inclined to act precipitously one way or the other.

                “I want more resources dedicated to House Luwian. I care nothing for the others, I care not even whether or not Tudalhiya indeed opened the Temple. I want every scrap of information that can be garnered on Asmu-Nikal and, especially, Vestara Khai. Go, all of you.” He ordered, and though they were confused and lost, they all bowed in obedience and withdrew from his office, leaving him alone. Looking at the datapad again, he murmured so quietly he wasn’t even sure he had meant to speak aloud. “What purpose do you hold, Vestara Khai? What secrets might you contain? Of what feats and powers are you capable?”

Putting the datapad down, he rose and slowly strode over to his massive, wall-sized window, one which overlooked the breadth and width of Kaas City. In the distance, the storms of the Dark Temple continued to rage, and he wondered. Wondered at the Temple, wondered at the silence of his Emperor, wondered at the fate of his Star-Nation, and wondered at the mystery of a silver-haired slave girl.

Wondered at the future, which seemed to be shifting before his very eyes.

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Chapter Text

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Nine

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                “…seems, based on the reports from those you sent to observe her, that your honored descendant wishes to bring her concubine and slave to meet you, My Lord, and discuss the works of another Lord named Ergast, but it has been deemed too dangerous due to the storms and they have not been permitted to do so.” Malith finished his report on the activities of his descendant, and Aloysious frowned discontentedly, rubbing his bearded chin as he considered the situation. The storms had certainly abated somewhat of late, enough that work on the grounds of his estate could continue…hmm, perhaps it was time for him to perform some old sorceries again.

                “This Ergast, who is he? Is it known what, exactly, my descendant wishes to discuss in regards to him and his works?” he querried, pushing aside the issue of the storms for the moment, and Malith consulted the report in his hands for a moment before frowning slightly.

                “A ritual known as ‘Forcewalking’, My Lord. Apparently, Lord Ergast mastered the art, and she wishes to learn it as well.” Came the answer, and Aloysious couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow at that. Forcewalking, hmm? Some form of ability to move between places using the Force? Or perhaps a method of stealth? A speed enhancement ability? Whatever it was, he had never heard of it, so perhaps the daughter of his daughters wished to master some new, esoteric skill, and sought his advice or approval? It would hardly be the first time a member of his house sought him out for such a reason, and as much as he believed that young Sith should make their own way, he could hardly turn aside his own blood if they needed guidance.

                “When the storms abate, I want the perimeter guards to have been fully briefed on the appearances of not just her, but both of her companions. They are to be escorted to me immediately upon their arrival. If any agent beyond the perimeter encounters them, they are to assist them in reach the estate grounds.” He decreed after several moments of contemplation, drumming his fingers lightly on his arm as he considered what other instructions might need to be delivered. “Oh, and make sure that that rude brat’s little cohort isn’t nearby when they arrive. My descendant’s concubine was once his sibling, and I have no desire to see some sort of spat break out in the midst of my introduction to the daughter of my daughters. Speaking of which, have your agents yet gathered a name for her?”

                “Oh, yes, of course! Forgive me, My Lord, I have shamed myself for not speaking of it sooner.” Malith blanched, looking down with a genuine flush of embarrassment covering his scared, weathered, veteran cheeks, and Kallig could practically hear the self-flagellation running through the man’s mind.

                “Do not beg forgiveness, simply do better in the future. You have served me well so far, and any man can make a mistake.” He advised kindly, and the man straightened with a determined look on his face.

                “I thank you for your graciousness, My Lord. Your honored descendant’s name is Vestara, though she seems to be going by the surname of Khai at the moment. The Brat’s sister is Asmu-Nikal, of the Luwian Dynasty, and the slave girl is known as Kela. They live on the Luwian estate, it seems, though your servants have yet to manage penetrating the security of the estate in any manner. Nor have any of them left the estate, preventing your agents from reaching out to them, so gathering further information is proving difficult.” He explained, and Aloysious nodded thoughtfully, folding his hands behind his back and regarding some of the inscriptions on the wall, though he wasn’t really seeing them so much as gazing in their direction.

                “I shall begin a working to dissipate the storms further. Based on what you have reported, nothing more will be required to bring the three of them to me at last. See to the rest of your duties.” He said finally, his subordinate acknowledging the dismissal with a bow to his back and murmured thanks before withdrawing, leaving Kallig alone once again. “Vestara, hmm? I wonder, blood of my blood, why you do not bear our name?”

He swept from the room, heading for the entrance hall to inspect it’s current status and get a greater feel for the storms, that he might better direct his efforts to clearing the path for his House member. As he walked, absently acknowledging the respects and vows of service his servants offered as he passed them by, he considered that very question.

Dozens of possibilities occurred over the course of that walk, and all but one of them discarded after careful scrutiny. The idea that she had left the family was absurd. First and foremost, had there been a daughter of his House so deeply in conflict with her kin or so rebellious in her behaviour that such a thing would come to pass, he would have heard about it and put a stop to it long before an exile (self-imposed or not) could come to past.

Not to mention the fact that she wouldn’t be trying to reach his palace if she had left the family or been cast out.

Second, the notion that she had changed her name because she was in hiding, trying to avoid the notice of a powerful enemy. Besides the fact that what few surviving enemies he had wouldn’t dream of threatening one of his House so directly as to reacquire such a thing, if she was trying to stay incognito she wouldn’t be trying to visit him openly.

Third, that she had married into some House and taken their name. That was barely worth considering for several reasons. First, she was ever in the company of the daughter Luwian. Second, he would have had to approve any such marriage, and he most certainly hadn’t given any of his descendants away to a House named ‘Khai’. Third, it was absurd to consider that she would leave behind the name of Kallig to take up the name of a house so minor he had never heard of it.

No, the only real explanation, the only explanation that made any sort of sense, was that she was trying to ‘stay off of the scopes’, as the naval officers would say, while building a name and reputation for herself unconnected to her family legacy. An action he wholeheartedly approved of, even if a part of him chafed to see one of his own flesh and blood pretending to be one of the masses. Let her win herself renown on her own merits, rather than risk it being handed to her in an effort to curry favor with him and the rest of his House.

To that end, he wondered, had she even informed her concubine of her true nature, or was the pureblood as in the dark as the rest of the world seemed likely to be? Keeping secrets, holding advantages and playing sabaac with your cards pressed to your chest were all bread and butter to the Sith, but only a fool tried those things with someone that you kept in your own bed. A good way to wake up with your throat slit, that was, if you were lucky. If you were unlucky, it meant the sort of conversation men spoke of in whispers of dread, nervously eyeing their surroundings to make sure none of the women in their lives were nearby.

Oh, the masses might think that the Sith Lords ruled their houses with an iron fist, that their women were well-collared beauties, but those masses were fools! He and Tulak Hord might rule their houses, yes, and their wives and concubines certainly submitted to them, but that only made those very same wives and concubines all the more terrifying when they ever so sweetly and demurely and deftly put their collective foots down and banished them from their own bedchambers on occasion.

Or, as presumably was happening now, they had decided that they were going to go travelling about the Empire on a series of very expensive vacations, occasionally sending holofilms home to show him just how they were enjoying themselves, doubtlessly filled with ever-so-subtle digs at him referencing whatever it was he had done wrong this time. Perhaps he could commiserate with his descendant. Certainly, she too was female, but as the head of her own Household with her own harem of women, perhaps she would fall more onto his side of things? Or would she seek solidarity with her female kin?

Giving a beleaguered sigh, Aloysious shook his head and stepped through the main entrance and out into the sunlight, or at least what passed for it on Dromund Kaas.

…sunlight?

Looking up, Kallig’s eyebrows both drew down in exasperation as the very storm he needed to banish in order for his descendent to reach him finished dissipating before his very eyes. After he had gone to all the effort of walking down here in the first place. He would have been vexed if he wasn’t so used to the planet’s bizzare weather systems. In the end, though, it didn’t really matter whether the weather disappeared on it’s own or due to his efforts, so long as it was dealt with. Satisfied, he took a moment to cast a critical eye on the grounds, making a point of nodding in approval at the efforts his servants were making even as he lamented the fact that they were necessary in the first place, before turning to head back inside with a minute and utterly silent sigh.

On to the next task, then.

Really, he was getting to old for all of this. Maybe he should think about retiring and letting Vestara worry about all this. Follow his harem on one of their little planet-hopping expeditions instead of staying home, for once. A second honeymoon of sorts, perhaps. That sounded nice.

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After that first threesome, the floodgates had been opened. Only rarely did Kela and I sleep in the slave barracks from that point on, and I very much had the impression that Kela had only been sleeping down there previously because I had been sleeping down there. Nearly every night was filled with passion now, and in that passion my bond with the girls, and my influence over them, had only grown.

So had Nicky’s willingness to submit to me sexually, exponentially in fact. I don’t know if she had always been a closeted switch (and she was a switch, just as dominant to Kela as she was submissive to me) or if my building of a Force bond with her and my apparent power as a seer had unlocked something entirely new within her. Most nights were now spent with me driving the both of them into the mattress, and to say that our play had gotten nothing less than filthy would be an understatement. It was paradise, and it was almost enough to make me forget about my goals.

Almost. But not quite.

Which is why I, with a very curious Nicky and very discomfited Kela in tow, was making my way through the forest towards the Dark Temple, and thence the Tomb of Ergast, nearly two and a half months after the Dark Temple had been opened. Time was starting to run out before I would be getting shipped off to Korriban (and I was growing increasingly nervous about how, exactly, that would come to pass), and I would be damned if I followed the stations of canon any more than I absolutely had to.

And, if I was going to be entirely honest, I had a vested interest in impressing Nicky. It was in my nature and my power to become The Forcewalker, and I was going to show her a fraction of what that could mean. Besides, what I was most interested in at the moment, besides absent-mindedly planning all of the wicked, wicked things I wanted to do with my girls tonight, was making it possible that I could keep Kallig around in the long term. He had barely had the strength to show to the Inquisitor a half-dozen times in the game, and only during major crises or turning points in the story. If I was going to rebuild our House and change the Empire from within, I was not inclined to lose so valuable a resource as the one that he represented.

I mean, as the Head of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge, having a Sith that was a contemporary of Tulak Hord himself was a resource that was beyond priceless. The information, the strategies, the knowledge, the wisdom that was locked away in his mind, accessible only to one that could soothe and speak with the dead, could potentially give me the tools that I needed to change the fate of an entire galaxy. God, I could only imagine the ruins and ancient caches of technology and knowledge that he could personally lead me to!

                “Why am I going along with this?” Kela grumbled unhappily, eyeing the lightning storm that still raged in the next valley over, still preventing any and all who might make the attempt from approaching the Dark Temple by air, and making it nothing short of hazardous to try to do so on foot or in a ground transport. “Feels like the whole damn planet is going to come apart, and what am I doing? Following a couple of lunatics into an ancient Sith tomb with the express intention of meeting the ghost of the man buried there. Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that the tomb is in the Dark Temple, the entire area of which is supposed to be locked down by the planetary garrison!”

                “Come now, my Kela, haven’t you ever wanted to go on an adventure! Why, I remember that you and I used to be quite the intrepid explorers in our childhood, searching for all manner of buried treasure and secret artifacts on the grounds of the estate.” Nicky shot her childhood companion an encouraging and excited smile, receiving a distinctly unimpressed look in return.

                “Yes, we did. Then we got older, and I’ve since then seen more than enough holofilms to know exactly how this is going to go.” She responded dryly, flinching as a deep roll of thunder echoed nearby. “Sure, everything will seem fine at first, just another innocent adventure of discovery, but then the walls will start bleeding and the shadows will start following us…”

                “I’m sure it will be fine. Ves wouldn’t be bringing us here if she thought that it would be dangerous for us, she likes fucking us too much to risk a ghost tearing our skin off or whatever.” Nicky waved her concerns off blithely, looking thoroughly and entirely unconcerned with the prospect of the afore-mentioned skin-removal, looking down at her datapad before peering at the tombs embedded in the cliff-faces around us. Tombs that were, perhaps unsurprisingly, more numerous and larger-looking than they had been in the game. Pointing to one entrance in particular, she continued with a degree of middling confidence that made me somewhat nervous about her conclusions. “Pretty sure Lord Ergast is buried in that one. There aren’t any notes about getting through the inside of the tomb, though it does mention that there aren’t many traps.”

                “Because Lord Ergast wants people to come and learn how to perform Forcewalking. Since the process is fatal for anyone that fucks it up, he probably didn’t think that it was necessary to have much in the way of defenses.” I drawled, getting a frown from both of my lovers at the casual way I discussed my own potential demise. Then I frowned as well. “Though the bit about the planetary garrison is a good point. I have no idea how we’re supposed to sneak past them, the Temple is in a valley with little in the way of access if I recall correctly. The last thing I want is for the three of us to get shot or arrested…”

                “If I may?” a cultured voice murmured from nearby, and the three of us yipped in surprise, spinning to regard the man who had suddenly, silently, and without any of us detecting his presence with the Force or our physical senses. The reason why immediately became apparent, as a Chiss dressed in the equipment of Imperial Intelligence appeared out of what seemed to be nothing more than thin air. “Cipher 22, at your service, honored descendant of my master. I should be happy to guide you to the Lord’s estate.”

And then he bowed to me, bowed low and solemnly, and my breath caught in my chest as Nicky and Kela both reeled away from me, their expressions and their presences radiating the shock and confusion and even, yes, the fear that they suddenly felt.

                “Ves? Khai? What’s going on?” Nicky asked, sounding the closest thing to hurt that I had ever heard her, and I was trying to figure out what the hell to do next when the Cipher decided that he needed to answer the question on my behalf.

                “Were you not aware? You travel in the company of a daughter of the House of Kallig, an honored descendant and prospective heiress to the Grand Marshall of the Armies of the Most Holy Empire of the Sith, the Right Hand of Tulak Hord, Aloysious Kallig.” He sounded almost as if he was rebuking my companions, before turning back to me and bowing deeply. “Ah, forgive me, honored descendant, I did not realize your concubines were unaware of your heritage, or I would have remained silent.”

                “It’s fine. I suppose it is a secret that had to come out eventually. You said you would be able to guide us to my ancestor?” I responded quickly, radiating a silent, begging request for my companions to keep their mouths shut for the moment down my psychic links to them, and he gave a smaller bow in response. “Very well, lead on, at a distance that will give the three of us some manner of privacy. While your offer is generous and appropriate for one of my ancestor’s retainers, it does mean we three must speak sooner rather than later.”

There was some more bowing and murmuring before the man set off again, and I made sure to give him just enough space that he was still in sight but would be out of earshot before setting off after him. Or at least out of casual earshot, God only knew what kind of enhancements the man had, either internally or via his Intelligence equipment.

                “Vestara Khai…!” Nicky hissed before I could even open my mouth, and I winced. I hadn’t heard that particular tone of voice from the pureblood in quite some time. She really wasn’t happy with me, and I could hardly blame her for that.

                “Look, I was trying to keep this quiet because of your father and Zash, but yes, I’m actually descended from Lord Kallig, Tulak Hord’s closest friend, confidant, and general. He got too powerful, too popular, too talented, and Hord had him assassinated along with most of his House. The few survivors went into hiding, and here we are a few millenia later.” I delivered the information with, perhaps, more bluntness than was entirely necessary, and I could sense a spike of irritation from both girls, though both also radiate a very begrudging sense of understanding as well. Looking at Nicky, I continued. “And yes, he is a ghost. The problem is, when your brother breached the Temple, it woke him up, and right now he thinks he is still alive. People like that Cipher agent and all the other Sith and Imperials that have been sent to the Temple since are all totally under his sway. His kingdom and his servants restored to him.”

There were a lot of ways I expected her to respond. Anger, of course, that was already present. Confusion, bafflement, perhaps even instinctual rejection of the fact that her slave (even the slave she had been letting absolutely rail her for months) was actually someone whose blood was probably richer than her own. Perhaps even some manner of boasting, or an exclamation of how she had ‘always known’ that there was something special about me.

What I got instead was far, far more unnerving, because I was really quite sure that I saw tears in her eyes before she looked away, and it occurred to me that, despite her understanding that I wished to keep this knowledge away from her father and Zash, she was feeling rather hurt that I hadn’t told her any of them over the last several months. Which was…fair, honestly.

Man, I had probably fucked up a bit here, hadn’t I?

                “I should have told the two of you when we became lovers, instead of just owner and fellow slave.” I confessed heavily, getting a bitter and likely subconscious nod from Nicky, even as Kela frowned at me and stuck close to the pureblood’s side. How had it come to this, I wondered, that I was trying to comfort and apologize to someone that by all natural law and reason should be someone I hated?

Oh, right. I’d somehow ended up in the grasp of perhaps the only genuinely decent Sith Heiress on the entire planet (Lana not being an Sith heiress, technically) and then somehow fallen in love with her while trying to manipulate her for my own ends. Good job me, you’ll fit in so well with the Sith.

                “I am sorry, Nicky. I never expected we would grow as close as we have, emotionally and physically alike, and after that…well, quite frankly in your home I trust only you and Kela. I don’t trust the servants, the slaves, the guards, the walls, or anything else.” I acknowledged silently to myself that my apology, though heartfelt, probably left something to be desired given it contained a whole lot of me justifying myself, but I wanted her to understand my reasoning. “Can you imagine how hard Zash would work to get her hands on me if she found out about my heritage, given her plans? And your father, you think he wouldn’t want to perform unspeakable atrocities to see just how far he could push me once he knew? This is the first time we’ve been out of the mansion since the Temple opened, I couldn’t tell you before now.”

                “Were you going to tell me eventually?” she asked quietly, and I considered the question for a long moment before answering it as honestly as I could.

                “I intended for you and your family to find out about it eventually, yes. How that reveal would happen would have…varied, depending on several things.” I hedged, making the statement as gently as I could, not that it mattered given Nicky’s snort.

                “What you mean is, my father is a dead man walking, and the rest of us depended on how we treated you.” She translated sardonically, and I winced and tried to cast about for something reassuring to say. Likely sensing my discomfort and flickering thoughts, she swiped an irate hand through the air. “I don’t care about my father. He’s barely been present in my life, seeing me as little more than a tool to further his ambitions, and the things he did to you are monstrous. I thought them monstrous even before we became lovers. But if you have any regard for me at all, you won’t hurt my mother or little brother.”

                “I think the world of you and Kela, and of course I won’t do anything to your mother or your brother unless they try to attack us. The worst they have ever done was ignore me. Besides, I’m not a big believer in punishing people for circumstances that aren’t their fault.” I reassured her immediately and firmly, getting a searching look and a tentative nod in return. It wasn’t much, but I would take what I could get.

Further conversation was put on hold as we finally broke through the trees into the valley holding the Dark Temple, which loomed like a black mountain in the distance. It was enormous, that much I could tell even from here, easily surpassing the Great Pyramids in size, angrily roiling clouds clustered around it’s peak. God, even from here I could feel the immense weight of the Dark Side rolling off of it. It was physically tangible, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if we would literally be able to see it once we got closer.

 Rather more closely sat a small landspeeder, which the Cipher agent was now standing beside, patiently waiting for my attention. Once he saw he had it, he gave another bow and gestured to the transport invitingly. The implication was clear: we would be driven to the temple, rather than walking, and I really couldn’t find it in myself to regret that we wouldn’t have to cross several kilometers of ground on foot.

Of course, that also meant we would be confronting my ancestor very soon, and unlike in the game, this Aloysious Kallig was still locked in the memories of his past. We were going to be flying blind, now, and that was more terrifying than I had imagined.

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So, this is one of the weird things about SWTOR, where different people probably worked on lore for different quests, and didn’t necessarily talk to each other. Ergast is said to be the first Sith Lord buried on Dromund Kaas, and one of the first Sith ever. That the Dark Temple was build over Ergast’s tomb.

Yet Tulak Hord (and Kallig) predated Ergast by over three centuries, and Kallig is obviously buried on Dromund Kaas and in the Dark Temple, because you go into his tomb to retrieve the first relic required for the Transference Ritual.

So, yeah, Ergast’s tomb was built near Kallig’s tomb, and the Dark Temple was built over both of them. Only way to make it make sense.

Chapter Text

So, this is the second to last chapter of the opening arc, then we'll be on to Korriban and the game content proper!

Also being updated today is my plot bunny thread, so feel free to pop over to that and have a look!

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Ten

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"My Lord?"

The voice of his apprentice, the most valued and talented of every apprentice he had ever had at that (not that he would ever tell Corilla that. The Empire did not need more egoists.), drew Koret Solusar from his thoughts. His deep thoughts, deeper than he had realized if he had only been absently aware of her presence, in regards to the state of his beloved Empire and the dwindling number of Sith she had to defend her. Too many were dying due to rivalries and worthless spats, too few were surviving Korriban.

"My Lord, there is a report in regards to the Dark Temple, and Imperial Intelligence has forwarded a handful of reports in regards to Vestara Khai as well." She continued, once she saw that she had his full attention, and he arched an eyebrow behind his mask and lay down his flimsipen.

"Hmm. Good. The report from the Dark Temple?" he responded, expecting her to immediately hand over a hardcopy and launch into a verbal explanation, but to his surprise she shook her head with a slight frown.

"I think we should go over the Imperial Intelligence reports first, My Lord. They may prove significant to your evaluation of the information from the Dark Temple." She contradicted him directly, something that she did very rarely, and he adjusted himself slightly in his seat in interest and curiosity.

"Very well then, Corilla. Proceed." He allowed, and she dipped into a slight bow of acknowledgement and thanks before stepping forward and handing over a small sheaf of flimsies before taking a deep breath.

"The first report is from the day that the Dark Temple was opened by Tudalhiya Luwian. Asmu-Nikal Luwian has apparently long had a rivalry with the only child of a wealthy and influential merchant family, a girl by the name of Lana Beniko. It seems that Asmu-Nikal decided it was necessary to, well, show Vestara Khai off to her childhood rival. What is interesting is what happened after the fact…."

Koret read along as she talked, finding some small manner of amusement in the way that the two women (and he made note to examine this Beniko girl himself) had almost immediately started sniping at each other, only to promptly start fighting over Khai instead. Yet as amusing as that was, and interesting given later developments, what truly caught his attention was the lecture that the ostensible slave had delivered onto the pair of heiresses. She was a girl after his own heart, it seemed, venting her anger of the self-sabotage of their people and the need of the Sith to work in concert for the sake of their nation rather than at cross purposes for the sake of themselves.

Oh, and her apparent foresight as well. Perhaps it had been nothing more than coincidence (the reports all said that Khai's evaluation of Tudalhiya was wholly accurate, as did the manner of his death), but for her to be in the midst of delivering such a lecture the very instant the fool was in the midst of proving her right seemed too serendipitous for his tastes.

And then there was Zash's immediate interest in her, following her all the way from the slave markets and treating the Luwian girl with a brusqueness that bordered on rudeness in an effort to purchase Khai. A supplementary report noted that Zash, who had previously been at the slave markets several times daily (w ithout, the report noted, making any purchases), had not been seen visiting them since. Likewise, he recalled all too well how her efforts to get slaves sent to Korriban as acolytes had intensified since the Temple had been opened as well. Even proposing that, 'for the sake of the Empire and the Order', slaves could be claimed by eminent right and sent to Korriban over their owner's objections.

Koret did not ascribe events to coincidence as a matter of course, and certainly not in a circumstance such as this. He had lived a very long life, long enough to have some talent in 'connecting the dots', and it seemed very much to him that Zash had a particular and specific interest in Vestara Khai. The same woman of whom a simple picture had resulted in the Force nearly singing to him. The same woman that, per the recording of Asmu-Nikal, Lana Beniko, and Zash in Beniko's establishment, seemed to draw people towards her with little in the way of effort.

Vestara Khai might have been born a slave and have been touched by the darker arts of alchemical sorcery, but she was someone of significance. She was important, somehow, and based on what Corilla had said before starting this report, it had something to do with the Dark Temple. How directly, he didn't know (and he hoped to soon find out), but he trusted his senses. Honed by decades of fighting, surviving, and leading, he had learned to trust the Force and to trust his gut in equal measure.

"Unfortunately, there hasn't been much success in infiltrating the Luwian Estate itself. Following the events that resulted in his heir's death, Lord Luwian has more-or-less locked the estate down. No new slaves have been purchased, no new servants or soldiers have been hired, and guests are very few and far between. Likewise, few of the estate's inhabitants have left it's grounds since the Dark Temple was opened." Corilla finished, sounding aggravated by the continued failure of their subordinates, and Koret hummed softly in consideration. While he would normally opt for abandoning the long wait for an opening to present himself and instead create said opening, acting precipitously was for lesser men.

"Table the infiltration efforts for the time being. The Dark Temple?" he responded aloud, and his apprentice nodded in acquiescence before passing over a datapad, one with a grainy holorecording opened and ready for watching. Keying the device, he watched with increasing interest as an Imperial Intelligence Cipher (Cipher 22, according to the annotations beside the image) approached Asmu-Nikal, Vestara Khai, and the slave girl (Kela, he believed was the name) and greeted them respectfully. No, not just respectfully, with deference. Deference that was directed towards Khai. The recording cut off not long after, as the Chiss agent escorted the trio out of sight.

"Not long after that recording was made, an airspeeder with all four individuals was spotted flying towards the Dark Temple. You are, of course, aware that the storms have abated?" the question was a rhetorical one, but he confirmed it all the same, and she made a vague gesture of discontent. "It went entirely unchallenged so long as it was in sight. While interesting, that isn't what caused Intelligence to forward this report directly to you."

"Did they not forward it due to my instructions to monitor Khai and her companions?" he inquired, tilting his masked and hooded head slightly to the side as he considered her, and she grimaced slightly. Sensing the [Negation] that radiated out from her, his eyes narrowed. "Tell me the rest, girl."

"The image was poor, given a number of circumstances, but…" Corilla paused, taking a deep breath and visibly steadying herself for a verbal plunge. "Intelligence watched carefully, they think they were able to correctly identify at least part of the conversation. Cipher 22 identified Vestara Khai as 'an honored descendant and prospective heiress to the Grand Marshall of the Armies of the Most Holy Empire of the Sith, the Right Hand of Tulak Hord, Aloysious Kallig', My Lord. If My Lord would recall the reports from the archaeological expeditions to certain Sith tombs…?"

"You are implying that this Kallig is one of the many buried in the Dark Temple, and his Force Ghost was warped the minds of everyone who was on the grounds." Marr ground out, his temper flaring, his hands clenching slightly on the arms of his chair.

While studies into the ancients and their tombs was by no means a direct matter of his sphere (Ancient Knowledge was it's own Pyramid for a good reason), he had read far too many reports of entire archaeological teams and their protective military units being driven insane, possessed, mentally dominated, or any one of the myriad other disasters that tended to befall them in such places. He was hardly a sorcerer, despite his strength in the Force or his talent with Lightning, but he understood the mechanics of it: the tortured, malicious spirits of the ancient dead delivering their wrath upon those that disturbed their restless and eternal sleep. That such a thing could happen in the Dark Temple was unsurprising, and it was one reason that accessing that place had long been forbidden.

"How legitimate could these claims be?" Marr asked, rising to his feet and heading for the door, an absent flicked of his fingers summoning several pieces of equipment to his side from across the room, including his two backup lightsabers.

"We're not sure." Corilla admitted freely, falling in at his heels, sounding displeased with the admission as they started to make their way through the upper levels of the Ministry of Imperial Warfare, the sprawling complex dedicated entirely to the organization and operation of the Imperial Armed Forces. "There isn't much known about Lord Kallig, only that he did exist and that he did have a very high rank amongst the Sith of the era. Pro-Alien, very meritocratic. Described as Tulak Hord's closest ally and most dangerous rival. He and the vast majority of his House were wiped out on the Dark Lord's order. It's certainly more than possible that a surviving descendant of his would have ended up in slavery in the time since, and it would explain a few things about Khai."

Marr grunted in agreement. A House falling wasn't unusual by any stretch of the imagination, nor was it unusual for the survivors (or the descendants of survivors) of such Houses to find themselves enslaved. A final degradation by their conquerors. It wasn't even uncommon for fallen Houses to raise themselves up once again, taking revenge and reclaiming their place in the Empire through cunning and strength.

"Frankly, My Lord, if you hadn't ordered us to keep eyes on Khai and investigate her, this would have passed us by entirely. At best, we would have spotted them in the aircar approaching the Dark Temple, but I don't consider that likely. Even with the storms clearing away, we have few enough assets in the area." His apprentice informed him as they stepped out onto his private airpad, the sleek black form of his personal air-shuttle waiting for it's master to command it once more.

"Likely so." He responded, stepping up into the craft and settling himself in the pilot's seat to begin the start-up sequence. A rare act for a Dark Council member, but a common one with him. While he preferred to lead his troops from the ground, he was an accomplished pilot, and one that loathed to allow others to fly him anywhere that he could instead fly himself. The engines hummed to life with a throaty purr as Corilla slid into the seat beside him, looking somewhat nervous. Something he noticed, radiating the slightest amount of [Amusement] in her direction. "Worry not, apprentice, I've not yet crashed a ship without it being badly damaged beforehand."

From her expression, that was not the most reassuring statement in the world. Never the less, she opted against responding verbally and instead simply double checked that she was properly and securely strapped in. A statement that, though entirely nonverbal, nonetheless spoke volumes, and Marr felt his flicker of amusement grow. He had never had a child, he wasn't even sure it was possible for him any longer, after so many years of fighting and immersing himself in the Dark Side, but he was quite sure that he thought of Corilla as a daughter. He certainly favoured her over any of his previous apprentices, if nothing else.

"If you intend on going to the Dark Temple to confront them as they depart, can I at least request that we bring some infantry support?" she asks, looking resigned but unsurprised when he answered in the negative. She was used to him doing this sort of thing, after all. Darth Marr may not be a reckless fool, but he wasn't a particularly cautious or hesitant man either. All she could do was follow along and do her best to aid him as required.

The shuttle arced through the sky, making it's way towards the distant, vast bulk that loomed on the horizon.

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I was feeling many emotions as the air-car approached the entrance of the Dark Temple, the ground whipping by beneath us, the fallen pillars and statues swarming with laboring crews, their work songs in the language of our ancestors rising around us. Audible even at the speed that we were moving, easily so, and I couldn't help but feel awe, anticipation, even pride. Oh, there was some small manner of disgust and discomfort there as well. These men and women were not serving of their own free will, nor were they even in their right minds, but it was a sight to see all the same.

But of all the emotions I was currently feeling, there was one that (with very good reason) held the greatest prominence. One emotion that could be used to best describe me in this moment and at this time.

I was nervous.

I had no idea how to 'wake up' Kallig. After all, in the game's story he had only regained awareness the first time the Inquisitor had picked up a proper lightsaber on Korriban. Something that most certainly hadn't happened just yet. Perhaps I could cause some sort of cognitive dissonance, make things so uncanny for him that he was forced to realize what had happened? It was certainly an option, thought I don't know that it was a particularly good one.

In truth, my concern was for Kela and Asmu-Nikal. He would have no qualms about killing them if he thought that they had offended his House through me, and somehow I doubted that my pleading on their behalf would be terribly effective. Perhaps it would be, perhaps he would spare them in an effort to be generous or make me happy, but I wasn't prepared to bet on it.

"Honored Descendent, we've arrived." Cipher 22 voiced, somewhat unnecessarily, as the air-car settled down onto it's stubby landing struts directly before the door. Even as my companions and I began to adjust our weight to rise, a Sith apprentice approached and opened the door, his bald head low as he quite literally bowed us from the vehicle. Behind him waited a dozen Imperial Commandoes forming two columns, weapons held at port arms, bodies rigid and helmet-shrouded eyes facing dead ahead. At the far end of the column waited another Imperial, an officer, her blonde hair pulled up into a bun and her hands folded behind her back.

The invitation was an obvious one and I squared my shoulders before taking a deep breath and making my way down the plasteel corridor the soldiers formed, Asmu-Nikal and Kela following closely behind and doing their best to neither look nervous nor to make any moves that could possibly be defined as aggressive.

"Lady Kallig." The officer greeted me with a respectful and military-precise half-bow, glancing at my companions. "And companions. Second Lieutenant Kormika, at your service. I had the honor of being second-in-command to Lord Kallig's military advisor, Captain Malith, though I have been reassigned to act as your attache and liason with the rest of The House of Kallig for the duration of your visit to the estate."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. My companions, Asmu-Nikal of House Luwian, and Kela." I responded, delving into my admittedly-extensive experience roleplaying (across a number of mediums, and to a number of ends) as I gestured to the pair of women behind me. "I will be requesting a tour in good time, but at the moment it is imperative that I speak with my Patriarch immediately. Please escort me to him."

"Of course, milady." She bowed again, before turning on her heel and heading into the depths of the Temple, leaving the three of us to briefly exchange glances and follow.

Making our way through the Temple itself to Kallig's tomb was neither a simple nor speedy proposition. Though it had long been sealed and untouched, the Temple had still degraded over the centuries since it had been closed, and by the looks of it Tudalhiya had caused no small amount of damage during his efforts to breach the building.

And, of course, the building was enormous. Far larger than it had been in the game, unsurprisingly. Large enough that a Terminus-class destroyer could have docked in it, easily, with plenty of room to spare. It also consisted of nearly a dozen floors instead of a mere two or three, and the volume (and quality) of the statuary, engravings, reliefs, and other decorations that filled the space were nothing short of awe-inspiring. The amount of knowledge, and treasure, that had to be contained within these walls was beyond imagining.

Equally unlike the game, I quickly discovered, Kallig's tomb was not on the first floor of the Dark Temple. It was, in fact, beneath the Dark Temple. Buried beneath it's heart, accessible only via a staircase that had clearly once been hidden, for it was in the center of the base of the enormous Statue of Ancient Horror that dominated the Temple's center. We descended for what must have been a hundred feet, more than enough to take us beneath the Temple's foundations, and followed Lt. Kormika down the left hand corridor of a T-shaped intersection.

It didn't take long for us to find ourselves leaving the hall and stepping into a large arena (and it was an arena, with racks of ancient, finely wrought weapons lining the walls beneath murals and carvings of glory) surrounded by numerous other doors and alcoves. Yet as interesting as the training circle was, as interesting as all those ancient tools of war were, as interesting as all those flanking rooms were, there was something else that drew our attention.

At the head of the room sat a dais, standing perhaps a third of the room's total height and topped by an elaborate stone throne. It was beautiful in it's craftsmanship, truly the throne worth of a king…or a Lord of the Sith, and it was the shimmering, white-blue form of one such Lord that was sitting on the throne and waiting for them to approach. Kormika walked forward to the base of the dais before kneeling, head low in obeisance, and I watched his unmasked visage scan each of us slowly, searchingly.

"So, the daughter of my daughters has finally come home, seeking the wisdom of her kin." Kallig spoke, the words carrying such a weight that Kela's knees buckled, driving her to the floor as they resonated in her ears and soul alike. Nicky and I were only somewhat better, and I was proud to see that my lover's knees barely shook beneath the pressure of his presence and attention. Though that might have been because her joints, like mine, had locked up somewhere around the third or fourth word. I wasn't sure I could even move at this point, to be perfectly honest. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant. Remind your fellows that we are not to be disturbed unless you are summoned."

She rose silently and left with dignified, obedient haste, disappearing back down the hall, leaving us alone with a man whose power in the Force was such that, even dead and buried, he surpassed the whole of House Luwian combined within the Force. Only when the woman was gone did he rise from his throne and descend the stairs, bearing regal and pace sedate.

"Hmm. Tell me, daughter of my daughters, who is your mother? Who is your father?" he queried as he descended, and I quickly cast my memory back to the fragmented recollections I had of 'my' past prior to Luwian killing 'me'.

"My mother was Lahka, my father was Gavar. Both are dead now, and have been since I was an infant." I replied honestly, and he frowned as he stepped off of the dais and stood before me. He was handsome enough, with a well-kept beard framing strong cheekbones and long, nearly shoulder length dark hair pulled back in a series of braids.

"I do not recognize those names as members of my House, but then I did not recognize yours either. Yet despite that, it is obvious to me that you are kin to me, and I wonder how it is that both of these things can be true." He mused slowly, pacing around me slowly, examining me as he utterly ignored my companions. "And I find myself wondering at the scars in your presence and flesh, the indelible markers engraved on body and soul alike. What foolishness have you inflicted on yourself, Vestara? In what madness have you indulged so recklessly, endangering yourself and our House?"

                "She did not, My Lord. The marks she bares are there through no fault of her own." Nicky answered before I could think of an excuse, and my head whipped around as an expression of horror crossed my face, even as my ancestor turned to face her with a raised eyebrow. Meeting his eyes head-on, she held herself high and continued. "Vestara was born into slavery. Her father died in toil, and her mother died to the experiments of my father, Lord Luwian. She survived and grew, and was experimented on in turn. It is through his actions that she is as you see and sense her."

"Nicky…!" I barked, trying to silence her before she could continue, but she rolled on steadily without hesitating or even acknowledging me.

"Since my return from Korriban, she has been my personal slave, alongside Kela." She gestured to the wide eyed girl beside her, who was staring at the conversation going on above her with choppy breath echoing loudly against the stone.

"…you claim that one of my descendants is a slave? You claim to own a member of House Kallig? You claim to rule over one whose power far outstrips your own?" Aloysious nearly crooned the words, head tilting to the side as he regarded her much in the way a hawk might regard a field mouse. The softness of his tone did nothing to lessen the danger within it, and I swallowed convulsively in unison with Nicky, yet despite that she did not falter.

"By the laws of the Sith Empire, she is mine, as her parents were my father's." Nicky confirmed, and I had to wonder what the hell she thought she was doing. It was one thing to deflect my ancestor's wrath by informing him I wasn't the one who had mutilated my own body and soul, it was quite another to suicidally invite his wrath by going into greater detail.

"Were it not for the bond I can sense between the three of you, I would have killed you already for your impudence. Though I can appreciate why the daughter of my daughters has kept you at her side. You have courage and strength of spirit. Far more than the worthless whelp you once called brother." He said after a long moment, much to all of our surprise, and I sagged with relief with a shuddering breath as he turned away from her to face me once more. "You, child, will explain how it is that this came to be, for I can sense the honesty of your woman's words as clearly as I can sense her submission to you. Be warned, however, that her life hangs upon your words. No matter your connection to her nor her own charm and worthiness, I will tolerate no stain on the name of Kallig."

"Of course, ancestor. First, I will say that without Asmu-Nikal I would likely be dead. She has been a cherished friend and lover to me since we met, and has defied her father to teach me in the ways of the Force." I accepted, clearing my throat when he arched an eyebrow in response to the plea on her behalf. Clearly he wasn't interested in my wheedling or diplomacy, only the story, and my throat bobbed  with a heavy swallow. "I…this will sound like madness, My Lord, utter madness. I only ask that you let me finish explaining and offering prove before you do anything drastic."

"I will make no such promises, but so long as I can sense you speak forthrightly I am willing to indulge you." He intoned, which was not the most reassuring of responses but was a damn sight better than many of the others. Frankly, the fact that Nicky was still alive was surprising. Gratifying, but surprising.

"Alright then." I conceded, waiting half a heartbeat before taking the plunge. "You're dead. You died more than three thousand years ago. Killed during ambush organized by Tulak Hord, who feared your growing influence and power. The rest of our family was either slaughtered or scattered during the ensuing purges by Hord and our other rivals. Sometime since then, our family, or at least my branch of it, were enslaved. After your death, you were buried with honor in a vast tomb on Dromuund Kaas. Millenia after your death, the Sith Lord Tenebrae, now Vitiate, named himself Emperor of the Sith and built a massive tomb-complex for his defeated enemies, called the Dark Temple, over your tomb."

"That might have been a bit too blunt, Khai." Nicky groaned, running a hand through her hair and eyeing me with what could only be defined as aggravated exasperation. Which would have been fair, if she hadn't just spent a full minute trying to get herself killed by being a little bit too honest with the ghost of a powerful Sith Lord.

"Do not be absurd. I am no more dead than you are, and this is no more a tomb than…" Kallig started to scoff, sounding both disappointed and angry, his gaze beginning to turn towards Nicky with that I could only describe as fel intent, before he paused. A flicker of confusion creased his features, and I moved to capitalize on it.

"Please, ancestor, let me prove it to you. Nearby is the tomb of another ancient Lord, Ergast, who created a ritual that allows Force wielders to pacify, communicate, and draw strength from Force ghosts. If I master it, I will be able to clear your mind and, should I succeed in that, you can help me return our family to glory."

"Force-Walking, I presume, is the ritual of which you speak. Malith reported to me your interest in conversing with this Ergast in an effort to learn it." He responded after a long, long moment, folding his arms with a frown and drumming his fingers on his elbow. It was, somehow, an oddly human gesture from the spirit, and I was opening my mouth to respond when he grunted. "I can sense your honesty, which contradicts everything that I am aware of. Though…the existence of Force ghosts is not unknown to me. Very well. We will all go to visit this tomb you claim is near here."

"Thank you, ancestor. You won't regret this, I promise." I breathed a sigh of relief, and he regarded me with something very like paternal amusement.

"I should hope not. If you are correct, then I will have to take you firmly in hand to ensure you return our House to glory and are in every way an example of our station for the people to follow. If you are wrong, then I will have to take you even more firmly into hand so that I can correct the clear deficits in your behaviors."  He informed me gravely, and I resisted the urge to give a very childish groan as I realized that, either way, I was going to be in for an ancient Sith socio-cultural bootcamp. Biting back the urge, I turned back towards the hallway that would lead us to Ergast's tomb complex.

Force, I hope I didn't end up regretting this!

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Lord Kallig, despite his discontent and discomfort over the claims made by his descendant and her concubine (and the pureblood did belong to his descendant, no matter the legality of the situation. Their bond was quite clear, and it was equally clear she deferred to Vestara in every way that mattered), couldn't help but feel a degree of interest as he followed the three girls through the halls of his private wing. Interest, and exasperation. It was painfully obvious, now that he had met her, that his descendant had no notion of how to properly behave. Oh, she was putting on a fine show of behaving properly, but it was quite clear that it was in fact just that: a show.

She was a decent enough actress, but there was an artificial slant to it all. Not to say that she was trying to deceive him or manipulate him, necessarily, but more that she didn't have the natural awareness or proper training for society and was simply trying to emulate what she thought was the proper behavior. Something that unfortunately gave further weight and legitimacy to her words, much as he loathed the very idea.

Of course, the idea that Tulak Hord might have betrayed him and his family was hardly an outlandish one. He had achieved his own position at the man's right hand through usurping many others, and his old friend had grown increasingly paranoid as their lives and their wars dragged on. He had displayed an increasing unwillingness to heed sound advice or make the wisest of decisions, something that had forced the House of Kallig to pick up the slack more than once. A fact that, in hindsight, might not have been the most helpful way to soothe Hord's mistrust and suspicion.

Well, regardless of what was or was not true about both his supposed death and his family's fall from the heights of glory to the very gutter itself, he could see he had a great deal of work to do. His descendant carried no weapon, her movements were hardly fluid enough to indicate any substantial training, her presence in the Force was rough and chaotic, and her posture reeked of peasantry. If this was a Vestara after several months of training with the pureblood girl, he hardly wanted to imagine what she would have been like before said training began.

Retiring, clearly, was not an option. One way or another, he was going to be working hard for a long time yet, and if he wasn't in the presence of Vestara and her concubines he likely would have sighed tiredly. As it was, he allowed himself a near-silent huff and slow roll of his shoulders, absently wondering how it was he could (if he was, in fact, dead) feel so exhausted as he currently did.

They turned down another hall and entered a space quite similar to his own suite, though rather than a dais with a throne the room was dominated by an enormous, holocron-laden table, and he frowned ever-so-slightly at yet another piece of evidence that his beliefs on the situation were, perhaps, not entirely correct.

How vexing.

"Visitors?" a voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere, and Kallig's eyes narrowed as the Force swirled around them, thickening until it was quite literally visible as a twisting maelstrom of energy that finally coalesced into the shining blue-white figure of a human man dressed in simple armor.

"Lord Ergast, I am Vestara Khai, descendant of mighty Lord Kallig. I have come to master the ritual of Forcewalking, so that he can help me return our House to the glory that it once held." His descendant greeted the spirit with a low bow, her companions joining her (Kallig was momentarily quite miffed that he received no such respect. Family or not, showing due respect should be expected!), and the shimmering form arched an eyebrow and descended the steps to approach the group. Bypassing the three women, he came to stand before Kallig, examining him.

"Lord Kallig, it is truly an honor to meet you. When I had my tomb built so close to your own, it was due to the deep respect which I hold to you. It was your Ritual of the Echoes that inspired me to create Forcewalking, that I might speak with the dead directly rather than view their memories." He said with a small and genuine bow, and Aloysious blinked at him in surprise for a moment before smiling slightly.

"I am gratified to hear it. Tulak Hord was forever turning his nose up at that particular work. To know that it inspired some of those who followed us is pleasing. I suppose, then, that my descendant was telling the truth and I am truly dead?" he responded, and Ergast gave him what he would later swear was a sympathetic look.

"I am afraid so. You had been dead nearly four centuries by the time of my own life, though I am sure you will be happy to hear Tulak Hord did not long outlast you. His own apprentice fatally injured him, then fed him to a dashade." The other spirit informed him, and Kallig allowed those words to sink in for a long moment before smiling broadly in cold satisfaction.

"I warned him that Ortan Cela was not to be trusted. The brat was petty, cruel, and small-minded. How ironic, that he murdered the man he should have trusted above all others while trusting the man who would betray him without hesitation." He remarked, before glancing over at his descendant. "With the daughter of my daughters proven correct, then, I ask that you teach her this ritual. I must be capable of accompanying her, that our House might rise again. I can hardly rest once more if we have fallen so far."

                "I would be honored to do so. I believe that she shall prove talented in the art, though I'm afraid her concubine lacks the ability." Ergast agreed immediately, gesturing for Vestara to follow him as he turned and made his way back towards the holocrons. "Come, girl. Let us see how you measure up to your forebear."

Folding his hands behind his back, Kallig watched as his descendant took her first steps towards a greater future.

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Chapter Text

Crown of Slaves

Chapter Eleven

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Asmu-Nikal watched with her heart in her throat as Vestara meditated deeply under the direction of Lord Ergast himself, so deeply in fact that her presence in the force was a muted ember compared to the warm, fierce fire it was meant to be. She had been angry and bitter and, though she would never voice it aloud, depressed and hurt when she had so bluntly spoken to Lord Kallig when they had first stood before his throne.

Those emotions had faded quickly, replaced by fear. Fear for herself and fear for the woman she loved, the woman that she had decided long ago to support against her family’s wishes, to throw her lot in with someone who by all rights should have been used and discarded long ago, executed the moment she showed a taste for rebellion or individuality. Fear born of the fact that it was clear that neither Lord Ergast nor Lord Kallig were willing to tolerate incompetence, and Ergast had been quite clear that Vestara would die if she failed to master his teachings. Not because he would kill her for her failure, as one might assume, but because the process of learning Forcewalking was so dangerous.

What if Vestara died? The last thing that they had done was argue (justifiably, she reminded herself firmly) over the secrets that Vestara had been keeping from herself and Kela. The last words that they had truly exchanged, the last looks shared in relative privacy, had been those of anger and mistrust. It would…it would torture her if Vestara were to die with that as their last encounter.

                “Calm yourself, girl.” Kallig’s spirit intoned beside her, his arms folded over his chest and his expression intent but calm. Blinking, she turned to look over at him, eyebrows raising instinctually. Didn’t he realize that Vestara’s death would mean his family would lose it’s chance at returning to glory? His plans quashed before they could even begin? His legacy doomed to treachery-born obscurity? As if sensing her thoughts (and for all she knew, he could. His power far eclipsed anything that she had ever felt, and Force only knew what arts he had mastered in life), he turned to regard her in return. “My descendant is not so incapable as to feel this test, otherwise she would not have sought it out. Nor is she weak of will, which is the most important of factors with rituals such as this. So settle your soul and focus on your affections for the daughter of my daughters. Let her draw strength from it, let her have a focus and a goal to return to.”

                “Love is weak. Only the Jedi love.” She responded instantly, instinctually, the rote training since she had been through since the moment of her birth coming to the fore without any sort of conscious input on her part.

                “Ridiculous. Is this the sort of nonsense that they teach Sith on Korriban these days? By the Force, standards have fallen if that’s the case.” Kallig retorted immediately with a scoff, making a gesture that could only be called contemptuously dismissive with his right hand. “What separates the Sith from the Jedi is nothing so simple, so banal, as refusing to form emotional attachments. It was not uncommon in my era for the Jedi to have families as large and fruitful as our own, nor was it emotionless breeding.”

                “But the Jedi code? We learned it on Korriban, and they reject emotion…” Asmu-Nikal tried to protest, only to fall silent as he scoffed.

                “Do you mean that worthless fringe sect managed to take over the entire Order? Pathetic! Their ancestors and forbears would be ashamed of them! Rejecting emotion, rejecting passion, rejecting chaos! Fools! Rejecting the very fabric of what makes sentients sentient, rejecting a foundational concept of the galaxy itself! Arrogance and cowardice!” he grumbled, folding his arms over his chest and glowering at nothing and no one that was actually present. “Unable to regulate themselves, unable to properly control themselves and their emotions, they instead opt to pretend that they do not exist! They become brittle and break! Back in my day, the Jedi were wiser, braver, and stronger for it! Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force. This was the Code by which they lived.”

The differences were obvious to Asmu-Nikal, and she found herself intrigued. It seemed, at first blush, a very reasonable Code to be guided by. It acknowledged the existence of emotion, and ignorance, and passion. It acknowledged the things that made sentient creatures the unique, free-thinking creatures that they truly were. It acknowledged the true nature of the galaxy and all the beings that called it home, but it demanded and advised that those natures be controlled and overcome.

                “I…on the face of it, that seems a most reasonable code. More reasonable, perhaps, than our own.” She said slowly, thinking back to her conversation with Vestara in her private library, what seemed now to be a lifetime ago. “I once spoke at length with Vestara on the nature of the Force, what it means to be Jedi and to be Sith. She spoke of the Force being a neutral element of nature and nothing more, so far as morality is concerned.”

                “And she would be quite right. Does an avalanche or a super-nova possess morality? Of course they do not, they simply are.” He agreed immediately, taking on an almost lecturing tone, sounding very much like a Master speaking to an Apprentice. “Peace is a Lie, There is Only Passion. What does this line mean, child?”

                “It means that the Sith do not delude themselves into ignoring their emotion, into believing that internal peace is a benefit to the individual. Rather, we embrace our emotion and let it make us stronger. We fight with the fire of purpose, rather than the hollow resolve of the Jedi.” The answer, more or less the (literal) textbook answer from Korriban, spilled from her lips, and she knew immediately it was wrong simply from the expression on Kallig’s face.

                “Truly, Korriban has fallen far if you are their best and brightest.” He sighed, before waving a hand at her spike of indignation. “The fault is not yours, you are clearly competent and took to your training well. The flaw lies within your training itself, for it seems that the Sith have become just as dogmatic and close-minded as the Jedi of this age. Come, sit. The daughter of my daughters will be some time yet, and we must speak on this if you are to remain at her side. You, girl, come here as well.”

Kela, who had quietly been standing off to the side trying as hard as possible to avoid attracting the attention of either powerful Sith Lord’s spirit, startled with a soft eep of surprise before scurrying over to join them, even as Asmu-Nikal settled down onto the stone floor opposite Kallig.

                “The way of the Sith is the way of growth, of change and evolution. Of becoming more than we could otherwise be. Not becoming stronger, or more influential, or wealthier, as the current generations seem to believe. These are but end results of the true goal, the goal of changing oneself.”

                “Vestara said the same thing, once. She and Nicky were talking about the Force, and she complained that modern Sith view power as an end, rather than a means. She said…she said that ‘power without purpose is pointless’, that it was the reasons for gathering power was what really mattered.” Kela interjected, looking surprised at the words coming from her mouth, quailing slightly into Asmu-Nikal’s side as Kallig turned his gaze onto her, but he only nodded in satisfaction.

                “Than she is not so ignorant as I had feared she might be. She is wholly correct.” He said approvingly, before returning his attention to Asmu-Nikal. “The first tenet, as you know, states that ‘Peace is a Lie, there is only Passion’. Yet it is not the emotions of the self that this speaks to, but the actions, the nature, of the self. Peace is stagnancy. A world, a galaxy of utter peace is a world and galaxy that stands still. It does not grow, it does not adapt, it does not change. It simply exists, an eternal stasis. This is not natural. All living things require conflict to grow and survive. Those that fail, die, become extinct. Conflict is what drives evolution, invention, creativity. All the hallmarks of what make the living things of the galaxy living are rooted in conflict. All of the things that have driven the technological advancement of unified history were driven by conflict. The desire to go farther, faster. To be stronger, healthier, safer. To be more secure, capable, and live more luxurious lives. This is what it means to have Passion, to have a desire, rather than to be content with what is. With stagnation.”

                “Wanting to be more than what we are is what drives us forwards, what encourages us to attain the ability we need to achieve our goals. Physical strength, political power, wealth…they only matter and only have a purpose because they are what allows us to have what we truly need. At least, that’s how it is supposed to be.” The pureblood heiress said slowly, thoughtfully. “Without a challenge to strive for, there is nothing in life that makes it worth living. Without a goal to be met, what is the purpose in existing?”

                “Precisely. The rest of the Code is built upon this foundation, with the end result being that this adherence to the true nature of the galaxy, the neutral and immutable truths of The Force and creation themselves, will free us from the bonds that hold us. True slavery, such as what my descendant has suffered, overcome by cleverness and wisdom. The bonds of a fragile body, overcome by honing the mind. The bonds of poverty, overcome by the willingness to create or press through barriers. The bonds of low birth, overcome through talent, determination, and skill. The bonds of infertility, overcome through adoption and raising a legacy. Passion, young pureblood, the willingness to not accept that things ‘are the way that they are’, is what truly makes one strong. And when one is strong in this way, they are free, regardless of what circumstances might befall them.” He confirmed, sounding pleased with her response, hands folded in his lap as he considered her. “Life itself is passion, for what makes someone feel more alive than feeling? Yes, Sith master hate, anger, and rage most easily. Why would we not? They are powerful emotions, easy to grasp and easy to encounter. Is there not much in life that would bring anger from the depths of your heart? Yet the ease of grasping them, despite what the Jedi might say, does not make us weaker. Yes, adversity builds strength, this we have just established, but adversity for the sake of adversity is fruitless.”

Asmu-Nikal nodded hesitantly, wondering what he was getting at. It sounded self-contradictory, so far, in a way that she was sure would be considered heretical on Korriban, and it was confusing as well. Was Kallig’s closest friend, contemporary, and killer not known as the Lord of Hate? Did he not just say that challenges were necessary for growth? How then could adversity for the sake of adversity, which by it’s very nature would bring about that growth, be fruitless? Tentatively voicing those questions, she was gratified to see that his response was another pleased nod. Apparently, Kallig wasn’t interested in her unquestioning and blind agreement, but in her actually learning something.

                “Yes, Tulak was known as The Lord of Hate. Yes, adversity is necessary for growth. But there is a difference to be seen. Hate provides power, so long as it is controlled. Anger is the same. The way of the Sith is not to be ruled by our emotions, as your brother and those like him are. We embrace our emotions, but they are ours. They belong to us, are owned by us, are wielded by us. Let anger drive your blade, but do not let it guide it. Your emotions are your tools, you are not the tool of your emotions.” He explained seriously, looking at her intently, clearly wanting to make quite sure that she absorbed his words and the lesson within them. “Tulak Hord wielded his anger, his hate, like the saber in his hand, and in doing so conquered hundreds of worlds and laid waste to entire star systems. But his fear wielded him, and it cost him his closest ally and, finally, it cost him his life. Remember his example, because he chained himself, enslaved himself, to his fears. Tulak Hord, in the end, was no longer free. He left the Code behind, left his ability to grow and change and become stronger behind, and in his stagnancy became the growth of another.”

All Asmu-Nikal could do was nod silently, marveling over his words. There had been nothing like this on Korriban. Just rote memorization and education that, if she was willing to be honest, was more akin to indoctrination than anything else. Sith Philosophy was not something to be debated, not on Holy Korriban, only something to be laid down like an ironclad and above-reproach law. Debating it, if such a thing was ever permissible, lay solely in the purview of each Apprentice’s Master.

How different would the Empire be, she wondered, if it had been Aloysius Kallig and not Tulak Hord that had ruled?

A whorl of energy in the Force drew the attention of all three of them, the pulse powerful enough that even Kela, unable to wield it by any measure, could sense the change. Looking up to the dais where Vestara had been meditating, they saw that she was rising to her feet, wreathed in a visible, shifting cloak of Force energy. Ergast, standing across from her, had his arms crossed over his chest, a look and laugh of approval his response to her success. Kallig rose to his feet as she turned towards them, descending the stairs with the Force following in her wake like a bridal train.

                “I offer you a pact, grandfather, and a vow. Help me, guide me, and I will return our family to glory. I will become one of the greatest Force users in the history of the galaxy and I will rewrite history itself.” She promised as she raised a small ritual knife, one that she must have collected from within one of the tombs somehow, and brought it down across her palm.

                “Keep to that vow, and you will have me at your side so long as I am needed. The House of Kallig will rise again, greater and strong and more numerous than ever they once were, so long as you heed my words and ensure that your abilities march in lockstep with your ambitions. But I will be an exacting mentor, and there will be times where I will require that you stand on your own feet.” Kallig responded, a note of warning to his words, but Vestara hardly seems discouraged, only smiling and offering her bloody hand to her ancestor. He reached out towards her in turn, and the moment bloody flesh met intangible soul, the Force shook, and she was forced to shield her eyes from a blinding flash of light. It felt like standing in the eye of a hurricane, in the path of an avalanche, at the heart of an earthquake. The world, reality, seemed to have shifted in response to the freshly-forged pact, and she idly wondered what it had felt like for the rest of the planet.

                “Ah, now we’re talking.” Vestara practically purred from somewhere before her, as she tried to blink the bright spots out of her eyes, and when they faded, Asmu-Nikal inhaled sharply. Her lover was wreathed in shifting shadows, her skin shimmering with power, and her eyes…Asmu-Nikal could not even see her eyes, any longer, shrouded as they were in the bright and brilliant violet glow that seemed to consume the whole upper half of her face. Then it faded, leaving the former (and it really, truly, was former at this point, no matter what flimsiwork and records might say) slave looking no different, no worse for wear. Glancing back at Lord Ergast, she bowed deeply. “I thank you for your guidance and your assistance, Lord Ergast. When I have grown strong enough, and you were to desire it, I will return here and bind you as well, let you see how the galaxy has changed since your death.”

                “Survive, grow strong, and return, Vestara Khai. Forcewalker. Should you prove capable at that time, perhaps I shall accept your offer. It would be…interesting, I confess, to see all that the centuries have wrought.” Ergast responded, before waving a hand at the three of them. “Now, go. Return to the Tomb of your ancestor or leave this place entirely, I care not which, but I desire to return to my rest.”

Kela and Asmu-Nikal needed no prompting from Vestara to bow respectfully and depart quickly, and as they made their way through the corridors, as she sensed the changes within Vestara settling, like a pool of water calming after being disrupted by a pebble, she hoped that no ill would come of this.

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                “By the Force, what is going on down there?” Corilla growled in aggravation, looking hard out the window, as they flew over the vast grounds of the Dark Temple, and Marr couldn’t help but agree as he looked out his own.

The entire region had gone through quite the transformation. While it was still very much in ruins, the amount of restoration that had been done over the past weeks was nothing short of astonishing. Pillars and obelisks had been re-erected and cleaned, ancient statues and carvings had been uncovered and meticulously restored, even the roads themselves had been partially cleared off. Yet, as impressive as that was, it wasn’t what the two Sith were truly focused on. No, what they were focused on was the incredible number of sentients that were shambling around the partially-restored environment.

Even from this distance, he could see the jerkiness and awkwardness of their movements, sensed the almost tattered state of their presences in the Force, the way that they seemed almost as if…

                “Ah.” He breathed as an explanation presented itself to him, and Corilla glanced over at him with raised eyebrows. “If I were to guess, the mental domination that Imperial Intelligence believed was taking place has been removed. Look how aimless they’re behaving, how confused they seem to be. Sense them in The Force.”

He felt her reach out almost immediately, searching the men and women beneath them, inspecting them and scrutinizing their souls, and he felt her bafflement, understanding, and acceptance at and of the results. Neglecting to respond verbally, she simply nodded in silent confirmation of his words, agreement with his theory.

Of course, that left them with a serious and unanswered question. A series of serious and unanswered questions, actually: why had they been released, when had they been released, whom had they been controlled by and, perhaps most importantly of all, would they be controlled again?

The air car dipped heavily in the air as the Force pulsed. Not like the storm of violent, angry power that had erupted when the Dark Temple had been opened in the first place, but a change all the same. A significant change, if he were to wager, and he found himself accelerating to a greater speed with something akin to eagerness. Change was not something that had come to the Empire in a long, long time, to the Empire’s great detriment. Of course, this change might not be a good thing, a beneficial thing, for the Empire, and if that proved to be the case he would draw his blade once again. No matter how talented the Luwian girl was, no matter what bloodline Vestara Khai was apparently descended from, neither of them were even a match for his apprentice. Though fighting them together might prove an interesting experience for her. She was still struggling with fighting multiple opponents, after all. Perhaps something to consider for the future.

One shouldn’t ignore opportunity when it beckoned, after all.

                “That group seems to be doing better than the others.” Corilla suddenly commented aloud, and he glanced over, following her gaze to what seemed like a command center. A bit rougher than he would expect to see in the field, but under the circumstances and the environment, it seemed competent enough. She was right, the half-dozen men and women gathered there did seem to be far more cognizant than the other plodding, listless drones they had seen until now. A moment’s consideration was all that he required to bank their transport towards the camp, and he felt the spike of mingled fear, anticipation, dread, and relief from those below at the sight of what they doubtlessly hoped was some manner of leadership or reinforcements.

He felt a flicker of amusement as all four of those emotions increased sharply the moment he stepped out into the open air, his apprentice at his side. Yet it was the relief that grew the most, and he found that oddly gratifying. A mark of approval for his methods and his reputation, well-known was he for being a reasonable and forgiving man.

                “Darth Marr.” The highest-ranking man, a Captain, knelt respectfully alongside his subordinates, his gladness palpable in his voice. “Thank the Emperor that you are here. Captain Telomere Malith, Third Company, Second Battalion, Third Regiment of the Dromuund Kaas Garrison. My second-in-command, Celestra Kormika. Cipher 22, Imperial Intelligence. Hasufel Errod, Imperial Reclamation Service. Mora Beran, of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge. And finally, Dalmacus Scaiuth of the Imperial Ministry of History.”

                “Rise and report.” Was all the Dark Councillor said in response, though he gave an ever-so-slight head-tilt of acknowledgement to the group, folding his hands behind his back.

                “Yes, My Lord. Some time ago, as you are aware, the Dark Temple was breached by a group with unknown intentions, causing a significant disruption within the Force and the atmosphere. We were all deployed by our respective services to resecure the Temple and investigate the circumstances. However…” Malith obeyed promptly, beginning strong but faltering partway through, his expression taking on an almost haunted visage. Still, he proved he had metal in his spine, because he squared his shoulders and continued without encouragement. “However, when the Temple was breached, it awakened the spirit of an ancient Lord, a contemporary of Tulak Hord by the name of Aloysious Kallig. His power was…vast, My Lord. It overwhelmed us in an instant, and from that moment forward we were his devoted servants.”

                “The knowledge that entering his service imparted to us is significant, My Lord. It could very well redefine what we know of the early days of the Sith.” Thanaton’s subordinate said eagerly, her eyes bright with the love of knowledge and the hunger to discover more. “And did you see all the artifacts and relics that we uncovered? We never would have found some of them, if the knowledge he imparted upon us hadn’t shown us exactly where to look!”

                “He was a reasonable master as well, My Lord. There were several times we or others erred, disappointed or failed him. He did not punish us harshly, did not execute us or torture us. Only told us to do better, to learn and not fail again the next time. It was…a remarkable thing.” Kormika added, and Marr raised an eyebrow at the blatant admiration and appreciation in her tone. Despite being controlled down to her very soul by this long-dead man, she not only did not hate or fear him, but respected him? Fascinating, truly fascinating. “And his descendant, so briefly did I meet her, seemed much the same. I escorted them to Lord Kallig’s tomb myself, not a few hours ago.”

                “And how long ago did you regain your senses and control of yourselves?” Marr inquired, and there was a moment of silent, almost thoughtful confusion.

                “I am…unsure, My Lord. Though the control ceased immediately, there was a…lingering fog, for want of a better word. You may have witnessed some others suffering from the same effects, somewhat more seriously than ourselves, as you approached?” the Cipher spoke slowly as he answered the question at last, frowning as his pupilless crimson eyes shifted back and forth slightly in consideration. “I started keeping track an hour ago, but how much time passed before that I cannot say.”

                “Hmm, very well. Remain here, begin making contact with the groups scattered around the grounds, and begin compiling notes on everything that you can recall from your time under Lord Kallig’s control, including any knowledge that he imparted to you.” Marr ordered, turning towards the main entrance, before pausing and looking directly at Beran. “Ensure that nothing is held back or reserved for others, is that quite clear?”

They all nodded rapidly, assurances spilling from their lips, the Ancient Knowledge member looking particularly pale as she vowed her obedience. Satisfied, he continued on his way, Corilla at his heels.

                “Incredible. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” His wide-eyed apprentice breathed as they entered the main hall, her head swiveling to and fro as she tried to drink in all the sights at once. It was impressive, he had to agree, a feat of design and engineering that would be difficult to match even in the modern age. “Force, you could park a destroyer in here with room to spare!”

Marr hummed in amused agreement, feeling mildly amused. Most people, Sith included, wouldn’t use warships as measurements of space, but he did, and it seemed that doing so was one of the many things she had gotten from him via social osmosis. Oddly, that pleased him.

A faint grinding sound drew their attention, and both placed their hands on the hilts of their sabers as they saw a hidden door opening at the foot of a massive statue depicting an agonized being screaming skyward. A door through which Vestara Khai, Asmu-Nikal Luwian, the slave girl Kela…and a shimmering blue-white male figure emerged. They paused at seeing them, Asmu-Nikal and Kela freezing with wide eyes and fear both on their faces and within the Force, which was not unexpected. Yet Vestara Khai did not react in so reasonable away when confronted with a member of the Dark Council. Instead, she felt nervousness, excitement, and anticipation, and it was the last that interested him the most.

                “Well met, Lord Marr. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you at last.” She said with a smile, and the Force hummed as their eyes met.

                “Well met, Vestara Khai, and to Asmu-Nikal of House Luwian, and indeed well met to whom I can only assume is the spirit of Lord Aloysious Kallig.” He responded after a moment, moving his hand away from his weapon and striding forward again to stand a few feet away from the group, noting that he did not tower over Vestara Khai as he did so many others. Oh, he was still taller than her by a head, most certainly, but she was certainly closer to him in height than most. “I presume you are responsible for quelling Lord Kallig’s fury at the disturbance of the Temple?”

                “I am. At the guidance of Lord Ergast, I mastered the ritual of Forcewalking and formed a pact with my ancestor. He and I are bound together, now, and will remain so until he is satisfied with my performance as his heir and the resurrection of our House.” She confirmed almost bluntly, foolishly so given whom she was speaking with, an impression that Lord Kallig seemed to share given the fact that he gently cuffed her across the head.

                “Whatever visions you might have had, daughter of my daughters, do not so bluntly speak to a superior whom you are not personally familiar with.” He chastised her, sounding almost amused, as she rubbed her head in response to the blow with what Marr would swear was a small pout on her lips, though it vanished before he could be sure. “He is a Dark Lord of the Sith, and you stand in a place that was forbidden to you. Boast less, child.”

                “Yes, grandfather.” The girl grumbled, though she shied away as the man raised his eyebrow at her tone. Straightening up and clearing her throat, she bowed respectfully. “Forgive my casual behavior, Lord Marr. I sometimes forget that the things I have foreseen have not yet come to pass, and that the relationships therein have not yet been forged. Asmu-Nikal would happily agree that it makes me speak rather more freely than I ought.”

From the look on her face, the Luwian girl would have agreed loudly and energetically with that particular claim, but that was not a matter of importance to him at the moment. What was of importance to him was what had just been said.

                “You are particularly gifted with foresight, then?” he asked, and she nodded in confirmation, preening slightly with pride.

                “I am. I have seen events both great and small for years to come, My Lord. Some in my youth, some when the Head of House Luwian killed me with his experiments, and some since. More than enough to know the pasts and futures of yourself and Darth Lachris, and more than enough to know that the Empire is in dire straits.” She responded, and it was only Marr’s quick reactions and familiarity with his apprentice that allowed him to stop Corilla from drawing her saber and killing the girl.

This time, it was both Asmu-Nikal and Kallig that cuffed her.

                “That tongue of yours is going to get you killed, Khai!” Luwian growled in aggravation, even as her slave girl (ignored thus far, and looking quite pleased for that fact) rubbed her face with both hands tiredly in agreement, though she spared her mistress with a frown as the pureblood continued. “I thought that Kela was fond of being honest to the point of bluntness, but you certainly seem to take the prize.”

                “How do you know the name my apprentice desires to take up upon her promotion? What future do you claim to have seen for her?” Marr asked, leaving his own future to the side for the moment to focus on the knowledge that would have required either an extraordinary spying effort or genuine and powerful foresight to know.

                “In a year or so from now, sometime after I finish training on Korriban, you assign her to take Balmorra into hand, which she does with my help when we deal with the Resistance and their ‘AWOL’,” the sarcasm in her voice as she spoke the acronym was palpable. “Republican Army friends under Cheketta in the Balmorran Arms Factory. Unfortunately, some time after that, she is killed by a Jedi Consular, one named Barsen’thor by Grand Master Shan herself. Something I would prefer to avoid, by the way, for more than one reason.”

She was speaking the absolute truth, so far as she knew it, and the two Sith before her found themselves rocked back on their heels. The fact that he would send his apprentice to take care of Balmorra, which was quickly becoming a bloody tarpit for the Imperial Armed Forces, was not surprising in the least. He had plenty of faith in her abilities, and dealing with Republic-backed rebels was well within her skillset, yet would prove enough of a challenge that she would be forced to grow as a Sith, a strategist, and an administrator. Yet, according to this woman, she would be killed by a powerful Jedi not long after succeeding.

                “We will discuss this further in a more secure location.” He decreed firmly, heads dipping in confirmation of his command, before he turned his attention to the observing Force Ghost. “And how do you intend to act next, Lord Kallig, in guiding your descendant forward?”

                “Quite simple, really, though I’m afraid it may make a sizeable mess for young Asmu-Nikal to clear up.” He answered readily, calmly. “I will accompany the daughter of my daughters back to the estate in which these three reside. I will then slaughter the man who killed and harmed the members of my House and anyone else who gets in my way and ensure that my child’s concubine properly ascends to rule House Luwian.”

Bluntness, it seemed, was a familial trait. Though, in fairness, Lord Kallig was both dead and incredibly powerful. He could get away with being painfully, dangerously blunt and honest with those around him.

                “Then we shall hold our conversations within the Estate of House Luwian once you have taken your revenge.” He very nearly sighed, feeling Corilla’s bafflement and confusion at his easy agreement and allowance of a noble house and their servants being harshly pruned by an angry ghost.

She would learn that much of being a Sith was accepting things as they came and working with them, rather than raging in futility against them.

Besides, trading one Lord amongst thousands for the boons Vestara Khai and her undead ancestor could provide was a calculus he was more than willing to commit.

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The Estate of House Luwian was not quiet many days, with far too many people and activities being performed in too many parts of it for that to be possible, but today it was far louder than usual. A half dozen guardsmen, and nearly twice as many slaves, had already died beneath the wrath of the House’s Lord, who raged at the absence of his now-eldest child and her slaves. Raged because he had, somehow, learned that they had approached the Dark Temple. Broken the territorial embargo put firmly in place by the Dark Council, broken his own commands.

                “If she brings further attention upon this House with this folly, so soon after her brother’s stupidity, you will find yourself attending my chambers more often to ensure Asmi-Sarruma is not my only heir.” He hissed at his wife, who was standing with all the stoic regality of her station and nature to the far side of his audience hall, their youngest child standing before her with her hands on his shoulders.

                “I would be careful about suggesting that you intend harm to one of my children, husband, and even more so about attempting to dictate my presence in your chamber or any other.” She returned, ice-cold and expressionless as she met his eyes, a dark promise lurking within them, and (though he disguised it with a sneer and a look back towards the main door) he couldn’t restrain the shudder that went through him body and soul. His wife did not often go against him or interfere in any of his matters, and he sometimes found himself forgetting that she was the warrior between the two of them. She was the one that had stood on the scorched fields of Alderaan, had commanded a ship in the campaign to retake Holy Korriban, had put down slave rebellions and met Jedi in the open field.

He scowled to himself for that shudder, that acknowledgement that things would not end well for him if it came down to a duel between himself and his wife, and plotted (not for the first time) to reaffirm his command and control over her and the rest of his House. To make her suffer for her impertinence and learn proper behavior for her position.

A guardsman burst into the room, throwing himself into a kow-tow and bowing his head repeatedly in a desperate attempt to stave off the fatal punishment his master was no doubt preparing to unleash.

                “My Lord, Lady Asmu-Nikal has returned, along with her slaves, but that’s not all! Lord Marr of the Dark Council, and his apprentice, are with them! They are approaching as we speak!” he cried out, and all thought of punishing the man fled his mind as his heart leapt into his throat, his lungs seizing in his chest.

He didn’t have time to do anything, to issue any commands, to act, to speak, even to think, before his wayward daughter, her toys, and his esteemed guest entered the room together. He rose to his feet, a broad and welcoming smile on his face as he, his wife, and his youngest child bowed respectfully, as the group crossed the space between them.

                “My Lord Marr, it is a pleasure to welcome you and your apprentice into my estate! To what do I owe this pleasure, this honor and privilege?” he asked, before snapping his fingers at his daughter’s toy and his experiment. “You, slaves, retrieve chairs and refreshments for our honored guests.”

                “That will not be necessary, Kiriath.” Marr intoned, folding his hands behind his back and staring at him with an impassivity that was physical and spiritual alike. In fact, the Dark Councillor was regarding him very much like he so often regarded the results of his experiments, and a sick feeling began to coil in his gut. “I have no business with you and, it seems, I shall never have business with you.”

Arunwanda had only a moment to open his mouth, confused and uncertain, before the eyes of his experiment shown with white-violet energy. An amorphous shape, glowing blue and white and floating like a mist in the air, formed beside her and began to approach him. The closer it got, the more defined a shape it took, until before him stood the shining form of a man. A sith lord.

                “So…you are the one that has caused such great harm to my family. To my daughters, to the daughters of my daughters. You are the one that tortured them body and soul, maiming them in flesh and Force alike.” The spirit mused, looking him up and down, before glancing around the room. “Leave, all of you, and take the woman and child with you. The House of Kallig has a blood-debt to claim, and I mean to begin here and now.”

The room emptied rapidly, Arunwanda backing away from the apparition and hurling a blast of lightning at it even as he bellowed into his comm-link for the guards. None of which mattered in the least to the spirit, who gazed at him with mingled amusement, contempt, and fell intent.

                “You consider yourself a scientist, is that not so? Testing the boundaries of what can be endured before one expires. Well then. Let us conduct an experiment together, you and I.”

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Chapter Text

Finally, as always, read, enjoy, comment, and update the  TV Tropes  page!

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Twelve

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Imperial Shuttle

Korriban Low Orbit

One Month Later

"Hey, you. Looks like you're finally awake." a soft feminine voice said from across the way, and I gave a rough chuckle as I opened my eyes with a small smile.

"Skyrim, really? Really? Even here and now, after all of this, I can't escape that joke…" I sighed in resigned amusement, smiling at the slender, bruised redhead sitting across from me with a training vibrosword on her back. The shuttle was cool, unsurprisingly, its stark black-grey bulkheads (emblazoned with a crimson Imperial sigil, naturally) seeming to absorb all of the paltry light generated from the ceiling nodes.

"Sky-rim? I've never heard of that world, I'm actually from Jabiim?" Kory, the sith acolyte that was too damn much of a cinnamon roll to survive Korriban, gazed at me in rather cute bafflement. Poor girl had to know what her fate inevitably was, but she had been kind and encouraging in the short time the Sith Inquisitor knew her and never tried to run or hide.

"I'll tell you again sometime." I murmured, looking around the shuttle, taking in my surroundings as my brain continued coming on line, rolling my head on my shoulders and grimacing at the stiffness there. As glad as I was to finally, finally, be starting the 'proper' content of the game and really start being able to make changes (though God only knew what would happen with Marr and Lachris after an extensive conversation while my ancestor dealt with Luwian), I was anxious. Somehow I doubted it would be as easy to survive as it had been in the game, and I would have to avoid making enemies I couldn't afford to make either.

Not to mention the titanic, looming threat of Zakuul. Hell, right about now Vaylin was probably in the middle of being tortured and Force-maimed into insanity on Nathema, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

Yet.

I groaned again, rubbing my forehead in deep-seated and rapidly-developed mental and emotional exhaustion. I had spent two years planning, and still it felt like nothing had been done at all, nothing had been accomplished.

It still felt like I wasn't ready.

"Don't worry, friend, if anyone on this shuttle will be fine, it will be you." Kory told me reassuringly, thinking it was the stress of our imminent landing getting to me, which was admittedly a factor, if only because it had to happen to lead to the real problems. "Ah, I heard some of the others talking about you while you were asleep. Is it true that Darth Marr himself found you and decided to send you to Korriban?"

"Yeah…" I responded slowly, wondering if talking about it would make it seem like I was a problem student and piss Marr off. Then it occurred to me that I was probably already considered a problem student, and Marr had sent me here anyway. Might as well make my mark on the group and enhance my reputation while I had the opportunity. "Yeah, I led a slave revolt on Dromuund Kaas, guess I impressed him enough that he decided not to kill me right away, after he put it down. So, here I am."

Which wasn't technically true, but Marr had decided (and I happened to agree quite strongly) that telling everyone the bound ghost of my ancient and powerful ancestor had slaughtered my old owner and dozens of his guardsmen as punishment for what had been done to my parents and myself was, perhaps, a foolish idea. And I had performed a few actions that had resulted in quite a few slaves being freed and/or escaping into the wilds of Dromuund Kaas.

"Amazing…" Kory breathed, staring at me with bright amber eyes, while the other acolytes around us shifted and muttered, doubtlessly having overheard the confirmation of at least some of the stories that they had heard. They were probably considering the best way to get rid of me early, no doubt, but I didn't care about that. What I did care about was that the awe that the aforementioned cinnamon roll was looking at me with, and the fact that her cute pink lips were parted enough to look very inviting, which was making my cock harden in my pants.

The sound of a disgusted scoff drew my attention to the seat in Kory's row that was closest to the hatch, and we both looked over to see the hooded and robed form of a crimson-eyed male Sith Pureblood.

"Absurdity, pure absurdity, invented to make yourself seem like something more than a worthless slave. Perhaps Lord Marr will reward me when Lord Zash and I present him your head and tell him your ridiculous story." The man who could only be Ffon Althe sneered, and my eyes widened slightly as I sensed his presence in the Force. The game had made it fairly clear that he wasn't a pushover, Zash had even said that 'In any other group for any other Lord, this young man would have torn the other acolytes to shreds', and he had killed the other acolytes and completed the trials with profound ease. What I was feeling now only reinforced that, only made it clear that this young man was well on his way to being equal to Tudalhiya had been already, despite not yet completing his trials. Still, I steadied myself with a deep breath. Fate was on my side, after all. So long as I could survive the trials, I was essentially guaranteed to be chosen thanks to Zash's prophetic dreams. Speaking of which…

"Ffon Althe…" I let his name slip of my tongue, low and sensuous as I slowly looked him up and down. "Sith Pureblood from a long and storied line, powerful and well-trained from birth by his dynasty to ensure his victory on sacred Korriban."

He stared at me in surprise, and I would have wagered he was stuck between shock that I knew who he was, or arrogant belief that his name was already known even amongst the slaves of Dromuund Kaas. I couldn't help but smirk as the murmurs around us grew, and I continued even as I relished the feeling of power that appearing prophetic gave me.

"Doomed to die on the final day of our trials, the victim of one foolish overseer's obsession with preserving the 'purity' of the Sith hierarchy. You should beg for Lord Zash's mercy the moment we land, Ffon, and denounce Harkun as a fool. It's your only chance for survival, for changing your fate."

"Oh, and how would you know all of that, slave? You might have some talent in the Force, I can sense that. You are certainly above the rest of this lot, even if you are nothing compared to me. Even still, such foresight would surely be beyond your meagre abilities." His arrogance was shaken, any fool could tell that, even without the Force, but it was shaken only.

"Simple, Ffon. I paid attention to what the Imperials said when we were all waiting to get put on this shuttle, unlike you, who spent more time focusing on getting into the female pilot's panties. Good taste, by the way, she was cute." I snickered, and rolled my eyes as he growled and raised one slightly-sparking hand threateningly. "Oh, by the Force, calm down. I was giving you a compliment, you scarlet-skinned psychopath. The point is, Lord Zash specifically demanded that all the acolytes in her selection pool be slaves, for whatever reason. Now, what do you think is going to happen to you when she finds out that you aren't?"

He could clearly imagine exactly what a Sith Lord would do in such a situation, and judging by the way he swallowed he wasn't enjoying the mental picture his mind was putting on display. Good. If I could get him out of the way, potentially incurring a life-debt from him in the meantime, my life would be a lot easier.

None of us mentioned the unreasonableness of Ffon being punished for Harkun's decision to stick him in the pool without warning him about Zash's wishes. He would be a mere acolyte, even if one from a dynasty, that had the ire of a mantled Sith Lord directed against him. That the blade would fall on his neck rather than Harkun's practically went without saying.

With him distracted by such grim thoughts, I turned my focus back to Kory, whose awe was now shared with uncertainty and no small amount of fear. Clearly, she wasn't feeling quite so sure about me any longer. Well, I would need to assuage her fears. I had always wished that there was a way to save her life in the game, and I intended to do it however I could now that she was real.

"You're Kory, right?" I asked, though the question wasn't in truth a question, and my tone made that clear. She nodded mutely, the Fear I could sense on her growing, and I gave her my most reassuring smile. "My name is Vestara Khai, and I'm going to make you mine. I'll keep you alive during the trials, and in return you will stay at my side and serve me. You get to keep breathing and live in peaceful comfort as the well-treated pet of a future Dark Council member, and I get your companionship for the rest of our natural lives. A fair trade, wouldn't you say?"

She blushed darkly, a rather fetching look on her pale complexion, before shaking her head with a half-laugh, half-sigh of discomfort.

"We're on our way to Korriban to be trained as Sith, enduring Force knows what horrors, and you're focused on getting into my panties. Are you sure you and Ffon really all that different, Vestara?" she asked wryly, leaning back in her seat and folding her arms under her breasts, pushing them up even as she seemed to hug herself.

"Of course we are! I'm prettier than he is, for one thing, and unlike he and his Imperial playmate from earlier, I actually intend to keep you around longer than five minutes. Not least of which because I can last at least fifteen." I respond, feigning offence with a wicked grin and a taunting wink thrown in the Pureblood's direction, getting an amusingly undignified squawk of protest from the man whose virility I had just called into such severe question. I pause for a moment, feigning a look of thought, before tapping my chin consideringly. "My cock is probably bigger than his too. Sith women are pretty small, as a general rule, so I bet that the men have tiny cocks to match them. Would certainly go a long way to explaining some of their attitude issues, really. You know what they say about men with small dicks…"

"I'm going to kill you, Khai!" the man in question snarled furiously, glaring at me even as the rest of the compartment chuckled, and I waved him off lazily.

"Oh, calm yourself, it's not a fair comparison anyway. My cock is formed by the glories of expertly-done Sith Alchemy, you can't compare a natural man to my splendid, supernaturally shaped shaft." I 'reassure' him. He snarls again, rising to his feet and stalking over towards the door, clearly intent on waiting for us to land in silent solitude. Sighing, I patted Kory on the cheek (taking care to brush my thumb across her lips with another wink) before standing and moving over to join him. "Ffon."

He ignored me, of course, which was hardly surprising. No man liked having their manhood called into question, certainly not in front of peers (especially peers you considered beneath you), and certainly not by a woman who had just predicted your imminent, disgraceful demise.

"Ffon, come on." I tried again, and he waved a hand at me over his shoulder, Irritation and Offense radiating off of him like a billowing cloud of smoke. Grabbing his shoulder, I pulled him to face me.

"How dare you…!" he snarled, smacking my arm aside with an outraged hiss as his off-hand began to spark again, but I met his eyes and refused to back down despite the threat of attempted electrocution.

"Ffon, that was unkind of me, I admit, and untrue at that. Force knows I saw how that cute little thing was limping after you finished with her, and I've seen enough freshly-fucked women to know when it's legitimate. You fucked her hard and deep. But I had to jest with you, Ffon. I needed to break the tension, get everyone's minds off what's coming." I told him firmly, if quietly, and he glanced over my shoulder to where the other acolytes were now chatting somewhat amiably, the twin brothers gently teasing a flustered Kory over my words to her.

"You wanted to flirt with that redhaired slave so you can fuck her, Khai, be honest about that if nothing else." He responded brusquely with an eye roll that was not in the least elegant or refined, and I shrugged and nodded slightly in agreement, because honestly, he was right in part. Still, at least he was willing to talk, if only for the moment.

"Okay, yes, I want Kory, and I intend to have her. But the other Acolytes needed to loosen up, Ffon." I respond, and he scoffs, looking at me and shaking his head in something akin to bewilderment.

"They're all doomed, Khai, and you know that. I know you know that. I can sense your resignation when you look at them." He responds, eyes narrowing slightly, and I grimace in response, because he was right again. I could probably save Kory, and if Ffon took my advice and things went well he would survive too, but the rest of them…the best they could hope for was to hide in the tombs and eventually make their way off-world after selling themselves to the tomb raiders as enforcers. "Besides, sentimentality has no place whatsoever amongst the Sith. Is your jesting, is their laughter, going to help them survive? Is it going to help them pass their trials and become Sith? Is it going to make them capable of besting either of us?"

I shook my head mutely, and he gave a single sharp nod in satisfaction as the ship settled onto what could only be one of the Academy's landing pads with a jolt. All conversation behind me halted, the tension you had worked to dissipate reborn in an instant, and as the hatch hissed open Ffon gave me one last look.

"You may well have saved my life, should you turn out to be correct, so listen to me now. Advice for advice, Khai: abandon the other acolytes to their fates and look to your own life, your own future. You will not survive amongst the Sith, never mind achieve the lofty heights you boldly proclaim to seek, if you keep hold of this crippling emotionality of yours. Despite your worthless origin, you might actually amount to something. Do not squander it, not on the likes of them." He said softly, almost kindly, before heading down the ramp. I watched him go, the others filing past silently, until Kory stood beside me.

"We all knew what we were getting into when we found out we were getting sent to Korriban, Vestara." she said softly, sounding rather like she was trying to reassure me, and I sighed before slinging an arm around her.

"Maybe so, but I meant what I said. I've taken a liking to you, Kory. You don't have the cruelty to be Sith, or the deceptiveness to disguise compassion as pragmatism, but I won't let you die. I intend to keep you breathing, and in my company, long after we finish here." I told her firmly, though the seriousness of the moment was likely spoiled by my next move, as I slid my hand down towards her ass. Sighing in exasperation, though with a tint of amusement, she rolled her eyes before pushing my hand away and heading down the ramp. I was pleased to notice there was an extra sway to her hips despite her apparent rejection.

"If you want to touch this ass, you have to save it first, Khai!" she called over her shoulder, and I chortled in amused agreement as I followed her down the platform towards where Harkun and the other acolytes were waiting. Ffon, I could see, was already gone. Harkun couldn't even let his pet meet Spindrall with the rest of us. Force, I hoped Ffon took my advice. He was a prick, but I was willing to try and turn him around, and he certainly didn't deserve to die because Harkun thought he could ignore the express wishes of the Lord he was preparing us for.

If nothing else, having Ffon owe me could prove handy later on, for any number of reasons.

"Finally, the last two arrive. You vermin can't even manage to walk in a straight line in a timely manner, and they think you're going to become Sith. Pathetic. I do hope neither of you are under the impression that you will be able to simply skip these trials and elevate yourselves out of the muck, no matter who recommended your entrance." The goateed Overseer was oozing Contempt, and I felt my mouth spread in an amused grin at the obvious jab at myself. He looked over the rest of the group, eyes lingering on Kory's mouse-like demeanor, and his own mouth twisted in disgust as he continued. "Lord Zash has tasked me with sorting through you wretched refuse to find one worthy of being her apprentice, and I intend to do just that. As impossible as the task currently seems."

"Please, Overseer, don't get sentimental with us. We've only just met." I crooned, grin widening as he scowled at me with a look of absolute disdain.

"I assure you that I will not." He responded, entirely unamused, before addressing the group as a whole. "Your first trial is this: in the Valley of the Dark Lords lies the Tomb of Ajunta Pall, not that you worthless scum even know who that is…"

"The first Dark Lord of the Sith, founder of the First Sith Empire. Worshipped as a god by the ancient members of the Sith race." I cut him off without an ounce of regret, feeling no small amount of delight as he gritted his teeth in anger at both the interruption and the lack of ignorance on my part. Honestly, fucking with Harkun was more fun that I could have imagined. He couldn't kill me unless I failed a trial or broke one of the Academy's cardinal rules, which meant I could fuck with him as much as I damn well pleased.

"Correct, now be silent. Within his Tomb is an old hermit named Spindrall. The man is a reclusive lunatic, but his evaluation of acolytes is, inexplicably, highly prized by the other Overseers and most of the Lords of the Empire. Each of you is to fight your way through the Tomb, past the k'lor slugs that infest it, and present yourselves for his evaluation. Those of you who survive will make your way to the Academy proper for the next step in your training. Those of you that do not will have your flayed, devoured corpses serve as an example to the next batch of fools who imagine themselves Sith. Now, go."

I gave a bow that bordered on insolence as the others started off, and I was immensely pleased to see that while Kory had left the platform itself, she was waiting for me just around the corner, hands folded behind her back as she stood at ease, and I patted her cheek as I passed.

"Good girl, waiting patiently for me already. You are a diamond in the rough, sweet Kory." I told her airily as she fell in at my shoulder, and I could feel the eye roll as she responded.

"First trial now, preening about your imminent conquest later. You already said I don't have the cruelty or the cunning to survive the trials alone, and I happen to agree with you. I knew that I was going to die when they pulled me from the slave pens. I was fine with that, I would have been free of slavery if nothing else." She said honestly, if a bit briskly, and I made a note to try and do something about that death-seeking desire of hers. "So, that being the case, you have to keep me alive if you want me keeping your bed warm and your cock wet. So, what's the plan?"

"Well, at first I considered simply hiding you in the tombs until I left, then taking you to safety that way. However, I wouldn't be able to protect you properly like that, and that's not acceptable to me. Then, I considered hiring some of the tomb raiders here on the planet to evacuate you for a later rendezvous. However, being the sort of folks that they are, I wouldn't be surprised in the least if they took my credits, then promptly raped you into a drooling mess and dumped you out the airlock, if they even bothered taking you off-planet." I told her, and I could feel her shudder through the Force at the idea. She might be comfortable enough with the idea of being my pet and plaything, but that was probably because I had promised to protect her in return rather than just raping her oblivion and leaving her to the k'lor slugs. The mere possibility that I might keep my word, as questionable a foundation as that might seem on its face, inherently made me more trustworthy than the dangers within the tombs.

"Yes, well, since we agree that hiding in the acolyte and monster-filled tombs isn't viable, and trusting a bunch of people insane enough to try and rob the tombs of ancient Sith Lords under the very noses of the Sith Academy is an even worse idea, what's the plan?" she nearly bit out the words, and I gave her an apologetic look in response.

"I happen to know that there are several other tasks in the immediate vicinity of the Tomb of Ajunta Pall that we can complete. We do those, make sure the people we help send glowing messages in support of our worthiness to the Overseers, then we talk to Spindrall. I impress upon him that you are very valuable to me, and see what happens next." I explained calmly, and she frowned in thought as she looked at me, her crimson-clad head tilting slightly at the edge of my vision.

"Are you…can you…that is, do you see the future, Vestara? I mean, with what you said to Ffon, and now this…" she asked tentatively after a moment, and I hummed thoughtfully before responding.

"The future is always in motion. Honestly even saying 'the future', like it's some sort of solid existence, isn't remotely correct. Every decision, every conscious or subconscious choice that every person makes at every moment, changes the future. The very act of looking at the future changes it, simply because you looked at it. Possessing the knowledge your vision gives to you inevitably changes what you saw. So, really, it is more accurate to say that I have seen countless possible futures, such as Ffon's fate and your own." I resisted the urge to quote Yoda directly with some difficulty, given how legendary that quote was to any Star Wars fan, casual or dedicated alike.

"So, what happened to us all, then?"

"Spindrall fails you, Harkun murders you in front of our entire group as an example. Niloc disappeared on the second trial, either dead or trying to run for it. Gerr was killed by Ffon at Harkun's direction after that. I killed the twins when Harkun promised to let them go home if they killed me in a 'training accident'. Ffon was executed by Zash after an unfortunate series of events that really weren't his fault, if I am to be honest." I told her as gently as I could, given the news I was sharing, and she gave a soft 'oh' of understanding before falling silent. I stopped, turning and gripping her shoulder with my left hand while my right gripped her chin and tilted her face up towards mine. "Eyes on me, Kory."

Her eyes, afraid and confused, slowly rose to meet my own, and I gave her a reassuring smile.

"I'm going to save you, Kory. I keep my promises. I just need you to follow my lead and trust me, okay?" I said, and waited for her to nod her acceptance (if not heartfelt belief in my words) before I pressed a kiss to her forehead and turned away once more.

The route from the landing pad to the exterior of Ajunta Pall's tomb was longer in real life than it was in game, which wasn't all that surprising in hindsight. They wouldn't risk a shuttle suffering mechanical failure or something of the sort and smashing one of the most important tombs on Korriban to bits. In fact, it took nearly fifteen minutes to make our way through the facility, and when we finally emerged into open air the desert heat felt like a physical blow. Standing at the edge of the metal platform leading down to the ground, gazing down at the sand below us and the stone gateway across the way, there was one thing and one thing only on my mind.

"How are you with Force techniques, Kory? Lightning, Pushing, anything like that?"

The question was an important one, because there were more than a few k'lor slugs roaming in that clear expanse of tan, and plenty of them were directly between the bottom of the ramp to our left at the gateway. Avoiding them all would be impossible, and fighting those we had to would undoubtably attract others.

"I can Push easily enough. That's the only thing the evaluator really taught me before putting me on the shuttle to Korriban Station." She responded immediately, mouth twisting slightly. "I'm decent enough with a melee weapon as well, but I don't know how well this training blade will do against these things. That chitin looks tough."

"It is. Good enough to stand up to glancing blaster fire from standard Imperial infantry carbines, though sustained and targeted fire will take them down quickly enough. Still, my talents lie just as strongly towards sorcery as they do sword play. I will make use of lightning to destroy whatever is in front of us. Your responsibility is to ensure nothing takes me unawares. Understood?" I instructed, rolling my shoulders slightly in preparation and she bowed slightly with a murmur of agreement. Instinctive, I thought, to hearing a voice of command and confidence. How delightful for me.

My confidence was not misplaced, of course, given my activity over the last two years, and it made sense that she would have more faith in me than even the instinct to follow a leader could provide, given what she knew about my past. After all, leading a slave revolt was doubtlessly sufficient for preparing me to fight pests. Even if those pests were swarming, ravenous, chitin-armored, burrowing ambush predators who were incapable of feeling fear or even comprehending the concept of retreating.

We drew our practice blades, heading down the ramp towards our enemies, and I took a deep breath as the first slug spotted us. It rushed forwards, mad chittering sounds flowing from its drooling maw, it's multitude of pointed legs driving it forward with incredible speed. I took a deep breath, lifted my off hand, and reached for the memories. The memories of triumph, of knowing that my fate was in my own hands, of power, of vengeance…and of freedom.

Of casting down my oppressor and leaving his charred corpse smoldering in his own Great Hall, twisted and malformed from the agonies I had inflicted upon him as I broke my chains.

The Force Shall Free Me .

My blood fizzed and bubbled, a warm tingling spreading through my body, radiating down my arms, and with a crackle and the smell of ozone, violet-edged white lightning connected my body and that of the k'lor slug. The beast shrieked and writhed, the noise attracting others, and an idea occurred.

"Kory, throw it towards the group on the left!" I shouted as the lightning was redirected towards the slugs on our right, hoping that k'lor slugs functioned like every other predatory snake-worm in science fiction. I heard her call back in acknowledgement, the scorched and twitching creature lifting shakily off the ground and flying off to the other side. A brief glance proved my theory right, as they set about tearing their dying nestmate apart, even turning on each other to secure a larger portion for themselves.

Kory moved towards the entrance, practice blade swinging as she beat another to death, the barely-there blade delivering crippling electrical shocks to her target with every strike. As the final slugs on my side collapsed to the ground as corpses, she pulled her opponent into the air with a telekinetic grip and shoved the tip of her sword through the roof of its mouth. It writhed and shrieked and died, and she yanked her sword free before darting inside with me on her heels. We made our way partially down the stairs, out of sight of any surviving or burrowing slugs, and Kory grunted as she fell back against the cool stone wall, running her off hand through her hair. After a moment, she gave a low chuckle, and looked up at me.

"Well, starting things off with a bang, aren't we?" she commented wryly, and I laughed softly in response, nodding in agreement.

"Yes, but we did it, and once we get better weapons then these oversized cattle prods, we'll do a lot better."

That got a laugh out of her, a genuine one rather than one born of stress, and I offered her my hand. She took it after a moment, letting me pull her upright again. She gave it a soft squeeze before letting go and starting down the stairs.

"So, this is what has become of Korriban since my death, what the overseers have become. Harkun's bias is painfully obvious, and it will likely get him killed one day if he is not wise. Do not forget, child, that those who allow their prejudices and biases to rule them do not last long." My ancestor murmured in the back of my mind with what I could only call a sniff of disdain, tone contemptuous. "You must complete this trial on your own. It should pose no struggle for you, if you are wise, and I will not weaken you by easing what little burden it is. And I would move again, before you lose your little project."

His presence faded away again, the pressure of his attention fading to what I instinctively knew was passive observation, and I gave a soft huff and a head-shake as I followed Kory down the stairs.

They were, like the route from the landing pad, longer than they had been in the game, and little of the surface's warmth was present when we finally reached the barricade from behind which Cormun and his remaining troopers were desperately holding back the tide of k'lor slugs. The class trainers from the game were nowhere to be seen, which made sense. If a pair of overseers were there, they would have done the job of destroying the nest long before you arrived, so their presence must have been nothing more than a gameplay feature.

"Excuse me, Acolytes. Sergeant Cormun, Fifth Infantry Company, Korriban Regiment. May I have a moment of your time?" he addressed us almost instantly, desperation almost palpable, and I gestured to Kory while making a show of looking around.

"Not much of a company, Sergeant. Why is there a squad of Imperial infantry in the tombs during the trials? Surely, you've not been bribed by some fool to interfere in the trials? That would be…" I paused a little dramatically, inhaling and shaking my head slowly. "A poor bargain to make."

"Not at all Acolyte, our presence here is entirely above-board, I assure you!" he nearly yelped, even as his men burnt down another pair of k'lor slugs behind him, pausing to swap out their blasters for spares as their barrels grew dangerously hot from continuous use. "While the Overseers want you acolytes to be challenged in the tombs, the k'lor slugs here are breeding fast enough that they are actually attacking the academy itself for food. My company was sent in to destroy their nests, but our casualties have been enormous. We've destroyed three of the four nesting chambers, but the damn things breed so fast they overran what was left of us before we could destroy the last one. These men you see behind me are all that's left."

"Force, this is it?" Kory breathed, sounding shocked and frightened as she looked over the half-dozen functional soldiers and four wounded ones. I could hardly blame her, she had doubtless spent her entire life thinking that the Imperial Army was invincible, so hearing that an entire company of them had suffered ninety-two percent losses to fail at eradicating a nesting pest in a single building was probably quite the shift to her world-view, not to mention intimidating given our proximity to the creatures that had done it.

"Heavy casualties indeed. I assume you're seeking our assistance in completing your mission?" I asked thoughtfully, and the man nodded rapidly with a distinctly pleading expression, and I folded my arms, drumming the fingers of my right hand on my left elbow as I made a show of considering the situation. "Very well, Sergeant, we will assist you in completing the mission, on two conditions: first, you will provide us with better weapons than these worthless things, and second, you will inform the Overseers of our invaluable assistance. If we are to take time away from our trial to help our Imperial brothers in arms, then I will not have us being rebuked for it."

"Acolyte, if you help me accomplish my mission and save what's left of my unit, I'll follow you into your Overseer's office and inform them personally!" he responded, voice overflowing with relief, and I smirked in satisfaction as he had one of the injured soldiers hand him a pair of military-grade vibroswords, which he quickly passed on to Kory and myself.

"Excellent. We will assist you in escorting your injured to the shuttle platforms, then we will move to the final nesting chamber together. Get them on their feet." I purred, hefting my new weapon in my hand for a moment before looking towards where I knew the egg chamber was. "I will take point and target the larger ones with lightning. The rest of you will focus down the smaller ones. Kory will slow them down or hold them in place with The Force, your infantry will gun them down. Wounded, remain in the mouth of the tomb until we clear you a path."

"Yes, Acolyte!" the soldiers chorused, saluting and beginning their preparations. Stimulants and painkillers, hoarded until now due to the inevitable crash that would follow the expiration of their effects, were used liberally amongst the wounded to get them moving, and a loose column was formed as we started up the stairs. A careful glance outside showed that the feeding frenzy Kory and I had started on our way in had dissipated. Unfortunate, I had been hoping to make use of it to at least cross part of the distance, but I wasn't surprised. K'lor slugs weren't exactly known for being the tidiest, or the slowest, of eaters. Fine then, further pest removal it was, then.

I activated my new weapon and advanced back into the sunlight. The rest followed, the column unfolding into a wedge with Kory and wounded at its heart, and the air filled with the hisses and screeches of our would-be predators as the giant creatures spotted us and began their attack, scuttling across the sand with what could only be described as eagerness.

"Sergeant Cormun, see to your unit!" I ordered, spotting my first target and reorienting on it as the noncom started barking orders, volleys of blaster fire beginning to lash the onrushing beasts even as I rolled my shoulders and raised my hands. Lightning flowed and flew and flayed, the stench of cooked flesh filling the air, and we advanced. A quick glance over my shoulder showed that the small lift to the side of the tomb's entrance didn't exist, to no surprise of my own, and was perfectly timed to see Kory Push three smaller slugs to the ground, impaling one while the soldiers on either side of her burned the other two down where they lay. I glanced to the other side, one hand swiping through the air as I lashed out, hurling another pair into ancient stone hard enough to shatter their chitin, just before their jaws could sink into the soldier that they had overwhelmed. The situation under control, I spoke again. "Wounded, go! Cormun, the minute they are up the ramp into the shuttleport, we withdraw back into the tomb!"

The wounded hastened to obey, boots pounding on metal as they raced for the safety of the blast-doors and automated turrets. Some of them would be feeling the intensified pain, possibly even worsened injuries, of pushing their bodies like that, but I am sure that they would consider it more than worth it, given the alternative was being messily devoured alive. The moment that the doors hissed shut behind them, we began pulling back, a fighting retreat back through the entrance of the tomb and down into its depths.

Back within the shelter of the Tomb (interestingly, none of the k'lor slugs outside would pursue us within. Whether it was because the inside was owned by a different nest, because the dark power that clung to the tomb warded them off, or some other reason, I could only imagine), I took stock of my subordinates. I hadn't lost anyone, though Kory was leaning on a soldier (drained by her use of the Force, I would wager) and two of the troopers did have minor lacerations and some damaged armorplast plates.

"How are your people doing on ammunition, Sergeant?" I asked after we all took a handful of minutes to gather ourselves and our nerves, and he took a quick survey before looking back at me.

"Just over a full combat load, acolyte. The wounded gave us their ammunition before we moved out, so we're in good shape. The issue isn't power packs, however. It's overheating. Our rifles weren't designed for constant fully-automatic fire, but precision volleys. Full-auto is for the commandos and their heavy cannon. Our weapons are starting to warp from overuse." He explained seriously, professional concern tinging his voice, and I grimaced slightly in displeasure, contemplating the matter.

These are the kind of things that never occurred in the game, and only occasionally in the books. It would put the entire group in danger if their blasters failed, ranging from potentially being overwhelmed to the over-worked weapons exploding in their wielders' hands. Neither of those options, or any of the others in between them were particularly appealing, but neither was contending with the k'lor slugs unsupported. I was more than capable of doing it, of course, but was it as beneficial to my goals as fighting alongside Cormun once more and making a greater impression on him?

In the end, I wasn't callous enough to sacrifice the lives of the sergeant and his troops simply to enhance my own reputation further. He would already speak to the Overseers on mine and (more importantly) Kory's behalf. I didn't need anything more than that.

"Very well, then, Sergeant. Your responsibility with the raid will be the reverse of the evacuation, then. Kory and I will draw the slugs away while you set the timers to detonate the eggs, with your soldiers providing you with cover." I instructed, before my mouth twisted wryly as one of my gripes with the game's 'logic' came to mind. "I'm afraid that since Acolyte Kory and I were once slaves, up until not a week or two ago, the knowledge of how to set and detonate military-grade explosives were not part of our…education."

The way the soldiers glanced at one another and at us, alongside the look of blank shock on Cormun's face, would have made their surprise and discomfort over that piece of information plain even if I had lacked the ability to sense their emotions through The Force. I stood proud in the face of their disbelief, not even particularly angry about it. For them, the idea that the Sith would not only free slaves of their own accord, but elevate those slaves to the point where they would be permitted to train on the sacred home world of the Sith, to walk the halls of its ancient and holy academy, was nothing short of unfathomable.

To the more intelligent amongst them, the realization that the Empire was in more dire straits than their lords and masters were willing to admit hit hard. After all, there was no way that slaves like the two Acolytes before them had once been would have become Acolytes at all if possessing more Sith on the battlefield wasn't more important than maintaining the purity of the Sith orthodoxy, and such a decision would never have been made if the Dark Lords of The Council didn't believe it was necessary for the Empire to survive.

"Well, I don't care where or how you were born, acolyte, you saved the lives of my troops and I, and that's all that matters to me right now. We're with you all the way, ma'am. Get us to the charges, and we will get it done." Cormun said finally, and to my surprise he was being entirely genuine. It was…gratifying, to feel the truth that stood behind those words, and I dipped my head in gratitude as Kory smiled beside me.

"Very well then, Sergeant. Let's get moving."

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As always, read and review !

Chapter Text

Crown of Slaves

Chapter Thirteen

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Destroying the K’lor slug nest, with Cormun and his infantry helping, was actually astonishingly simple. Between other roving bands of acolytes and the beasts’ tendency to tear each other to bits at the slightest provocation, they were not as numerous or tightly packed as I had feared.

Of course, the simplicity of the task didn’t make it easy. A task being mechanically simple can none-the-less still being a grueling one to perform. While the k’lor slugs were less of a threat than I had feared, they were by no means not threat at all, and cutting our way through them hadn’t been easy. Nor had it been easy to fight the nest matriarch when she had tried to defend the nest, and several more of the troopers had been injured helping us distract her long enough for the charges to be activated. A fighting retreat had led to her death, and the thunderous blast that followed was satisfying in the extreme.

It was also a testament to the durability of the tomb, that such amounts of modern military grade explosives didn’t do much more than cause a bit of dust to come from the ceiling and a decently-sized scorchmark on the stone. It seems the ancient Sith built things to last, at least where their god-king had been concerned.

Still, we all escaped with our lives, the nest was destroyed, and Cormun’s troops left us to return to the Academy via the methods unavailable to mere acolytes such as ourselves (with the good sergeant reiterating his promise to support us with Harkun) while Kory and I pressed on to deal with the Tomb Raiders and Spindrall himself.

The raiders being the most immediate threat, and a far more dangerous one than they had ever been in the game. Lacking either the lightsabers or the training to block blaster bolts, lacking armor to shield us from them, and lacking personal shield generators to do the same, we found ourselves confronted with the potential of receiving the same coordinated crossfire that had aided us in killing the slugs.

Even worse, sneaking around them or ambushing them would be almost impossible, because they had repurposed various barricades and modern structures intended to reinforce or protect portions of the tomb

                “I presume you have a plan for this too, Vestara?” Kory hissed quietly, squirming slightly in my embrace, to my delight as she rubbed herself all over my semi-hard shaft. It was deliciously distracting, if I was to be honest, and my blood was beginning to tingle in the most tantalizing way.

We had made our way back to the base of the main staircase after splitting away from Cormun, finding the Tomb to be far, far larger than it had been in the game. Which really only made sense, given Ajunta Pall had essentially ruled the ancient Sith as a god-king. Why would they only have built him a tomb with a half-dozen rooms and a single large corridor? I really was going to have to rely less on my knowledge from the game, and this was a poignant reminder of that. If I couldn’t even rely on the game’s portrayal of a tomb’s layout and size, then I could hardly rely on it for the finer, and more vital, details.

Of course, contemplations such as that were for later, as was my growing hunger for Kory’s tasty self.

Our hiding place, such as it was, happened to be beneath the sandstone ass of one of the many carved slave-statues that lined the central corridor, an enormous kneeling man that formed the base of a supporting arch that stretched nearly to the ceiling. It looked just as grand, just as imposing as it had the first time I had seen it back in the Beta Test, except for the fact that it was real.

With our perfect view down the long, broad corridor that formed the heart of the tomb (you could easily take a main battle tank or a heavy walker through it without even brushing any of the ceiling-mounted crystals that provided all the light), we could easily see the dozen or so thieves guarding the makeshift barricade, and could sense at least a dozen more on the far side. Far more than the two of us could match at this stage of things, and with Cormun’s troops already gone…

                “Possibly, my Kory, possibly.” I hummed thoughtfully, pulling her more tightly into my arms as I contemplated the situation. Purely for her own protection, of course, to ensure that she wasn’t spotted by our enemies. The fact that the fingers of my dominant hand began idly tracing circles on her stomach through her thin shirt was entirely coincidental.

                “Focus, Vestara!” she snapped, placing her own hand over my own, though I was pleased to note that she didn’t remove it, only held it in place.

                “My Kory, I am focused. My plan is a simple one: we tear up our clothing, show a bit of cleavage, look nice and vulnerable and alone. The men and women over there will see some cheap and easy fun to be had and let us get in close.” I explained confidently, my free hand trailing slowly up her arm while I continued. “That’s when we kill them, take their blasters, and start taking potshots at their friends. Then, once they’re all dead, I bend you over the nearest solid object and fuck you until you can hardly stand.”

My hand, having ghosted over one of her breasts, wrapped itself around her throat and squeezing as I gave her a light shock with the hand on her stomach. Just enough to tingle and sting, like a TENS unit or a violet wand would have back home. She jerked in my grasp, shuddering and gasping as best she could with her air partially cut off. She slumped against me, whimpering in the back of her throat, and I spun us around to press her against the base of the statue and tilted her face up. Her eyes, her soft amber eyes, betrayed not just her fear and vulnerability, but a building desire that I couldn’t wait to stoke from an ember to an inferno.

Our lips met, my hand releasing its grip on her throat to tangle in her hair while the other held her hip tightly. She squeaked into my mouth before moaning as I pressed a thigh between her legs, using my grip on her hip to grind her down against it, intermittently shocking her waist area. I could sense her arousal burning brighter as I damaged her clothing, left her lips swollen and her ragged pants clinging to the outline of her wet cunt. Pulling away, leaving her panting and gazing up at me with bright eyes, I admired my work. She looked so utterly fuckable, small and soft and submissive, that it was everything I could do not to take her then and there. Instead, I quickly set about ruining my own clothing (not that it was hard), ensuring that the two of us looked like a pair of ragged, desperate sluts that would do anything to get rescued.

We stumbled out of the shadows, arms around one another as we ‘supported’ one another, limping and staggering and generally looking as helpless and pathetic as possible. Appallingly, it took them until we were well-within the standard range of even non-Force enhanced attackers, what would have been called the ’21 Foot Rule’ back home.

Not that it was much of a rule, honestly, despite what some might say. The idea that people only posed a threat to you if they were within 21 feet was absurd even when The Force wasn’t a thing.

Still, the fact that they let us get that close before realizing we were there would have had me seething if they were Imperial troopers. Instead, I was nothing but grateful for their ineptitude and lack of awareness. Baffled as well, of course, I had to admit. These people were robbing a Sith tomb, on the Sith homeworld, right outside the Sith Academy, with Sith students and ravenous, man-eating worms running around, and their ‘guards’ couldn’t even notice two hot things like us until we were close enough that we could have simply run up and stabbed them and carried on with the rest of our plan from there.

                “Hold it right there!” one of the guards, an Iridonian zabrak, called as he raised his blaster, pointing it at us as the other guards converged, their own weapons held at the ready. “Don’t come any closer, Sith!”

                “Please, you have to help us! The K’lor slugs, the other acolytes!” I cried, gesturing behind us desperately as I clutched Kory tight. “Please, please help!”

                “We just want to go home! We’ll do anything!” Kory added plaintively, ‘accidentally’ flashing a bit of her tit, and the raiders exchanged glances, several of them licking their lips as sly looks crossed their faces. Not surprising that they would take the bait, really, some free Sith pussy was probably pretty attractive to these folks. Especially if it was attractive free Sith pussy.

                “Well, we’ll have to search you, of course. Make sure you’re not carrying any hidden weapons. Maybe then we can help you for some sort of trade.” The zabrak agreed eagerly, stepping towards us as his hands came up, his allies following to surround us.

Rough hands pawed at our clothes, pulling away our vibroswords and caressing our breasts. I watched as Kory’s body was caressed and pinched and groped, her soft moans a sound that would have been music to my ears if I couldn’t feel the <Distress> that was warring with the lingering <Arousal> I had kindled in her.

And if the moans weren’t due to filthy tomb raiders and their hands, rather than my own or those of my other lovers, past and future. When one of them stroked the sodden cleft of her sex through her pants I almost snapped and attacked, but I contained myself, bottled up the anger. I was better than most Sith, who lashed out at the first spike of anger, acting on a whim and ruled by their emotions. I wasn’t going to get the two of us killed over poorly-timed possessiveness, especially not when it’s very cause meant that my plan was working.

As more of them gathered around, laying their hands on us, I reached out with my mind to caress Kory’s own presence, warning and comforting her in equal measure. All I needed was for them to be close enough with their guards down, and I would remind them that Kory and I, though Acolytes, were Sith.

I could feel them reach the tipping point, feel the group hit that invisible line where their carnal desires outweigh their caution and their defenses began to crumble. I pressed against their minds, seeping in through the widening fissures and cracks of wisdom and widening them to desire-driven deficiency. As intelligence gave way to primal craving, and they began to focus more on preparing themselves for the gangbang that they no doubt imagined was about to take place, I reached out to Kory’s mind and ‘tapped’ it twice, warning her that the time of our attack was but moments away. I felt her <Aknowledgement> in the return caress she sent, clumsy though it was, and focused. The world seemed to slow, my heartbeat quickened, and I gave the signal.

We struck together, the Force exploding away from our bodies to send our enemies flying. I felt gleaming sparks of life in three of them snuff out as necks were broken, and we surged to our feet and launched our attack in earnest. I called the nearest blaster to my hands, shooting anyone and everyone in sight even as I struck those recovering from their brief flight with short, debilitating shocks. Kory, less capable of wielding the Force in violence than I was, had opted to retrieve her blade and a small blaster pistol, a combination that she was using to great effect.

Between the surprise of our attack and the fact that they had almost all lost hold of their weapons when we sent them flying, finishing them off wasn’t hard. In fact, it was embarrassingly easy. I suppose they had survived this long because k’lor slugs and the typical Sith acolyte were far more likely to simply barrel straight towards them than do anything else.

Complacency breeds death.

We stripped their bodies when we were done, at least in so far as we lay claim to all the useful materials they were carrying. Grenades, for example, would come well in handy for our future endeavors. Nothing like a bit of a plasma explosion or a massive, blinding flash to even one’s odds against superior numbers. By the time we finished, we each had a pistol, our vibroswords, a bandoleer of grenades, and extra canisters of Tibanna gas and power packs. Not that reloading our blasters would probably prove necessary, but it could hardly hurt to have the supplies on hand anyway.

                “I can’t believe that worked. They had women of their own, what would they have wanted us for? Why risk that we were lying, why risk getting in arm’s reach of two Sith acolytes? Why not just shoot us, or beat us and then rape us?” Kory asked as we set off through the tomb again, carefully watching the shadows and peeking around corners for potential counter-attacks or ambushes.

                “It’s because we were Sith that they did things the way that they did. They wanted the thrill of dominating a pair of Sith, they wanted the thrill of the triumph over such dangerous and powerful enemies. It’s the same reason most Sith would pay a hefty price to own a Jedi slave.” I explained with a shrug, taking what I had seen in their minds and following the thread’s logical train. “It’s the feeling of having power over something or someone that would normally have power over you, even dictate whether you lived or died. It’s the same thing with me and my former Mistress. Of course, when she submitted to me, she wasn’t plotting anything, she simply learned her place was beneath me, not above.”

                “Wait, you seduced your former owner?” Kory actually stopped and stared at me at that, and I stopped as well, raising my eyebrow at her in confusion. If she knew about my ‘rebellion’, then how could she not be aware that Asmu-Nikal had been on my side throughout the entire affair?

Then the answer occurred, and I called myself a fool. Of course it wasn’t being advertised or talked about! Neither Marr nor Nicky would want that particular detail known, both for their own reasons, and besides the two of them there were perhaps half-dozen people alive that knew all the details. Lachris wouldn’t breathe a word, I was confident of that, either because Marr had ordered her to be silent or because she was smart enough not to risk making unnecessary enemies without his advice.

                “I did, but you can’t breathe a word of that to anyone unless I give you permission otherwise, Kory. I mean it. Neither of us want someone deciding to make an example of us to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” I warned sternly, getting a rapid head nod of agreement as the red-head paled slightly at the idea. Satisfied that she was appropriately warned, I continued. “Yes, Asmu-Nikal and I became lovers fairly early on, but I was able to eventually take her affections and her heart for my own and bring out her submissive side in full force. She sided with me during the slave revolt.”

I hesitated, considering whether to say any more than that, before deciding against it. As close as Kory would eventually be to me, I did not yet own her whole-hearted loyalty. Until I did, control of information was important. Hopefully, when I finally did tell her the truth (the truth of this universe, that is, not the whole ‘this was all a video game to me once upon a time’ truth), she would be understanding of my reluctance. Instead, I shook my head and looked around, my eyes falling across a convenient cul-de-sac off to our right side. One with a sizeable sarcophagus dominating the center of the room.

Wrapping my hand around Kory’s wrist, I dragged her towards the room. She squeaked once, softly, and I could feel her [Embarrassment] and [Anticipation] as she realized my goal, my intention to fulfill the promise that I had made her not so very long ago. What I did not sense, however, was anything approaching distaste, disapproval, or reluctance. Beyond, perhaps, the faintest of concern, which I would wager had considerably more to do with us potentially getting ambushed and slaughtered while we focused on fucking.

A reasonable concern, but I was pretty sure everyone in the general vicinity had just died rather brutally at our hands. The other acolytes were ahead of us and there was not likely to be another group arriving anytime soon, which meant that (with the aforementioned demise of the tomb raiders) we would be free and clear for the time being. Free and clear for me to claim the slender and sweet redhead for my own.

                “Vestara…” she started to say as we came to a stop beside the sarcophagus, only to make a soft noise of surprise as I turned on her, one hand wrapping around the side of her neck while the other fell to her hip. Leverage I used to move her bodily and press her against the side of the massive stone construct, holding her in place while my lips fell onto hers.

The kiss was not gentle or romantic, but rough and domineering, and as she squealed against my lips I channeled a mild flow of electrical energy into her once again. Her hands went to my chest, latching onto my breasts and kneading them as best she could, which was pretty damn well given the tattered nature of my shirt. Her arousal, which had started to fade during the tactical molestation we had endured and the killing that had followed, was growing again, spiking with every shock as she started to press herself up towards me. She was desperate for more pleasure, desperate for not just my touch but the security I provided, and I was more than ready to give it to her. This wasn’t the time for slow, steady, teasing sex. This was the time for hard, unforgiving, domineering fucking.

I spun her around, a firm hand on her back bending her deeply enough that her face and breasts were pressed against the sarcophagus’ carved surface, while the other gripped her thin pants tight and yanked them below her knees. Only moments later, the head of my cock was pressed against her soaked lips and splitting them open

                “Ah…ahh!” she cried out, hands slapping down onto the stone as I inexorably pushed deeper inside of her, spreading her tunnel wide. A more difficult task than I had, but I certainly wasn’t going to complain, in fact I relished how tight she was the entire time I worked my way into her. When my hips were finally pressed against the firm globes of her ass, every inch of my length surrounded by tight and clenching wetness, I ran both my hands up her back with a hum of blissful satisfaction.

                “Force but you’re tight, Kory. You feel so good.” I groaned softly, and she gave a breathless sort of giggle in response as her hips shifted slightly from side to side, her internal muscles tightening and loosening rhythmically as she tried to get used to the intrusion. Not that I intended to give her the opportunity, I thought with a perverse grin as I started to drag my cock back towards her entrance

                “F-force, Ves-~!” she tried to protest at the movement, only to be cut off by her own moan as I quickly, and briefly, reversed my course. “Y-you have to let me get used to it! You’re too big!”

                “I warned you on the shuttle, didn’t I? You’re mine now, Kory, which means this unnaturally perfect cock is going to spend an awful lot of time in one of your holes.” I purred, the words a promise and a threat in equal measure, and she gave a shudder that was well and truly a full-body shudder. “Hmm, you can be my cute little cockwarmer. Every night, after a long day of study underneath the overseers, you can spend some time underneath me while I stuff you full of cum. Then you can spend the rest of the night with me buried to the hilt inside you, keeping my cock nice and warm in those cold Korribani nights.”

                “Y-you can’t just s-say it like that.” She whined, sounding embarrassed, something that I found to be utterly adorable. Though not adorable enough for my to stop my efforts to fuck her, as my cock slipped out of her entirely, getting another, wordless whine in response. Slapping my flared cockhead on her pussy lips, the resulting sound a distinctly wet and lewd one, I enjoyed the moan she offered in response before sliding back into her and setting a heavy pace.

                “Ah, ah, umf~!” she vocalized, every sound arousing, as she slid back and forth a few inches with every cycle of thrusts, her barely-clad breasts and stomach scrapping lightly across the stone. “Ves, y-you need to take it easy! I haven’t had anyone in s-so long! I need to be able to walk for the rest of this trial, Ves!”

                “I am taking it easy on you, kitten. Which is why you’ll be able to stumble along after me for the rest of the day. If it wasn’t for the trial, the best thing you would be able to manage was a slow crawl.” I ‘reassured’ her, punctuating the statement with a particularly deep thrust, one that had her crying out loudly in pleasure and pain alike as I pressed against the very deepest parts of her pussy.

There wasn’t much conversation, after that, just the sound of flesh slapping against flesh as I fucked Kory into a tear-stained mess, her cries echoing off of the walls around us, her [Desire] and [Bliss] and [Hope] pouring into the Force like a torrent. A flood of emotion one that I was eager to consume and draw strength from.

Our presences, our souls themselves folded around one another like twin stars as we poured ourselves into one another.

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What seemed like hours after we had begun, I watched as Kory tried to recover, breathing heavily as she half-lay across the sarcophagi’s stone surface. Her pussy and upper thighs stained with our mixed fluids, even as more leaked out of her thoroughly packed womb, and tucked my length back into my pants.

                “A pity that I don’t have anything to plug you with, especially something that wouldn’t render you incapable of fighting.” I mused, both teasing and genuinely disappointed, running my right hand along the bare, sweaty skin of her back, fingers tracing along the length of her spine, and she shuddered softly and pressed her side against me as best she could. The mix of emotions radiating off of her had me narrowing my eyes in some concern, and I stroked her again gently. “What’s wrong, sweet Kory? Did you not enjoy yourself?”

                “No, no of course not, it was wonderful! I’ve never cum that hard in my life, you can believe that!” she hastened to assure me, shaking her head as best she could and flashing me a genuine but somewhat tired smile, though it faded slightly as she continued. “You were so rough with me, so dominant, and I am…I didn’t expect to like that so much. I wasn’t pretty enough to get fucked often, even by the guards, but when someone did want me, they weren’t particularly pleasant about it.”

I wasn’t surprised to hear that, though I was paradoxically annoyed that Kory hadn’t been considered ‘pretty enough’ to get raped regularly. It was good that she hadn’t suffered that way, of course it was, but how blind were those that once owned her? Certainly, she was no great beauty like Nicky or Lana, nor even possessed the cute, trained, seductive attractiveness of Kela or the lethal, honed grace of Lachris, but in all fairness she was a former slave. And not in the manner that Kela, or even I, had been to Nicky. It was obvious from her appearance that she had never been finely dressed, perfumed, decorated with fine makeup. On the contrary, it was clear that the opposite was the case. Her hair was cut short, out of the way. Her body was littered with small scars, fading bruises still painted her skin, her hands were calloused and her skin darkened by long exposure to the sun. Yet despite all of that, I was quite sure she would be beautiful indeed once given the opportunity and the means. Even as she was now, I found her breathtaking. Cute, gentle, sweet, with a good heart, strong in her own understated way. And that wasn’t even the pleasant afterglow of a good fuck talking.

Of course, all that was beside the point. Right now, I had a vulnerable, surprised, submissive masochist-in-training pressed against me for comfort and reassurance. She was my priority, as she well should be, especially in this moment.

                “It is not so strange that you didn’t expect it. You’re not used to being with, even being used and abused, to wield a common phrase, a dominant lover that can show you affection. One who can make sure, wants to make sure, that pain is equaled or surpassed by pleasure.” I explained gently, stroking her again, letting my presence wash over her in the Force even as she felt my comforting hand on her skin. “You’re not used to someone genuinely caring for you.”

                “And you do care for me, don’t you? I could sense that, when we were together. While you held me. Even when you were fucking me as hard as you could, even as you growled and threatened and promised dark and depraved things, you never cared more for the sex than you did for me.” She practically whispered the words, fear and awe and wonder and anticipation seeping from every word. And hope, such radiant blinding hope, that the seeping miasma of the dark side that seeped from every inch of the stone around us seemed to recede before it.

                “Yes I do. I’m not trying to save you just because you’ll be a fun fuck and a cute bedwarmer, or because it’s a simple little game for me to save your life. I’m saving you because I want to save you. The fact that you’re mine now only enhances that desire, not creates it.” I confirmed, relishing in the reactions, the emotions, that flowed from her into the Force around us.

Practically humming with relief, pleasure, and a kernel of genuine affection, Kory unsteadily straightened up and tidied her clothes, hiding away her flooded sex once again. Once she was presentable, or as much as she could be under the circumstances, she pressed herself against my chest.

                “You really mean that…heh. As long as you’ll have me, I’m yours. However, whenever, whyever, whereever you want me, I belong to you. My mistress, Vestara Khai.” She murmured, she promised, before leaning up to press a kiss to my lips and pulling away before my hands could start to wander again, a spark in her eyes once more as she folded her hands behind her back and bent slightly towards me with a small smile. “Come along, mistress. Let’s go find an old man and earn our way into the Academy itself. We’ve a trial to pass and a dorm room to claim and christen, don’t we? I wonder what other ways we can find to make eachother feel good?”

With that, she spun around in an oddly-graceful pirouette and made her way back towards the entryway. I watched her swaying ass make it’s way across the room, eyes locked on the small stain that I was positive I could see on the thin cloth between her thighs, before inhaling sharply and following. Kory was right, we had a trial to complete…and, it seemed, I had more of a reward to collect when we were finished.

Here we come, Spindrall. I hope you’re ready for us.

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Chapter Text

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Fourteen

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The room that Spindrall had claimed for himself, unlike the rest of the tomb, looked almost exactly like it had in the game. A small cul-de-sac, utilitarian lighting and durasteel grating providing the lighting and space required for the failed acolytes hiding here to train. And there were acolytes, a half-dozen of young men, working on sword forms or struggling to summon lightning against the training dummies. One, either foolish or more skilled than the others, was stepping into the small structure* on the left hand side of the room. I watched as he gathered his courage and he passed through the door, vibrosword drawn and active.

Crimson light blazed as ray shielding snapped into place over both entrances to the structure, and then the six small turrets within opened fire. He blocked desperately, blade buzzing through the air as he tried to retreat, to place his back in a corner where he could focus on defending from but a single direction, but it was fruitless. The turrets tore him apart in under a minute, the lower intensity training bolts driving him to his knees and then his stomach, before battering his insensate body until even their weaker output overwhelmed his endurance.

A fool, then.

Ignoring his slightly smoldering, bloody and bruised corpse, Kory and I ascended the stairs slowly and solemnly, each of us aware that all our efforts with Cormun and (though we hadn’t met him yet) Rigel were fruitless if Spindrall spoke against us.

                “Slaves. Welcome to my humble hole.” Spindrall greeted us the moment we finished ascending the stairs to the platform upon which he knelt, a seething cloak of the Dark Side wrapped around him, writhing and shifting in his meditations. It dissipated as he rose, breaking apart and fading away like a mist as he turned to face us, wizened features coming into view. “Here to learn the ways of the Sith from a doddering old fool hiding in a tomb, and to return to your Overseer with a sign of my approval.”

                “We are, despite Harkun’s misgivings.” I responded for the both of us, tilting my head to the side curiously as I met his eyes with my own. “It is strange, My Lord, that your eyes are so calm a shade of grey. I had thought a devotee of the Dark Side such as yourself, one that lives in a place so steeped in its power as this tomb, would have the same physical changes that all mighty Sith seem to experience. Even the paling of your skin and the lines that cross it seem more due to age than corruption.”

                “Ha! A bold slave, who comments on the features of a man who can condemn them to death, but no less bold than your previous actions upon this world and Dromuund Kaas alike. You amuse me, and so I shall answer your impertinent questions. Only those that are incapable of proper control, or those who draw too deeply on the Dark Side in a short time frame, lose themselves in the way you describe. Understandably, most Sith in the Empire are one or the other. I spend little time on the battlefield, so the second is not a concern for me, and my control is impeccable, so the first is equally irrelevant.” He gave a raspy bark of laughter, and despite myself I could not restrain the blink of surprise at his knowledge. Knowing that we were here to be evaluated was one thing, requiring little talent in discernment or cleverness, but knowing who I was personally was another thing altogether. Catching the surprise, both with his eyes and The Force, he gave another bark of laughter. “I see many things that others cannot, and hear what they do not speak. There is a reason, despite the whining of Harkun and those like him, that I remain here and have the gravitas that I do. I know who you are, Vestara Khai. I know that Marr himself has sent you here, and I know that you have claimed the woman behind you as your whore and made use of her within these halls. Were it not for your butchery of those that sought to steal the relics of our Founding Lord, I might kill you for such defilement.”

                “I sought only to emulate what I know of the Sith, My Lord. My Kory is weaker than me, and so I took her for my own, made her mine. Received her submission and made sure she understood what it meant. This is what I saw the Sith of Dromuund Kaas do, and so I knew it was the right choice.” I said quickly, inclining my head as my mind raced, cursing myself and my libido as Kory gave a soft whimper of distress behind me. It had never occurred to me, in my lust, that doing what we did would constitute as an offense, but of course it would. I can’t imagine it would have gone over well if, had George Washington (for an example near and dear to my own heart) had a grand tomb, two people had entered it and started having kinky sex on the relics and decorative statues while covered in blood and gore.

                “Hmph. There is a difference between the rest of the Empire. rest of the galaxy, and these sacred sands, but no matter. Your pet is weak, yes. Disgustingly weak. It is the way of the Sith, of the Empire, to submit yourself in mind and body to those superior to yourself. To surrender without a fight, however, to allow herself to be bent and bred like the whore she is without resistance…this is behavior worthy of those who serve the Sith, not Sith themselves. She does not deserve to stand in our halls as an acolyte, nor rise within our ranks.” He didn’t sneer, didn’t scoff or spit in my plaything’s direction, only spoke with cold, implacable certainty. “I will not give her my approval. Her life will, inevitably, be forfeit. Either when she follows you to Harkun’s chambers, or when she is finally cornered and crushed like the mouse she is within the halls of this tomb.”

I felt Kory’s fear, and her resignation, as she pressed her face against my back. She had begun to have faith that I would save her life, believed that everything we had done proved that she was worthy of being Sith, and it was all being brought crashing down. My Kory was giving up, abandoning her desire to fight and live by the heartbeat.

I would not permit it.

                “Kory is mine. I decide whether she lives or dies, and I say that she lives.” I growled, squaring my shoulders and glaring at the old man before me, who merely raised an eyebrow at my aggressive defiance. “We have proven ourselves, passed your ‘Trial of Blood’, by destroying the slug nest, destroying the looters. Her submission to me, my ownership of her, does not diminish that!”

                “You have killed many men and beasts since you entered this tomb, that is true, and she has offered you some assistance in that matter.” Spindrall acknowledged, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing slightly before us as he took on a lecturing tone. “However, she did so only because of your promise to preserve her life. She would not have had the courage or the strength to do so without your hand clasping hers. To lack both initiative, and the strength to follow through on initiative, does not serve the future of the Sith. Nor does, I reiterate, submission without even the most token resistance. How can she be entrusted, in however small a part, with the future of our order if she is so easily broken? Even now, she hides behind you, cowers in your shadow!”

                “I didn’t break, I chose to submit! Vestara promised to teach me and protect me so long as I became hers. I made a bargain to my own benefit and advancement.” Kory argued, poking her head out around me, a fierce look on her face that was honestly more cute than intimidating. “Giving up without gain isn’t the way of the Sith, right? So, I figured out a way to succeed in spite of my limitations! I turned a hopeless situation around through using whatever tools I could!”

                “Ah, the mouse bares her little fangs!” Spindrall remarked, pausing in his pacing and sounding distinctly amused as he regarded her. “Not the worst excuse for weakness that I have ever heard, certainly, but I am unconvinced. How will you fare, mouse, without your owner keeping you safely in her pocket, hmm? Will you pass this academy and be content to spend the rest of your life spreading your legs to purchase safety?”

                “Not all Sith are like Lord Marr, meant to lead the battle from the front. There are those who work in the shadows, those that interrogate and question and watch. I look at Kory and see a great deal of potential, Spindrall. Small, soft, and sweet, easily unnoticed by those around her. Easy enough to ignore while secrets are shared or patrols are performed, easy to ignore long enough for her to get close and slide a blade into someone’s heart or poison in their drink.” I responded for her, Kory nodding in agreement, and Spindrall hummed in thought as he regarded her.

                “What you say is true, and I admit that she is by appearance and behavior below notice, unremarkable and unmemorable. Ideal for both spying and assassination.” He mused, and we both brightened at the appearance of success in our argument. A feeling that was quickly quashed as he continued. “Yet I have little confidence that she will last long enough to bring this plan of yours to fruition. So, you will buy her life in blood. Kill the Acolytes below, and I will give approval to Harkun for the both of you. Fail, and I will strangle the life out of your pet myself.”

I clenched my jaw hard enough to hurt, but I honestly couldn’t say that I was surprised. Spindrall likely believed that I was keeping Kory alive for her use as a whore, and nothing more. Given that I had bent her over a sarcophagus not an hour ago and that she was still dripping my cum from between her legs, I could hardly fault him for believing it. After all, the idea that I might have saved her because of a ten-line conversation from a video game, that I was inexplicably fond of her despite the brevity of that interaction, would have been unfathomable to him. And, for that matter, he wasn’t entirely wrong. I fully intended for Kory’s primary purpose to be as one of my lovers…which Kory would probably prefer to being an assassin or a spy.

                “You have a bargain, Spindrall.” I agreed coldly, turning away from him and reaching to the Force as I prepared to fight. I felt regret, for a moment, how easily the Dark Side responded to my call. How quickly it flowed through my veins, kindling battle-lust, and I had to consciously tamp down on more overt physical reactions. The Dark Side, I reflected once again, worked much like Pavlovian Conditioning. Linking pleasure with rage and hate and the causation of harm. Even worse, despite being aware of it, was the fact that I had no choice at this time but to wield it exclusively. I lacked the training to achieve victory in five-to-one odds against other acolytes, especially after fighting past the k’lor slugs and the tomb raiders, while also trying to balance my usage of the Force.

I descended the stairs like a stormcloud, heading directly for the acolytes, (each and every one of whom was a moderately-built male human, almost painfully generic in appearance and presence within the Force), all of whom had heard Spindrall’s pronouncements and were gathering together in order to fight me, exchanging words with one another as they regarded me. Well, I wasn’t inclined to give them a chance to plan their attack, nor was I inclined to spend anymore time in this tomb than I absolutely had to.

 I lashed out at the left-most of their number before I even reach the landing, lightning pouring from my hands. He attempted to block, of course, but even lightsabers struggled to block properly aimed and empowered Force Lightning. The vibrosword, which was not even a military-grade weapon like my own, might as well not even have been present for all the good that it did him. He collapsed, screaming, as his muscles and nerves ceased to function properly, misfiring or shutting down entirely under the barrage of high-voltage eldritch energy. I cut the energy off and charged, confident that he would be out of the fight for the time being, and shoulder-checked the next man in line, knocking him to the ground.

A tingle in the Force warned me and I turned, blade coming up just in time to catch the next acolyte’s attack on its length. Our blades pressed together as we pitted our strength against one another. Fortunately for me, his malnourishment from hiding in the tomb for God knows how long left his muscles in only slightly better shape than my own ‘only-recently-freed-from-slavery’ musculature, which meant he couldn’t overpower me as quickly as he might have had he been healthier.

The man I had shoulder checked stirred, hand scrabbling for his weapon as he attempted to stand, and I took a moment to look down and stomp on his throat, crushing his larynx and thoroughly removing him from the fight as his eyes bulged in shock and fear. Had he the ability to keep calm and use the Force to slow his oxygen expenditure or reopen the damaged pathway, he might have been able to save himself.

He was neither, and immediately began panicking and clawing at his throat.

The distraction of dealing with him, however, cost me. The other two acolytes, unengaged thus far, had spread out to flank the one with whom I was blade-locked. While the one to my left was distracted by the flailing figure at my feet, the one on my right had no such issues, and swung his vibroblade at me. A panicked thrust with the Force diverted it from anything instantly fatal, but I gave a short scream of pain as it scored a searing gash across my thigh instead. Desperate, I channeled Force Lightning again, but this time using my sword and that of my enemy as a conduit. He was quick on the uptake, jerking away before he got more than a painful jolt, but it bought me the time I needed to fall back and regain my balance.

I was injured now, my mobility reduced, which put me at a disadvantage. Something my enemies were clearly aware of, as all three were advancing towards me radiating sick satisfaction and anticipation. Given their dedication to engaging me in melee, however, I was confident in saying that that my talents with sorcery were beyond their own. All I needed was the time to tip the odds in my favour, and I knew just how to get it. My tattoos flared as I gathered power, the three across from me hesitating as they sensed it blooming within the Force. Expecting another blast of lightning, the two on the flanks dived sideways in an effort to avoid it while the one in the middle charged in an effort to stop me.

This left him quite unprepared and off balance when my overpowered Push caught him in the chest and hurled him across the room, right into the blaster-defense training dome that I had spotted on the way in. The whine of the blaster turrets beginning their work was a welcome one as I selected my next target, giving the left-side acolyte a short blast of lightning to keep him at bay as I picked up one of the fallens’ weapons and hurled it at the right-side acolyte as fast as I could persuade the Force to move it. It embedded itself in his stomach, leaving him a screaming mess on the ground, and I clashed blades with the final acolyte.

                “For a former slave, you’re not doing too badly. Perhaps, once I kill you, Spindrall will let me keep your little pet as a plaything.” He hissed, pushing me back a step with a surge of strength and giving my thigh wound a rapid punch. I screamed in mingled pain and anger as the leg gave out, and screamed again as his blade cut through my robes to leave another wound across my chest, my blade clattering away across the stones. He stood over my kneeling form, eyes alight with sadistic glee as he raised his blade again. “Die knowing that I’ll rape that cute whore of yours on top of your corpse.”

Was this really it? Was I really about to die to a literal trash mob, all my dreams and goals for nothing, my plans shadows and dust on the wind? Was I nothing more than a deluded fool, who believed that they could change the galaxy?

Was I really so weak, so worthless, without Kallig aiding me? Was I truly nothing without him?

I looked over at Kory, saw and felt the fear and pain and affection for me in her, the resignation that she was about to watch me die, and that she would soon follow. Was I going to allow that, allow her to die after I had sworn to protect her, convinced her that I could save her life? Was I going to give up here, after surviving Luwian, seducing Nicky, impressing Marr?

No.

The word reverberated through my mind, deep and decisive and full of wrath. My power coiled around me, the Force answering my call as I gathered myself for one final effort. The acolyte’s blade began to fall, determined to end me before I could raise my own to defend myself. I looked up at him, dominant arm protectively cradling my wounded torso, and squared my shoulders as I met his eyes and opened my mouth. But I was not going to plea for my life, nor spit insults in defiance of death. Instead, I did something else entirely.

I screamed.

The sound filled the air and the Force both, a high-pitched, echoing wail, like that of a banshee. The wave of Force-enhanced decibels slammed into him like a fist, visibly distorting the air between us, and he reeled away with a scream of his own, clutching his ears as blood began flow from his burst eardrums, his nose staining his face red as he clenched his suddenly blurry eyes closed. Stumbling over the body of the man whose throat I had crushed and falling onto his back, he writhed on the ground, screaming obscenities in between wordless howls of pain as I called my vibrosword back to my hand. I rose, slowly and painfully, the tip of the weapon dragging on the ground as I half-stumbled, half-shuffled over to him.

My first attempt at finishing him off failed, my blade piercing his shoulder rather than his heart, and my next two were hardly better. In all, it took five tries to finish him off, and another two to kill the still-paralyzed man I had attacked first. My task complete, I turned for the stairs, slowly and painfully making my way towards the peak.

                “Well done, if not flawlessly, but I suppose a flawless victory is a bit much to expect from a slave fresh off the shuttle. Even one with your background. Your talent with sorcery is impressive, far superior to your talent with a blade, but given your past, this is to be expected. That scream, in particular, was an excellent move, if one made in desperation. Refine it, and it may prove quite beneficial in close quarters.” Spindrall remarked as my bloody, battered body finally reached the top of the stairs, Kory instantly coming to my side, fluttering about anxiously as she tried to figure out how to help me without inadvertently causing more harm. After examining me for a moment, the old man gave a grunt of what seemed to be satisfaction and looked at my companion. “Stop hovering, little mouse. Go down to the bunking area and search the first and fourth lockers. Bring the stimulants and medical supplies you find there back at once.”

Kory looked like she wanted to protest at first, but the moment ‘medical supplies’ left his mouth she was off down the stairs, eager to lend a helping and healing hand with my injuries. It was only right, after all, given that I had sustained the aforementioned injuries fighting to preserve her life. I started shrugging off my shirt, slowly and painfully, paying the old man’s presence no mind, as I waited for her to return.

                “She may serve you well, Acolyte, but do not think for a moment that others will be so amenable to bargains as I.” Spindrall remarked, folding his hands behind his back and regarding me with an air that could just barely qualify as curiosity. “It will be interesting to see how you manage to keep her alive through the rest of your trials and into your apprenticeship.”

                “You’ve my thanks for your confidence in my ability to claim Lord Zash’s apprenticeship for myself.” I grunted in response as Kory rushed up the stairs behind me and started working on my wounds, putting kolto patches on some and spraying a thin coating on others. “Since I doubt it is due to my devastating power and vast talent, I don’t suppose you would tell me why?”

                “You are cheeky, brat, but amusing.” Spindrall responded with a light, genuinely amused chuckle. “The acolyte Ffon Althe sought my advice and confirmation over the information you gave to him, confirmation that I provided. With him seeking a different Lord to serve, you are all but assured to earn Zash’s apprenticeship. None of the others, together or apart, have the ability to contend with you. Even if you lacked the greater knowledge and training that you possess from your time belonging to Lord Luwian, you would outmatch them. Now, begone from this place, lest more failed acolytes arrive and take your mouse from you. You will find the way forward quite clear, thanks to Althe and the rest of the acolytes belonging to your pool and that of Baras.”

                “Thank you, Lord Spindrall.” We murmured together, bowing as he turned away, having dismissed us from his interest the moment he had finished speaking. He did not deign to respond, nor to even look at us as we departed his abode. My last sight of him before the stone walls blocked my view was the cloud of Dark Side energy coalescing around him once more as he returned to his meditations.

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*Most people probably never noticed it, since it wasn’t where Spindrall was or where you fight the acolytes, but this object is actually in the game. If you walk into it, you can actually see the small turrets I’m talking about. It doesn’t do anything, but given that Spindrall’s area is all about failed acolytes trying to redeem themselves, a blaster-defense-trainer (the Sith version, of course) seems to be the most probable explanation for it.

Chapter Text

Emerging back into the blazing sun of Korriban after several hours in the cool, dimly-lit rooms and halls of Ajunta Pall’s tomb wasn’t a pleasant experience, and I swore rather viciously and threw an arm up over my eyes. An action, I saw, that was mirrored by Kory, though she didn’t react as violently as I was. More used to being in the heat and sun than I was, perhaps. Even before Nicky had taken me into her service and I had been servicing the grounds of the estate, I had been on Dromuund Kaas. Sunshine and heat were not exactly prominent features on the imperial capital, to say the very least, and even in my old life I hadn’t been from a region that was particularly famous for it…though a summer day could be quite lovely, if the stars aligned sufficiently.

                “Well, there’s the Academy.” Kory murmured from my elbow, and as my eyes adjusted I saw it as well. It was further away than it was in the game, perhaps unsurprisingly, stretching towards the sky nearly a quarter-mile ahead of us. It was enormous, of course, at least equal in size to the tomb that we had just left. Or at least so it seemed at first glance, though I was willing to bet a great deal of credits that I didn’t technically have that it would turn out to be considerably larger. The Sith didn’t build small, after all, and while the Academy was unlikely to be overflowing with students given the typical Sith attitudes and cultural inclinations, I was willing to bet there would be a lot more people inside of it too.

Potential rivals and threats, one and all. Directly or indirectly, one way or another, they could pose a danger to my life, to Kory’s life, and to my plans for the Empire and for the future. And it was certainly true that potential allies could be found here as well, but I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that such would be the default.

                “Yeah, there it is. Filled to the brim with people that would probably like nothing more than to put both our heads on particularly large stakes, the Overseers included.” I sighed tiredly, a feeling that was born equally of mental and emotional strain, and the strain and damage that my body had endured. Then I slung my right arm around Kory, shamelessly copping a feel while simultaneously giving her something approximating a hug. “Fortunately for us, the Overseers work under strict rules, especially in regards to us. So long as we finish the trials, they can’t do anything to us at all, and acolyte-on-acolyte violence is strictly prohibited! Not that it isn’t still a possible risk, of course.”

                “More inexplicable knowledge of the future?” she drawled in response, reaching up with one hand to free her chest from my grasp, and I pouted even as I made a noise of confirmation, letting my hand fall back to my side. Still, despite her actions, she didn’t step away from me, instead remaining intimately pressed against my side. “I don’t suppose you know what the other trials will be?”

                “I might, though I’ll keep it to myself for the time being. Without his pet pureblood, who knows what Harkun will throw at us in addition to anything Zash plans?” I shrugged, and she gave soft grunt of annoyed understanding and acceptance before pulling away from me and squaring her shoulders. “Ready, then?”

                “Whether I’m ready or not, we don’t really have a choice but to keep moving forward, do we?” she philosophized, and I didn’t even try to restrain my snort of agreement. A moment of silent, comradely commiseration later and we were making our way towards the Academy’s grandiose main entrance. Much like in the game itself, the exterior was swarming with acolytes, overseers, imperial soldiers, droids, and assorted slaves. In fact, there were so many people in the near vicinity that we drew barely a second glance, despite the tattered and revealing condition of our clothing. We were just two more battered and bloody acolytes out of many, not worth paying any attention to until we had proved ourselves worthy of notice.

And quite frankly, I was fine with people not taking notice of us quite yet. Being noticed amongst the Sith might not necessarily be an inherently bad thing, since being noticed by your superiors might mean greater rewards, greater power, and greater responsibilities which you could use to ascend even further…but it might also mean those same superiors decided that you were a problematic upstart that was a threat to their own power. Not to mention being noticed by your superiors would draw the attention and the ire of your fellow lower-ranking Sith, who would inevitably seek to supplant you.

Not to mention the fact that keeping Kory alive could, and likely would, prove problematic as it was. I didn’t need to try and counter more problems than was strictly necessary, I had enough stress in my life (and more than enough plates in the air) as it was already. I certainly had no intention of adding a few more.

I couldn’t quite restrain my sigh of relief as we stepped into the shadow of that colossal structure, the entrance looming over us in all it’s ancient glory, and as my eyes began to adjust to the sudden darkening of the world around me, I caught sight of the two Overseers waiting within. A female pureblood and a male human, just as they had been in the game, and I gently guided Kory away from the sneering pureblood. Not that the human was any more accommodating to our presence, looking at us as if we were worth less than the dust that coated our clothes, but at least he directed us to the right place. Which was very fortunate indeed, I saw, as we made our way past the Dark Honor Guards (who did not kneel as they had in the game, because why would the guards of the Emperor himself kneel to unproven acolytes) and into the main atrium, it quickly became clear that the interior of the Academy was a far more complex place than it had been in the game. Dozens of rooms at least within easy view, and the number of would-be Sith that flitted back and forth under the appraising eyes of the Overseers and guards seemed to me uncountable. They weren’t, of course, I could sense well enough in the Force that there were likely no more than a couple of hundred Acolytes presence in the Academy at the moment, and I doubted that there were too many more out on trials. Some, of course, maybe as many as another hundred, but not much more than that.

Following the directions we had been given, our much-battered pair made its way through the halls and corridors, ignoring what few mutters and looks sent our way with the ease born of a lifetime in slavery, of degradation and of being beneath notice as much as possible. The cooler air of the Academy stung our wounds and nipped at no-longer-protected skin, and by the time that we finally arrived at Harkun’s chambers we were both shivering rather unpleasantly.

Though I have to admit, the very, very sour look on the Overseer’s face when we walked through the door provided quite the warmth all on it’s own, and I barely resisted the urge to give him a mocking smile and a wink as we joined the group of acolytes standing before him.

                “Hmph. It seems your inability to be punctual continues, slave. We have been waiting for you for some time.” He mocked, before folding his hands behind his back and regarding the lot of us sternly. “I was hoping to dispose with at least one of you pathetic wretches, but it seems that Spindrall’s madness is deeper than I had realized. That foolish old man has deemed all of you worthy of entering into the Academy, and I am bound to follow his recommendations for this Trial. Unfortunately for you, this is the last time his lunacy will spare you the fate you deserve.”

He gestured to a double row of datapads and holocomms that sat on a large plinth to one side of the room.

                “Each of you is now officially a student of the Sith Academy. As such, you will be provided a holocomm and a datapad, in an effort to cut down on the amount of time we Overseers have to waste waiting for you to get from place to place or speak with us. You have also been assigned a series of a rooms to inhabit, two of you per room. Pair yourselves as you see fit, I don’t care.” He continued, rolling his eyes as Kory and I instantly stepped closer together, a movement mimicked by the twins, leaving the others awkwardly glancing at one another. “Hmph, whatever. Leave at once, settle yourselves in. You will receive further instructions when necessary. Acolyte Vestara, remain behind.”

Kory hesitated to leave, looking at me with concern, only to leave when I made a shooing motion and told her to make sure our room was ready for my arrival. The rest of the acolytes were already gone, fleeing the room with a haste that was undignified at the very least, and I met Harkun’s eyes straight on the moment we were alone.

                “I suppose you’re proud of yourself for removing your better from the competition through underhanded means.” He said finally, leaning against his desk and folding his arms over his chest, a faint thread of [Amusement] threading off of them. “The fact that Spindrall went along with it, despite Ffon reaching his chambers first, is even more impressive.”

                “I saved his life, nothing more or less. The fact that it removed him from the competition is a side-effect. I would have won the apprenticeship regardless.” I responded with casual confidence, shrugging my shoulders slightly, and he arched an eyebrow at me.

                “You are more competent than I imagined a slave acolyte could be, even one with your…past activities.” He conceded, which was a shocking enough that I couldn’t stop myself from reacting physically, something he noticed easily. Snorting, he shook his head. “Do not consider that praise, girl. Being better than the rest of the trash you arrived with doesn’t make you good or worth my time, never mind Lord Zash’s. But I fully expect to eventually inform her lordship that none of you survived the Trials, and for her to replace this slave-Sith insanity she is pursuing for proper acolytes.”

                “We will see, Overseer. I fully expect to become her apprentice and rise to heights that will leave you dizzy with awe.” I informed him with all the faith born from future knowledge, and he scoffed before waving his hand in dismissal and a muttered comment about me stinking up his office. Relieved and more than a little curious, I left quickly and with as much dignity as I could, intent on a sanisteam. Harkun might be an asshole, but he was right that I reeked, and getting clean so that I could examine my injuries seemed like a good idea. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Spindrall’s stockpile of first aid supplies, I might have been in significant trouble by now.

As I started to make my way through the corridors once again, following the thread of connection that bound Kory to me, a slight tug on my presence and a blue-white gleam at the corner of my eye told me that my ancestor had stepped into the physical realm once more, walking alongside me. Unseen by those around us, and I could feel him twist the Force into a veil that would keep anyone from noticing us speaking to one another.

                “You did well enough, my child, though the risks you took for the sake of that new concubine of yours were, perhaps, foolish for the value that she will give you.” Kallig started, hands folded behind his back. A protest began to form in my mind, only to be silenced as he waved a hand a bit tiredly. “Yes, yes, I know. You wished to change her fate, and you see a future for her, above and beyond simply being a plaything and bedwarmer. Well enough, but do not allow your confidence in the future and your desire to change it to blind you. You can break yourself saving a handful of lives and changing their fates, or you can focus on the greater goals and reshape the galaxy itself.”

                “You’re right, I shouldn’t over-reach, but if I abandon people as individuals in pursuit of goals spanning star systems…it will hollow me out. Make me little better than the Emperor himself, and in that case I might as well not bother trying to destroy him at all. Besides, what’s the point of changing everything if I am left all alone at the end of it?” I admitted, and he gave a low hum of consideration as he mulled over my words.

                “Perhaps so, and I acknowledge that you could hardly postpone changing her fate in particular, but there is a limit to what you can do at any given time, and there is a limit to how much you should try to do. Change only what you must, gather power and prestige, influence and allies, and watch the galaxy reshape itself according to your designs.” He advised firmly, and I half-bowed to him in respect to his far greater experience and wisdom. Looking satisfied, he continued in a lighter tone. “All of that being said, of course, that little plaything of yours promises to be enjoyable for you. With a minimum of training, she will make a fine outlet for your desires. Though I must insist that your first child be borne to someone of…more impressive power and pedigree. Even if only to ensure your heir is not easily usurped by their siblings.”

                “I wasn’t planning on knocking anyone up anytime soon, Grandfather, have no fear of that. Especially not someone in as precarious a position as Kory. It would probably just get her, or even both of us, killed.” I informed him dryly, blushing a little at the idea of having a kid already…even as I felt my cock harden at the idea of breeding my Kory. The amused look on his face told me he was well aware of how I felt about it, and I gave an aggrieved huff. “Just because I’m aroused at the idea, doesn’t mean I will take the risk. Can’t you go back to complaining about how much better the Sith Order was in your day and stop embarrassing me?”

                “Don’t get cheeky with me, child.” He chided, gently cuffing me across the back of the head with one gauntleted hand, radiating [Amusement] as I hissed at him in response and gently rubbed the abused bit of skull. Still, he relented and turned his attention to the world around us. “I have not been impressed thus far, I will confess. Though we of the Sith Order are not known for coddling our acolytes, there is a difference between coddling them and throwing them headlong into battle without even the slimmest of training efforts. It’s no more wise than handing a child a knife and expecting them to fight a terentatek. They say it is to weed out the weak, but again I say that there is a difference between lack of training and weakness.”

                “You won’t hear me arguing against that.” I agreed feelingly. The Empire had changed too late in canon, too late to survive the twin enemies of Zakuul and the Republic, and I had no intention of letting that happen again. And not out of some hatred for republics, quite the contrary. It was better for the Republic to have a star nation that was equal to it, but unaffiliated. A source of external pressure that could, perhaps, help prevent it from becoming the corrupt, inefficient, bureaucratic monolith it was during and after the Ruusan Reformation.

Though I had to admit I was less than confident about that, given the current Republic had external pressure and was still corrupt, inefficient, and excessively bureaucratic. And it didn’t even have a thousand years of the Sith Line of Bane messing with it in pursuit of their greater plan to blame for it, either. And let’s be honest, the likelihood that the Empire would last long enough to threaten the Republic of the Clone Wars was…minimal, to say the least, even with the changes I dreamed of making. Nations didn’t last that long, unbroken. Oh, ‘The Republic’ had, but in reality it had collapsed and rebuilt dozens of times over the intervening time. Simply having the same name and (sometimes) a similar enough government didn’t make it the same nation.

                “Hmm. Your rooms. I have no doubt you plan on entertaining yourself further with your concubine, and I rather desire to roam this world and see what has changed over the centuries. There is sufficient power flowing through this world to sustain me to the point that I can stand apart from you for a time.” His voice broke me from my thoughts, and I blinked over at him for a moment before nodding.

                “Have fun then, I guess?” I offered, before his words landed a bit more solidly and my expression turned lecherous. “I know I certainly will.”

                “Hpmh. I would comment on the lasciviousness of the youth, but I was little better in my life, regardless of age.” He grunted in amusement, turning and starting to walk away, shaking his head. “Do try not to break the poor girl, you will doubtlessly both have some manner of obligations to attend to tomorrow.”

He, and the Force-field (heh) that he had woven around us were gone before I could respond, leaving me alone at the door. Grinning in anticipation, I palmed the door control panel, stepping through as it quietly hissed open to admit me, and my grin broadened at the sound of the running sanisteam. It seemed Kory had decided to start cleaning herself up, and wouldn’t it be a shame to waste resources on a planet as dry as Korriban?

I stripped quickly and made my way towards the bathroom, rapidly-hardening cock bobbing eagerly as it led the way into the steam-filled space. Kory turned slightly, eyes widening briefly at the sight of me, a rosy blush staining her cheeks as she saw my arousal, before biting her lower lip and turning to face the pressurized steam spray again. I knew an invitation when I saw one, a feeling that only grew when she bent over to start lathering her legs, displaying her pussy in all it’s glory, and I had no intention whatsoever of ignoring it.

She gasped softly as I stepped up behind her, then moaned as I pressed myself against her back with one hand going to a cup her cunt while the other stroked it’s way up her stomach and over her breast to gently grip her throat. Her head fell back against my shoulder, half-rolling to the side and leaving the curve of her ear only a hairs-breadth from my lips.

                “None of the boys tried to give you any trouble when it came to our room?” I purred lowly, rubbing gentle circles around her clit, nibbling slightly on the soft skin of her lobe, and she shuddered in my grasp even as her head tried to shake.

                “No, none.” She breathed, whimpering as I flicked her clit, continuing a moment later after she caught her breath again. “None of them want to piss you off, especially not by looking like they were trying to take me from you.”

                “Wise of them. I’m very jealous when it comes to my women, I don’t like to share them with anyone outside of our little family. Mhm, I can’t wait to introduce you to Nicky and Kela. They’re just going to love playing with you, and I think you’ll enjoy their games as well.”

The smug satisfaction that seeped from every word would likely have had Nicky scoffing at me and Kela teasing me, but Kory just shuddered again, feeling equal parts nervous, anticipatory, and horny. That last emotion was one I could have guessed pretty easily without any cues, given how wet her pussy was getting, and what little self-control I had vanished as she moaned again. I took a step back, pulling her with me, the hand around her throat gliding around to press against the back of her neck, pushing gently but implacably.

Over she bent, the very action grinding her against my cock, her legs spreading automatically as she reached out to brace herself on the far wall, her spine bowing as she presented herself the best she could in a space this small.

                “Good girl.” I crooned, stroking gently along her spine from neck to tailbone, caressing the globe of her ass before smacking it sharply, getting a cry of mingled pain and arousal from her throat, her body rocking slightly from the blow and the three that followed it, before turning into a squeal as she rocked back one last time and found herself impaling her body on my cock. I groaned in utter satisfaction as her body swallowed me to the root, looking down to where her ass was flush with my stomach before giving her hip an encouraging smack. “Alright, you’re going to do all the work this time. You’re going to fuck yourself on my cock this time, so get those hips moving.”

She hesitated for barely a heartbeat, probably surprised that I wasn’t simply going to fuck her bowlegged again like I had in the tomb, before obeying. It was slow and awkward at first, her inexperience combined with the close quarters and poor position making it difficult, but within a minute or two she had found her rhythm and the real pleasure began.

The air was filled with the sound of her ass slapping against me, the moisture clinging to our skin magnifying every echoing note, the constant rhythm running underneath our moans and sighs, my encouragement and degradation and praise paired with her non-verbal whimpers and pleas and thanks. Lost in the haze of heat and hunger, painfully aroused and high on not only surviving but in accomplishing more goals in a handful of hours than I thought was possible, it didn’t take me long to flood Kory’s cunt with more than enough cum to replace what she had lost over the course of our trial. The sensations it gave her, and the subsequent orgasm that tore through her, had her legs giving out from under her, and I growled in discontent as she started to slip off my cock.

Well, I knew how to settle that, and unlike my original self, I was more than capable of following through on the easiest solution: looping my arms under her legs and lifting her into the air so that I could continue pounding into her in a standing full nelson. The shrieks and cries she gave in response were music to my ears, and I briefly wondered if they carried outside of our room before deciding that I couldn’t care less and kept fucking the woman in my arms.

By the time we finally left the restroom, Kory had been stuffed with enough cum to gurantee a pregnancy if it wasn’t for the inhibitors we were both equipped with, and was barely capable of forming a coherent sentence, never mind walking under her own power. Carrying her to bed was something of a challenge given the amount of space I had to work with, but the reward (her curled up on her side with her back as deeply pressed into the spooned curve of my torso as I could get) was more than worth it. The pride I felt in my accomplishment was immense, more than enough to have me basking in the satisfaction like a particularly pleased cat, and I let my pleasure pour into the Force as I settled in for a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow would be a challenge, no doubt, but with Kory to help me in the field and in managing my stress, I was confident it would all go quite smoothly indeed.

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Chapter Text

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Crown of Slaves

Chapter Sixteen

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My ancestor hadn’t been wrong that Kory and I had obligations to deal with the day after our arrival, but fortunately for me (and far, far more so my cute little plaything, sore and limping after a night of helping me christen our dorm room) it wasn’t anything particularly physical. Instead, it was lectures and lessons, predominantly (at the moment) in Imperial and Sith culture, as well as Sith Philosophy, as opposed to something useful like how to fly a speeder bike.

Evidently, while passing Spindrall’s test had proven we were worthy of living a little while longer, the Order wasn’t quite interested in giving us the means to escape or endanger the Academy quite yet. Which was probably a reasonable decision, if I was going to be perfectly honest, and it made sense that our privileges and education would expand in equal step to our advancement through the trials. Which is to say, the deeper we were drawn into the cult of the Sith Order, the more ‘trusted’ we would become.

Of course, the most enjoyable part of the whole thing was that the Philosophy classes were shared equally by all students (I could hear echoes of Baras complaining to the Sith Warrior that the first few months were meant to be dedicated to such things), which meant I got to fuck with the pureblood, noble-born students on behalf of all the slave acolytes. In fact, when the current ranting idiot (a human that definitely had some Sith Pureblood heritage, judging by his facial structure and slightly tinted skin) wrapped things up, I planned on doing exactly that. Again.

                “…Sith are the only people that hold any power within the Empire, as it should be. Even the greatest Imperial kneels to the lowest Sith, and the slaves,” here, he shot myself and the other slave acolytes a vicious smirk, glee radiating off of him as many of them quailed, only to falter slightly as I gave him a grin and a wink. “are lower than animals. Useful only for labor and entertainment.”

                “If we’re lower than animals and he wants to fuck us, does that mean he routinely has sex with the family pets too?” I asked Kory in an exaggerated whisper, the sound carrying across the room as it was meant to, and many voices chuckled as the two of us gave him synchronized looks of disgust. “Ugh. I knew some of them pureblood dynasties had gotten a bit strange, but really, there should be some limits. Besides, you’re as wrong as you are depraved.”

There was a much louder, and broader, wave of chuckles at that as the man paled and purpled with fury, but whatever he wanted to say or do in response was cut off before it could even begin by our teacher for the class, an aged Inquisitor that I vaguely remembered from one of the old Group Quests back when the game had first come out. Something about a blood ritual chamber underneath the Academy?

                “And what about his words are wrong, Acolyte Khai? Do the Sith not rule the Empire? Are the Imperials not our servants, are not the slaves the very bottom of our society? You more than most should be aware of this fact.” She pointed out, much to the amusement and satisfaction of the higher-born members of the class, and I nodded amiably.

                “Yes, I am, which is why I have a firmer grasp of reality than he seems to.” I agreed with a beatific smile, thinking quite fondly in that moment of my conversations with Kela and Nicky. “The Empire is a meritocratic theocracy, of course he’s right about that. On flimsy the Sith rule with absolute power by what amounts to divine right, and the Imperials have their own ranking system socially and militarily below us, and slaves at the very bottom. Practically speaking, however, that’s not the case. This is the straightforward view of a child.”

Hmm, quite a few of them didn’t like that, but the Inquisitor seemed more interested than angry as she gestured for me to continue, which I took to be a good sign.

                “In reality, if a Sith of our rank, or even a somewhat fresh apprentice to the average Lord, tried to go up against a ranking Imperial, it wouldn’t end well for the Sith. Even the average Lord themselves, trying to go up against someone like Moff Kilran, would very quickly find themselves very dead, with the fact that they are Sith mattering not at all. Likewise, the slave of a ranking Sith, say someone like Darth Marr, would out-rank not only all other slaves, but quite a few freeborn. Can anyone person in this room imagine receiving a command on Darth Marr’s behalf, and refusing it simply because the person delivering it is a slave?”

                “That’s hardly a common circumstance. Darth Marr is a Dark Councilor, and the slave is acting on his behalf, rather than it’s own. In such an example, the slave is nothing more than a conduit for Darth Marr’s will, no more important to the process than a commlink would be.”  A young woman’s voice called from somewhere behind and to the left of me, and I nodded in agreement.

                “That’s true, it’s not a perfect example, but the fact of the matter is that our esteemed classmate was dealing with absolutes. All things being equal, yes, the Sith outrank the Imperials. But life is rarely equal, especially in the Empire. A person with sufficient power doesn’t need to follow any of the typical social or cultural constraints so long as they do not run afoul of someone with more power than themselves…whether that power is immediately obvious or not.” I returned, lips quirking at the oblique reference to my own recent past. “The way of the Sith, the way of the Empire, is to gain strength through your own means and to wield it to gain more. In doing so, we free ourselves. Whether from literal chains or the chains of a cultural hierarchy, it’s freedom either way.”

                “Besides, without slaves and Imperials, the Empire wouldn’t exist. No armies, no fleets, no merchants. No industry or labor force. The Force is amazing, but I don’t think even The Dark Council could use the Force to build a battlecruiser.” Kory added from beside me, quietly enough that I wasn’t sure whether she actually intended to be heard, but it was loud enough to carry across most of the room all the same.

                “Neither of you understand. You’re slaves. The Sith are pure power, designed and ordained by the Sith to rule the galaxy. Your delusions of grandeur…” another pureblood started to argue, and I cut them off with a scoff and a self-directed wave of the hand.

                “I understand more than you ever could, blue-blood. You do remember why I’m here, don’t you? I led a revolt on Dromuund Kaas itself, one Lord Marr and his apprentice were required to stop.” I reminded the room at large, enjoying the immensely polarized reactions that resulted from said reminder, and Kory (apparently emboldened by the bulwark of my presence) chimed in.

                “She’s right. Her passion, her strength, broke her chains. Ves took for herself what she deserved, her freedom, by the strength of her own hands, her own will. She earned what she has because of her own merits. She’s living proof of Imperial philosophy.” She added a bit fiercely, which was honestly adorable and I couldn’t wait to reward her for it later tonight. “Being given power just because of your ancestors, just because of what family you were born into, that’s what other places do. We’re supposed to be better than them, stronger than them. Giving power when it’s earned.”

                “Nepotism weakens the Empire. It’s the sort of thing the Republic does.” I agreed, giving her a gentle stroke along her spine, and the Inquisitor in charge of the lesson folded her hands behind her back as she looked around the room.

                “An interesting argument. Unusual, compared to those typically made within these halls.” She mused, before smirking in the vaguely sadistic way all teachers seem innately capable of doing when they think of an assignment that they know their students will loathe. “Well now, thanks to Acolyte Khai, I have the perfect assignment for you all. I expect ten-thousand words from each of you, covering the strengths and weaknesses her arguments and observations, with examples where applicable. And yes, Khai, that includes you. I expect yours to be particularly detailed.”

                “Yes, Inquisitor.” We dutifully chorus, some of us more enthusiastically than others, to her visible amusement.

                “Very good. In that case, you are dismissed to your next duty, whatever that might be.” She waved at us with him hand, an instant before her desk-top chronometer beeped softly to indicate the end of the lesson, a lifetime of teaching apparently having given her one hell of an internal clock. Getting to our feet and gathering our class supplies, we started filing out amidst the idle chatter of…well, all the usual subjects, really. For all that we were in a previously-fictional galaxy, people were people, chatting about class, lunch, upcoming tests, who was sleeping with who…it was almost nostalgic, if I was going to be honest.

Of course, it wasn’t all fun and games torturing my classmates with existential questions that would, if they had the capacity and the courage to think for themselves, cause them to question all of the biases that they had been so resolutely clinging to. My ancestor was taking no pity on me, unimpressed as he was with the training Korriban was providing, and was giving me my own ‘assignments’ to do during my off-time. Primarily consisting of training meant to increase the speed and potency with which I could summon the Force, which was all well and good, but it was grueling. Not to mention the fact that it was almost always followed by saber katas, a combination that exhausted me to the point that I nearly didn’t have the energy required to play with my Kory every night.

Nearly.

#####################################################

Just over a month into our time on Korriban, our next trial finally took place, and I was immensely grateful for it. Trying to catch up on a lifetime’s worth of basic education was a hell of a thing at my age, and there was only just so much entertainment I could get from tweaking the nose of the rich and powerful brats that were my classmates.

                “Ah, Acolyte, you’ve arrived, and not a moment to soon. How wonderful.” The, hmm, husky Inquisitor Zyn greeted me as I swept over the threshold and into the room set aside for my trial, a quick glance to my side confirming that Alif was here, chained down to the torture table as he had been in the game. “I was beginning to fear that you were going to prove Overseer Harkun’s claims about you correct.”

                “Hardly. Overseer Harkun seems to take issue with my every breath, never mind the way I complete my trials. I’m sure I’ll annoy him with how I deal with this one too.” I responded airily, making a shooing away motion with one hand as if to dismiss the very idea of Harkun from the room. “Of course, the harder he tries to prevent me from becoming Sith, the more inspired I am to prove him wrong, and the more satisfying my inevitable victory will be.”

                “Hmm. Perhaps. I look forward to seeing if you can succeed.” He sounded quite amused by my claim, tilting his head slightly in a gesture of dismissal before continuing. “At any rate, he gave me quite explicit instructions in regards to you. Since you were once a slave, you are unfamiliar with and inexperienced in the ways of interrogation and control. You must be properly educated in the harsher side of the Sith Order.”

                “I know plenty, about the harsh side of the Sith, Inquisitor, more than most still living…” I started, but a pulse of his presence in the Force, not to mention his verbal interjection, cut me off quite quickly.

                “I have no doubt that you do, Acolyte, but do mind your tone. Frankly put, my concern is with your ability to gather information and carry out your duties by whatever means are most expedient and empowering for the Empire.” He rebuked me with a disturbing level of evenness, folding his hands behind his back and regarding me steadily. “As such, your duty is to extract information from this Acolyte. A short while ago, there was an ‘unauthorized murder’ here in the Academy. One acolyte butchering another, not in the course of completing a trial in the tombs, but in these sacred halls themselves. This acolyte purportedly knows the individual responsible. Make him tell you what we wish to know.”

                “Fine, but if you’re hoping for me to torture him or make him scream, you’re out of luck.” I acknowledged, knowing full well that such a thing was guaranteed to disappoint him. He was a torture fetishist, after all, who had risen to his rank and taken this position specifically because it allowed him to indulge in his desire to savour in the screams he pulled from the throats of people like Alif. “There are more effective ways to get an honest answer than torture, especially from a fellow Sith.”

                “Already you disappoint me, Acolyte, but torture was not given as a requirement. So long as you complete the task successfully, I am obliged to confirm as such to Overseer Harkun.” He sighed, radiating displeasure into the Force, as well as honesty. “Perhaps these ‘more effective ways’ will prove to be a mildly entertaining diversion.”

I rather doubted it, but confirmation that I could be a ‘nice girl’ like in the game was enough of a victory for me. There was a limit to how much villainy I was willing to indulge in, and torturing a man when I could get the same information without it was on the other side of that limit.

Besides, being a decent human being to Alif could be quite beneficial to me, in a world without the limitations of quest writing. It was the same reason I had gone to the effort of trying to save Ffon’s life. Having other Sith owe me debts was likely to prove only useful in the future.

                “Please, don’t hurt me! I already told the Inquisitor everything I know about the murder! Which is nothing! I didn’t see anything, I didn’t hear anything, I can’t tell you anything!” Alif pleaded in instant I approached him, and I gave a short bark of laughter, shaking my head.

                “There was a proverb, back home. That depicted three monkeys. One covers his eyes, one covers his ears, and the third covers his mouth. The Three Wise Monkeys, they were called, ironically. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. They represented the cowardice of ignoring bad acts and impropriety, of turning a blind eye and the damage it brings to all parties, to society at large.” I mused thoughtfully, pulling a chair over with the Force and taking a seat, crossing my legs and enjoying the bafflement on Alif’s face. “Amusing, isn’t it. You did just that within a single breath of me standing before you. Which, by the way, only makes me more suspicious. Of course, I have no intention of torturing the information out of you, only talking to you.”

                “Talking? Talking?!” he snapped a bit shrilly, and I rather had the impression that he would throw his hands up in the air if it wasn’t for the fact that he was strapped down. “Do you think I’m going to fall for that?! Don’t make me laugh! You’re an Acolyte, just like I am, here for a Trial! I heard the Inquisitor talking to you! You’re trying to become a Sith, just like me! The only thing we do is violence and pain and power!”

                “Violence and pain have their place, Alif, but so does pragmatism. If I torture you, you will tell me what I want to hear, which isn’t necessarily the truth. I need the name to pass my trial, the Inquisitor must learn who committed the crime, and you want to live.” I explained calmly. “If I fail to get the information from you gently, someone is going to have to get it rather more unpleasantly, which will probably be fatal for you. So give me a name, because you and I both know that you know who is responsible, and you’re not trained enough to lie to me without the Inquisitor and I sensing it in The Force.”

                “Heh. They really did pull you right out of slavery, didn’t they? I heard the Overseers talking about your pool. You’re so different from everyone else here. Force, you’re not even lying to me.” He sighed, slumping slightly in his force-field shackles, and despite his reluctance I could feel an upswell of bitter relief wafting off of him. Knowing the truth was weighing heavily on him, and keeping it secret heavier still. “Fine. I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep the killer away from me. I’m willing to risk death in the trials, but being murdered by a classmate and having his master’s reputation ensure he doesn’t get punished is something else entirely.”

“You have my word, I will do everything in my power, and more, to keep you safe. Who was the rogue?” I urged, ignoring the disbelief that was leaking out from around Zyn’s shields at my apparently imminent success.

“Strange as it is to hear, coming from another Acolyte, I actually believe you…and I appreciate it. Esorr Kayin, that’s the man you want. He murdered his victim in the surveillance blind-spot outside of the library in the east wing, on the second floor. The victim outperformed him on the philosophical examinations and mock negotiations. His master is incredibly powerful and won’t allow him to be punished. You have to keep them away from me, please!” he told me, firmly at the beginning but begging again at the end, and I got to my feet with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Alif. I’m a woman of my word. I’ll see to your safety, and put the Overseers onto Kayin’s trail. One way or another, he’ll suffer for it.” I reassured him, patting his shoulder as I turned away, padding towards the brooding Inquisitor, who waved a hand in a sharp gesture of negation as I approached.

“You don’t need to say the name, Acolyte, I heard it all too clearly. Sensed the truth in the boy’s words as well, though I really rather wish that I hadn’t. Kayin’s grand-master is a member of the Dark Council. Punishing him would be impossible, it would never be permitted.” He said brusquely, looking less than pleased with the situation, and I raised my eyebrows in only partially-feigned disbelief.

“I thought the laws of the Academy were absolute, inviable, sacrosanct. That those who passed the Trials were allowed to proceed, and those that broke the rules were punished for it?”

“As written, that is true, even for someone with connections to the Dark Council. In practice, neither I nor any of the Overseers have any interest in disappearing some dark evening and spending the rest of our very short lives in indescribable agony.” He retorted, sounding almost exasperated with what he doubtlessly saw as foolish and naïve idealism on my part. Which was fair, it’s not like he was entirely wrong. “The Sith way is the way of power, acolyte, as you very well know from your little lecture in your Philosophy class. Yes, we all know about that. Did you not say that sufficient power and influence allows one to act outside of the rules, outside of social and cultural dictates? Then do not complain when that very thing takes place!”

“There is a difference between a conversation of social hierarchy based on birthright in the face of personal power and influence, and a discussion on the matter of adherence to the law!” I retorted, caught off guard both by his entirely fair point and by the fact that he, and apparently the rest of the staff, was aware enough of my words to be able to make it in the first place. “How can the Sith be strong, how can the Empire be strong, if we cannot even adhere to and enforce our own laws? We are meant to be a nation of merit, not nepotism. That sort of corrupt, incompetent indolent nonsense is for the Republic, not for us!”

                “Mind your tongue, Acolyte. This is not one of your Philosophy classes, and I am not so amused by you as Overseer Ragate, and even if that were not the case, such things are dangerous to say. The Empire does not always embody it’s ideals, something you should be well aware of, save for one: that power is absolute.” His tone wasn’t sharp, still the same even apathy as before, but the words were sharp, and his presence in The Force bit and lashed at my own in a display of his displeasure. “Now, you have retrieved the information as promised and required, so I shall send my approval on to Harkun as agreed.”

                “And what about Alif? He provided valuable information, risking his life to do so. We cannot simply allow Kayin, or someone aligned with him, to kill him as a reward!” I pressed, determined to succeed, and Zyn actually sighed in annoyance.

“Matters outside your concern and responsibility are best left to others, acolyte. I would advise you to put such things out of your mind and focus upon your own duties, lest you get yourself killed for it.”

                “So, an Inquisitor of the Empire, assigned to holy Korriban herself, shall simply stand by and allow the sacred laws and traditions of our Academy, the Academy he is assigned to keep pure, to be defiled freely because of an upstart brat?

The words were needling, dangerous for someone in my position, but fortunately for me he seemed more inclined to address them rather than simply kill or hurt me for my impudence.

                “And what would you suggest, hmm? I cannot contend with the lineage of a Dark Council member, Inquisitor or not, nor can you, Acolyte. Yes, I have my duties to perform, but Acolyte Alif is already a lost cause. Better to cut free the corpse and continue my duties.”

                “Triage? That is your reasoning? Sacrifice Alif and continue your assigned tasks to aid more in the long run? How noble and selfless, Inquisitor.”

                “Your impudence is beginning to grate, Acolyte, even as amusing as I find it. I could, perhaps, let it be known that he has refused to break while the murdered acolyte’s master seeks justice himself. Harkun does not know whom I was going to have you interrogate, so the deception may hold long enough for things to come to a head.”

                “A risky proposition. Could you send him off-world? Get him assigned to a Sith elsewhere, if he has already completed his trials?”

                “Ah? Hmm, perhaps you are correct. An old compatriot of mine, a Darth of Dromuund Kaas, could use another assistant. But I warn you, once he is off Korriban, I shall have nothing further to do with him. If he cannot perform, that is his own problem, and he will suffer the consequences.”

                “I would not ask otherwise. This situation happened because of another’s failings. From here, what happens will be due to his own. I am grateful.”

                “Hmph. You have an unusual approach, acolyte, especially for one with your background. I expected you to come in and delight to plucking every scream from the boy that you could, as so many other slave acolytes have since it has been permitted for them to attend the Academy. To relish every agony and exert every ounce of domination and control that you can.”

“If I was a broken, short-sighted fool, you would be correct. Indeed, that is what I did when I killed my former Master and his soldiers, and I nearly lost my life for it. Do you know why I did things this way, Inquisitor?”

                “In order to ensure a truthful answer, I believe, based on what you said to him. An unusual approach, and one I could almost approve of, were it not unpleasantly Jedi-like in its gentleness.”

                “Please, don’t insult me, Inquisitor. It is pragmatism. If Alif does well, I will have another Sith deeply in my debt, a debt I can draw on at my leisure. That he will be serving a Darth on the Capitol itself only reinforces the future benefit of my decision. To be Sith is to pursue power, Inquisitor, and there is greater and more enduring power to be found in securing alliances and enforcing allegiances than mindless, petty cruelties.”

He looked surprised at that, regarding me with a very different expression on his face, and I could sense reluctant approval in The Force as he inspected me, before finally nodding and waving a hand at the door in a gesture of dismissal I wouldn’t be foolish enough to ignore again.

                “You impress me, acolyte. I do not know that I entirely believe you, nor will I rush to adopt your methods, but it seems you are not weak-willed, but capable of planning ahead. Perhaps you have a future amongst the Empire and our order after all. Go, return to your Overseer. I will send my commendation along shortly.”

I wasn’t going to push my luck any further than I already had, so I departed as quickly and politely as possible with a bow and a murmur of my thanks, a broad smile creasing my lips the moment I was out of the room, and I could only barely resist punching the air with my fist. Another hurdle successfully cleared, and arguably the most difficult one as well, since the other trials relied considerably more on force (and Force) than this one did.

Unsurprisingly, Harkun was less than pleased that I had passed again, and even unhappier about the fact that Niloc had gone missing. Presumably because he hadn’t been able to sate his murder-boner just yet.

                “Now, Lord Zash has decreed that your trials happen as quickly as possible, within the bounds laid down by the Dark Council for slave acolytes. Your next will take place in exactly one week, so I suggest that you prepare yourselves as much as possible if you want to survive, because I assure you that failure will be punished quite fatally.” He warned ominously, and my eyes narrowed slightly, mind racing. It wasn’t surprising, I suppose, that Zash would try to move as quickly as possible. She believed I was prophesized to succeed, for one thing, and for another time was quickly running out for her. It’s not like she needed, or wanted, me to be more trained than absolutely necessary.

On the plus side, trying to rush me through meant, that Kory should be okay. I was the only one Zash really cared about, and after I found the holocron for her, it would likely be easy to make sure Zash saw things my way in regards to my cinnamon roll.

To my amusement, and some relief, he didn’t bother holding me back this time, instead banishing us all from his presence without anything further. The more power to him, I suppose, and less stress on my shoulders. Though I had to admit, if time was going to be kept so short in between trials…I didn’t think too highly of my chances at fighting Khem Val as things stood. I had power, plenty of it, and more training than most, but fighting a being whose entire purpose, biological bias, and profession was hunting, killing, and devouring Force users…well, that was something else entirely.

                “C’mon, Ves, let’s head back to the dorms and wash up. I want an early night tonight, I’m exhausted.” Kory, who was rather more gore-covered than I was after a day of clearing out tuk’ata and k’lor slugs, begged as she tugged slightly on my arm, and I yielded to that demand without hesitation. An early night in sounded perfect, especially if it meant a shower and bed with Kory. “Meanwhile, I want to tell you all about this other Apprentice I meant. Her Lord is a madman, really, and I couldn’t do anything to help her, but…”

As we walked and she talked, I marveled at how…happy I was. How pleased I was to be here, how much I was enjoying being on Korriban. How comfortable it all felt.

Dangerous thinking, that. It could get me killed.

#################################################################

Chapter Text

I should have known better than to tempt Lady Fate, for though she was beautiful, she was terrible in her beauty, and known to take confident statements of security as an invitation to cause me as much trouble as possible…which, given the situation I was in, was quite a bit.

                “Hmm, you must be the little one’s leash holder. Overseer Harkun told me about you.” Inquisitor Arzanon greeted me with a scrutinizing stare, giving Kory barely a glance, folding his hands behind his back as his subordinate (couldn’t remember her name, and frankly didn’t care) scanned a group of shackled acolytes with some manner of device. “Acolyte Kory is assigned to assist me in hunting a group of heretical, traitorous acolytes. You are not permitted to interfere. You may not help her, protect her, ‘happen across’ her fighting any traitors disinclined to submitting to the Inquisition, or anything of the sort. In fact, I am going to watch you take one of those aircars into the Wilds for your next Trial, and I had better not see you for the rest of the day.”

                “Inquisitor, you wound me. I’m offended by the implication that I would manipulate the trials of another acolyte in an untoward way.” I responded with a moue of disappointment and dismay. “Inquisitor Harkun simply has a grudge against me because I stopped him from getting an innocent pureblood acolyte slaughtered by an angry Lord Zash. I would have thought such patriotism would be appreciated, not bring this sort of unjustified suspicion.”

                “None of that is relevant to me, nor do I care. The request was to ensure Acolyte Kory received no assistance from you whatsoever, and I see little reason to deny his request. Your very nature makes you suspect, and while Darth Marr seems inclined to allow you here, it is my responsibility and duty to mistrust you until you proof yourself worthy.” He flapped a hand in dismissal both of my words and my presence, and I huffed softly in aggravation before turning my attention to my Kory.

                “Be careful, Kory. We’ve been working hard, but I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you what someone who is cornered will do, especially not when the other option is the Inquisition getting their hands on them. Be as subtle as you can, and call on nearby loyal acolytes for help if needed.” I instructed her, and she nodded hesitantly before opening her mouth, a swirl of emotions in her presence, and I put my finger on her lips. “I don’t want to hear some sort of romantic expression of gratitude, some sort of emotional preparation to say good-bye. You will survive, you will return here, you will wait for me victorious? I will not permit you to die, you are not permitted to leave me. Do you understand me?”

                “…yes, ma’am.” She yielded, nodding in acceptance of my demand, warmth kindling in her heart at my continuing determination to protect her. After a moment, she leaned up and pressed her lips against my own in a long, lingering kiss, before squaring her shoulders and marching up to the Inquisitor, inclining her head respectfully. “Give me my trial, Inquisitor. I’m ready to succeed.”

I didn’t linger any further, not wanting to aggravate the Inquisitor, instead making my way over to the waiting air-car and sliding in for the flight to the Lower Wilds. A flight that took considerably longer than it did in the game, perhaps unsurprisingly, and to my consternation this reality didn’t seem inclined to take me directly to the landing pad near Lord Renning, instead depositing me in the northern end of the valley like the game had done when it was first released. Which meant I would have to fight my way to Renning and Malora, and then fight my way to the Tomb of Marka Ragnos from there.

How annoying.

                “Ho there, acolyte!” a voice called almost the instant that I disembarked, and I looked across the landing pad to see another acolyte flagging me down. Frowning, wondering if I had forgotten something important from the game, I cautiously made my way over to him. “Acolyte Krevan, of Lord Veracen’s pool.”

                “Acolyte Khai, Darth Zash.” I returned the greeting, such as it was, with semi-comfortable familiarity. I had quickly learned, as I had interacted more and more with my fellow acolytes since arriving here, that it was considered standard behavior to introduce yourself by surname and by the name of the Lord you were trying to earn the favor of. Apparently, it helped cut down on backstabbing, since it helped rivals avoid (or find, on occasion) those that were more directly in competition with them. An oddly sensible system, for the Sith.

                “Well met. Listen, Lord Veracen is running low on acolytes, and lower on temper and patience. Help me get back through the valley and cover me while I collect some bone marrow from the tuk’ata, and there’s three hundred credits with your name on them.” He offered without a moment of hesitation, and I didn’t hesitate to accept. It was no skin off my nose, I was heading that way anyway, and three hundred credits (while, admittedly, nothing compared to the money I had through my Nicky) was certainly nothing to sneer at.

I had to give Krevan due credit, I realized quickly. For all that his goal was to get himself safely into a laboratory for the Sphere of Biotic Sciences, where he wouldn’t have to bother with all of that fighting nonsense interrupting his experiments (his words, not mine), he was a very competent fighter. Then again, if he had survived this long in the acolyte pool for the man that was Renning’s partner in his insane and fruitless experiments, some competency was probably a requirement.

                “Malora, that is Lord Renning’s apprentice by the way, might have something for you to do as well. Renning likes to keep her close, so she likely has tasks she needs completed that she hasn’t been able to deal with herself in the brief times she can get away.” He told me about halfway through the trek, uncaring of the blood spraying across him or the brain-tearing, high-pitched whine that the marrow extractor made as it messily bored its way into the tuk’ata’s thigh bone.

I had to wonder at his phrasing. In the game, Malora had been pretty damn upfront about how unhappy she was under Renning’s ‘guidance’, but this was reality, not a game. Not to mention the fact that in the game, you were a total stranger who was passing bye, not (like Krevan was) a well known and close at hand coworker. Then again, the fact that she likely did know Krevan well could quite easily explain why she might gripe to him to begin with. And he was only an acolyte, so she probably figured she could kill him if she had to. Pragmatic to a fault, was our Malora.

                “Well, as long as whatever she needs my help with doesn’t interfere with my own tasks and trials, I am certainly willing to hear her out. A few extra credits is always nice, and who knows what else she can offer.” I responded, before pausing thoughtfully. “Is she pretty?”

                “Is she…? Really, Khai, is that your focus? How pretty she is?” he asked me, incredulous, and I shrugged shamelessly, making a waving gesture with my right hand, silently urging him to answer, and he rolled his eyes. “Pretty enough, I suppose. It’s hard for anyone to look ‘pretty’ after a few weeks camping out down here in the wilds.”

                “Hmm. Interesting. Always nice to help a pretty girl, especially a fellow Sith. They’re so creative.” I mused thoughtfully as we started walking again, ignoring his muttering as he followed after me. I had no intention of making Malora one of mine in the long-term, neither as a constant bed-mate and submissive plaything like Kory nor a bride like Lana, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy myself and experiment a little while I was here.

Besides, it might be fun to indulge a little in more ‘Sithy’ behavior than I was usually wont to do. I may not be a cackling maniac, or remotely interested in eating the galaxy, but I certainly wasn’t a particularly pure-hearted person either. Some fun and games with someone I would likely never see again seemed like a fun diversion from the stresses of Korriban.

And if she did get a little addicted, well, she did become somewhat useful later on in the game, didn’t she? So it was hardly a bad thing if she became a bit more pliable to my desires or suggestions when the time came.

##############################################################

Malora, apprentice to the thoroughly insane Lord Renning, was wondering why she had ever agreed to being this babbling lunatic’s apprentice. It wasn’t like he had been the only man offering to take her under his wing, and some of the others had at least been decent-looking. Instead, she not only had stopped learning anything particularly useful months ago, but the fat bastard still fucked her whenever he felt particularly ‘inspired’ or ‘successful’.

Getting fucked by their master, or lent out, or by a ranking Imperial or more powerful apprentice…that was all something that any Sith was familiar with. It was nothing more than another expression of power, of influence and strength, and the wisest learned how to wield those circumstances deftly enough to turn the tables. To rise above those using them and use the users instead.

Unfortunately, none of that applied because the man using her was fucking useless! She gained nothing from letting his filthy cock inside of her, and the chances she had for a more enjoyable encounter were rare. She wasn’t desperate enough to take a tumble with someone too far beneath her standards, slim pickings or not, and most of the acolytes she saw were slim pickings indeed.

She just needed to find a way to get away from Renning, as quickly as possible. Preferably with all of her limbs intact, but at this point she’d be willing to take a prosthetic or two if it would mean being able to actually advance her studies and delve deeper into her fields of interest.

She was drawn from her thoughts by a pulse in the Force, and she looked up to see a pair of acolytes rounding the corner of the ancient cliff-borne walls separating the Upper and Lower Valleys, a pile of freshly-made tuk’ata corpses behind them as they headed straight for her master’s little encampment. Well, that was nice. Renning would have demanded she capture or kill the beasts within the next few hours anyway, to make sure that the ‘unmodified vermin’ couldn’t get near his experiments.

One of them was Veracen’s likely future apprentice, Krevan. Competant enough, but narrow-minded. In the face of Renning’s madness, and Veracen’s willingness to play along with it, he had become sadly conservative in his visions of the future and experimentation. Unlike she herself, who was more than willing -eager, even- to explore the unknown and the esoteric, much like their masters, but simply unwilling to throw good credits after bad.

Pressing when the answers grew hazy was one thing, obsessing over a fruitless branch of research was entirely another.

At any rate, whoever his new friend was, she seemed competent, and was practically roiling with Force energy. One of the slave acolytes, Malora would wager, given her clothing, though she was certainly both more beautiful and more powerful than the others that she had encountered since Darth Marr had instituted the new program. Better trained too, and more naturally talented, that much was obvious from her gait and bearing. She had poise, she had grace, things that slaves were not particularly famed for.

The stranger and Krevan exchanged a few words before splitting up, Krevan hastening to deliver a handful of samples to Veracen while the stranger headed for Renning, who was once again practically cooing over the corpse of one of his experiements. Insane fat fuck.

                “Welcome back, Krevan. Interesting new friend you’ve found. A free fuck from a slave acolyte during a trial? Tsk, tsk.” She mocked lightly as the man in question approached her, having been shoed away from the equipment-laden tables as Veracen set about preparing the samples for analysis.

                “Not bloody likely.” Krevan scoffed immediately, shaking his head as he leaned against one of the (thankfully empty) cages beside her, watching the stranger speak with Renning. “Not that she is pretty, you understand, but I’d rather not wake up with a slit throat. And rumor has it she’s more than just a woman, if you take my meaning.”

                “I don’t, given I don’t get to involve myself in the gossip nearly as much as you do.” Malora responded dryly, though she couldn’t deny a bit of curiosity. Krevan was hardly different from most Sith, men especially, and rarely resisted the opportunity to get his dick wet.

                “That’s Vestara Khai, from Zash’s pool.” He said, as if it explained everything, and he clearly had expected it to as well, judging by his tone and expression. When she didn’t respond, simply staring at him with an arched eyebrow, he groaned in exasperation and ran a hand over his face. “Vestara Khai? The slave that led a rebellion on Dromuund Kaas? Impressed Darth Marr enough that he sent her here? Has made one of the other acolytes in her pool into her pet? Apparently has a cock created by Sith Alchemy that can put any natural man to shame? Does none of this ring a bell for you?”

                “Only vaguely. I knew that there was something different about one or two of the slave acolytes, and I knew Darth Marr was paying particular attention to things, but nothing more than that. I didn’t consider it remarkable, given Darth Marr is the one that started the program.” She responded, shrugging lightly, eying the silver-haired acolyte with rather more interest than she had not minutes earlier. She certainly sounded interesting, and Krevan had only indicated that he was unsure about Khai’s supposed cock, of all the things he had claimed about her, which was interesting. “She any good?”

                “Deadly, powerful. Seems to know what she’s doing, though it’s still fairly obvious that she didn’t receive comprehensive basic training before being sent here. If I had to guess, she knows what she had to figure out for her rebellion, and everything else has only been studied or learned since she got here.” He answered, before straightening up as Khai turned towards them and started to approach. “Told her you might need her help with a few things. She might be as useful to you as she was to me.”

                “Can I help you with something, acolyte?” she asked once she was in ear shot, and she couldn’t help but smirk at the way she blatantly looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her breasts. She wasn’t wearing the most flattering of outfits, of course, given the environment and the circumstances, but she knew that she looked good, and it was apparent that Khai agreed with her. Good, that would make her more pliable.

She barely noticed as Krevan huffed under his breath and ambled off towards the camp’s food supplies.

                “Oh, I imagine that there are many things that you and I can help one another with, apprentice.” Khai responded with a low rumble, eyes dark with interest as she inspected her again, and Malora cocked a hip out, feeling heat kindling in her core as the acolyte’s eyes zeroed in on her. Then she sighed heavily, visibly disappointed. “Unfortunately, I must make my way into the Tomb of Marka Ragnos, to retrieve a holocron from a monument there as part of my trials for Lord Zash.”

Ohh, that was convenient, wasn’t it? Not only was this acolyte the lustful sort, but she was heading in a convenient direction for Malora’s own goals. They would definitely be able to reach some sort of arrangement, and for such a low price as well. Best not to appear to eager at the start, though…

                “The Tomb of Marka Ragnos, you say?” she hummed folding her arms under her breasts (ever-so-coincidentally pushing them up) while nibbling on her bottom lip in a way that long practice had told her most men and women found alluring. “My Master was looking for someone to help him with something there. Speak with Lord Renning, than come back to me, hmm? There’s quite the reward in store for you if you help me.”

                “Yes, he told me. A mutant tuk’ata, he said, that will reveal all the secrets of the Dark Side to him as he dissects it. Seems like a rather impressive claim to make, if you ask me, but then the Biotic Sciences are far from being my field of expertise.” The acolyte confirmed, and Malora grinned internally as the woman’s eyes slowly traced her body again. It had been quite some time since someone so blatantly and repeatedly took in her looks, and she was rather enjoying it.

                “You mean my master is insane. I accepted apprenticeship under him because he was one of the foremost minds in The Sphere of Biotic Science, but since then he has become obsessed, fanatical, in his beliefs that he can somehow achieve perfect unity with the Dark Side by studying the brains of tuk’ata of all things.” She responded bluntly, and the acolyte grimaced slightly, shooting a glance at first Renning, then Veracen, before stepping closer to respond.

                “Yes. I would perhaps understand his beliefs more if it was a sinspawn or terentatek or something of the sort, but tuk’ata? I mean, I understand that they can supposedly sustain themselves on nothing but the Dark Side itself, but still…rank madness. What is your point?” she confirmed quietly, shaking her head in what seemed to be genuine bafflement, and she hummed for a moment.

                “He wants you to bring him the brain of his latest experiment. Bring it to me first instead. I have been doing some research in my own time, experimentation, and have created a compound that will damage the brain in a way not immediately obvious. I will then report him to the Dark Council. He will be disposed of, my apprenticeship will be back on track, and his madness will not be harming the Empire any longer.”

“Hmm…I hope that the satisfaction of protecting the Empire is not the reward you had in mind. Patriotism is all well and good, but you will forgive me for finding it an insufficient reason to risk angering a powerful Lord.” Khai drawled, sounding skeptical to say the least, though she could catch a hint of awareness. The girl knew, or at least suspected, what it was she was willing to give her, but she wanted her to say it.

“Hardly. Your reward is me.” She scoffed, gesturing to herself smugly and stepping closer, running her hands along her own curves slowly, as seductively as she could given their admittedly less-than-flattering cut. “Succeed, and you get a night with me. You can even bring along that other acolyte you’re apparently tamed. I can teach you how to properly dominate a toy.”

“A night? A single night, for the risks I will be taking.” Khai scoffed, stepping closer and boldly reaching out to cup her sex through her clothes, and Malora couldn’t help but gasp in surprise at the former slave’s boldness. “No, I don’t think that’s sufficient. From my return until one of us leaves Korriban, your ass is mine, and the rest of you while I’m at it. However I want you, whenever I want you, wherever I want you.”

“Who do you think…” Malora started to scoff, only to squeal and be forced to grip Khai’s arms to stay upright as the acolyte carefully, and in a way that made it clear she was well practiced in the act, channeled a low-level current of electricity right into her sex, stimulating her unprepared body, quickly and brutally bringing her to a knee-weakening orgasm that left her legs trembling.

“Who do I think I am? Vestara Khai is who I am, Malora, but I don’t imagine you’ll be using my name very much when we’re together.” The little bitch smirked at her, licking her slightly-stained fingers clean before patting Malora on the cheek and stepping away, leaving her struggling to keep her footing and steady her breathing. “Mmh, I so look forward to seeing you again. It will be fun to play with someone besides my Kory again.”

With that she left, strolling with almost appalling confidence and a casual bearing towards the distant Tomb, whistling as if she was in a nature conservancy in Kaas City. Ignoring those around her, Malora delicately shuffled her way over to a crate and sat, biting back a moan as her sensitive folds were pressed against hard metal through damp clothes. Oh, she was going to punish that little cunt for this, and she was going to enjoy every second of it!

Running her right hand down her face, she settled in to plot her revenge, steadfastly ignoring the way she trembled and tingled, and resolutely refusing to speculate on what else Vestara Khai could do in bed. After all, such speculation was pointless when she was going to use the acolyte for nothing but her own pleasure.

…she had cum hard though, hadn’t she?

############################################################

The mutant tuk’ata could wait until I got my hands on the holocron I was after, I decided almost immediately after leaving the slumped form of Malora behind me. With everything being ‘real’, I had absolutely no interest whatsoever in lugging around the freshly-removed brain of a tuk’ata while I was fighting my way through the tomb. Isolation container or not. It would slow me down, it would be vulnerable, it would be gross…I just didn’t need that sort of hassle in my life just yet.

That determination didn’t last long when I passed the portion of Ragnos’ tomb that the mutant tuk’ata was sheltering in, because the entire approach to the side-section was littered with dismembered bodies of both the mechanical and organic nature. That, to me, spoke of the potential for the Sith Warrior to be present, and I needed to know what they were like. Whether they would be an ally to my cause, or someone I needed to eliminate quickly, because I would be damned if I let some raving lunatic get their hands on Vette and Jaesa.

It was time to sneak, and sneak is exactly what I did, drawing my vibrosword and slinking into the cool shadows of the antechamber’s interior, passing more corpses as I went. Though I didn’t want to prejudge too much, most of the bodies I was passing showed signs of what I would consider to be brutality. Especially the organic bodies, and the residue in the Force was unpleasant to say the least. No, I had a feeling that the Warrior was someone I would have to kill sooner rather than later.

Ten minutes later, I was proven right, as I watched the warrior kill The Beast of Marka Ragnos. He was a male pureblood, tall and broad shouldered, wielding his single warblade in a distinctly direct and brutal manner. More an axe or a hammer than a blade, the way he used it, and the feelings he was radiating into the Force were disgusting. I could feel his delight, his pleasure, pouring off of him. Not at the battle, not at winning, but at the pain he was causing The Beast. He was deliberately dragging the fight out to cause it as much pain as possible, avoiding fatal blows to focus on crippling it instead, and I spat on the ground in contempt as I turned away and headed for the mutant.

I wasn’t sure how yet, but that man wouldn’t be leaving Korriban alive.

I didn’t know who would replace him as Baras’ apprentice, and I didn’t care.

As I somewhat mechanically went about the various tasks required to get the brain for Malora (I certainly wasn’t interested in back-tracking and encountering this fellow head-on without stacking the deck in my favor!), I considered how best to succeed at my new self-appointed mission.

Asking my ancestor for enough of a boost to deal with him was tempting, enormously tempting, but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he would actually do it. Dealing with other acolytes was part of being on Korriban, part of the Trials, and the very fact that I would be going out of my way (at least at the moment) to confront and engage the Warrior would put the onus on me.

And, though I didn’t want to admit it, I had more than a little pride tied up in the idea of beating the man by myself. Kallig was certainly right that I wouldn’t amount to anything, would never achieve my goals and dreams, if I relied on him for everything the moment the going got tough.

The easiest thing to do would have been to ambush him while he was fighting The Beast, but that opportunity had already been lost by the time that I arrived on the scene. Which meant the next most convenient moment would be to ambush him while he and Vemrin were fighting at the end of the Trials. I might have Vette helping me at the time too, if she saw how the fighting went, or at least make her inclined to like me more if we met in the future.

Provided that whomever Baras replaced the Warrior with wasn’t just as bad, but there was a limit to how much I could do, especially if I didn’t want Baras to kill me for costing him a tool. Which he probably would, given his meticulous, ruthless actions during the Sith Warrior story. Quite frankly, the fact that the Warrior has survived his betrayal and been able to bring him down had been down more to luck and the Emperor’s assistance than anything else.

Hmm, maybe I should introduce myself to Vette early? Drop by the prison and say hello? That sounded nice, a bit of flirting with a pretty twi’lek was a good way to cheer up. But whether I did or not, it would have to wait, because an acolyte-and-beast infested tomb awaited me, and a reluctant holocron as well. And I could actually call a holocron reluctant without it being strange, since the damn things usually had a semi-sentient imprint of their maker built into them.

Sighing, I headed for the far larger, central portion of the Tomb, eyeing the milling lunatics littering the sand-stained ruins around me. With the majority of them too far into their own heads to even notice my presence here, I was relatively confident in my ability to get past them. At least I didn’t have to worry about the Tomb doing to my mind what it had done to theirs. Even if my own natural strength and nature in the Force wasn’t sufficient to protect me, and I fully believed that it was, my ancestor would never permit it. Losing a fight or failing a trial was one thing, but allowing me to be turned into a mindless, howling madwoman puppeted by the long-dead? Unlikely, to say the least.

Unfortunately, the failed acolytes hiding inside the Tomb were considerably more sane than the soldiers and slaves outside. Well, not sane, perhaps. More in control of their own faculties, perhaps, is a better way to say it. Every cloud had a silver lining, however, and in this case there were two: first, they seemed as inclined to fight each other as they did any outsider, and there were quite a few less of them than there had been in the game.

It didn’t take a pair of them long at all to notice me, and even less time for them to decide that they wanted me dead. Didn’t even bother trying to figure out which Lord I served in an effort to supplant me or anything like that, just drew their weapons and attacked. They were good, far better than those from Spindrall’s little bargain, but I was better than I had been then as well, and one of them was clearly the weaker and less talented of the two. It was she I targeted first, my blade humming through the air and crashing against hers in a relentless assault, occasionally hurling small bolts of lightning at her companion as he desperately tried to attack me.

No, not attack, but protect. He was trying to protect his companion from me, trying to intercede, to draw me away. He cared for her, on a level deep enough to risk himself, and I couldn’t help but think of myself and Kory. It made me hesitate, for a moment, that realization, that comparison of our circumstances, that commonality between us, and I paid dearly for it as she made a desperate lunge and scored a gouging slash across my thigh. With a snarl of pain I lashed out with my free hand to grab her wrist, and she shrieked briefly as I channeled a fatal amount of electricity directly into her body.

Leaving her smoking, crisped corpse to collapse to the stone floor, I turned on her partner and advanced. Grief and rage fueled his blows as he charged, his weapon scouring the stone with every missed swing, but as much strength as his emotions gave him, his control suffered in lockstep. Fifteen exchanges later, I took his left arm off at the joint, elbowed him in the face, and decapitated him with a spinning backhand blow as he collapsed to his knees.

                “You allowed your emotions to get the best of you.” My ancestor remarked coolly, stepping out of the void beside me as I pulled out a kolto dispenser and began applying the healing gel to my injury. “You could have died, might still die when slowed by such an injury, because you allowed your focus to waver on the battlefield.”

                “I know!” I snapped, the Force lashing out and cracking the stone column beside him, and he gazed down at me in calm censure of my further lack of control. Take a deep, steadying breath, I continued with a voice of iron. “I know, ancestor. Believe me, I know, and I know what you’ll say in response to this, but…when I looked at them. God, it was like looking at Kory and I. A stronger acolyte, one that probably could have finished the trials, if he had been willing to abandon his partner. It was like looking in a mirror, and it disturbed me, I admit.”

                “I warned you, did I not, of the danger in so stubbornly linking yourself to the weight your plaything represents? You protested my words, argued for the state of your mind and your soul in the face of abandoning her to her fate in order to succeed, but now you see the very cost I warned you of played out at your own hands.” He said, confirming my prediction without hesitation or remorse, turning his attention to the bodies, and I felt a pulse in the Force. A ripple spread through the world, and in an instant it wasn’t the two unnamed acolytes lying dead before me, but Kory and myself. Our bodies broken, flesh torn and scorched and flayed, and I could see all to easily that ‘I’ had died in a futile attempt to protect my weaker partner. With a brief flurry of invective, I pulsed the Force in return, tearing the illusion apart as I turned a fulminating glare onto my ancestor. Unperturbed, he spoke again. “Will you so easily risk such a result for your plaything? You allow your heart, and I will give you the credit of admitting it is indeed your heart and not your loins, to lead you? Or will you allow your head to do so? Wisdom or desire, lust or intelligence?”

                “I am stronger than they were, better trained then they were, more determined than they were!” I retorted, tossing aside the spent dispenser and turning towards the stairway leading deeper into the tomb. “I won’t fail where they did, because I have more to lose than just my own life, or Kory’s life. I have a cause, a purpose, and that gives me greater strength than survival alone can offer.”

                “There is truth in that.” He agreed as I walked away, voice solemn, almost sad. “But do not forget that no cause, no matter how righteous, how devotedly pursued, can overcome every obstacle.”

I felt his presence vanish again, his piece said, and I descended the staircase like a thunderstorm. He might be right, he might be wrong, but if there was one thing I knew, it was that I wouldn’t die here. I was going to retrieve that holocron, and God help anyone that tried to stop me, because I was disinclined to tolerate such interference.

Kory was waiting for me. Vette and Jaesa and Lana and Nicky and Kela and many more were all waiting for me, whether they knew it or not, and I wouldn’t fail here. The future of this galaxy would be shaped by my hands and will alone.

###############################################################

Chapter Text

Malora strode purposefully through the winding corridors of the academy, acolytes and lesser apprentices scattering out of her way, sensing her foul mood and dark intentions. None of them knew what had happened nor who had earned her ire, but none of them were remotely interested in finding out, either. A wicked grin played across her lips as she saw and sensed their fears, saw them throwing themselves out of her path, and she imagined the delicious scene that would soon unfold. She could almost taste Vestara's fear and helpless fury, could practically hear Kory's whimpers of submission as Malora showed them both the difference between an acolyte and an experienced Sith such as herself. She would break Vestara to bridle, use her as a tool for her own pleasure, then do the same to her little pet. She didn’t even know what race this ‘Kory’ was, nor what she looked like, but what did that matter? She would be fun to toy with regardless, and her real value was as a tool against the upstart that had embarrassed her so publicly, making her cum like that in front of her Lord, his ally, and her fellow apprentice. Not to mention the handful of guards and assistants stationed at the outpost!

Stopping outside the door to the two slave acolytes’ shared room, she took a moment to center herself and seep in the anticipation before keying the unlocked control panel. The door slid open and she swept inside, lightning crawling between the fingers of her dominant hand in a deliberate display of intimidation, only to freeze in shocked arousal at the sight before her, the smells that washed across her nose, and the sounds that were suddenly filling her ears. Facing her was a small, mousy-looking red-head, her hair short-cropped and her body littered with bruises and bite marks, her head thrown back and her mouth hanging open as she panted and squealed and moaned as she was absolutely railed.

“There you are, Malora. I’ll be with you in a moment. Kory and I got a little too excited waiting for you and decided to get started, isn’t that right, plaything?” Khai greeted her with a smile, far too casually for the circumstances. Despite her shock, and rapidly growing arousal, Malora couldn’t help but be absentmindedly impressed by the acolyte’s apparent strength, as she was holding her lover up in the air with nothing more than her arms, which she had braced behind Kory’s knees. She also couldn’t help but notice that Krevan -or rather, the rumors that he had mentioned to her- had not been exaggerating in the least when they said that Khai had a perfectly formed, preternaturally impressive shaft born of Sith Alchemy. Because Malora had seen alot of cocks in her life, and she could tell just by looking at the one rhythmically burying itself in the redhead’s cunt that it was above and beyond every single one of them.

Malora's mouth went dry, her carefully laid plans crumbling to dust in an instant as Kory whimpered something that might have been agreement. She tried to speak, to reassert the dominance she had perceived herself to hold, but found herself mesmerized by the hypnotic rhythm of Vestara's thrusts and the way Kory's small breasts bounced with each impact.

"What's the matter, Malora?" Vestara purred, her voice husky with exertion and lust, and more than a hint of knowing humor. A tone that said she had a very good idea of what. "Tooka got your tongue? Or perhaps you'd prefer my cock there instead?"

The older Sith flushed, anger and arousal warring within her. She wanted to lash out, to punish these insolent (former) slaves, but her body betrayed her. Her nipples hardened beneath her tunic, and she felt a telltale wetness between her thighs.

Vestara's knowing smirk only widened as she sensed, and saw, Malora's inner turmoil. Without breaking her rhythm, she leaned forward to whisper something in Kory's ear. The redhead's eyes widened, then locked onto Malora with a mixture of fear and... was that hunger? It certainly looked like it, and Malora felt something very much like nervousness as both of them licked their lips together.

"Why don't you join us, Malora?" Vestara purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "There's plenty of room for one more."

Malora's mouth opened and closed, no sound emerging. She was frozen in place, her body screaming for release even as her pride demanded she maintain control. The lightning at her fingertips, completely forgotten and entirely neglected, sputtered and died as the emotions -and the focus- she had used to summon it faded away.

"Or perhaps," Vestara continued, giving a particularly deep and heavy thrust, causing Kory to loose a sharp cry. "you'd prefer to watch? To see what real power looks like? After all, you weren’t powerful enough to fulfill your goals without the help of a lowly acolyte, so perhaps watching and learning while I ravage my sweet little Kory is your attempt to get closer to true power."

Malora's cheeks burned with humiliation and desire. She wanted to flee, to save face, but her feet remained rooted to the spot. Vestara's words stung, cutting deeper than any saber could. The truth of them was undeniable - she had needed the acolyte's help, then had been forced by her to orgasm in front of witnesses. And now, here she stood, powerless once again in the face of Vestara's overwhelming presence.

"I... I don't...of course not…" Malora stammered, her usual eloquence deserting her. Frankly, she was somewhat impressed with herself that she could even talk at all, given how out-of-sorts she was.

"Oh come now," Vestara cooed, never slowing her relentless pace. "There's no need to be shy. We're all Sith here, aren't we? Embracing our passions is what we do."

Kory let out a particularly loud moan, her body shuddering in Vestara's arms as she came, the scent of sex growing even stronger than it already was. Vestara nibbled on her ear gently, playfully whispering a few choice phrases of praise, and Malora gulped softly as she saw that the acolyte’s thrusts only slowed and grew gentler, rather than cease.

“Besides,” the fire-haired girl continued after a long moment, sounding a little bit strained. Though whether it was from the effort or from the pleasure she had to be feeling starting to get to her, Malora didn’t know. Not that it really mattered, especially when Khai continued and thoroughly redirected her attention. “Besides, I already own you, Malora. We made a bargain. You’re mine from now until I leave Korriban. So why don’t you stop waffling and get in more appropriate attire? Like, say, none?”

Malora's breath caught in her throat, her body trembling with a mixture of rage, humiliation, and undeniable arousal. The truth of Vestara's words struck her like a physical blow. She had indeed made a bargain, binding herself to this upstart acolyte in exchange for aid. And now, faced with the raw power and confidence radiating from Vestara, she found herself unable to resist.

With shaking hands, Malora began to shed her armor and undergarments. Each layer that fell away seemed to strip more than just cloth from her body; it peeled away her pride, her illusions of control. As the last garment pooled at her feet, she stood naked and vulnerable before the entwined lovers, both of whom were watching her without an ounce of shame or reluctance.

Vestara's eyes raked over Malora's exposed form, approval and a distinctly predatory glint in her gaze. "Much better." she purred. "Now, come here and get down on your knees."

Malora's legs moved of their own accord, propelling her forward until she was mere inches from Vestara and Kory. She sank to her knees, her eyes level with the point where their bodies joined. The scent of their arousal was overwhelming this close, and Malora felt her mouth water involuntarily at the scent and the view alike, watching raptly as that cum-slicked shaft glided in and out of Kory’s lewdly wide-spread folds.

"Good girl, you look so good down there. Kneeling so naturally for us, like you’re meant to." Vestara praised, her voice a silky purr, radiating [Satisfaction] and [Desire] into the Force, and Malora could barely muster the focus to feel a flicker of annoyance, never mind anything more drastic. "Now, why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to use? Show us what you can do with that cunning tongue of yours, hmm?"

Malora hesitated for just a moment, her pride making one last futile attempt at resistance, but she was too close. Too close, too intoxicated by the scent, too hungry for the pleasure, too shamed to abandon the bargain that she had made, and as she leaned closer Vestara's fingers wove through her hair, the Force blooming around them to replace it’s hold on Kory. She was pulled in, her tongue darting out to taste the mingled essences of Vestara and Kory, and all thoughts of further resistance and refusal was gone.

The slick, heated flesh where Vestara and Kory joined tasted incredible - a heady mix of Kory's sweetness and Vestara's muskier flavor, and Malora moaned involuntarily, her own arousal spiking as she lapped at their combined juices. It spiked again as her tongue mapped out just how broad Vestara’s girth was, just how wide she was splitting Kory open, and an absent part of her mind noted that it was even bigger than she had thought it was. A fact that was as enticing as it was nerve-inducing.

Malora's tongue worked feverishly, alternating between licking along Vestara's shaft as it plunged in and out of Kory and focusing on the redhead's swollen clit. Above her, she could hear Kory's whimpers and moans growing louder, more frantic. Vestara's breathing was becoming ragged as well, her thrusts increasing in speed and force.

"That's it, Malora," Vestara panted, her fingers tightening in Malora's hair, just on the edge of pain and displaying utter control over almost every movement that the kneeling apprentice could make. "Show us what that clever mouth can really do. Make us cum."

The command sent a shiver down Malora's spine, and she redoubled her efforts. Her hands came up to grip Vestara's thighs, steadying herself as she worked her tongue with renewed vigor. She could feel the tension building in both bodies above her, the way that their pleasure pulsed and throbbed in the Force, felt their presences oscillate in and out of tune with one another as their souls tangled and brushed against one another.

Malora lost herself in the task, her world narrowing to the taste and feel of the two bodies above her. She licked and sucked with a fervor she had never known before, driven by a desperate need to please, to prove her worth. The sounds of pleasure from Vestara and Kory grew louder, more urgent, spurring her on, their emotions pouring into the Force until she felt as though she could drown in them. Emperor, was this what sex was like when she wanted it, when she wasn’t being used by some insane fat lump…?

Suddenly, Kory's body tensed, her cries reaching a crescendo as she climaxed, and Malora felt the rush of wetness against her tongue, the previously sweet-flavor intensifying sharply as it went from delicious traces to freshly-flowing treats. She couldn’t help but wonder, in that moment, what Vestara would taste like. Better still, she wondered what they would taste like combined, and a fresh flow of heat to her own sex made it pleasurably clear just how much she wanted to find out the answer.

"Don't you dare stop!" Vestara growled, her hips bucking erratically, not that Malora had any plans of doing such a thing. "Take everything Kory gives you!”

Malora obeyed without hesitation, lapping eagerly at Kory's gushing release. The taste was intoxicating, and she found herself moaning against the redhead's sensitive flesh, sending vibrations through both bodies above her. Vestara's thrusts became more erratic, her grip on Malora's hair tightening to an almost painful degree.

"Fuck, I'm close," Vestara groaned, her voice thick with lust. "Kory, pet, where do you want it?"

Kory, still trembling from her own orgasm, managed to gasp out the entirely predictable response. "Inside... please, Mistress, fill me up!"

Vestara let out a feral growl to the desperate offer and plea, her hips slamming forward one last time. Malora felt the shaft pulse against her tongue, felt it throb and flex as it pumped cum directly into the submissive girl’s womb. After a matter of heartbeats, a new, thicker taste was touching her tongue, and her eyes widened as she realized what it was…and the implications therein. Not only was she now tasting Vestara’s seed -thick, creamy, richly flavored, nothing like the disgusting slime she had so often been forced to swallow in the past-, but doing so meant that the woman above her came so much, so quickly, that Kory’s cunt was already at it’s limit and leaking.

Malora's mind reeled at the implications, her own arousal reaching a fever pitch and, though she would never admit it, a thread of anxiety pulsing through her in time with it. She was already going to have to adjust to taking a cock bigger than anything she had ever had in her before, but now she knew she was going to have to deal with a helluva lot of cum as well. Maybe that should be discouraging, but if so it failed to meet the mark, and she continued to lap hungrily at the combined fluids flowing from Kory's well-used entrance, savoring every drop of her new-found treat.

As Vestara's climax subsided, she slowly withdrew from Kory, her still-hard shaft glistening with their combined juices. Without thinking, Malora leaned forward, her tongue darting out to make an attempt at cleaning the impressive member. Vestara let out a low, approving hum, adjusting her hips slightly to slip her cock fully into the dark-haired apprentice’s mouth, even as Kory unsteadily -and somewhat awkwardly- was set on her feet beside the, wherein she promptly semi-stumbled over towards one of the beds and poured herself into it with a sigh.

"My, my, Malora. Eager, aren't we?" Vestara chuckled, her voice husky with post-orgasmic bliss as she slowly thrust herself in and out of those suckling lips. "And to think, you came here with the intention of forcing Kory and I to service you instead."

Malora flushed with embarrassment -she wished there was anger there as well, but there wasn’t- at Vestara's words, but didn't stop her ministrations. Quite the contrary, actually, because the more that she tasted the combined cum coating Vestara’s hard length, the greater was the craving for more of it. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking harder as Vestara's cock slid in and out of her mouth.

"That's it, slut. Force, you’re good at this. That’s right, keep going." Vestara purred, her fingers loosening their grip and turning instead to almost mockingly stroke her hair, treating her like a tooka or a massif. "Show me how much you want it. Show me how badly you need to be filled."

Malora moaned around the thick shaft, helpless to do anything but feel pleasure and to obey the instructions she was given, any thought of doing otherwise long since lost. She had come here intending to dominate, to punish, but now found herself willingly submitting, her hands coming up to grip Vestara's thighs, steadying herself so that she could take that impressive length deeper into her throat.

Well-primed by Kory, and tempted by Malora’s admittedly impressive skill, it didn’t take long for Vestara to come again, and Malora’s eyes bulged at the flood of seed that began to pour into her mouth. She had seen, or rather tasted, it happen with Kory, but she hadn’t imagined Vestara would be able to come quite so much quite so quickly quite so soon after stuffing her fellow acolyte, and the kneeling apprentice found herself having to swallow fast enough that she risked choking just to avoid drowning. Somehow, the very thought was more arousing than anything else, and as her stomach filled her empty pussy clenched desperately on nothing. Force, she wanted this woman to fuck her, fuck her until she couldn’t stand, never mind walk!

Vestara slowly withdrew from Malora's mouth, a satisfied smirk playing across her lips as she gazed down at the flushed and panting apprentice, enjoying the glazed look in her eyes and the way she was practically pressing herself against the cum-and-salive slicked cock laying across her upturned face. "Not bad, Malora. You've certainly got some skills with that mouth of yours. Must be all the practice that you get, since you’re such a whore."

Malora's chest heaved as she caught her breath, her mind reeling from the intensity of what had just transpired. She felt simultaneously humiliated and aroused beyond measure, her body thrumming with need. The degradation hit differently, coming from Vestara, than when it had come from the previous men and women that had used her. And it wasn’t simply because the acolyte was attractive either. As ugly and unpleasant (and unskilled) as Renning was, he was hardly the norm for her previous sexual partners. No, there was something else separating the circumstances, though she couldn’t imagine what it was.

"Now, I think that’s enough foreplay for the moment, don’t you?" Vestara purred, her still-hard shaft glistening with saliva, "I think it's time we put our bargain to the test."

Malora could only breathe, pupils blown wide, as she was non-to-gently tugged towards the bed Kory had collapsed onto, Vestara using her hair as a makeshift leash to guide her up and onto the bed, giving her a fine view of the smoothly-shaven, cum-leaking cunt of the reclining redhead. Pausing, she turned her head to look up at Vestara -hissing slightly at the brief pain in her scalp as her hair reached it’s limits again-, biting her lower lip as she hesitated.

“Well, what are you waiting for? You already know you like to taste of Kory and I together, and now you have the chance to get some more right from the source.” Vestara told her, tugging sharply on her hair to urge her forward. When she hesitated again, the fiery-haired former slave scowled and slapped her harshly across her ass with one sparking hand. She squealed and bucked, twisting violently in an effort to get away from the source of the pain, only to whine as Vestara’s unmoving grip on her hair had her head snapping back and her scalp protesting. “It looks like you’re still struggling with understanding your position, here. I own you. I own Kory. That means you do whatever I tell you to. If that means training, you give training. If that means I want a massage, you get the fucking oil out. If I tell you to bend over and spread your legs, you thank me for the pleasure. And if I tell you to eat Kory out and make her cum, you stick your tongue in her cunt and make her cum. Am I understood?”

Malora cried out again as she was spark-spanked again, nodding hurriedly as best she could as affirmations spilled from her lips, and she buried her head between Kory’s thighs the minute that a satisfied Vestara let her go. As she energetically went to work fulfilling the dominant acolyte’s demands, she felt the bed sink beneath her knees as Vestara settled behind her, and she heard the other woman’s appreciative chuckle as she instinctively spread her knees and arched her back to present herself to the eyes that were no doubt tracing her dripping sex.

“Hmm, offering yourself up, just like that? Very nice.” came the low, throaty murmur, and Malora gasped softly into Kory’s sex as she felt the bulbous, spongy head of that incredible cock press against her soaked hole. Then she moaned, low and long, as Vestara slowly and steadily fed it into her grasping, velvety depths.

A moan that was muffled by Kory's pussy as Vestara's cock stretched her open, filling her more completely than she'd ever experienced before. The sensation was overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain as her body struggled to accommodate the impressive girth, and she was forced to stop her oral efforts and focus on breathing. She could feel every ridge, every vein of Vestara's shaft, every throbbing heartbeat as it slowly sank deeper into her core.

"Force, you're tight, almost as tight as Kory." Vestara groaned behind her, her hands gripping Malora's hips tightly, her thumbs digging into the fat globes of flesh of her ass. "I bet you've never had anything this big inside you before, have you?"

Unable to speak, Malora could only whimper and shake her head slightly, her face still buried between Kory's thighs. A moment later, the redhead's fingers tangled in her hair, tugging insistently and grinding her nose and lips against the former slave’s sex. Mindful of Vestara’s commands, and beginning to adjust to the thick, hot invader buried balls-deep inside of her, she obeyed the unspoken request/demand/command and started to lick and suck and nip at her folds and clit.

Vestara began to move, slowly at first, pulling out until just the tip remained inside before thrusting back in. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through Malora's body, causing her to moan and gasp against Kory's flesh. The redhead's grip on her hair tightened, urging her to continue her ministrations even as she was being thoroughly fucked from behind.

Malora's world narrowed to the overwhelming sensations assaulting her body. Vestara's cock filled her completely, stretching her in ways she'd never experienced before. Each slow, deliberate thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, making her moan and whimper into Kory's dripping sex. The taste of the redhead's arousal mixed with Vestara's cum on her tongue, driving her to lap and suck with renewed vigor.

"That's it, slut," Vestara purred, her hips starting to move faster, harder. "Show Kory how grateful you are for the privilege of tasting her. Show me just how good you are at obeying me."

Malora could only moan in response, her mind hazy with lust and submission. She felt utterly consumed, caught between the two bodies using her for their pleasure. And yet, she had never felt more alive, more present in her own body. Every nerve ending seemed to tingle with electricity, every touch amplified tenfold.

Vestara's pace increased, her thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by Malora's muffled cries and Kory's breathless whimpers, growing steadily more ragged as she got closer and closer to another orgasm. Malora could feel herself getting close to an orgasm of her own, the coil of pleasure in her core winding tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust, and she felt nothing but anticipation as she imagined what it would feel like to tighten and pulse around Vestara’s throbbing cock as it filled her womb.

"Look at you, taking my cock so well. Force!" Vestara growled, her fingers digging into Malora's hips hard enough to bruise, a few sparks crawling across her fingers to sink into Malora’s flesh. “I knew this was the right choice to make! Getting access to you for the price of killing one fucking tuk’ata? Even if you don’t show Kory and I a fucking thing, keeping you in my bed until the day we leave is worth it!”

Malora's mind, what was left of it given how much pleasure she was feeling after being reduced to nothing more than a plaything for this upstart acolyte and her pet, felt something akin to pride at that. At the knowledge that this unique, virile specimen was finding genuine enjoyment and pleasure from fucking her. Please and enjoyment above and beyond simply getting her dick wet, because Force knew that Khai had already had plenty of that with Kory. The thought only fueled her desire, her inner walls clenching around Vestara's thick shaft as she felt herself teetering on the edge of orgasm, her womb aching to be filled as her mind drowned in the bliss that was The Force around them.

Kory's thighs suddenly tightened around Malora's head, her back arching as she cried out in ecstasy. The flood of wetness against Malora's tongue, combined with a particularly deep thrust from Vestara, sent her tumbling over the edge. She screamed into Kory's pussy, her entire body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

A groan from behind her and the pounding rhythm of Vestara’s cock faltered as Malora's inner walls clenched and spasmed around it. With a guttural cry, she slammed her hips forward one last time, burying herself to the hilt inside Malora's quivering body.

Malora felt the thick shaft pulse inside her, followed by an intense rush of heat as Vestara's release finally, finally flooded her womb. The sensation of being filled so completely, so deeply, prolonged her own orgasm, drawing out her pleasure until she felt like she might pass out from the intensity.

For several long moments, the three women remained locked together, panting and trembling in the aftermath of their shared climax. Slowly, Kory's grip on Malora's hair loosened, and Vestara's hands gentled on her hips, though she made no effort whatsoever to actually withdraw her cock from Malora’s plundered depths.

"I think we've found an excellent use for you, Malora. Don't you agree?" Vestara finally panted, voice dripping with lazy, smug satisfaction, running her hands up Malora’s spine to stroke her hair as she splayed herself across Malora’s back, pressing her breasts to against the apprentice’s shoulder blades.

Malora could only whimper in response, her mind still hazy from the intense orgasm she had just experienced. She felt utterly spent, her nerves fizzing and sparking nicely as she trembled and breathed. The weight of Vestara's body pressed against her back, the other woman's cock still buried deep inside her, sent little aftershocks of pleasure through her oversensitive body, and it was all she could do to stay awake as Vestara and Kory’s presences in the Force wrapped around her like thick, warm, all-encompassing blankets.

Kory's fingers gently combed through Malora's hair, a stark contrast to the rough treatment from moments before. "You did so well," the redhead murmured, her voice soft and encouraging, none of the mockery and degradation that the same words would have held if Vestara had spoken them isntead. "Doesn't it feel good to submit? To just let Vestara use you, to pleasure her and be rewarded with pleasure in turn?"

Malora found herself nodding weakly, unable to deny the truth of Kory's words. The submission, the pleasure, the intensity of it all - it was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was exhausting, had been painful, had left her drained and weak…but it was one of the most amazing things that she had ever experienced.

"Good girl." Vestara purred, the words sounding sincere and warm, as she finally started sliding out of Malora, slipping free with a wet squelch. The apprentice whimpered at the loss, feeling suddenly empty and profoundly disappointed, especially as she felt the cum she had been given start to drain out of her. "But we're far from done with you yet."

With surprising gentleness, Vestara maneuvered Malora onto her back, positioning her between herself and Kory. The redhead immediately curled into Malora's side, nuzzling against her neck and trailing soft kisses along her collarbone. Vestara, meanwhile, settled between Malora's thighs, her still-hard cock brushing teasingly against the apprentice’s freshly-fucked folds.

“That was a speed round. Let’s see how well you can do in an endurance round.”

Malora could only shudder and moan in dread and desire as she felt herself being split apart again. This wasn’t what she had expected when she made this bargain…but she didn’t have it in her to complain, not by a long shot, and as she began to rock back and forth in time with the dominant’s thrusts, she found herself wondering what strings she would have to pull to be in Khai’s company more often.

####################################################################

I was feeling rather satisfied with myself when I finally left my room the next morning, closing and locking the door behind me. It wouldn’t do for anyone to happen across my girls, after all, fucked stupid, covered and filled with more cum than I had known I could muster. And I had known I could muster quite a bit, after all the time I had spent fucking Nicky and Kela over the course of my time with them. Either something about my ‘production’ was related to my strength in the Force, or being on Korriban was somehow affecting it. I was willing to bet -and really, really hoped, in a perversely childish way- that it was option one, because I would be damned if that wasn’t a hell of a thing for my ego. Not to mention would prove very, very convenient as the number of lovers I had grew.

I wasn’t sure if I would keep Malora, the way I planned on keeping Kory. She was a fun lay and seemed to have untapped depths of genuine submissive masochism to exploit, but I didn’t really care about her the way I did the girls I both already had and those I intended to collect in the future. Then again, she could prove useful. She did have it in her to become a Dark Councilor and a deeply knowledgeable master of the Biotic Sciences. Between her and Nicky, I would have that Sphere locked up nice and tight if I did keep her. Otherwise, I would probably have to kill her to keep her out of Nicky’s hair.

Hmm.

Something to consider for the future.

At the moment, I was summoned to Harkun’s room to speak with him about the last trial I had completed, which meant -unless things were drastically different, which I rather doubted they would be- I was about to run into Zash again.

“Ah, Acolyte!” a familiar voice purred from behind me, and with a wry thought of ‘speak of the Devil and she shall appear’, I turned to give the red-clad Lord a bow and a murmur of her name. Looking me up and down before taking a deep, deliberate inhalation, she arched one perfect blond eyebrow at me. “You know, I didn’t doubt for a moment the rumors that you were something of a ladies-woman, given how fond your former owner, her slave, and that Beniko girl were of you. I wasn’t particularly surprised to hear that you rather quickly collared one of your fellow acolytes either. But to hear that you had an apprentice to Lord Renning make her way to your room, from which she still hasn’t emerged…goodness. You do realize that you are here to become a Sith, don’t you Khai? Not to seduce the whole of the Academy?”

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, My Lord.” I responded serenely, folding my hands behind my back and enjoying -even though I knew who and what she was, not to mention what she really looked like- the way that her eyes fell to my breasts and lingered there for a long, long moment. “Besides, Malora could prove useful to me. As an apprentice, she has knowledge to share that will give me a leg up on my rivals. Every resource is one to be exploited, yes?”

“Oh, I agree, but have a care not to get Lord Renning after you by playing with his toys. He’s popular with the Dark Council, and I rather doubt I can keep him from killing you if you aggravate him enough, at least while you’re still a mere Acolyte.” she agreed, sounding distinctly amused, before sobering and narrowing her eyes. “Speaking of your rivals, tis a cruel thing to seduce this ‘Kory’ into your bed while planning to kill her once the rest of the pool is gone. Even for a Sith.”

“I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. Kory is devoted to me and makes for extraordinarily pleasurable company. I plan on keeping her chained to my bed for the foreseeable future, on Korriban and off it.” I refuted immediately, waving my right hand in a brushing away gesture. “The life of an apprentice is likely to be a stressful and duty-riddled one, I’ll need a good way to relax and maintain my focus.”

“You know, of course, that I am only interested in taking a single acolyte from your pool as my apprentice, don’t you?” she inquired mildly, and I bobbed my head in a casual nod.

“Of course, that’s why I warned Ffon off. It would be a waste for you to have been forced to kill him thanks to Harkun’s schemes.” I confirmed, and she eyed me speculatively.

“Yes, I heard about that. A clever way to dispose of a rival without any risk to yourself, and you did it by doing nothing except tell the truth. I was impressed when I heard about it, though I was less than pleased with Harkun’s attempts to undermine me or ignore my will” she admitted, sounding and feeling completely genuine in her praise, before shaking her head. “But that is both old news and besides the point. How, exactly, do you plan on keeping Kory alive and making her a Sith?”

“Don’t really plan on making her a Sith. She has no interest in it, and little talent. She’s my bedwarmer, my pet, and in the far-off future will make an excellent pair of invisible eyes and ears at high society events. No one pays attention to slaves, after all. The world will see a quiet, soft plaything for my amusement, nothing more, and when their tongues start wagging, she’ll bring their songs back to me.”

“She has no interest in being a Sith? Given the chance to be free or remain a slave, she chooses slavery?” Zash was clearly surprised by that, though the surprise faded when I responded with a small, smug smirk of satisfaction.

“She chooses slavery to me. A life in my bed, spreading her legs whenever I want her too and acting as my stress relief is entirely preferable to dying here or trying to make it as a Sith.”

“Hmm…I can’t say I disapprove of your attitude or your taste, not to mention your forethought. And I suppose you want me to pull some strings to keep Kory alive?” she asked, and I bowed more than a little cockily. Shaking her head with a scoffing laugh, she continued. “Fine, as long as you understand that she won’t receive any training whatsoever from me, and anything you teach her must be on your own time with your own means. Of course, if you fail to be chosen as my apprentice, your Kory will either be dead alongside you or given as a gift to whomever does win. Is that quite clear?”

“Clear as crystal, of course. I would never have insisted otherwise. Thank you, Lord Zash.” I bowed again, mroe sincerely and respectfully this time, before glancing down the hallway. “Was there anything else you needed, My Lord? Overseer Harkun summoned me, for my next trial I imagine, and I shouldn’t want to keep you waiting for my graduation any longer than you absolutely must.”

“Ha! You are amusing, and cheeky. I like that. I will enjoy you quite a bit, I think, Khai.” she responded, voice thick with sultry promise, and I had to firmly remind my libido that she actually looked like an ancient Egyptian mummy, not a busty blonde with some very attractive lips and one hell of an ass. “Yes, I just wanted to know how you got the holocron out of the monument.”

“Force Lightning.”

“…Force Lightning? Really? That was it?”

“Yes, that was it. I was shocked myself, frankly, but I recalled that Tulak Hord was an incredibly powerful sorcerer, in addition to his master of the blade. Since I rather doubted that cutting the monument open with a lightsaber was the solution, not least of which because I could tell that more than a few had tried to do exactly that over the years, I decided to try the most, hmm, staple technique of sorcery. Thus, the lightning.”

“Remarkable, simply remarkable.” she shook her head, sounding wryly amused, a slight gleam in her eyes as she looked at me. “Do you have any idea how many hours, how many rituals, how many great and powerful and esoteric arts I have used on that monument over the years, only for each and every one of them to fail? You really must be her…”

I didn’t respond, nor did I ask, fully aware what she was alluding to and unwilling to open that particular can of worms even so much as a tiny crack. I doubted, at this range and as untrained as I was, that I would be able to complete hide my reaction to anything she had to say along that particular avenue of discussion, and Force knew I wasn’t ready to contend with her just yet. Better to play dumb and give her no opportunity to sense anything was amiss. After a moment, she sighed and shrugged a bit playfully. “Well, whatever the case and the cause, you succeeded. Go ahead to your next Trial, acolyte. And make sure to keep impressing me, hmm? I’ll go and inform Kory that she’s yours and no longer a student of this Academy.”

With that, she swanned away, hips swaying hypnotically beneath her red robes, and Force as my witness I watched until she was out of sight before huffing out a sigh and making my way towards Harkun’s office. If I recalled correctly, it would be the tablets next. Hmm, perhaps I should take a side-trip to the Hate Machine and make a copy of the tablet for myself…

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Chapter Text

Make sure to update or check out the  TV Tropes !

Consider joining my Discord and having a nice chat with the rest of us sometime!

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It really was quite soothing, for want of a better word, to know that Kory was safely ensconced in our room at the Academy, unmolested by other acolytes or apprentices and no longer have the lightsaber hanging over her neck for failing to complete a trial in a satisfactory manner. With her safety as ensured as was possible, under the circumstances, I could devote the entirety of my focus on performing my next trial. Which was good, because this particular trial -the second to last- was going to involve fighting through a slave-and-soldier rebellion and some very large k’lor slugs. Not to mention the possibility of running into other acolytes and apprentices that, as usual, might want to cause me issues.

Of course, collecting the tablets and going the Hate Machine wasn’t my only objective, there was also a certain Jedi Knight that had, bravely but foolishly, tried to infiltrate Korriban itself. I didn’t know who had given Quorian Dorjis his orders, but they didn’t seem to have done a very good job at preparing him for a spying and infiltration mission, given how quickly he had gotten caught.

Which brought me to…

“Hold there, Acolyte. I have need of you.” a female voice called out to me as I made my way towards the Academy’s main entrance, and I turned with an expression of polite interest towards the woman that had addressed me, bowing as I ‘recognized’ her Inquisitorial robes. “Whatever errand your master is sending you on can wait until you have served me.”

"My Lord?” I stepped closer and bowed again, resisting the urge to arch an eyebrow at her. “I am of course at your service, though I ask you inform Overseer Harkun of such. I would hate for him to believe that I am attempting to put off my trials or somehow game the system.”

“Your Overseer will not be an issue.” she informed me bluntly, folding her hands behind her back and looking down her nose at me. Metaphorically speaking, of course, I was a few inches taller than she was, not that physical size mattered much in the face of power in either The Force or politics. “I am Inquisitor Urinth, tasked here in a matter of great importance for the Empire. Some weeks ago, we captured a Republic Commando that was attempting to spy on this Academy, having arrived in disguise as one of the many marauders trying to find their fortune in our sacred tombs. Rather than execute her, we plan to use her against the wretched Republic and the Jedi that they’ve collared.”

She paused for a moment, either savoring her success or looking for some sort of response from me, and I curled my lips upwards in what she would likely consider to be smug satisfaction and amusement at the idea of turning the Empire’s enemies against themselves. Of course, it helped that I did actually feel those very same emotions, if not for the same reasons that she would presume I did.

Then both the pronouns and the position of her captive sank in, and my eyes widened in shock. I had always wondered why a single Jedi, and one that was apparently ‘soft-minded and easy to manipulate’ had been sent to Korriban in an effort to spy on the Academy alone, but I’d always figured that I was A) putting far too much thought into a sidequest, even of pre-EApocalypse Bioware game and B) that some of the Tomb Raiders running around were probably SIS agents doing the same thing. In my idle musings, I had wondered at that and wondered at how it would change if it were ‘real’. It seemed that at least some of those musings had come true. Which might be a good thing, if true, though given some of my other ‘idle musings’ it could be a terrible thing if it happened again. As it was, this was the first time something was deviating from the game without me causing it to do so through my own actions -like binding Kallig or saving Kory-, which was both exciting and mildly terrifying.

“Unfortunately, she is not weak-minded enough for us to manipulate easily. Even with all the efforts of our alchemy and sorcery, we have not been able to twist her mind and memories as we see fit, so we have been forced into a longer, more complicated method. Memory traps have been planted in her mind. Over time, as she tries to make her way back to the Republic, these traps will activate while she sleeps. As they dissolve, they will twist her memories slowly, subtly.” she groused, not an ounce of respect to be had for her captive despite the fact that the woman had apparently resisted the efforts of she and her fellows for at least several weeks. “You will meet her in the prisons, defending her from the depredations of another acolyte, earn a little bit of her trust. With your, hmm, background, it shouldn’t be difficult for you to do that much. You are then to help her escape, either by helping her reach whatever ship brought her or by some other method. We will see to it that your way is clear.”

“A fake defection?” I asked with a frown, folding my arms beneath my breasts, even as I screamed in confusion in the back of my head. “That’s likely to get me executed, and how would I separate myself from him before she returns to the Republic without arousing suspicion?”

“Hardly anything so convoluted as that. You are a mere acolyte, and slave-born at that. The complexity required for such an elaborate plan is beyond you.” she quite literally flapped a hand at me in dismissal of the idea, and I tried not to be offended by that. It wasn’t like she was entirely wrong, after all, and it was a reasonable assumption to make given the information that she possessed. “No. You are young, new, and pretty, with a backstory suitable to the deception. It makes you a plausible traitor, taking pity on the poor, beautiful soldier, suffering so under the cruel hands of the Sith, just as you once suffered. Your dalliances with that other slave-girl will provide you a compelling reason to stay behind. In fact, bring her along for this, it will suit the plan quite well. I trust she will do as you tell her?”

“Of course she will.” I responded immediately, honestly as it happened. Kory wouldn’t say anything to blow ‘our’ deception, especially if I primed her properly.

“Good. Then you will begin this task immediately.” she ordered, sounding coldly pleased, and I bowed one last time before turning away. I didn’t make it more than a handful of steps, however, before she called after me. “And acolyte, know that if you foul this plan, your death will be slow, painful, and public.”

“Not to worry, Inquisitor, I have every intention of getting that Commando back to her people with each and every one of your memory traps intact. Your plan will be followed to the letter.” I promised her honestly, waiting until I turned a corner to allow a genuine smirk to crease my lips.

I’ll just be adding a few things of my own to this plan.

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“Getting involved in the games of the Inquisition is not how I expected things to go once I wasn’t an acolyte any longer, Ves.”

Kory’s tone wasn’t quite a whine, but it was definitely at least a plaintive complaint, and I flashed her an unrepentant grin over my shoulder, getting an eyeroll that spoke volumes in response, though she seemed -unwillingly, it must be said- a little amused as well, judging by the small, quirking tremble at the corners of her lips.

“Don’t complain, baby girl. You’d hate doing nothing but lying around in my bed all day while I’m running around doing whatever it is the Overseers want me to do.” I teased her gently, before my look took a distinctly wicked edge, holding it silently for long enough for her to give me a wary look. “Well, that’s not quite true. You do love lying around in bed, freshly fucked and leaking like a sieve. I’d go so far as to say it’s your favorite thing in the world, now.”

“And there it is.” she sighed, shaking her head with a soft scoff, running a hand through her hair in a now-familiar gesture of affectionate aggravation. “You know perfectly well that I’ve been studying hard whenever I can. I’d be getting a lot more done if you weren’t putting me down for the count so often.”

 "Are you complaining, pet?" I asked, feigning mingled offense and heartbreak as we descended into the depths of the Academy. "I can always leave you to your studies, if you'd prefer, uninterrupted and without any attention to distract you from your efforts."

She gave me a withering look that was somewhat undermined by the flush creeping up her neck, her presence oscillating between affection and worry that I would actually . "You know that's not what I meant."

I laughed and nodded, grabbing on of her hands and pressing a kiss to the palm as I enjoyed the momentary levity before the serious task ahead. The prison levels were not a place I frequented willingly. They reeked of despair and pain, the Dark Side particularly potent in a place designed to break spirits, and reminded me far too much of a certain stupid bastard’s ‘play-room’ to make me happy. Even if it wasn’t quite so depraved, it was a well known fact that more than a few slaves were kept at the Academy for the express purpose of serving as entertainment.

I would be worried for Vette, if I didn’t know that she was far too valuable to Baras to allow any of his acolyte pool -or anyone else- to abuse her too much. And I wasn’t worried about who her master would be, because I had plans to kill the Sith Warrior and, if necessary, kill whoever replaced him as well. Vette was a good girl, top-tier waifu to say the least, and I would suffer no (grievous) harm to come to her.

"So," Kory said, lowering her voice as we approached the guard station, "what's the actual plan here? I assume we're not just following the Inquisitor's orders to the letter. I know you, mistress, and you never do anything as you’re told."

"Astute as always, sweetling." I murmured with a smirk, pinching her hip lightly in ‘chastisement’. “You’re only partially correct. We’ll be flowing 99.9% of the plan. Actually, arguably, we’re following 100% of the plan, there will just be a few…bonuses at the end. Now hush.”

 The prison guards gave us little more than a passing glance—they'd clearly been instructed to expect us, and to ask no questions whatsoever. One of them, a burly human with a cybernetic eye, gestured down the dimly lit corridor.

"Cell block D, third cell on the left," he grunted. "Inquisitor Urinth said to give him ten minutes alone with the prisoner to…soften her up." He emphasized the last three words with a knowing smirk that made my skin crawl. Though at least part of that might have been from the way he was leering at the two of us. “Get her nice and ready for you.”

"How generous," I intoned coolly in response, letting a hint of my disgust show, which only seemed to delight him more, the sick fuck. "And the other acolyte?"

"Getting started, now that you’re here. Knows to make it look good but not to actually kill the Republic dog. Surprised we can’t hear her screaming already, he was looking forward to it." He tapped something on his datapad, eyeing it for a moment. "The timer is running, so get comfortable for the next ten minutes."

I couldn't help the distaste that curled in my gut, and the contempt. I hated these games of cruelty -genuine cruelty, not the fun games I played with my lovers- that seemed to be the Empire's favorite pastime, but as pointless and purposeless as they so often were, at least it served our purposes today. I nodded curtly, gesturing for Kory to follow me as we stepped away from the guard station.

"Ten minutes, huh?" I muttered under my breath, jaw working. "Time enough to plan our entrance, and consider what we’ll say. Though I certainly will have a few choice words for whomever it is."

We lingered in an alcove just out of sight of the main corridor, close enough to hear when the sounds began—a man's voice, taunting and cruel, followed by the dull thud of impact. No screams yet, which impressed me, even if it was guaranteed to make the other acolyte even nastier. Ploy or not, he likely wouldn’t tolerate what was going on. Our Republic commando was made of sterner stuff than her captors gave her credit for. God, I couldn’t even sense any pain in the Force yet.

“She’s strong. Good for her.” Kory murmured, her expression hardening as we listened to his apparently-futile efforts continue. "Though it won't be pleasant for her when he escalates."

"Which is why we'll be interrupting before it gets too far, because I doubt he’s going to be following the Inquisitor’s orders to the letter." I replied, checking the chronometer on my wrist, willing it to move faster than it’s seeming crawl. "Seven more minutes of this farce should be sufficient to sell our intervention as genuine."

Another impact, louder this time, followed by a grunt that might have been the commando or her tormentor. Then a voice, female and defiant despite its ragged edges: "Is that really the best you can do? I’ve had a worse time of things in a bar-room brawl during shore leave!"

I couldn't help but smile at her spirit. Whoever this woman was, she had durasteel in her spine. There was something about her voice, too, something familiar, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Still, whoever she was, I could sense the spike of outrage and hate that followed her defiance, and the acolyte's response was as immediate as it was harsh—a crackling sound and ozone stench that I recognized as Force lightning, followed by the first real cry of pain. It wasn't a scream, but it was enough to make me wince. Force lightning was no joke, even a novice's attempt could cause excruciating pain. And somehow I doubted this acolyte was a complete novice, either.

"You’ve got a big mouth for a Republican whore that’s locked in a cage." the male voice sneered. "Let's see how many more jolts it takes before you're begging. Not that it will do you any good, I’ll just enjoy it even more when I hurt you."

Another crack of lightning, another stifled cry, louder and longer. I felt Kory tense beside me, her hand instinctively reaching for where a weapon would be if she was still permitted to carry one.

"Four minutes, baby. Be ready." I murmured, placing a restraining hand on her arm, jaw hurting from how hard I was clenching it. "We need to make this convincing."

The next two minutes stretched interminably as the sounds from the cell grew more vicious. When a genuine scream finally echoed down the corridor, I jolted. That scream was a sound that chilled me to the bone, not just because of the raw agony it conveyed but because I recognized it. That voice—I knew that voice, I had know that I recognized it, but now I knew how and why.

"Shit!" I hissed, my hand spasming towards my own vibroblade as lightning of my own began to crawl up and down my arms. "That's not just any Republic commando."

Kory's eyes widened as she caught my sudden tension. "Who is it?"

I didn't answer, already moving down the hallway with purpose, not giving a damn about the handful of minutes that remained, nor caring for . Another crack of lightning, another scream—this one bitten off halfway through, as though she'd forced herself to swallow it. I swept into the room just in time to see the Sith Warrior -God damn it all, as if I didn’t want to kill him already!- tightening his grip on the commando’s throat further still, her hands scrabbling desperately at his gauntlet in an attempt to pry it free before she passed out. She was utterly naked, covered in injuries, and for a moment I remembered my own past. A memory that had me lashing out rather harder than the plan called for with the Force, tearing his hand away from her neck harshly enough that his wrist snapped, before hurling him towards the far wall.

 The other acolyte crashed against the durasteel with a satisfying crunch, dropping him to his knees beside another cage -I absently took note of the very pretty, very naked Lethan Twi’lek that it held, who was watching everything with shock and interest-, and his crimson eyes widened in shock before narrowing with fury.

"What do you think you're doing, slave?" he spat, cradling his injured wrist. "This prisoner is mine to break!"

I advanced into the cell, positioning myself between him and the prisoner he had just been torturing. Behind me, I heard the woman's ragged breathing as she gulped in precious air, and Kory slipped in behind me, moving immediately to the prisoner's side and doing what she could to help her.

“If you have the strength to force me aside, feel free to try. But otherwise, you’re done here.” I growled back, and while it might otherwise have been part of a ploy, I truly meant it.

“I am the future apprentice of Darth Baras himself…!” he started, only to be cut off as I backhanded him across with the Force, wishing desperately that I could do it with my flesh and blood hand.

“You are nothing more than another acolyte, not different from me, except for the fact that you’re trying to hide behind a master you don’t yet have!” I hissed, flexing my hands and wishing I could kill him here and now. “But why would I expect anything different from a man who can only get his hands on a woman if she’s a naked and caged prisoner. Coward!”

“You’re nothing more than a slave, a nobleman’s toy with delusions of grandeur! How dare you lay a hand on me?!” he roared, his fury as genuine as my insults, neither of us playing a part any longer.

“You must not know who I am.” I purred dangerously, wrapping my hand around his balls through his pants, my telekinetic grip tight enough to hurt, but not quite enough to do damage. I was stilling trying to keep my head attached to my shoulders, after all, and while killing in the Academy wasn’t permitted, I had no idea if maiming was equally forbidden. “I am Vestara Khai. I won my place on Korriban by slaughtering my old master and his household guard, leading a slave revolt on Dromuund Kaas itself and earning the approval of Darth Marr, Dark Lord of the Sith, Master of the Sphere of Imperial Defence. No rushed trials or pampering for me, no Overseer holding my hands through each and every hurdle. I won my place here by spilling an ocean of Sith and Imperial blood and earning the favor of a Dark Councillor, and I have crushed every obstacle since then through nothing but my own strength. So either draw your blade and take this woman back from me, or crawl back to Baras’ office.”

Oh, I could sense -and see, for that matter- how badly he wanted to kill me. He was straining with desire to leap across the room and attack me, to lash out with his admittedly impressive power in the Force, but he didn’t dare. Thin though the veneer was, we were both here on the orders of the Inquisition, and he knew as well as I did that he wouldn’t survive their wrath if he fucked up their plans. Which meant, as much as it turned him apoplectic with fury and hate, he had no choice but to ‘retreat’. To yield. To appear weak, and I savoured his helpless knowledge of that fact as he shoved himself to his feet and stalked towards the door.

“This isn’t over yet, whore. I’ll see you and your pet broken, and rape this whore to death over your corpses.” he swore, every syllable dripping with cruel promise, and I bared my teeth at him in something that could charitably be called a smile.

“I look forward to seeing you try. One more dead pureblood on my tally.” I responded in kind, watching him leave before turning my attention to the prisoner Kory was tending to. She was covered in bruises, scrapes, cuts and burns from the torture she had endured at many hands, Kory tending to them as best she could, but her jade-green eyes were clear and strong all the same, and I smiled softly as I knelt down beside her, a flick of my wrist summoning a med-pack from the nearby wall. Opening it, I looked her over. “Well, now that the blue-blooded prick is gone, what say we lend you a hand?”

 The commando's eyes narrowed with suspicion, those gem-like orbs flicking back and forth between my face and the medical supplies in my hand, and I couldn't blame her for that mistrust. Certainly not under the circumstances, and certainly not after what she had been experiencing not moments ago at the hands of someone who was, so far as she was aware, a colleague of mine. Even with Kory's gentle ministrations, she was tense, coiled like a nexu ready to strike despite her injuries. And I had a feeling that, if she did, she could still do plenty of damage to either one of us if she put her mind to it.

"Why would a Sith help me? Against another Sith at that." she rasped, voice still raw from being choked. "Is this another game of your Inquisitors?"

"No, it’s not, and I’m helping you because not all of us are monsters." I said simply, keeping my voice low and passing several kolto dispensers to Kory, even as I set to work disinfecting her wounds. I tried not to admire her as I did it, but it was hard. She was a gorgeous woman, powerfully built with full breasts and a sex that had clearly once been clean-shaven, judging by the thin patch of auburn fuzz topping her folds. Even the scars that she bore only added to her beauty, rather than detracted from it, and I reminded myself to keep my touch clinical as I worked. “Some of us have been in positions not dissimilar to your own, and remember what it was like. Some of us aren’t willing to ignore it so easily when it happens right in front of our eyes.”

She flinched as the kolto made contact with a particularly deep cut, one with a burn surrounding it, on her toned shoulder, but her eyes never left mine, searching for any hint of deception.

"You expect me to believe that?" she asked, but there was a slight waver in her voice now. "After weeks of... this?" She gestured vaguely at her battered body.

“I don’t blame you for your doubts.” I sighed, lips quirking slightly as I considered things, hands going to my shirt as I talked. “You heard what he and I said to one another, I assume?”

“Yes, which is one reason I doubt it. Sith, training slaves to use the Force? If you’re going to come up with tall tales…” she scoffed, only to fall silent with a strangled gasp as I shed my clothes her eyes wide as they fell on the mundane scarring that littered my body…and the great, glowing rifts in my skin. In the face of that damage, I don’t think the two prisoners even noticed my cock, and I wondered what their faces would look like when they did. From the direction of the twi’lek I heard a savage invective, and my lips quirked.

“I was owned by a man named Arnuwanda Luwian, once. A member of the Spheres of Biotic Sciences and Ancient Knowledge, who fancied himself quite the researcher. When my mother got pregnant, he experimented on her for all nine months of her pregnancy, upto and including the day of my birth, which she didn’t survive. Then, it was my turn to go under his knife, with the results as you see before you. One-fourth man, three-fourths woman, with wounds on my flesh and soul that will never heal, rifts that shine day and night to mark me as something simultaneously more and less than human. A trophy he kept about for his own amusement, to show off to his colleagues to display his ‘mastery’ of the Dark Side.” I told her, and her eyes snapped down to the space between my legs. Or, rather, the lack of space, and her eyes widened as her mouth fell open with shock at the confirmation of my words. And, unless I was misreading her presence rather badly, at my girth as well. A soft giggle from Kory had her flushing and her eyes snapping back to my own, and I gave her a rogueish wink, before subsiding to a wan smile. “When I was strong enough, I made him suffer for what he had done to me, for the mistake he made when he kept me alive and in his house. Darth Marr found me in the aftermath, and rather than kill me for what I had done, he sent me here.”

“And she saved my life. I was going to be raped to death in the tombs, but she cut down everyone that came for me, man or woman alike, before arguing for my life to Lord Zash and the Overseers themselves. She saved me from death, saved me from slavery, and now she wants to do the same for you.” Kory added softly, still tending to the woman’s wounds, before shooting me an amused glance. “Though, she could stand to show a bit of shame and put her clothes back on, rather than swinging her manhood about to impress a few girls.”

“Hmph. I thought you liked it when I swung my manhood around. You certainly seem to beg for it often enough.” I ‘complained’, starting to redress all the same, both having made my point and wanting to avoid spoiling the bonding moment we were all having by getting aroused or otherwise looking like the unrepentant pervert that I absolutely was. A glance at the prisoner from beneath my lashes showed her blushing quite heavily, for the circumstances, with her eyes darting between my cock and my breasts, and I resisted the urge to grin at the almost reluctant arousal and appreciation that was laced through her soul. Shaking my head, I knelt down again. “At any rate, suffice to say I have no interest in watching you get raped to death and abused by people like that beast from before. I might not be able to save every slave in the Empire, but I can help you escape to safety.” I chanced a glance over at the twi’lek to confirm something, and smiled faintly as I saw it was, in fact, a crimson-skinned and black-tattooed Vette. “I’m afraid I can’t do the same for you, love, but you’re Darth Baras’ personal prisoner. Making one Republic trooper disappear is one thing, but a Darth’s pet project is another thing entirely. Not from here, anyway.”

“…I’ll accept you’re not like the others. You couldn’t fake what was done to you, and your story sounds a little too real to be made up as a trick, but that doesn’t mean that I trust you. “ she said, wincing and hissing through her teeth as I worked on a wound just below her right breast, one that spread across a good portion of her flank and rib-cage.

"I wouldn't expect you to," I replied honestly, finishing with the disinfectant and moving on to bandaging a deep cut on her arm. "Trust has to be earned. But right now, I'm your best chance of getting out of here alive. So give me something to work with, and I’ll prove it to you."

“…I ran to the tomb of Tulak Hord, tried to hide out in the middle of that slave revolt that’s going on out there. Ditched most of my gear out there to try and blend in, not that it did me any good. Your Inquisitor’s caught up and figured me out just fine anyway. I need you to find my equipment and bring it closer to the Academy, and I’ll need you to bring me my utility belt so I can get out of this cage.” she said after a long moment of silence, eyes probing me for deception still, not that I blamed her for it.

 "We can do that," I assured her, noting the way she'd carefully avoided giving us her name, or anything else we could use to identify her. Smart woman, even if it was fruitless given my meta knowledge. Not that I had proof, but I had her voice and I had her face, and I could make a damn fine guess. "But I need a bit more to go on. The tomb of Tulak Hord is vast, and there's more than one place you could have stashed your gear. Searching every hiding spot in the middle of a revolt and the garrison’s attempt to put it down won’t work out well for either of us.

She hesitated, eyes darting between Kory and me, clearly weighing her options. Finally, she sighed.

"Third level down, western chamber. There's a sarcophagus that was partially broken open, between the statues of two champions with slaves kneeling at their feet. I tucked everything behind it." She conceded, clearly reluctant despite the necessity of telling me. "The belt has an emergency beacon built in. If I can activate it, my extraction team will know I'm alive, and they’ll be able to track me for retrieval once I get out of here."

"Assuming they're still waiting for you after all this time." I pointed out gently, wondering if the SIS would send who I expected them too, or if he would be kept clear for certain entirely understandable reasons.

Her jaw tightened. "They are, I can gurantee it.” she ground out, before shaking her head. “Go on, get out of here, before someone decides to check in and hear what’s happening.” she gave me a small, wry, barely-hopeful half-smile. “I hope you’re on the up-and-up, Khai. I’d hate to think that, after everything you’ve been through, the Empire managed to turn you into the same kinds of people that did that to you.”

“That will never happen, I promise you that.” I told her, rising to my feet and meeting Kory’s eyes, tilting my head towards the door. “Kory will try to check in on you every once and a while when I’m absent, but I don’t know how successful she will be. One way or the other, though, we’re going to get you home to your family. Until then, stay here and stay strong.” my own lips quirked as I looked down at her. “I’d hate to think that, after everything you’ve been through and after I put our lives on the line for you, you’ll break before I can get you out.”

“That will never happen, I promise you that.” she parroted back to me, and I grinned and nodded in approval before turning my head and leaving.

Chapter Text

This wasn’t at all how I expected things to go when it came to rescuing someone from the Sith Academy, and it wasn’t what I had expected when it came to making my way to the Tomb of Tulak Hord, either. Still, I wasn’t going to complain, given all the myriad opportunities that this provided to me, and if I recalled correctly, one of those opportunities would be getting a lightsaber quite early. From an apprentice that had tried and failed to stop the slave revolt from expanding to it’s current size, only to die in the attempt. Bravely, but futilely, and stupidly if I was going to be honest. She had been in no position to succeed in her self-assigned mission, and while it didn’t seem to have been from the same arrogance that killed so many Sith, but instead a sense of duty, it was stupid all the same.

Of course, my Trial, the rescue mission, and the lightsaber were hardly my only goals here, and I resisted the urge to grin as I descended out of the sun into the bypass-tomb leading to the portion of the valley that Tulak’s Tomb resided in. Rather more specifically, I grinned at the weathered, balding man that was examining a small container full of relics.

“Hmm? Oh! Come closer, if you please, young acolyte.” his head came up as my footsteps echoed off of the stone, turning towards me and squinting faintly. “The winds of Korriban have torn my ears to tatters, and my eyes have grown strained and bloody in the darkness.”

An exaggeration, I could tell that much just by looking at him, but as flowery as his phrasing was, I had little doubt that his eyes and ears had been compromised by a lifetime on Korriban.

“I have spent much of my life studying the Tomb of Tulak Hord. Slept on it’s stones and searched through it’s shadows, dreamed in it’s deepest portions. Nearly every secret this place holds is mine, every scrap of knowledge and ancient wisdom. Nearly. I would ask for your help to solve the last.”

“And you are whom, exactly?” I asked, raising my eyebrows, the question an honest one. I remembered the quest, of course, but at the moment I didn’t recall his name.

“I am called Ephran Zell. For many generations, my family has dedicated themselves to studying the tombs of Korriban, travelling from one to another to learn the vast histories of the greatest Sith. You stand on the precipice of the maze that The Lord of Hate had constructed, to his most exacting specifications. But this maze-tomb was not built only to hold his body, but to secure one of his mightiest creations, a device of incredible sorcerous power and cleverness. The Red Engine.”

“The Red Engine. An imposing name, and you said it was one of his greatest creations? What was it?” I asked, making sure I sounded genuinely curious, though sounding genuinely interested was at least a fairly simple task.

“It was his life’s work. A supposedly unsolvable puzzle that contained all of his deepest secrets. A library of incredibly potent knowledge, and a vault to hold it safe at the same time.” he exclaimed, hands moving to and fro in his excitement, a smile on his face, though it faded into a scowl as he continued. “The scholars in the Academy, the Lords and Ladies of Ancient Knowledge…they claim that he never finished it, that it is incapable of functioning as it was meant to, but I know better. I know how it works, and I know how to fuel it.”

“What do you mean fuel it? And if you understand it, why not present your information, your proof, to the Academy?”

“Bah! You think I haven’t tried that? Arrogant fools, they believe that I, I who am not a Sith nor an educated man, could not possibly discover the truth that has eluded them for so many generation! They are blinded, unable to see the same truths that are so clear to me! As if my kin and I have not lived amongst these sands long before they returned from their exile and reclaimed this world from the Republic!” he groused, the words quickly becoming a furious snarl as he gesticulated somewhat spastically in his passion. Words that would probably get him killed, if the wrong person heard them, but I couldn’t say he didn’t have a point. ‘We’ had only reconquered Korriban some thirty years ago, so if he was saying that generations of his family had lived amongst and studied the tombs, they must have been here even in ‘our’ absence. “They do not see what I see: the Red Engine must be offered a great sacrifice. Not of helpless, whimpering captives with throats cut upon an altar, but the truest form of worship the Master of War would approve of: battle! Draw some beasts into the tomb! Spill their blood, let yours be spilled in turn! Let the Red Engine sup on the water of battle, drink deep the ichor of conquest, and it will reveal all it holds to you. Then, when you have taken it’s secrets for your own, bring them to me!”

I murmured something and stepped away, glad in that moment that he didn’t possess the Force, because he was clearly insane. He might know a lot of things about the tombs of Korriban, and he might be getting ignored by the Sith and the formally trained scholars unjustly, but he was also completely around the bend. Not surprising, in hindsight, as a non-Force user who lived -in every sense of the word- in tombs so permeated with the Dark Side and with Sith Force Ghosts of such might that even Sith and Imperial veterans were driven insane by their presence, but whether it was surprising or not was entirely irrelevant.

To my surprise, the body of the apprentice I expected to find just past him wasn’t there. Instead, the space her body had lain in the game was occupied only by the same damaged urns that littered so many of the tombs and ruins on-world. Interesting, though maybe that made sense. If she had been here, she wouldn’t have been anywhere near the slaves and the mining droids that had dealt her the injuries that had killed her.

That could prove problematic, given I really wanted to have a lightsaber on hand before I dealt with anything approaching a slave rebellion, but I would just have to hope for the best. At least I was used to it by this point. And at least I would be able to reach the first of Tulak Hord’s colossal tablet-monuments fairly easily as well. As I started to make may way through the ancient stone halls, I idly wondered if it would appear as large as it did in the game.

Twenty minutes later, I was able to confirm that it was even larger, and that there had to be some sort of sorcery involved in making the damn thing, given the fact that it was at least a hundred feet tall and thirty wide and I could still pick out each and every cuneiform symbol with ease. Whether it was the lighting or the tablet itself, I couldn’t tell, but there was no way that the ease with which I read the damn thing was natural. I couldn’t translate it, though, not yet. I was nowhere near proficient enough in Ancient Sith to do that on the fly, but I looked forward to doing it later. Knowledge was power, after all, especially when you were looking down the barrel of a master that deliberately wanted you as weak and untrained as she could get away with. Not that it would do her any good. Even if Khem Val didn’t intervene the way he had in the game, the likelihood of Zash being able to take over my mind with Kallig bound to me was…minimal, to say the least.

Letting me get myself killed during my trials was one thing, but letting some bitch who was killing herself with her experimentation kill my soul and take over my body? Not bloody likely! There was a reason I hadn’t talked to him about it very much, and that reason was the -in my opinion very legitimate- concern that he would simply tear her apart and call it a day. As much as it would make a good test for me, in his opinion, if I failed it, it would lead to further disgrace of our family. Dying in battle or failing a trial, fine, but letting someone steal my body and deceitfully extend our bloodline in doing so was something else entirely. Or so I thought, at any rate, and I wasn’t keen to test my hypothesis.

Shaking my head, I noted down the last few symbols and turned on my heel, heading to the next antechamber over, and thence the staircase that would lead me back into the bright, arid air…and into the midst of the slave rebellion. A slave rebellion I was going to have to cut my way through, and I couldn’t help the bitter twist my mouth took on at the irony of that fact. The once-rebellious slave, now killing those who dreamed of achieving the same freedoms that she had taken for herself. Oh, it was necessary. I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to survive, and I couldn’t change the Empire for the better and help all of the slaves if I died here, but that wasn’t particularly soothing. In fact, it felt any awful lot like making an excuse, regardless of how true it might be, and it didn’t sit well with me.

“Be careful out there, Acolyte. There are a lot of those bastards, and the mining droids are no joke. Built to take a lot of damage, they are.” a guardsman informed me as I strolled past him and set foot on the staircase, earning an appreciative hand-wave in response. It was information that wasn’t surprising to me, but it was helpful all the same, and the fact that he had made the effort was nice, and I was still faintly smiling as I ascended into the large courtyard -for want of a better word- that held my many current objectives…and my many future victims. As I drew my vibroblade, I idly wondered what was going on with my Kory, and if she was able to visit our…foreign friend.

Two redheads in one room, three if you counted Vette. I wondered how that would go?

###################################################################################

“…bent me over the sarcophagus and totally ruined me. I could barely walk afterwards, honestly, just stumbled along behind her until we found Spindrall.”

“So, wait, you’d just both risked getting raped to death to get the drop on a bunch of looters, in a k’lor slug infested tomb, and your immediate response was to walk for a few minutes and promptly start fucking? Using a dead sith’s sarcophagus as a literal fucking table?” the twi’lek, who Kory had learned was named Vette, asked in a passionate mingle of arousal, shock, bafflement, and awe. “Are you insane?”

“I mean, there weren’t a lot of people in the area anymore, and Ves wasn’t in the mood to wait any longer.” Kory muttered a bit sheepishly in response, tugging on her hair a bit out of habit, though she shivered lightly and couldn’t help but grin. “Which just made it better, somehow. I never thought I’d enjoy being a submissive slut all the time, not after being a slave my whole life, but I have to say, there’s something about Ves that just…”

She trailed off with something that was halfway between a sigh and a moan, leaving the still-unnamed commando and the twi’lek to exchange looks, both of them blushing, though it was admittedly far harder to see on Vette’s crimson skin.

“I still don’t get it. How can you go from being a slave, to being a Sith acolyte, to happily being a slave again.” the commando finally voiced, shaking her head in genuine, abject confusion, and Kory looked over at her with a slightly furrowed brow. Waving a hand slightly, the prisoner continued. “I mean, sure, it’s different. Khai obviously cares about you, but I don’t understand how you’re fine just…letting her do whatever she wants to you all the time, instead of trying to be your own person.”

“I am my own person. That’s why I chose to give myself to my Mistress.” Kory retorted a bit sharply, and quite primly, pouting slightly. “I know that she cares about me, that she has nearly died several times to keep me safe, put the fear of the gods into anyone who has so much as looked at me wrong. I know that she would let me go with you to the other side of the galaxy in a heartbeat if I asked her, and I know that she’ll offer even if I don’t, which is exactly why I’m not going anywhere.” she paused for a moment, oddly intent on making sure that her audience was paying proper attention to her, which they were. The surprised looks on their faces at her transformation from mousey, if perverted, meekness to passionate monologuing was almost funny. “I can’t fight beside her, I can’t run her House or perform rituals or command starships, but I can love her. I can keep her warm, hold her as she sleeps, take every ounce of pleasure and pain she offers, every piece of stress and and tension she wants to pour into me, and I’ll do it with a smile because that’s how I can be of service to her. And that makes me happy in a way that words can’t explain.”

“…well, you’re certainly passionate about her, I can say that much. And far be it for me to judge what people do in the bedroom, as long as everyone is a consenting adult.” the soldier subsided, holding her hands up slightly and adjusting her position to be a tad more comfortable. “I’ll even admit that she seems to be a decent sort, better than I would expect of any Sith, and certainly better than one whose been through what she seems to have been through. Most people would be raving lunatics bent of revenge or spreading their suffering around, but she’s just…”

“A pervert. Say, how did a girl as small as you fit that cock into her holes, anyway? Like, she was pretty soft when she stripped down in here, and she was still the biggest thing I’ve ever seen. Shouldn’t she have just…split you in half? Torn something?” Vette asked eagerly, shamelessly, apparently unaware -or uncaring- of the irony inherent to calling someone else a pervert, then talking about their cock and someone’s ability to handle it.

 Kory laughed, bright and clear. "The first time? I thought she might, and gods know it was a hell of a stretch. But Mistress was... well, not gentle. Maybe not even patient. But gentle and patient enough for me to ride right on the edge of too much and just enough." Her eyes took on a dreamy quality, a purring giggle spilling from her lips. "And there's something about Sith alchemy that makes everything... more, it seems. More intense, more pleasurable, more possible. I may not be happy about everything that sadistic bastard did to her, but there are a few perks, and that’s certainly one of them."

The commando coughed awkwardly, trying to look as though she had no interest in the subject, not that either of the other two believed it for a moment. Kory didn’t even need to sense her interest and mild arousal in the Force to know that she was faking her aloofness. "Right. Moving on from your sex life—"

"Why?" Vette interjected, sounding genuinely confused. "It's the most interesting thing happening since I got locked up in here, and it’s better than just sitting around to get tortured or to see if Khai makes it back in one piece." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "So this Spindrall guy just watched you two go at it?"

"Oh, no!" Kory's eyes widened, shaking her head and gagging slightly. “Ugh, no. He’s probably sixty years old, maybe more, that would be disgusting. No, we found him a little while later, he has his own section of the tomb that he lives in.” she frowned slightly as she remembered what happened next. “He was actually really mad about it, though. Said that we’d defiled a sacred tomb, and he would have killed us if it wasn’t for the fact that we killed so many of the looters. Ves had to talk pretty fast after that, then she had to kill a half-dozen other acolytes to keep Spindrall from having me killed anyway.”

“Sure, sure, that’s all awesome and stuff, and I’m glad you’re alive, but that isn’t really important right now.” Vette quite literally waved away the feat, clearly focused on better things: sex. “So your hero save you, and then what? Victory sex?”

“You know, for someone that called Khai a pervert, you’re awfully focused on getting all the details about how she sleeps with people.” the commando drawled, pinching the bridge of her nose, and Vette scoffed and raised an eyeridge at her.

“Look, I know all you Pubs are a bunch of prudes, probably thanks to those Jedi you all follow around, but the rest of the galaxy knows how to have a little fun. Besides, unless things go really well for me, I’m going to spend the rest of my probably-short life getting gang-raped. That, or Baras will toss me to that pet psychopath that was torturing you, which would be worse, since I’m pretty sure he’d keep me around for a while instead of finishing with me quickly.” she retorted, posting her hands on her hips, legs a shoulder-width apart, uncaring of the way it displayed her faintly glistening folds. Clearly, Kory though with distinct approval and appreciation, the other slave had good taste if she was getting visibly turned on by hearing about Ves’ sexual prowess, even while locked in a cage. Ignoring the woman as she spluttered, Vette turned her eyes back to Kory. “Now, I want you to keep talking. Tell me everything about what happened next.”

“Well, we picked a dorm room, and she fucked me in the shower. Or maybe I fucked myself on her, I guess? I bent over and spread my legs, and once she was in me, she just stood there and made me do all the work. Force, it was torture, trying to make myself move, it felt so good. There was something about being the one doing all the work, just…giving her what she wanted from me, it was amazing.” she explained, expression still a bit dreamy, nibbling on her bottom lip in a way that could only be described as a combination of cute and alluring. “It got even better when she brought Malora back to our room and made her bottom for both of us. I think that’s when I finally just…embraced everything completely.”

“Oh, I have got to hear this.” Vette purred, hugging her stomach lightly, and as Kory launched into a detailed explanation of how she and her mistress had taken a cocky Apprentice in hand and turned her into a desperately mewling mess, she couldn’t help but smirk to herself in distinct satisfaction at how eagerly both members of her audience were listening.

It was a pity that they wouldn’t get the chance to experience Ves’ attentions personally, really.

##################################################################

…eh, I’m sure it was fine. It wasn’t as if Kory would be able to just hang around there, anyway. ‘Cunning plan’ or not, the Inquisition and the Jailers wouldn’t let her for the sake of strategic security or some such. Besides, she was too quiet and, well, mousey, to cause any problems or even leave my room all that often without me nearby. It was cute, it was sweet, and it was arousing as hell, even if some people would insist it shouldn’t be. So what if I wanted a damsel-in-distress or two in my family, quiet and ever-submissive playthings to protect and cuddle? I would have amazonian warrior-women too, damnit! Like Nicky, or Lana! There was room in the harem for many personality types!

I emerged into the sunlight, and even before I could finish blinking from the change in luminosity, I found myself under attack.

"For freedom!" A human male charged at me, wielding what looked like a broken piece of mining equipment. His eyes were wild, desperate—the eyes of someone who had nothing left to lose. I could sympathize with that feeling, sympathize with almost everything about him, but I couldn’t let that sympathy dictate a damn thing. Not this time.

I sidestepped his clumsy attack easily and brought my vibroblade down in a swift arc. The blade hummed as it cut through flesh and bone, biting through his rough garments to sever his spine, dropping him to the ground instantly. He didn't even have time to scream, may not have even felt a thing before he died. I hoped that was the case.

 A chorus of shouts drew my eyes to three more figures rushing towards me—two humans and a Twi'lek, all clutching equally makeshift weapons as the first. Their determination -if I was going to be generous enough to call it anything other than ‘desperate’- was admirable, but it was pointless, and they knew it. It was easy to tell, the despair clinging to them like a noxious cloud, and I found it as disgusting as most other Sith would have found it intoxicating.

"We won't go back!" the Twi'lek shouted, her lekku twitching with agitation, her arms trembling as she held up her weapon.

I didn't answer. Words wouldn't help here. Instead, I channeled the Force into my legs and leapt, clearing their heads and landing behind them. Before they could turn, I'd already slashed my vibroblade across the necks of the two humans, neatly severing the head of one and almost doing the same with the second, not that he survived it regardless. The Twi'lek managed to spin around, but her eyes widened as I extended my hand, lifting her off the ground with the Force.

"I'm sorry." was all I said, before clenching my hand into a fist and breaking her neck, the sickening crack echoing off the stones. She hung there for a moment, limp and lifeless, before I slowly -respectfully, even- lowered her to lie beside her friends. Not that it meant anything to her, anymore, to have her body treated with the thinnest of respects, but it meant something to me.

I set off again, darting across the sands with preternatural speed, only for a glow outside the corner of my eye to bring me skidding to a dusty stop. There, right where he had stood in the game, was the Slave Rebellion Leader, and much like in the game he had a pair of guards with him, two hulking male humans carrying vibroblades and blaster carbines. None of that, necessarily, had caught my eye though. No, what had caught my eye was the fact that he was holding -and waving around, which was a damn dangerous thing to do- the missing, dead apprentice’s lightsaber. On the one hand, at least I knew where it was. On the other, it wasn’t lying in some shadowed corner of the tomb, but was instead in the hands of a very large, very dangerous man.

That being said, Force Lightning would cure what ailed me.

 I approached cautiously, keeping my vibroblade ready. The leader noticed me immediately, to his credit, his eyes narrowing with recognition as he took me in. He must have seen other acolytes before—probably killed them too, judging by the confidence with which he brandished the lightsaber. Better than I would have expected for someone without proper training, but perhaps he had -in his past life, whatever he had been before becoming a slave- possessed some experience with blades. It wouldn’t be quite the same, of course, but it could easily be enough.

"Another of the Sith's dogs, eh?" he spat, the crimson blade of the lightsaber humming menacingly in his grip. "Come to put us back in chains, bitch?"

His two guards moved to flank him, raising their carbines. I could feel the Force stirring around me, responding to the danger and my own rising tension. This wasn't going to be like the other slaves—this man had a weapon that could actually hurt me, and he looked like he at least somewhat knew how to use it. And charging him would be difficult, thanks to the two blaster rifles his guards had pointed at me.

“No, I’m not. I’m here to take that lightsaber back. Whether you live or die is up to you. I’m perfectly happy to take the saber and carrying on with my trials before fucking off back to the Academy. No skin off my nose if our and yours want to hunker down out here and thumb your nose at the higher-ups.” I responded calmly, hoping against hope that he would, for some reason, decide that he really did want to just give me the lightsaber and let me go about my business without a hassle. The things he instead said to me, and told me to do, were completely impossible -even with the power of the Force-, but were impressive in their creativity. “I see. That would be a no then.”

Rather than launching a direct, overt attacking on the three of them with the Force, they way they probably expected, I decided that ‘if you’re not cheating, you’re not trying’ was the order of the day. Laying a metaphysical grip over one of the two riflemen, I yanked the barrel of his weapon around and forced his finger to pull the trigger. Bolts of excited plasma flickered across the space that separated them, drilling into the second man’s body, sending him reeling from the fresh, smoking wounds.

Before the first guard could even register what had happened, what I had made him do, I used my grip on him to throw him backwards, slamming head headfirst with skull-shattering speed into the stone plinth the leader was standing on. His soul winked out of existence as his head was turned into a bloody smear, his corpse slumping to the ground as the leader leapt down with a bellow of fury.

"You Sith are all the same!" The leader roared as he charged at me, swinging the lightsaber in wild, powerful arcs. "Treacherous snakes and cowards!"

I retreated, smoothly giving ground as I evaluated him, keeping my mouth shut and my attention focused on the buzzing crimson blade. He was stronger than me physically, but untrained with the weapon. Each swing left him open, vulnerable, but not quite vulnerable enough for me to counter-attack just yet. Not until I had a better idea of his abilities. I could feel the Force coiling around us, the eyes of the Dark Side watching with palpable attention, a hunger that I was sure even my Force-blind enemy could sense, and I grimaced faintly as I imagined that it was getting it's hooks just a little bit deeper into me.

 I feinted to the right, drawing him into overextending, and as his lightsaber carved a glowing path through empty air, I seized my moment. Lightning erupted from my fingertips, crackling through the space between us, but to my surprise, he managed to bring the saber back around and up just in time. The red blade caught the lightning, absorbing much of it as he gritted his teeth against the force pushing him backward and the static corona of my attack that lashed at his arms.

"Not my first time fighting your kind, whore." he snarled, sweat beading on his brow, his eyes wild but intensely focused. "Killed three acolytes before you. Your fancy tricks won't work so easily on me!"

So he did have experience. That complicated matters, to a certain degree. Unfortunately for him, I had other ideas, and they included things that he probably hadn’t used on him. I inhaled, low and long and deep, gathering the Force in my lungs and vocal chords, and then I screamed like a banshee right in his face. And just as it had when I had first used this ability in my desperation to survive Spindrall’s lair, the effects were devastating. He stumbled back, blood dripping from his eyes and nose and ears, and I took a moment to be impressed by the fact that he had managed to keep hold of his plundered lightsaber -even managing to keep it somewhat-raised and pointed in my general direction- before I planted my vibrosword hilt deep in his chest. He collapsed, dropping the saber at last, it’s blade flickering out as it thumped to the sand, his hands going to my sword hilt. He writhed there for a short eternity, trying to removed the thing that was killing him with rapidly-weakening limbs, before finally falling still. I stared at him for a moment, silently contemplating everything and nothing at the same time, before turning away with a flicker of thought that had the slender silver cylinder leaping into my hand. Clipping ‘my’ new weapon to my waist, I started towards the great stone threshold before me. The threshold that would lead me towards the second tablet, and to the Red Engine.

Chapter Text

The stench of ozone, roasted flesh, and scorched chitin clung thickly to me, filled the air around me, and I resisted the urge to gag only through more experience than was remotely preferable with exactly those scents as I surveyed the destruction that had been wrought in my efforts to feed the Red Engine thus far. To my surprise, and no small amount of fear, I had to admit, I had found that this was something else accurate to the game, because the Engine had obliterated -thus far- two of the three walls at the chamber's cardinal directions and unleashed the score or so of k'lor slugs that had been living in the spaces behind them. There weren't many, compared to the numbers I had been forced to confront previously, but they were far more powerful. Whether twisted by Sorcery or Alchemy, or even simply ravenous with hunger, they had hurled themselves at me with abandon and taken an atrocious amount of effort and force to bring down. If it wasn't for the lightsaber I now carried, I would likely have been forced to expend far to much energy -physical and spiritual alike- to make killing whatever it was that lay behind the final wall a simple (or perhaps even possible) task. God, I hoped it wasn't as hard as the final k'lor slug from this quest in the game had been. I'd died so many times trying to solo that, back before it had been possible to have companions at level 1. Of course, that was because it was a Heroic Quest that, at the time, had required a party of at least three players, but that's entirely beside the point and quite irrelevant to the number of times I had died.

The important thing was that I was going to -judging by the lightning pooling above the Red Engine- find out exactly what I had to deal with in short order. And while I was considerably more powerful than 'I' would have been at this stage in the game, and had an interested ancestor riding side-saddle to rely on, I somehow doubted my opponent was going to be weaker. God knows that just wasn't how anything worked, after all. A moment later, the lightning lanced out to obliterate the final wall still standing, and there was a chorus of high-pitched shrieks as k'lor slugs poured out of the dust…followed by a deeper, rumbling shriek that heralded a k'lor slug large enough that it could probably match a starfighter in width and exceed it in length.

"Well fuck." I sighed in the brief moment I had before all turned to chaos.

The massive k'lor slug's body undulated as it emerged, its many clawed feet clicking on the stones, its carapace gleaming wetly in the eerie light of the Red Engine. Unlike its smaller kin, this monstrosity bore pulsing red veins across its armored hide, and where the others had the standard concentric rings of teeth, this one had three sets of massive, serrated mandibles, each dripping with caustic saliva that hissed when it struck the stone floor. Not just venom to inject, then, but some sort of acidic glands. Which probably meant I had to worry about ranged attacks of some kind.

"Hmm. An impressive specimen, though not a natural one. A matriarch, but subjected to sorcery. My once-friend protects his secrets well. He was never fond of terentatek or most other guardian-beasts. Were you wise, you would consider killing the lesser beasts quickly so that you can focus on the greater unhindered." Kallig mused in the back of my mind, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes or snap something in response, well aware that he would chastise me for it later if I did. Besides, stating the obvious or not, he was right. Better still, there weren't more than four of the smaller beasts, which meant dealing with them would be a matter of moments rather than minutes.

I surged forward, drawing the Force around me like a cloak to quicken my feet as I charged, lightsaber humming in my hand. The smaller k'lor slugs, sensing my approach, scattered in different directions—a primitive but effective tactic meant to divide my attention. Most of their kind didn't bother, and I idly wondered if it was due to the presence of the modified matriarch, not that the why was remotely important at the moment.

"Not today!" I muttered, pivoting sharply and sweeping my blade in a wide arc. Two of the smaller slugs immediately lost their forward segments, their bodies spasming as ichor sprayed across the ancient stones, the all-encompassing stench of battle becoming thicker still. The third attempted to flank me, its maw gaping wide, but I thrust out my left hand and seized it with the Force, crushing its carapace with a sickening, squelching crunch before hurling the twitching mass at the fourth.

The collision -or, perhaps more accurately, the fact that it knocked the beast to the ground for a few moments- bought me precious seconds, seconds I took full advantage of to pick up the corpses of the other two and hurl them right at the mouth of the matriarch. I hoped, prayed really, that it's instincts were much the same as any of it's smaller brethren. A hope that was quickly born out as, for all the modifications and manipulations it had clearly been subjected to, slightly-cooked meat being thrown practically down it's throat was enough to have it tearing into its once-children with hungry abandon. A distraction that wouldn't last anywhere near long enough for me to be able to do any real damage to the damn thing, but sufficient for me to kill the last of it's companions with a concentrated torrent of lightning.

The matriarch finished its grisly meal only moments after the smoking corpse finally stopped moving, it's mandibles working methodically as it consumed the meal I had so generously provided it with. Its many eyes -another difference that set it apart from the others, k'lor slugs usually lacking anything resembling eyes- swiveled to lock onto me, and I could feel a malevolent intelligence there that far exceeded its lesser kin. As powerful, even controlling, as it's baser instincts were, this one wasn't a dumb, instinct-ruled beast.

"It hungers still, blood of my blood." Kallig observed unnecessarily, though his words grew steadily more useful as he continued. "And it sees you as the next course. But it knows you are no easy prey. It's hunger wars with it's wisdom…or what passes for wisdom, at any rate."

The massive creature reared back, its segmented body rising nearly to the chamber's ceiling, and I didn't need to have precognition to have a damn good guess about what it was going to do. Which is why I flash-stepped a dozen yards to the side just in time to avoid the stream of yellowish fluid that splattered across the stones where I'd been standing a heartbeat earlier. The floor hissed and bubbled, the topmost layer of stone slurring into steaming, reeking slag, a thick and doubtlessly caustic cloud of steam rising into the air above it.

"Called it. That's just fucking fantastic." I muttered unhappily, rolling to my feet and circling the beast, eyeing how it moved in the space that it had available. Space that suddenly felt far too small for this confrontation, though at least it wasn't as small as it would have been if there were more people present. "Any weaknesses you'd care to share, oh wise ancestor?"

"The underside of it's rear half will have the weakest chitin, the top of it's whole length and the underside of it's front half the strongest. The inside of it's mouth, perhaps, will be the most prominent weakness, as it tends to be for most creatures." he responded thoughtfully, and I could feel him 'watching' my enemy through my eyes. "Of course, that assumes that it hasn't been modified even more than it so clearly has."

"No matter how much it's been modified, it's still a k'lor slug. Even if it's weak points are stronger than a regular slug's strong points, they're still weak points." I returned, dodging another spray of acid with a bit more grace than the first time. "Of course, that doesn't mean I'll be able to actually penetrate those weak points, but at least I know where my best chance can be found. God, I hope this modified chitin doesn't act like cortosis."

"Cortosis? I have not heard of this. What is it?" Kallig's tone was one of interest, though I almost laughed at how casual it was given the current circumstances. Even if he wasn't the one whose life was on the line, a little bit of tension on my behalf wasn't uncalled for. Even if he had faith that I would win handily, which I could only hope was the cause for his current equanimity.

"We can talk more about it later. Long story short, a special ore that is highly resistant to energy and is capable of causing lightsabers to short out entirely." I responded briskly, smiling despite myself at the pulse of fascination and interest that flowed from his mind to mine. It must have been discovered at some point in the intervening two or three millennia between Kallig's lifetime and Revan's, and I idly wondered how that discovery had played out, and what the immediate results had been. Maybe I would look it up sometime, provided I lived long enough. I still had the matriarch to deal with, after all, and I doubted I could dodge forever. Of course, getting up close and personnel might not be the best choice either. I might be fast, but it had a whole lot of legs to try and hit me with too.

"Well, if I can't beat it with brawn, let's try brains." I muttered, watching the beast's movements carefully. The matriarch was fast for its size, but there was a pattern to its attacks—a moment of stillness before it spewed acid, a slight twitch of its forward segments before it lunged. Better still, in a room this restricted, it couldn't turn or change course as quickly as it might have otherwise been capable of. That was good, but I needed more. I needed a definitive advantage that I could use again it. A thought occurred: if the matriarch and her brood had been placed here to guard and/or fuel the Red Engine, then perhaps…

I circled wider, putting the glowing Red Engine between us. The ancient device cast long, distorted shadows across the chamber, and I could feel its power humming through the stone beneath my feet. It's presence in the Force was tangible, a roiling flame that, though hidden behind a veil, could still be seen and felt and feared. The matriarch seemed to sense it too, its movements becoming more agitated as it scuttled around the perimeter, unwilling to cross directly through the Engine's pulsing red light. That, or…

"Interesting." Kallig murmured in the back of my mind. "It fears the Engine. Or perhaps it was conditioned to protect it without touching it. A clever ploy, child, but now that you know, how will you make use of this knowledge?"

That was a fantastic question, and one that I unfortunately didn't have an answer to yet.

The matriarch's hesitation around the Red Engine was a weakness—possibly the only one I could exploit that wouldn't involve getting close enough to be torn apart by those acid-dripping mandibles, but taking advantage of it was one hell of a question mark. It wasn't like I could encourage the Red Engine to attack it, somehow, so as useful as being able to use the damn thing as a shield was -and it was very, very useful-, I wasn't sure what else I could do with what I had learned. Still, maybe…

I side-strafed further, testing my theory, watching as the massive creature tracked me but maintained its distance from the pulsing heart of the chamber, trying to circle around it rather than come directly towards me, chattering in what I could easily sense was -in more human terms- impotent fury and frustration. Further confirmation, that was good, but it was passive confirmation. I needed something more, and there was really only one way to do that.

With a calculated, perhaps even foolhardy, risk, I feinted toward the beast, lashing out with lightning from close range before retreating back towards the Engine itself. The matriarch lunged after me, clawed forelimbs cratering the stone as it tried to strike and pursue at once…and then it abruptly halted, its segmented body contorting unnaturally as it fought against some invisible boundary. The floor beneath its countless legs cracked as it strained forward, mandibles clacking in frustrated rage, before it retreated several paces.

"So there is a threshold it won't cross, can't cross. Even if it's been injured by something inside of the perimeter, it won't pursue past it or breach it in any other way. It's not even trying to hit me with the acid." I observed, with something that probably smacked a little too much of abject relief for my ancestor to be entirely pleased, before I smiled. "That being the case, then, all I have to do is stay here and throw lightning at it until it goes down. Not the most courageous or heroic of plans, but it will work, and I rather like living."

"Hmph. It will also be time-consuming, child, so I would suggest getting started as soon as possible if you're set on this plan." my ancestor grumbled, clearly hoping for something a bit more dramatic and impressive on my part, but unwilling to chastise me for finally displaying some caution and tactical wisdom after having demanded I do exactly that more-or-less since we had met. Besides, he probably recognized that I was not remotely capable, yet, of taking a creature like this on one-on-one just yet. Discretion is the better part of valor, and all that. Pooling my power into my hands, I unleashed a long stream of lightning at the matriarch's mouth and mandibles, and while most splashed fairly harmlessly across it's armor, enough struck it's soft and wet innards to cause sufficient pain to have in shrieking and snarling in futile, pained fury. After a long moment of this, he continued. "If we are going to sit here doing this for the foreseeable, future, I expect you to explain this 'cortosis' to me. Such a thing hadn't been discovered yet in my lifetime, and I would hear more about it. Is it related in someway to the beskar of the Qo Hyal Asha?"

It would have taken me a moment to translate the Ancient Sith if it wasn't for his reference to beskar, and before I answered I took a moment to wonder why he had used the proper Mando'a name for the metal, but not referred to the people themselves as Mando'ade. Then again 'Those Who Crave the Path of Victory' was a very poetic, and honestly quite flattering, way to refer to the Mandalorians. Using the Ancient Sith term must have been an indication of respect on his part, and I made a mental note to ask him what experiences he had with the sons and daughters of Mandalore when I finished explaining cortosis to him.

"No, it's not beskar, modified or otherwise, but it's own naturally occurring ore. Very hard to mine, because of the energy currents it generates when still in ore form. If it's not mined properly, it's capable of killing a full-grown Hutt in seconds." I responded, shaking my head and fingers alike, cutting off the lightning for a moment and observing the progress -such as it was- in killing the damn thing. Sighing and recognizing I still had a long way to go, I started again. "While beskar'gam is lightsaber and blaster resistant, it's not immune, and it's not detrimental to either of them. Cortosis will short out a lightsaber, for a few minutes at the very least, and will reduce the efficacy of blasters used against it by a significant amount, though if you hammered it hard enough with either it would be breached eventually. I think the reduction was something like seventy percent or more, though that depends on the thickness of the armor, the purity and amount of cortosis used, and of course the size and power of the blaster being used. Almost impossible to get, though, even on the black markets. Even the Dark Council would struggle to get their hands on more than could be used to make a single sword or a lightly-laced suit of armor."

 "Fascinating, and possessing so many possibilities." Kallig murmured, and I could feel his mind racing with those same possibilities and implications, and no small amount of envy. "Such a material would have been invaluable in my time. The Sith Lords would have slaughtered each other for even rumors of its existence."

I continued my assault on the matriarch, maintaining a steady stream of lightning while circling within my safe zone, trying to improve my angle of attack to work things more quickly, grateful that it's desire to kill me was greater than it's desire to protect itself and move it's vulnerable areas out of my line of fire. The beast's movements were becoming more erratic, its mandibles snapping at empty air as it tried to find some way past its invisible barrier. The acrid smell of burning chitin joined the already nauseating cocktail of scents filling the chamber.

"The Republic and Empire both regulate it heavily, really heavily." I explained, pausing briefly to catch my breath. "The Jedi pushed for legislation making private ownership illegal outside of specific scientific applications, and the Republic caved pretty quickly from what I understand. Even the Empire restricts it, though not quite that strongly. Can't have assassins running around with cortosis weapons that could disable a Lord's primary weapon and leave them helpless to members of the lesser castes, after all."

"Hmm. I wonder if it could be alchemically enhanced further, or perhaps manipulated through sorcery. The applications, and the benefits therein, could be... substantial." he mused thoughtfully, curiously, eagerly. "Daughter of my daughters, you must acquire some of this metal. I wish to experiment with it, and I wish for you to hold such an advantage as you rebuild our house."

"Let's focus on surviving this encounter before planning future research projects," I suggested dryly. "Besides, if cortosis were easy to manipulate, the Empire would have armored everything with it by now, wouldn't it?"

"Hmph. Not necessarily." he said with an audible and genuinely contemptuous sniff of disdain. "This Empire of yours is a pale shadow of the one Tulak Hord and I forged, or even the ancients that came before us. It is entirely lacking in wisdom and good sense, so I should hardly be surprised if they are so enamored with brute force and direct applications that the more subtle and clever arts have escaped their consideration entirely. You, my child, will doubtlessly prove wiser."

"If only because I have you riding herd on me, right?" I asked sardonically, tone more than a little wry, and he pulsed a wave of comfortable, pleased confirmation at me, a nonverbal reply that was nonetheless impossible to misunderstand, and I rolled my eyes with a mutter. "Of course, how could it be any other way?"

The matriarch's thrashing grew more desperate as my lightning continued to cook it from the inside out, it's shrieks fainter and more ragged than they had been before. Its mandibles clacked together in what I could only interpret as frustration and pain, acid dripping uselessly to the floor beyond the invisible boundary it couldn't cross. The stench was becoming almost unbearable now—burnt chitin had a particularly noxious odor that clung to everything, including the inside of my nostrils. I could sense the light, the spark, of it's life guttering and flickering, struggling to stay alight. It was nearly dead, now, one final effort was all that remained to finish it -and this whole unpleasant affair- off.

Gathering what remained of my strength, I focused all my power into one final, concentrated blast. The lightning that erupted from my fingertips was no longer just a stream but a torrent, a crackling storm of energy that illuminated the entire chamber with its violent blue-white light. The matriarch's body convulsed, its segments twisting and contorting as electricity coursed through its massive form. Its many legs scrabbled frantically against the stone floor, carving deep furrows as it writhed in its death throes, and I resisted the urge to cover my ears at the cacophony of sound that was pounding away at them...and at the sensations pouring into the Force.

With a final, ear-splitting shriek that echoed throughout the chamber, the beast's head exploded in a shower of chitin, ichor, and partially cooked innards. The rest of its body continued to twitch and spasm for several seconds before finally going still, smoke rising from dozens of charred holes in its carapace. A moment later, even before I could properly finish lowering my hands or shaking the tingling sensation from my fingers, there was a pulse in the Force and a rumble in the stone of the chamber. The Red Engine, or more accurately the plinth that stood in the center of the antechamber, began to rotate counter clockwise and rise, stone shifting and spinning as it became a pillar that stretched from floor to ceiling. When everything finally stopped moving, heralded by a series of deep, resounding, heavy thuds that sounded very much like something locking into place, I found myself standing in front of a large, exquisitely carved door made out of…some sort of metal that I didn't recognize. Metal that seemed to be, at least to my eyes, some sort of precious substance. Not gold or silver, but something of similar value, perhaps.

Something that seemed to resonate in the Force, and it wasn't only my ancestor that was curious and interested -or imagining the possibilities- this time.

"Once I am a famous and powerful Dark Councilor, remind me to come back and take this door for myself. I'm thinking it would come in handy, and I certainly want to get my hands on more of it if I can." I muttered to the both of us, reaching out and placing my hand on the center of the door and pressing on it. Nothing happened and I frowned for a moment, before a thought occurred. Lightning flowed down my arm to sink into the metal, and I grinned as it quite visibly reacted. Just like the pyramid that had been holding the first holocron I had recovered for Zash. The door split down the middle seam and the two halves withdrew sideways into the walls of the pillar, leaving me to cross the threshold and step into…well, it wasn't a large space, so it wasn't much of anything, but what little space there was looked distinctly shrine-like. And there, on a plinth, in the center, sat a pair of books. Their pages were not of stone or paper, and they weren't even a sheaf of data-pads. No, their pages were forged from the same psycho-reactive metal that the door had been made from, with Ancient Sith cuneiform etched into the surface of each sheet so finely that I struggled to believe a human -or any other sentient species- could have 'written' them with their own two hands.

Ajak Shasot Asha, read the title of one. Ajak Qyasik Saarai, said the other. The Doctrine of Passionate Victory and…hmm, The Doctrine of The True Force? The True Doctrine of the Force, maybe? The second one was a bit harder to translate, it wasn't quite as literal as the first, but if I had to take a guess the first was a Codex on combat and battle, and the second was a Codex on sorcery. Both written by one of the most powerful Sith to ever exist, and one of the most talented in each of those fields as well.

"…well, I'm certainly not handing these over to that lunatic. These are mine now." I declared matter-of-factly, picking them up and regarding them with something close to reverence, running my fingers over the etched lettering with a small half-smile on my face. It was a good thing I had brought a satchel to carry all -or most, at the very least- of the equipment that the 'unknown commando' needed, because I had not been counting on needing to get some extra loot back to the Academy.

Though, as far as causes for unexpected changes to one's plans went, there were certainly much, much worse than finding two ancient, priceless texts that no one else knew existed.

"A wise choice, child." Kallig's voice was solemn, but I could feel the excitement bubbling beneath his calm demeanor. "These are treasures beyond measure, greater than all the wealth combined from every tomb on Korriban. To think Tulak Hord recorded his teachings so... comprehensively. I had not thought him capable of such foresight, given his foolishness in betraying me and his subsequent death."

I carefully placed the metal-forged tomes into my satchel, feeling their weight settle against my hip. Not just physical weight—there was a presence to them, a gravity in the Force that seemed to pull at my awareness like an ebbing tide. An unfortunate thing, one that made me wonder -somewhat anxiously, at that- if it was possible for others to sense them as well. If so, keeping them secret and to myself would be a more complicated proposition. Still, it was more than worth the risk, especially since no one besides Ephran knew that I was trying to collect them to begin with. And I was seriously considering making sure his mouth was shut permanently. Not very heroic of me, perhaps, but under the circumstances I was willing to be more…flexible than I might otherwise prefer. Which was probably something I needed to think about when I had the time, the privacy, and the peace to do so. For now, I had other responsibilities and objectives to pursue.

"We should leave this place before our 'friend' Ephran sends someone to check on our progress." I said, adjusting the strap of my satchel to better distribute the weight of my new possessions. "I'd rather not explain why I'm not bringing him back what he sent me for. In fact, if I can find a way to avoid him entirely, I would prefer that."

"Indeed. Though it would be amusing to see his face when you tell him you found nothing." Kallig chuckled darkly, sounding rather more 'Sithly' than he usually did. "He would never believe you, of course, but proving otherwise would require him to venture here himself, and he lacks the courage to make the attempt. Otherwise, he would have done so previously. And I do have to wonder if his madness would be sufficient to drive him into attacking you if he found out you do have the results of your efforts."

I snorted, shaking my head as I left the small chamber and headed for the entrance, intent on making my way to the hidden equipment and the final tablet for my trial, being extra careful to skirt around the massive corpse of the matriarch. Its body was still twitching occasionally, nervous system firing randomly in death, and judging from the way it was leaking acid from it's ruptured glands, not much would remain of the intricately carved floorstones within the next few hours. A pity, I supposed, but then again they were just nicely designed floorstones, not valuable murals or something of the sort. Hmm, I wondered if I could get in trouble for the damage? Probably not, it certainly wouldn't be fair or reasonable, but Sith weren't exactly famous for either of those traits to begin with, now were they?

At least the rest of the trial would be a bit easier, even if I was pretty tired from the fight I had just gone through. There weren't many obstacles between me and the final tablet, after all, and I had a goddamn lightsaber to make use of now. I had more than enough strength, physical and mental alike, to deal with the oft-traveled tombs before me, and with their leader dead I rather imagined that the slave rebellion wouldn't be lasting much longer either. All the better, says I. Maybe the rebels would be too busy trying to survive or find an escape route from the hole that they had trapped themselves in to cause me any trouble.

Hope springs eternal. I sighed as I stepped back into the sunlight once again.

Chapter Text

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Hope should not, in fact, have sprung eternal. Although, in pursuit of fairness, I did have to admit that this wasn't quite what I expected to have happen, because while the slaves were not, in fact too busy to ignore me, they unfortunately weren't alone either.

"Sorry about this, girl. We like you, we really do. But Harkun promised that we could go home in one piece if we made sure that you didn't make it back." Twin One told me sadly as I stepped out of the final chamber of the tomb, the last of the tablet transcriptions safely tucked away, his vibrosword drawn and humming in his hand.

"We can't be Sith, and we're not like the free-born. We can't leave Korriban when we like. So it's kill you, die in the tombs, or die to Harkun." Twin Two added with an almost sheepish gesture with his own sword, sounding even more put out about the situation than Twin One, and I couldn't help but arch my eyebrow as I looked at them and the dozen or so slaves -and two hacked mining droids- that they had brought for backup.

"Now, boys, I like you two too. And I don't mean to be mean, but, uh…are you really sure that you want to do this? This is only likely to get all of you killed, you know?" I drawled slowly, dropping my right hand down onto the saberhilt clipped to my belt and turning slightly to half-settle into a combat stance. The slaves tightened their grips on their weapons, which included blasters this time, I saw, in response while The Twins nodded together in agreement.

"You're much stronger than us, we know that. It's why we waited until you tired yourself out fighting and doing trials all day. Not the bravest way of doing things, but if we were brave and powerful this wouldn't be necessary in the first place." Twin Two acknowledged, bobbing his head in a confirming nod, and I had to give credit where credit was due, that was a good plan. Certainly the one I would have employed if I were in their position, and one I would probably employ in the future. No point in hurling yourself at a full-strength foe, especially one that was beyond you, when you could wait for it to weaken itself and wear itself out. That was a hunting strategy that went back to the time of roving hunter-gatherers. Sighing, he shook his head. "Sorry, girl, but it's time for you to go. Sorry it had to be like this."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too. Got any family you want me to send word to?" I responded in kind, rolling my shoulders and pushing my growing exhaustion aside as I felt my ancestor's presence coil in anticipation of a fight. I was briefly glad that I had found a clever way of killing the last k'lor slug, because if I had been forced to kill the fucking thing conventionally, this little ambush probably would have been the end of me. Even if I had survived, I might not have had the strength to make it back to safety. Honestly, I wasn't even willing to call myself out of the woods yet as it was. Yes, I had a lightsaber, and yes I was certainly more powerful than the twins put together, but they had quite a few friends, and those mining droids were built like tanks.

Which is why I didn't wait for them to answer, instead drawing and igniting my lightsaber in a single fluid motion and darting forward to impale the first mining droid through one of the few overt weaknesses that it possessed, the single large eye that dominated the front of it's 'face'. Sparks flew, the scent of roasted circuitry and melted durasteel staining the air, and the droid collapsed with a brief shriek and a long, almost sad-sounding warble. Then the fight was on.

Twin One lunged at me from the right while Twin Two circled left, their coordinated attack instantly revealing why they'd survived this long on Korriban. They were probably connected through the Force on a level only twins could be, able to communicate with a thought and act in unnatural synchronicity as they spread out to flank me. An action that left a clear line of fire for the blaster-armed slaves.

"Fire!" someone shouted, and I was forced to abandon my offensive push, spinning my lightsaber in tight arcs to deflect the barrage of blaster bolts. Each deflection sent vibrations through my arms, my already taxed muscles screaming in protest, and I took a moment to be profoundly grateful to Nicky for forcing me to practice against drones on more than one occasion. Fortunately for me, the marksmanship directed towards me left a lot to be desired, or I would have found myself in real trouble.

A particularly lucky -and it was luck, or the guiding hand of The Force- trio of flicks caught three bolts particular bolts in just such a way that I managed to redirect them back toward their senders, dropping two slaves to the ground with smoking holes in their stomachs and sending a third reeling as the third bolt plowed into their shoulder. But I couldn't maintain a purely defensive posture—not with the second mining droid stomping toward me, its powerful hands reaching out to grab me. Smart enough to recognize that it possessed the strength to quite literally tear me apart where I stood if it got it's hands on me, I tried to withdraw in the face of it's advance.

"Don't let up, don't give her room to breathe! Keep her here!" Twin Two called out, feinting with his vibrosword before ducking back when I lashed out at him with a crackle of lightning. Fuck, they were actually being smart about this, really smart, and I grimaced and swore loudly as a blaster bolt penetrated my defenses and clipped my shoulder. It was my off-hand, and it was only a graze, but too many grazes like that and I would be in real trouble.

The stinging pain was a sharp reminder that I was pushing the limits of my endurance, even as 'easy' as the last trial had been. I needed to change tactics, and fast, if I wanted to get out of this and get back to the Academy in one piece. Back to Kory, who would be killed if I failed. Back to the commando, who was the best hope I had to head of half of the issues in the Republic Class Stories. Never mind all the changes I, myself, needed to make. All the things that I had to accomplish, personally, to fix the galaxy's problems.

"Alright then," I muttered, reaching deep into my reserves, or at least what was left of them. Pity my ancestor wasn't letting me draw to much power from him, otherwise I could just brute force (heh) this and every other confrontation. Then again, that's exactly why he wasn't giving me too much of his power. "If this is going to happen, I'm damn well not interested in dragging this out."

With a guttural cry, I unleashed a wave of Force energy outward, not refined or elegant but raw and desperate. The shockwave sent several slaves stumbling backward, buying me precious seconds to deal with the mining droid bearing down on me. I pivoted, cleaving through the machine's knee, severing it cleanly. The machine lurched, its weight distribution suddenly compromised, and I used the momentum to slide beneath its massive frame as it toppled helplessly to the ground. Two slaves were unlucky enough to be on the far side, and both went down clutching their stomachs as my saber split them open. The rest broke, turning their backs on the fight that had claimed half their number.

"No! Stop! Surround her! Take her down!" Twin One shouted after them, his voice betraying a hint of panic as he was forced to abandon a lunge in order to avoid tripping over the now-fallen droid, but it was fruitless. Their temporary allies were fleeing, and the likelihood that they would return was slim to none. They hadn't expected me to have this much fight left in me, the poor bastards, and it wasn't like they had completely known what I was capable of in the first place. Rumors and hearsay and seeing a handful of displays in various classes were hardly sufficient to get a proper measure of someone's strength and ability.

I locked eyes with Twin One, then Twin Two, both of them now clearly uncertain that their assumptions and their planning were as accurate and solid as they might have thought. Good. Fear was useful. I could work with fear, or try to anyway. God only knew if I was scary enough to outweigh the looming threat of the Overseer.

"Last chance," I said, my voice steady despite my ragged breathing and the pain I was feeling. "Walk away now. Tell Harkun you couldn't find me. I won't hunt you down, and you can find another way off world or fight your way into another acolyte pool."

For a moment, I thought they might actually take the offer. Twin Two's eyes flickered toward the exit tunnel, and I sensed his resolve wavering. He wanted out, I knew he did, and both of us knew that this was going to be a far closer fight than they would have preferred.

And just like that, the moment and the opportunity passed as a fact visibly placed itself at the forefront of his mind.

"Sorry, Khai." Twin One said, and he actually sounded like he meant it. "We can't. Harkun will know if we lie to him, we're not strong enough to hide that."

I sighed, knowing that he was right, and knowing what it meant for all three of us. "Then I'm sorry too."

With a grim sense of finality, I tightened my grip on my lightsaber and centered myself. The Force flowed through me, dwindling but still present, like a fading heartbeat that refused to stop. I couldn't afford to draw this out any longer. My muscles ached, my shoulder burned where the blaster bolt had grazed it, and I knew my reserves were running dangerously low. I considered making some final quip, something cinematic and quotable, but in the end I opted to simply launch myself at Twin One and slash at him with my saber.

He brought his vibrosword up in a desperate parry, the clash sending sparks flying as my lightsaber met his blade. The vibrosword held long enough for his brother to strike at me, though I could see the damage the weapon had suffered in the effort. It could only take one more blow like that to ruin it entirely and leave him with only the Force to wield against me, which made him my primary target. A fact he and his brother seemed well aware of, as they fell into a close formation. One designed for them to cover one another and let them control the tempo of the fight by keeping me constantly on the defensive.

Twin Two's blade caught me as I tried to pivot away from his brother, drawing a line of fire across my ribs that made me hiss in pain. It wasn't deep, thank God. The light armor had absorbed most of the blow, but it still stung like hell and reminded me that I couldn't afford even minor injuries at this point. Not to mention that it was going to make breathing a bitch and a half, which wasn't exactly helpful in a fucking fight.

"You're slowing down." Twin One observed, pressing the advantage with a flurry of strikes that forced me to give ground, his mood visibly improving from moments ago. "We just need to outlast you."

He wasn't wrong. Each deflection was becoming more labored, my reactions a fraction slower than they had been just minutes ago. The Force was still with me, but my body was reaching its limits after the day's trials and tribulations. I needed to end this—now, and decisively.

"Maybe," I admitted, feinting right before abruptly changing direction. "But I only need one opening."

I let my guard drop deliberately on my left side, a fairly easy thing to do given the blaster wound that arm bore.

Twin Two took the bait instantly and instinctively, lunging for what he perceived as weakness with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. It was exactly what I had hoped for—that desperate eagerness that comes when victory seems within grasp. As his blade arced toward my exposed side, I pivoted at the last possible moment, using the momentum of my body to bring my lightsaber across in a brutal upward slash.

The vibrosword never completed its journey. Neither did Twin Two, at least not in the same shape he had begun it.

My lightsaber caught him just below the ribcage, carving upward through his torso in a diagonal path that ended at his opposite shoulder. For a brief, suspended moment, his eyes widened in shock—perhaps even a flicker of admiration—before the light faded from them entirely. His body collapsed in two uneven pieces, the smell of charred flesh and seared blood pouring into the air, alongside his brother's incandescent rage and deep upwelling of almost indescribable emotional agony. Emotional that was voiced in an incoherent, howling shriek as he hurled himself at me, vibrosword and lightning alike arcing through the air. In my condition, I could only blow one, and I screamed as the lightning flickered across my flesh, leaving jagged pain -and equally jagged burns- crawling across my body, but I was used to pain. Especially pain from Sith Sorcery. Batting his vibrosword aside, I resorted to an ancient technique to survive, and planted one booted foot between his legs with all my strength. He went down with a sound that defied description, a sound that -alongside his suffering- was blessedly cut short as I brought my saber down on his neck.

It was all I could do to remain on my feet at this point, and I stood there for a short eternity, breathing heavily -the new cut on my chest protesting every inhalation-, watching the last twitches of nerves running through the twins' bodies. Their deaths were a sharp, bitter tang in the Force—a sensation I was becoming all too familiar with on Korriban. I hadn't wanted to kill them. They'd been decent sorts, as far as acolytes went. But that was Korriban for you: the only currency that truly mattered was survival, and I'd just paid that price in blood once again. Mine, and theirs, and I couldn't bring myself to feel anything more than faint regret that it had come to this.

My legs wobbled beneath me as the adrenaline began to fade, the full weight of my exhaustion crashing down upon my shoulders. I stumbled against the stone wall, leaving a smear of blood—mine and others'—as I slid down to a seated position. I needed to rest, just for a moment. Just long enough to catch my breath and gather what remained of my strength. The way back to the Academy wasn't short, though hopefully I could get some medical assistance from the soldiers assigned to keeping the rebels penned up in this area. Enough to get me back to the Academy's infirmary, at least. I'd take what I could get quite frankly.

"Fuck," I whispered, my voice hoarse as I leaned my head back against the wall behind me, closing my eyes briefly despite the danger of doing so in my current environment. "That was... closer than I'd like."

"Very close. You knew that something like this would happen, but still you were caught off guard. You are fortunate that you are as strong as you are, have the training that you do, and were fortunate enough to claim that lightsaber. Otherwise, you would be dead or dying, and our House would be doomed forevermore." Kallig remarked, appearing beside me and kneeling down to inspect my wounds with a practiced eye.

"I didn't think Harkun would try something like this so late, and not after I had already caught Zash's eye without Ffon to replace me. I got comfortable with being the best choice, got comfortable with him being less unpleasant than I expected, and got comfortable with how advanced I was compared to everyone else." I sighed, and he gave me a swat across the ear that was, especially compared to his usual chastisements, almost gentle.

"You grew arrogant, child. I have told you before, you rely too much on visions and knowledge of what might have been. It gives you an advantage, to see the things you see, but you are far too prone to presuming that nothing will change despite you acting as you see fit." he chided with painful honesty, and my own self-honesty forced me to grimace and nod in agreement. It was all well and good to expect things to remain relatively unchanged, the greater frameworks being what they were -The Emperor's goals, the planets I would have to visit to collect the ritual tools for Zash, et cetera-, the vast majority of my life was already incredibly different from how it 'should be', so why in God's name was I continuing to act as if everything was still following a rigid script? And how many more times would I have to be shown the error of my ways before I stopped doing it? Seeming satisfied, Kallig placed a spectral hand over a couple of my wounds, energy flowing into them. "I will give you enough to get you back on your feet, but no more than that. And pay attention. This is a skill you will likely need to make use of in the future, for yourself or for one of your concubines. To think you have been on Korriban this long and not yet been taught basic Force first-aid. Disgraceful. Back in my day…"

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To say that she was surprised by the shape that the gorgeous, busty, studly silver-haired acolyte that had promised to help her escape returned in would be a massive understatement, and it put several sizeable holes in her theories that all of this was some sort of somewhat-elaborate trap. The girl 'saving her' from a rival acolyte, well, that was hardly the most creative thing to start a ploy with. It was actually fairly cliche, if she was going to be honest, and even the genuine animosity that the two had shown to each other wasn't enough to convince her that it wasn't some sort of ploy. Kory regaling her with all -literally, all, Force help her- the lurid details of what seemed to be every sexual, sensual, or vaguely emotional moment she and her self-proclaimed Mistress had experienced together was certainly stranger, but she could see it being the former(?) slaves…unique way of making Khai seem more approachable, sympathetic, and reasonable.

But this? By the time Khai had dragged herself into the jail and passed her the items she needed to break out of this cell, it was obvious that she had been through the fucking wringer. At least two blaster wounds, what looked like lightning exposure, burns and scorchmarks on her clothing -which was practically in tatters-, several vibroblade wounds, and a stench of fire and roasted flesh that clung to her like a cloak.

"Force, what happened to you, stud?" Vette asked the question they both were thinking for her, as Khai sat on a nearby bench and slumped against the wall, clearly exhausted and on her last fumes of fuel.

"Oh, my Overseer isn't my biggest fan. He promised two acolytes and a dozen or so slaves that they could go home unharmed if they made sure Tulak Hord's tomb became my own. They waited until I was injured and exhausted from everything else I was dealing with before they jumped me, and unfortunately they got a few hits in." she drawled, sounding less 'casually confident' and more 'drunkenly slurring', which was definitely a bad sign when it came to an injured person.

"You should get to a medbay, studly." Vette said, her voice pitched lower now, her cheerful, teasing nature entirely absent. She'd seen enough injuries in her time to know when someone was running on nothing but spite and stubbornness. "Like, immediately."

"Can't. Not yet." Khai shook her head, wincing at the movement. "I need to get you out first, miss commando, because no matter how creative you get in hiding those things -and I'm sure you could get very creative- they'll catch on eventually, and I don't think either of us would survive that. So go ahead and get yourself out while I use that emergency kit to patch myself up enough to escort you out."

"Have you got a plan for that?" she responded, conceding immediately to the other woman's wishes and starting to fiddle with the cage mechanisms. She was right after all, even if she hid the tools in the shadows behind her cage or inside her sex, both things she was perfectly willing to do if it meant escaping, she wasn't sure that she could keep that up for very long without getting caught.

"Of course I have a plan, love." Khai replied cockily with a wink, though her confident -desperately trying to be flirtatious- tone was somewhat undermined by the way she gasped and grimaced as she pressed a kolto patch against the worst of her wounds. "I'm going to walk your lovely ass right through the front door."

"Walk me right out the front door, huh? And no one is going to catch on to that?" the commando's tone was, perhaps, most politely described as 'curious', thought her cheeks were a bit pink at the flirting.

"Most of the Academy guards are busy helping put down the slave rebellion I had to wade through to get your stuff, the only people left really are the Inquisitors, Knash, and the Dark Honor Guard. The Guard guard the Academy from assault, they won't move an inch outside of that duty. Knash and the Inquisitors are all busy in other cells at the moment, and no one else really knows what you look like. Some different clothes and my reputation will do us well enough for now."

"Your reputation?" was the next, hesitant question, as the door clicked open and she stepped out, and Khai smirked at her with a certain gleam in her eye, a gleam that made the commando feel both warmth and a desire to cover her breasts and groin. Not with disgust or anger or discomfort, though, but shyness, and she absently wondered at the effect this Sith was having on her.

"My reputation. For being particularly... libidinous, I suppose." Khai clarified, wincing as she applied a kolto patch to her shoulder, smirking faintly at two pairs of arched eyebrows. "You're pretty, you're in bad shape, you're naked. People will assume that you're a slave or something I've taken for myself and not worry about it. Everyone already knows Kory is mine, and that I'm fucking Malora too. What's one more pretty girl? They'll see what they want to see and put it out of their minds, which gives us the advantage."

The commando stared at her for a long moment, clearly processing everything she'd just heard, and wondering just what the appropriate response would be: approval at the cunning audacity or outrage at the 'demeaning' nature of it all. "So your plan is to... pretend I'm your sex slave?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds rather crude, love. You need to widen your gaze a bit, you might enjoy it. Anyway," Khai drawled, forcing herself to stand despite her body's protests, cutting herself off briefly with a hiss of pain and a stagger that had the commando darting across the room to brace her up. After a moment of steadying herself, she continued. "I prefer to think of it as utilizing social assumptions to our mutual advantage. Besides, it's not like we have many other options right now. Unless you fancy fighting your way out through several dozen Sith, including all the Academy staff?"

"I'm not exactly in fighting shape myself," the commando admitted, gesturing to her bruised, unclothed body. "And I don't have any weapons."

"Precisely. Now, let's get you into these," Khai said, pulling out a bundle of clothes she'd stashed in her pack. "They're not much, but they'll cover the essentials. Leaving you naked would certainly sell things, but as attractive as that idea is, naked on Korriban would be a good way to die horribly or suffer irreparable harm, and I'd rather not have such beauty tarnished."

"Kory warned us about you, you know." the commando didn't try to restrain her sarcasm, and -after a brief moment of hesitation-, turned away from the injured acolyte to start dressing. The fact that it meant, when pulling her 'new' pants on, that she was bending over to display her pussy to the woman that was saving her life, liberty, and chastity from Force-only-knew-what was, obviously, something that hardly bore thinking on. She certainly wasn't a little bit turned on by the idea, and the blush on her face naturally had everything to do with the teasing whistle Vette let loose with and nothing at all to do with anything else.

"If I know my Kory, she didn't warn you about a damn thing, she praised me to high heaven and then invited you to join in." Khai chuckled tiredly, turning towards the door. "Come on, let's get this done fast, before anyone that would actually realize there is a problem gets back."

"I deeply resent how accurate that is..." the commando muttered, adjusting the loose-fitting shirt that hung off one shoulder. It was clearly meant for someone with a more substantial frame, which meant it was probably Khai's. The pants at least had a drawstring, allowing her to cinch them tight enough to stay on her hips.

Khai grinned weakly, her eyes briefly unfocused before she shook herself back to alertness. "I'm perceptive like that. It's part of my charm."

"Along with your humility, right?" Vette added with a smirk, from her own cell, smiling at the commando. "Get home safe, babe, and don't worry about me. I'll just seduce Khai into saving me like he saved Kory. After all, she seems to have a thing for redheads."

"Exactly right." Khai agreed with a laugh as she started from the room, not denying it for even a moment, and the commando lingered for a long moment before hesitantly following. It wasn't easy, making herself seem downtrodden and submissive, not when her every instinct was reminding her that she was walking through a semi-literal valley of death, but she caught sight of Khai. Despite her injuries, despite her exhaustion and the nerves that she had to be feeling, the slave acolyte wasn't showing any sign of weakness. Her back was straight, her stride was -outside of the odd hitch, and admittedly much shorter than it ought to be- steady, and she had a lazy, confident smirk on her lips. Taking a deep breath to settle herself, she slumped her shoulders, ducked her head -letting her hair fall like a curtain to shroud her face- and started shuffling along behind Khai, occasionally wringing her hands like she was anxious.

Which, quite frankly, she was.

Their exit from the prison wing went exactly as Khai had predicted, perhaps unsurprisingly. The remaining guards, those few who weren't occupied with the slave rebellion or other urgent matters, barely spared them a second glance. One particularly bold guard did let his eyes linger on the commando a bit too long, only to snap his attention elsewhere when Khai's hand drifted casually to her lightsaber, and he looked away quickly with fear in his eyes. The message she had sent him was as clear as it was silent: look all you want, but this one is mine.

She really shouldn't feel something throb in her chest at that. Gods, what had the Sith done to her?

"Keep your head down, love." Khai murmured as they approached the main atrium. "We're almost through."

The commando nodded minutely, maintaining her submissive posture while stealing glances at her surroundings. Despite her current predicament, the professional in her couldn't help but catalog potential escape routes, defensive positions, and the general layout of the Academy. Information that might prove useful to the Republic someday, if she survived long enough to report back, and if they ever had the opportunity to strike at Korriban. Though, if they did, she would make sure that everyone knew that the Academy was as full of the Empire's victims as any other world in the galaxy. Something she never would have believed before this whole ordeal, but after everything that she had seen and heard since arriving, it's something that she would never be able to forget.

Two Dark Honor Guards flanked the massive entrance doors, their masked faces betraying nothing of their thoughts as Khai approached with her, their heads barely turning as the pair passed them by. Force, they were so still, it was like looking at statues, and despite everything she was mildly impressed. The self-control and discipline that they clearly possessed had to be incredible. Once again, it was just like her rescuer had said: that Honor Guard didn't care about them in the least, because they weren't attacking the Academy.

The blinding Korriban sun hit them as they stepped outside, the dry heat immediately wrapping around them like a scorching blanket. The commando squinted against the harsh light, momentarily disoriented after days in the dimly lit prison cells, and she knew she was going to have to get the medics to look at them in addition to…everything else. in the face of what had happened, though, it was barely a footnote. It had worked, it had really worked. They had literally just walked out the front door.

"Don't look so surprised." Khai murmured with a soft laugh, her voice barely audible as they descended the Academy steps. "The hardest part is always making it look like you belong. People rarely question what they expect to see. Especially people in power, because that would require paying more attention to you than you deserve, cockroaches that you are."

There was nothing that she could say in response to that, or to the sardonic familiarity with which the other woman had said it either. They walked in silence for several minutes, Khai leading them away from the main paths where acolytes and overseers might be traveling, and she couldn't help but notice how the Sith woman's steps were becoming increasingly uneven, her breathing more labored with each passing minute. The kolto patches were clearly not enough to counteract her injuries.

"You're getting worse." she whispered, keeping her head down but moving closer to support her as best she could while maintaining their cover, and Khai laughed raspily.

"Just a bit yes, but we're almost to your equipment. You can make it to your extraction point without me, right?"

"You want me to leave you?" she whispered incredulously, her grip on Khai tightening unconsciously. "After everything you've done to get me out, you want me to just leave you behind?"

"That was rather the point, love," Khai replied, her voice growing fainter. "I didn't go through all this trouble just to have you captured again because I collapsed halfway to your extraction point. Besides, I have to get back to the Academy eventually, and preferably before I bleed out. Besides, once you're safely away, I'll can call Kory to help me get back. Since it's not part of a trial, the Overseers can't complain about it."

They reached a small outcropping of rocks, sheltered from view of both the Academy and the main paths. Khai gestured weakly toward a bundle partially concealed beneath a flat stone.

"Your gear. Blaster, armor, comlink, everything I could find. Datapad, too, of course. Make sure it's in good working order and unmodified before you hand it off to your superiors." the acolyte listed off, pushing her away and leaning against the rocky wall for a moment, visibly gathering her strength before turning back the way that they came. "Good luck, and I hope that, if we meet again, it's for a good reason and ends well. I would hate for either of us to be forced to fight the other."

"…if I invite you to come home with me, you won't, will you?" the commando said softly, reluctance and approval and acceptance warring in her tone and in her heart, and Khai flashed her a small smile over her shoulder.

"Leave Kory behind? I couldn't bear it, not even for you, love."

"But you could…you could leave all of this behind! Why stay with the people who've tortured you, hurt you…!" she protested, only to fall silent as Khai smiled at her again, this time so softly she was struck dumb by the sight.

"I could, yes, but I shouldn't. You'll understand in time, I promise. Now, get out of here, and remember to check your datapad. Get home safely, Miss Shan, and try to avoid letting the Empire catch you again. Next time, someone might actually recognize your bloodline, and it would break my heart for you to suffer the fate that would come for you then. May the Force be with us both." she said, and Fay 'Shepard' Shan, Republic Army, was stunned into a silence that lasted until Vestara Khai had long left her sight.