Betrayed by many
Now ornaments dripping from above
Awaiting the hour of reprisal
Your time slips away
-Raining Blood, Tori Amos version

Suchin brushed her fingers over the dead girl’s face, closing her eyelids so she no longer stared into space.  Reaching down, she flicked open the durasteel restraints that had held her in her final moments.  Distasteful, but necessary.  Betrayal could not be met with mercy in the Empire.

That was not the Sith way.

She straightened and gathered he lekku around her throat.  Synthweave skirts swished as she moved to the computer.  Slicing was never her forte, but she had learned enough from a few to erase the holo-recordings she knew Darelde thought she had been taping surreptitiously.    A blip, and all visual evidence of her interrogation were solely contained on the data spike she tucked into a pouch on her belt.

Finally she claimed the holocron from its pedestal. Darelde promised her a wealth of information on it for a little time to study it before sending it off to  Bi’ev.  Instead she tried to kill Suchin and claim it for her own.  

The twi’lek clucked her tongue as she glanced back at the corpse.  So wasteful.  Sith society took insult at a botched assassination attempt.  It demanded recompense, usually the head of the one who failed to kill the targeted Sith.

Of course, that also meant some of the most brilliant minds died prematurely.  Darelde wasn’t as strong in the Force, but Suchin winced to think how much history, how much knowledge might have been lost if she had simply killed her.  

The torture probe bleeped, indicating the copy of the session was finally complete.  She took the spike from it and turned from the room.  In time, someone would discover the pureblood’s body rotting away and do something with it.

She didn’t care what that might be.  Pulling out a holocomm, she dialed Bi’ev’s frequency.

“Master, I have information I think you will be very interested in.”

This is my last time, she said
As she faded away
It’s hard to imagine but
One day you’ll end up like me  
‘Get Out Alive’ - Three Days Grace

Somewhere behind them, a shattered terminal sparked.  The lights flickered briefly, but Achai hardly needed to see in order to place a bootheel on the hand of the Jedi at his feet.  She gasped, weakly attempted to grasp at the hilt of the lightsaber just out of her reach.  He smirked at her and bent over to scoop it up.  

“Caught the apprentice before he could get to the airlock,” Vith called as he rounded the bend to join the Miraluka.  ”What, she ain’t dead yet?  Come on, ‘Chai, there’s no time for this.”

In most circumstances, Vith never dared refer to the Sith by the shortened, pet version of his name.  But there was no one else here to witness their banter, except the Jedi Achai knew would be dead soon.  

 ”She will be soon, don’t fret,” he replied and held the Jedi’s lightsaber hilt out to the bounty hunter.  Vith took it gingerly, staring at it as if it were a viper that might bite him if he held it in the wrong place.  ”You can’t activate it that way, Vith.  Just hold onto it for me.”

He knelt, pressing a knee into the Jedi’s chest painfully, and reached to grasp her hood, yanking it back to reveal the wizened face.  For a moment, he swore he knew her from somewhere, and he delayed choking her just a second longer to figure out how.  

“Yes, Sith, I know your brother,” she whispered.

“‘Chai…” Vith cautioned, but Achai shook his head.  

The Jedi mouthed something briefly, then stopped and took a moment to find the breath to speak.  ”You… will not… the Sene Seekers…”

Achai had heard more than enough and clenched his fist tightly. The Jedi stopped speaking all together, mouth working soundlessly as the pressure against her windpipe increased until finally her eyes closed and she slumped in death.  

He kicked her viciously, anger welling up in him so swiftly he lifted her body into the air and threw it violently down the hallway.   Vith watched quietly, pulling the helm off his head, tucking it under his arm.  His questions were written clearly on his countenance.   But Achai shook his head, hand lifting to still the Chiss’ tongue for now.  

“Her padawan is dead?”

“Yes. What are Sene Seekers?”

Achai growled, “It’s nothing.  She’s making idle threats.”

In public, they were Sith Lord and bounty hunter.  Vith was part of Darth Invecti’s growing powerbase, his strong arm in matters that required the use of brute force.  In public Vith always deferred to his Sith master.  In public he would never have lifted a hand against a darth.

But a drifting ship with an entirely dead crew was no longer public.  In private, they were confidants and lovers and Vith was getting tired of being kept in the dark.  Despite the danger an angry Sith was when provoked, he grabbed Achai’s hood and slammed him up against the wall, pinning him there.  ”Pardon me your lordship but I’m kriffin’ tired of you not telling me things.”

“Vith, don’t,” Achai warned.  Already the Force flowed through him, an angry torrent, an aura that glowed red around him.  

“Or what? You think a few more scars are gonna scare me off?”  He grabbed a ridge on Achai’s rebreather mask, as if that might force him to focus on his face.  ”What’s a Sene Seeker?  How’m I gonna keep you safe if ya don’t tell me what’s goin’ on?”

“It’s… they’re not going to find me in Imperial territory.”  

“Oh maker, Svik’achai tell me what the kriff is a spaced Sene Seeker?”

It was the use of his married name that stilled the Sith.  The anger drained out of him so swiftly that he started laughing.  ”You sound like my mother when she caught me stealing cookies in the kitchen right before dinner.”

The Chiss blinked a few times, staring as if his lover had just grown a second head.  ”This… isn’t funn— dammit, ‘Chai.”

Achai took advantage of his confusion, tore the rebreather off of his face and grabbed the Chiss by his suit’s power conduit, reeling him in to capture his mouth in a brutal kiss.  The Chiss responded eagerly, breaking it a few heartbeats later, resting his forehead against the Miraluka’s.

“Don’t think you’ve gotten out of explaining this to me.”  Then he donned his helm again, securing it to the rest of his suit.  ”And that was a dirty damn trick, distracting me like that.”

Pushing away from the wall, Achai grinned at him.  ”Mission accomplished here.  Let’s extract the holocrons and get back to our ship.”

“Achai…”

“Fine,” the Sith huffed, refitting the rebreather over the lower portion of his face. “You’ll get your explanation.  When we’re well away from here.”

Kerj’idiss’oett, better known as Idiss by friends, fellow legitimate business people, and lovers, did not enjoy entanglements that involved anything Imperial.  In fact, one might say he deliberately refused any cargo that might attract Imperial attention.   Anyone who met him and got a good look at the color of his skin immediately understood.  Idiss was Chiss.  And Chiss did not take kindly to their own people striking out on their own to consort with the enemies of their allies.  

There was plenty of smuggling to do that did not involve Imperial things, however, so Idiss was quite content to never go anywhere near Imperial space.  He bragged there wasn’t a price high enough to even tempt him.

At least, up until a young Jedi approached him with an offer to catch a ride to Balmorra.   “For myself, and two other Jedi.”

Idiss tossed another card on the table without even looking up at him.  ”I don’t go anywhere near Imperial space, Jedi.  I’m sure you can find another ship to carry you three there.”

“Idiss,” the voice said softly and a hand set on the table.  

He lifted his head finally to realize the Jedi had pulled his hood back to reveal a young, handsome blue face and a red gaze that stared at him.   Idiss set his cards on the table, facing down, and leaned back in his chair, lifting his leg to dangle over the armrest.  ”Oh, I get it.  You think that if I see you’re Chiss, like me, I’ll break a decades old tradition of not going anywhere near Imperial space, right?”

The other Chiss chuckled softly, shaking his head.  ”No, Idiss, I would not presume.  However, I hoped you might reconsider if offered proper compensation.  Yours is the only ship not commandeered right now that can carry passengers off world.  Quarantines and all that.”

“That’s because I’m not stupid, I unload my cargo and get the hell off world fast.”

“I’m certain that also avoids anyone questioning your delivery.”

“Look, kid, do you have an offer or what?” Idiss drummed his fingers on the table in irritation.  He’d paused the game for the Jedi and already his rodian opponent was fidgeting impatiently.  

The Jedi nodded, “I’m prepared to pay whatever your standard fare is.  My fellows will contribute their own, equal shares.  Plus, twenty percent extra for the trouble of taking us to Balmorra.”

Idiss considered this for a moment, remembering that his coffers were beginning run dangerously low.  It was the only reason why he’d even consider the Jedi’s offer.  ”Make it an extra thirty percent and we might have a deal.  And, I wanna know who else I’m transporting.  If you’ve got a lethan twi’lek with you, no dice. I am not about to have one of those on my ship.  I’ll have every pirate ship in the area trying to board me before we even get to Balmorran space.”

The Jedi paused, almost startled by that.  ”I… admit I hadn’t even thought of that but no, the other two who’ll be traveling with me are also Chiss.”

“Well slap a womprat, all three of you?  The Ascendancy must be losing sleep at night,” Idiss laughed.  ”Fine, you have yourself a deal. I leave in one hour. Better make sure you guys are ready to leave then, or else I leave without you. Oh, and I expect half up front, half when we get there.”

“Oh don’t worry,” the Jedi assured, “You’ll get your money.  I have one rule for you, however.”

Idiss lifted a brow at that, “I gotta here this.”

“My fellow Jedi are off limits,” he said, and then stood aside, gesturing toward two young Chiss females standing near one another at the far side of the bar.  Twins, obviously, as their facial features were sculpted exactly alike.  Everything about them matched, right down to the style of their hair and the clothing they wore.

After a moment to stare, Idiss grinned, “See you in an hour, Jedi.”

You’re a stranger so 
Why do I care?
You vanished today
Not the first time I hear…
‘The Stranger’ - A Perfect Circle 

He practiced with wooden swords, meant to spare the training dummy from being neatly sliced in half by a proper lightsaber.  Forms taught to him by a number of Jedi Masters, from Master Yalaan to Master Al’dien, and a few Lord Crux managed to teach him.  After convincing the youth that it wasn’t cheating or taking advantage of an opponent to strike them from behind.

One move melded into another, a flurry of blows striking the dummy with precision.  He focused his sight on only the room, blocking out the activity going on elsewhere in the ship.  In his mind, he imagined a dozen different scenarios and worked through them all.  

He stopped only when a bead of sweat on his brow distracted him for a moment and he realized he was not alone.  Two figures stood in the doorway, the bulky form of Lord Crux and a smaller, more slender man in a synthleather jacket and dusty pants.  An old, well used blaster hung from a holster on his hip.  

“Jedi,” Lord Crux began, sounding more irritated than usual, “This individual insists on seeing you.”

It was not like the Sith to let anyone in to see Ehlial like this.  The padawan reached up to pull his hood back, setting the practice swords on the ground.  ”It isn’t often I get guests.  Can I help you, sir?”

The stranger, he realized, was much older than he first though.  Wrinkles around the corners of his mask, his hair thinning around the temples.  When he spoke, his voice was low and gravely.  ”Guess it’d be too much for you to recognize your old man when you never met him in the first place, huh?”

Crux sighed in exasperation, leaving Ehlial to wonder what their conversation had been before coming here.  ”He insists that he’s your father, Jedi.  I can throw him off the ship if you like.”

“No,” Ehlial said, just a little too swiftly.  He thought back to his childhood, to Alpheridies.  His mother’s wan smile as she watched him in the fields.  He asked her why she seemed so sad.  

You look a little too much like your father, she replied.

He held a hand out to the stranger, who seemed delighted to shake his.  ”I don’t even know your name.”

“Jaaroh Sahnin, kiddo,” the spacer replied with a grin, “And damn if you just had blonde hair you’d be my spittin’ image.”

Lord Crux rolled his eyes and pushed away from the door frame.  ”I’ll be somewhere else.”

“Welcome back, Jedi, are they done properly indoctrinating you already?”

Ehlial stood there silently for a few stunned moments.  Lord Crux had been in a mood ever since they had landed on Tython and he had remained aboard the ship.  Even if the Council allowed him access to the temple grounds so long as he behaved, the stares and reproachful glances weren’t something he tolerated very well.  Despite the long travel through hyperspace, he refused to join Ehlial down on the planet.  

But this utterance was most unusual for the Sith.  No matter how much Crux wanted to voice his disdain he usually kept it to himself or let it out in small cryptic murmurs when he thought the Miraluka wasn’t listening.  

“I’m happy to see you, too, Lord Crux,” Ehlial replied simply and finished climbing the gangplank. 

The Sith snorted, “So you have a sense of humor now? Did they implant that in you while you were down there or should I have the doctor check you for fever?”

“What has gotten into you lately?  We’re still on Tython and that kind of talk is not going endear you to people around here.”

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I have your photographs
And the sun on your face
I’m freezing that frame
‘Gold Dust’ - Tori Amos

She found the package on her doorstep, just as she had all the others.  The last one had been delivered years ago.  She almost feared they had finally stopped.  That he was grown now and the mysterious photographer had stopped following him.  The surprise of seeing it there made her nearly drop the bag of groceries she held in the crook of her arm.

Retrieving it quickly, she tapped her finger against the door’s lock and moved quickly through the portal as it hissed open.  The groceries were left on the kitchen counter, forgotten for the moment as she tore away the strange brown wrapping to reveal the holocube inside.  The message was displayed on the surface, longer than the others.

My apologies, Mrs. Neverdusk.  I’m sure you can understand with the tensions going on and your son being grown now that it’s much more difficult for me to take the time to get a snapshot of him to send to you.  As you can see, he has passed his trials.  This may well be the last time I can send you anything.  However, I have also passed on a word of his parentage to him.  He’s old enough and trained enough now that I feel him more than capable of making his own decisions about his family.   Regards, Y.

She felt a little chill run down her spine.  The very idea of him coming to see her.  What might she even say to him?  Would he remember her at all?  Did he know the circumstances of how he ended up on Tython? The bargain that was struck?

Shaking her head, she turned the holocube over and clicked the button to activate it.  His image sprung to life, a young man now nearing twenty.  Such a placid expression, his chin lifted as he studied something above him, his hands held loosely in his lap.  He had her eyes, she noted.  Of course he did.  

She tried to touch the image, just wishing she could touch his jaw, studying the way he moved.  Then startled as it hissed with static and the picture suddenly disappeared until she pulled her hand away and it reformed.  

The holocube joined the others she’d stored away in a chest under her side of the bed.  She took a moment to dust all of them off with care, displaying the photos sent to her over the years.  From a young boy of seven, squinting into the Tythonian sunlight, the padawan braid growing longer against his cheek as the years passed.  An adolescent holding a practice blade with a touch of uncertainty. A young man, fingers steepled in front of him, confidence in the half smile on his lips.  

When finally she turned them off, she closed the chest.  Kissing the tips of her fingers, she pressed them against the top of the container and then pushed it back beneath her bed.  Standing, straightening her blouse, she turned back toward the kitchen.  

She still had groceries to put away, after all.

“Lord Crux, may I ask you a question?”

Crux paused from his self imposed task of sorting through the youth’s crystal collection.  Ehlial stood beside him now, not even tilting his head back far enough to pretend to be looking up.  

“Speak freely, Jedi,” he said, closing up the drawers one by one.  While not truly blind, there were certain things his charge could not differentiate between. And seeing shards of red crystal mixed in with the orange simply drove him mad.  Just thinking about it before battle was enough to warm up his anger.  

“I am told that the Dark side is powerful, and that one should be cautious when engaging a Sith in a fresh fight.  That anger and passion can easily overwhelm even the strongest of Jedi.”  

Crux reached for one of the lightsabers on Ehlial’s belt.  Warm, recently ignited.  The boy had been practicing again, and likely intended to meditate soon.  It explained the question.  

“Are you certain this is a question you want answered, Ehlial?  It treads rather close to the forbidden things we aren’t allowed to discuss without your Master present.”

 Ehlial serenely plucked the lightsaber out of his hand and returned it to its place on his belt.  ”Yes, Lord Crux.  I will be certain to inform my master of our conversation later anyway.  Just to hear his opinion on the matter as well.”

As much as Crux hated to admit it, Ehlial had grown since they met.  Not just physically, though the sudden change in height and muscle was inevitable for a boy his age, but also his demeanor.  Not quite as naive anymore, less uncertain and more cautiously curious.  He sounded more and more like the Jedi he was training to become.  

Crux found himself caught between pride and disgust at this.  He grunted acknowledgment and clasped his hands behind him, pacing in the small space of the ship’s workroom.  ”Of course it’s true, Jedi.  A powerful Sith Lord can use his anger, his fear, his hatred to command the Force with devastating results to anyone unprepared.”

“But if they are prepare—”

The Sith held up a hand and Ehlial dutifully closed his mouth again.  Crux imagined thousands of Sith Lords sighing in unison, all who would have loved such obedience from their own apprentices.  

“I’m only telling you this, Jedi, because I need you to survive.”  

Ehlial nodded.  He’d heard that excuse dozens of times already, that Crux only gave him Sith secrets because he needed the boy to become a Jedi and fulfill the vision he’d foreseen.  Which meant arming him against the Sith he would inevitably face before then.  

They both knew it was a lie.

“You must be prepared, focused, able to survive the onslaught of a Sith Lord’s hatred and anger.  Because such emotions are difficult to maintain for long periods of time.”

“In other words, I should keep myself inaccessible until my opponent has worn himself out?”

Crux nodded, “Yes.  But you must be careful not to trip his fear. Fear is another of our greatest powers.  A Sith lord may start off angry, hateful, but once those emotions have been exhausted, fear gives them a second wind.  The fear of death, the fear of capture, the fear of failure.”

Ehlial’s lips quirked to the left, thinking a moment before replying.  ”It almost sounds as if I should somehow bore them to death in order to defeat them.”

“Well,” Crux chuckled, “I did once hear of a Sith Lord giving in simply because the Jedi he was fighting was quoting old, dry Jedi philosophy while they battled.  And he was tired and bored of it within ten minutes.”

The youth suddenly laughed.  ”And here I thought I’d never actually use anything I learned in those initiate level Jedi philosophy classes.”

Axhale waited with a Jedi’s patience.  He knew Achai had landed hours ago, and that he would arrive soon.  He couldn’t help himself, drawn to his twin brother by a power greater than either of them.  

Sure enough, he spotted the speeder in the distance, winding along the Alderaanian roads.  He pulled up next to Axhale’s small encampment and cut the engine, stepping off the machine before leaning against it.  

The contrast between them still boggled Axhale.   Achai wore the darkness he served on him like a shroud, all black and gray attire and the rebreather that turned his voice mechanical when finally he spoke.  

“I have business here, brother.  And I don’t have a lot of time to bother with you.”

Dusting his hands off, Axhale rose from where he’d been meditating.  ”I came to warn you, Achai.  The Luka Sene—”

Achai laughed, cutting him off mid-sentence.  ”You think I’m not aware they’ve sent seekers out to find me?  Don’t be an idiot, Axhale.  Every Miraluka who turns to the dark side risks their dogged pursuit.  Do you know how many of us there are now serving the Empire?  Not even our people, so peaceful and gentle, can avoid the power of the dark side.”

“Dammit, Achai this is serious. Would you stop posturing for one moment to actually listen to me?”  Axhale frowned deeply and took a deep breath to stem the tide of anger he felt rising.  

In return, he expected more taunting from Achai, more mockery.  Yet the Sith just stood there, staring at his twin brother in contemplation.  For a moment, Axhale swore he saw the old Achai. The brother he had known in their childhood.  It was only a split second, and then he sneered.  

“You have nothing to say that I wish to hear.  Why are you even bothering to warn me? Why should you even care? If they manage to subdue me, you win.  Because they will not capture me, Axhale. I’ll die before I let them take me back to Alpheridies.”

Axhale believed him, even if it were the darkness in him talking.  Through Force sight he could see the dark tendrils wafting off of him like so much black smoke.  For so long he’d been steeped in it that Axhale might have given up completely, were it not for the little things.  The way Achai hesitated sometimes, or felt a brief stab of remorse that he swiftly buried beneath bravado.

“Because there is still good in you, Achai,” he sighed, “And I will never give up on you.  And you know as well as I that if you won’t let them take you, they’ll just as soon destroy you.”

Achai snorted, the sound distorted through his rebreather mask.  Swinging a leg around the body of the speeder, he started the engine and revved it.  ”Thank you for the warning, Axhale.  But I belong to Bogan.  The Luka Sene will find that out if they ever get close enough to me to try anything.”

Axhale exhaled softly and nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself until Achai was long gone, disappearing over a ridge.   “May they bring you back to Ashla, brother. Someday.”

(I just felt like writing about them. >.> )

“It was once said that love is giving someone the ability to destroy you, but trusting them not to.” 
-Unknown 

“‘Chai, wait,” Vith’alor said, grabbing Achai’s wrist and tugging him back.  He drew his weapon in the opposite hand and descended the gangplank while gesturing for the Sith to stay there.

It took only a brief moment of concentration for Achai to extend his Force sight and realize why the bounty hunter suddenly took point.  Their ship was surrounded by a number of armed guards.  Cyborgs most of them, wearing the parts on their faces as if painted with tattoos.  Their leader stood toward the base of the plank, arms folded over his chest and lips quirked to the left in a semi-smirk.  

Achai sighed to himself and muttered something about Nar Shaddaa.  Every time he ran into an issue, it was always the moment he touched down here. 

“Hello boys,” Vith said as he paused at the end of the gangplank. “Somethin’ tells me this ain’t the Hutt welcoming committee.  So what do you all want, hmm?”

Their leader rubbed his nose absently, and when he spoke his voice vibrated.  ”Got no qualms with you, hunter. We’re just here for the Sith.  My employer wants to have a few words with him, yanno?  You’re surrounded, we know how to take out Sith, too.  Just make this easy yeah?  My employer even said he’d throw some creds at you to back off and let us do our job.”

Achai chuckled quietly to himself, echoing Vith’alor’s laughter.  ”Are you kidding me? There’s a reason why I’m Darth Invecti’s personal bodyguard, boys.  As in, you can’t pay me enough to betray him.”

He descended the gangplank then, not even drawing his lightsabers yet.  ”Hunter, it appears we have unwanted guests.  You know what we do with the uninvited.”

Vith’alor grinned, “There’s seven of ‘em, boss.  Plus the guy they have over there pointing a sniper blaster at ya.”

The sweet, electric hum of lightsabers hissed to life as he pulled them from his belt and ignited them.  The Force flowed through him in an instant, fueled by the sudden flare of hatred.  He hated all of them, he realized.  And whoever had the audacity to hire them.  To think that a group of Force blind bounty hunters, regardless of their supposed training, could capture or kill him.

He could taste their nervousness.  Several of them glanced toward the leader, who still had his hand raised to still them.  It would only take one trigger finger getting a little too tight, one nervous twitch, one small step forward to start everything.  And the cyborg who controlled them knew it from the look of him.  One eye had been covered by a cybernetic scanner, the other narrowed slightly and a bead of sweat forming against his temple. 

“Keep their leader alive,” Achai ordered, “I want to know who hired him.”

Vith’alor nodded, the grin vanishing, “As you wish, my lord.”

“Take ‘em out boys!” 

The sniper gave out a choked sound immediately, Vith’alor wasting no time in removing him from the equation with a well placed shot to the man’s throat.  Achai deflected several blaster bolts aimed at him.  Then rocketed forward to slash one man’s arm off completely before turning a lightsaber on his partner, slicing his chest open.   Even as that one folded over to the ground, he was on the next assailant.   

The entire event folded out in front of him, able to see Vith’alor behind him, a blaster bolt twanging off the armored plating of his forearm as he blasted the guy practically right in the face.

By the time the dust settled, Achai had to take a deep breath and stand back.  He’d taken a hit to a shoulder that now began to ache.  Vith’alor’s armor had taken a beating, but held true.  

“I’m afraid he kinda took a hit to the head, boss,” Vith’alor said, toeing the cyborg’s corpse with his boot.  ”So much for knowing how to subdue a Sith lord.”

“The ones who brag about that usually regret it shortly thereafter.”

Vith’alor grabbed Achai’s arm, turning him around as he noticed the blistered synthweave on his shoulder.  ”Kriff, one of them actually had decent aim. Lemme get a kolto pack.”

He grabbed Vith’s hand and shook his head.  ”Not yet, we’re about to have company again.”

Houk guards appeared in the hangar, drawn there by the rumor of violence in a Nar Shaddaa spaceport.   Somewhere, a Hutt would soon demand answers for this, answers Achai himself wanted.  Who dared make an attempt to capture or kill him?

“We’ll take care of it later.  Right now, I need to go yell at a Hutt about their lax security.”

Vith’alor smirked at him, “Leavin’ that up to you, boss. Hutts can kiss my blue ass.”

“No one kisses you there but me,” Achai replied before swiftly stepping off the gangplank to confront the Houks.  

sahnin:

“So, captain, tell me something.”  Risha always began conversations that way, it seemed.

Idiss cracked one eye open, peering at her from the couch he’d stretched out on earlier.  Hadn’t he given instructions to Bowdaar to keep anyone from bugging him while he had a nap?  Not that he expected the wookiee to keep Risha from doing anything she put her mind to. But, all the same…

“Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. What can I do for you today?”

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