Knightless: A Jedi Knight Alternate Universe
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09.19.2012 , 04:33 AM |
Knightless #1: A Dish Best Served Cold
Reposted and edited from AU Shortfic
Spoilers for JK End Chapter 2 and Imperial Balmorra
Prologue: The End in the Beginning
A massive explosion shook the bunker. The children cried and the adults murmured fearfully.
Adella’s son ran down the stairs. “Is everyone alright?”
“We’re fine, Rolan.” Adella called speaking for the group, “What news?”
“It’s clear, the Imps are moving fast, we’ll have to get to the next base quickly.” The others filed out calmly knowing what to do. They may be old men, women and children, but they were used to this life of endless combat and running.
Adella was last to leave, “Where are Maks and Selena?”
Rolan stared at his feet, “Maks is dead.” Adella nearly dropped Cori in shock. “I didn’t want to scare the others, the Imps brought more than a squad, they had a Sith with them. Maks led them to a resupply. Then he blew the whole thing up, himself too. That’s what everyone felt just now. Selena's heading the evac, she said to take Cori to Hide 6.”
Adella nodded hugging Cori close. The loss of Maks would be terrible for the resistance, but at least Cori still had her mother.
A Dish Best Served Cold
Balmorra 12 ATC
Darth Lachris sat at the head of the table entertaining her latest guest. She had taken Balmorra with the help of that young Sith. She wondered if Ninka would live up to her potential, or would she be squashed under the heel of her master, Darth Baras. It was unfortunate that the handsome Lieutenant Quinn, chose to go with her when she left. She had enjoyed toying with a man who obeyed anything a Sith told him to do without question. Now someone far more delightfully interesting and dangerous sat beside her.
He was a Sith pureblood, tall, proud, powerful, everything a Sith should be. He was only a Lord, not a Darth, but he stood outside of Sith politics. He was the Wrath, immortal and ancient, he served the Emperor directly and now he was here on Balmorra.
She gazed at him, not too admiringly, she would not embarrass herself, but she made her interest plain. They were having a civilized meal, a rarity on Balmorra, she invited her guest of honor and four other Sith who had arrived shortly after she captured the arms factory.
“I hope you’re not here to kill me,” she said coyly over a glass of wine. The slaves pushed a cart laden with their next course. Lachris smiled and hit a switch on her remote. All four slaves dropped to their knees as the electricity arced from their collars through their bodies. The Sith at the table laughed or tittered as their personalities permitted. Her guest of honor looked unimpressed.
“It’s not random cruelty, my lord,” she smiled, “The voltage prevents them from trying to bring explosives to the table, after a few resistance fighters got into my slave pen, I can never be too careful.”
He inclined his head accepting her explanation. “My master has no need of me at the moment.” He said in response to her earlier query, “I am here on my own business.”
“Well then,” she arched a delicate brow, “Perhaps that will be beneficial to me.”
The servants circled the table, placing plates and selections next to each Sith. As the host, Darth Lachris was served last. She shocked each of the servants before could approach her.
Lord Scourge watched the slaves accept their punishment silently. They were all so thoroughly broken they could not muster anger or fear, he wondered how Lachris could tolerate being surrounded by the walking dead. The final servant placed a side dish in front of Darth Lachris, a rare sweet fruit. She and the other Sith bit into it eagerly, exclaiming over the flavor. Lord Scourge could not taste anything and was content to work through his meal in the order it was served, as none of it made a difference to him.
Soon, he noticed the others had gone quiet, they cleared their throats softly, looking slightly nervous. Poison, he thought, his eyes snapped to the last servant. From one moment to the next, she went from subservient to deadly. She grabbed a knife off the table and stabbed Darth Lachris in the neck. The poison paralyzed its victims and for all her power, Lachris could do nothing to stop the attack. The servant drew the knife out laterally, an arterial spray splashed across the table. The Darth slumped forward.
As the only one capable of mounting a defense, Lord Scourge drew his lightsaber, but the woman had already pulled out a simple ignition based explosive, one that would not have been affected by the electrical current. She lit the fuse and tossed it on the table meeting his eyes for a split second before she turned and dove out a nearby window.
Lord Scourge was forced to do the same in the opposite direction. He landed, grateful that the building was not far off the ground, and rolled to his feet while a rain of debris and body parts fell around him. The building burned and the worthless men who called themselves Imperial security ran to attend to the latest crisis. Attempting to determine the direction the assassin had run, Scourge thought he caught a glimpse of her disappearing into a blocked off tunnel system.
He ignored the questions of the Imperials gathered around him. He only thought of one thing. That face. The face he had waited three hundred years to see. The time drew near, but something was wrong. She was here, she was not a Jedi, and she did not use the force. Whatever the reason, he needed to find this woman, and train her himself if he had to. It might be the only hope for everyone.
Cover from the Fanart Thread
I am assuming chapter 1 starts around 12 ATC. This is for my own convenience so that the main character's age is 17-18 at the start of the story.
Short Fic Challenge Thread
Remi the Grey