Chapter Text
"I have an important task for you, apprentice. One that will test your skill."
Nerys stood in Darth Baras's office, her hands clasped behind her back. Even the very air here carried the weight of power—oppressive, and absolute.
Before her, a mountain of ambition and calculated intellect, stood her master. Darth Baras did not merely occupy space, he commanded it. Nerys felt a swell of pride for having been chosen to serve him, selected above many others.
"I live to serve you, master," Nerys responded with a bow.
"A shipment, addressed directly to me, has failed to arrive this morning," Baras continued. "It was not lost to the incompetence of logistics. It was stolen. Brazenly. Your task is to find the thief and recover the shipment."
Righteous fury sparked in Nerys' chest. To steal from Darth Baras was to steal from the Empire itself. It was not just a crime; it was a profound insult, a challenge to his authority that could not be allowed to stand.
"I will find who dared to lay hands on your property, master." Her hand instinctively moved toward her lightsaber hilt. "And I will ensure they are punished severely for their transgression."
"The punishment is secondary." Baras raised one hand, though she detected a hint of approval in his tone. "The contents of that shipment are critical to Imperial security. Finding it is your utmost priority, and the matter is time-sensitive."
"Of course, master." She gave a curt nod. "Who was the sender? Perhaps I can begin my investigation there."
"The sender is irrelevant." Baras waved his hand dismissively. "What matters is that the shipment was to reach the Citadel via a delivery droid. The droid, and my property, have vanished."
"A single droid, master?" Nerys frowned. "For something so critical to the Empire?"
"The method of delivery was chosen for its discretion. A convoy would have drawn unwanted attention," Baras responded firmly. For a large man, he had an uncanny ability to make himself seem even larger when he wanted to make a point. "Do not question my methods, apprentice. Your task is to retrieve the shipment. Do not open it."
"I will not let you down, master." Nerys bowed deeply.
"See that you don't. You are dismissed."
Nerys couldn't suppress a smile as the door closed behind her. This was what she had trained for. Yet, something in this story didn't add up. Baras was a man who built his power on foundations of paranoia and meticulous planning. He would never trust a shipment critical to Imperial security to such a fragile chain of delivery.
This was a test. It had to be. Baras's tasks were never as simple as they appeared.
The question was, what was being tested? Her obedience, by forbidding her from opening the package? Her resourcefulness, in tracking a single droid in a city of millions? To succeed, she would have to not only find the missing shipment but also decipher her master's true intent.
Her thoughts were already racing through potential leads, as Nerys left the Citadel. She was met with the damp air of Dromund Kaas. The sun was setting behind the perpetual storm clouds, heavy rain was running down the impassive faces of the duracrete statues lining the plaza. Lightning flickered silently in the distance.
"I hope the young lady is not in too much of a hurry."
The voice, pleasant and familiar, cut through her concentration. Leaning against a shadowed pillar stood Lord Alastor — a tall middle-aged Sith wearing polished black durasteel armor. He was looking at Nerys with a smile that seemed surprisingly warm, given his imposing appearance.
"Dad!"
Nerys crossed the distance between them in less than a second. Lord Alastor caught her easily, chuckling as she embraced him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, pulling back. "You didn't mention you were coming to Kaas City."
"I just flew in because I have a surprise for you," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And I wanted to show it to you personally. Come. Unless Baras has you running errands already?"
Nerys glanced back toward the taxi platform, then at her father. Whatever Baras's mysterious shipment contained, if Baras had waited a whole day to tell her about the theft, a few moments with her father wouldn't harm the Empire.
"I have a bit of time," she decided.
The taxi ride through Kaas City was short. They descended toward a tall building not far from the Citadel, one of the newer constructions that actually looked like it might have been designed by someone who understood concepts like "windows" and "natural light".
They landed on a platform that opened onto a massive balcony. From here, Nerys could see the rooftops of Kaas City spreading out below, lights beginning to flicker on as evening deepened. Beyond the city, the mountains rose in the distance, their silhouettes still visible against the darkening sky despite the storm. This view alone was worth—
Wait. Why were they here?
"Come on," Alastor said, gesturing toward the entrance. "Let's get out of this rain before we both catch a cold. Or before my armor starts rusting."
They stepped into a spacious, empty apartment. From here, she could still hear the muted sound of the rain. Raindrops traced paths down the windows, catching the city lights.
"So, what do you think?" her father asked.
"It's... huge. Whose is it?"
"Yours," he said, turning to face her. "A present from us for not dying in some dusty tomb on Korriban." He paused, his expression turning slightly sheepish. "Well, it's from me, technically. And... maybe don't tell your mother about it?"
"Don't tell me what?"
First, a pair of bright orange eyes materialized in the darkness near the far wall, then the rest of Lord Nivara appeared, her Force stealth dropping away as she stepped fully into view. Her dark robes were immaculate despite the rain outside.
"Nivara! What a pleasant surprise. I was just telling Nerys how we, as a united front, decided to withhold credits until she conquers at least one mid-rim system."
"We discussed this," her mother's eyes narrowed slightly. "A Sith should earn everything themselves. Strength is forged through struggle. Every gift is a battle you never fight. At her age, I had nothing. Everything I achieved, I achieved through my own power and skill."
Life had indeed not been kind to Nivara, Nerys thought. Her mother had been forced to enter adulthood having nothing but a lightsaber, a family estate, several starships, and a credits account that could probably fund a small military campaign. Truly, the struggles of the Sith nobility knew no bounds.
"For months she slept on bunk beds on Korriban," Alastor pointed out, "with six other acolytes. One of them snored."
"It's called character building. I slept in a transport crate for three months during my trials."
"That was your choice. You were trying to prove a point to your master."
Nerys lowered her head and arranged her features into the saddest expression she could manage.
"No, mother is right," she said quietly. "I should earn everything myself. It was selfish of me to want a roof over my head. I don't need an apartment. A true Sith should be ascetic, free from material distractions. It's still warm outside. I can sleep on a bench next to the Citadel. There's a nice one by the statue of the Emperor—I checked earlier."
Her father's lips twitched, but he said nothing.
"I'll use my cloak as a blanket. And when winter comes and it gets colder," Nerys sighed, "maybe Darth Baras will take pity on me. He might let me sleep on the floor in his office in exchange for sexual services."
"You are a future Sith Lord, Nerys," her father shook his head disapprovingly. "Where is your ambition? You should negotiate for at least a mattress."
"Of course, there's always the cantina," Nerys continued. "I bet if I'm charming enough, the patrons might share their leftovers with me. Better than having to sell holovideos of myself to the Hutts just to buy food."
She stared off into the distance as if contemplating her tragic future.
"Though I suppose at that point, what's dignity when you're freezing and starving?" she mused, "Maybe if I'm lucky, some kind people will throw me a few credits out of pity when they see me shivering in the spaceport, trying to warm myself over exhaust vents—"
A heavy sigh escaped Lord Nivara's lips.
"Fine," she said with resigned irritation. "Keep the apartment. But you're paying for your own furniture."
"Thank you, mother," Nerys said sweetly, dropping the sad act immediately. Then she glanced at the chrono on her wrist and winced. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to attend to a critical matter of Imperial security for Darth Baras."
She gave her still-chuckling father a quick hug and a respectful nod to her mother before heading for the elevator.
"Since we're both here anyway," Nerys heard her father say as the elevator doors began to close, "we might as well go buy her at least a bed."
Whoever had taken that shipment had made a fatal miscalculation, Nerys thought as she left the building. Baras had given her the exact location where the droid had vanished—an empty street not far from the Citadel, bordered on one side by the cliff edge. A convenient spot for an ambush. Isolated, yet close enough to the heart of Imperial power that the thief must have been either supremely confident or utterly desperate.
She would start with the surveillance recordings. The thief had chosen their moment carefully, waiting for the heaviest rainfall, when even the ever-watchful eyes of the Empire's security apparatus would be obscured by sheets of water. But rain would not stop a Sith.
Perhaps this was a Republic plot, she mused. If so, she would uncover this conspiracy, crush it before it could take root, and lay both the conspiracy and the conspirators both at Baras's feet.
She would turn their scheme into a triumph for the Empire. She would prove her worth. And Darth Baras would see that his faith in her had not been misplaced.