Aboard Fury-class starship
10 ATC


K’hera somehow didn’t find it surprising that Malavai’s ship didn’t have a name.

He was all business, all duty and efficiency, and giving a name to a starship that he would only ever see as a tool would be overly sentimental. Yes, it made perfect sense.

She was standing in the cargo hold, pretending to sort through the supplies they had picked up on Nar Shaddaa but really just trying to get away for a while. Being around Malavai was…frustrating, to say the least. It wasn’t that she disliked him, not exactly. Indeed, as far as Sith went, he could have been far worse. He was a model of competence and exactitude, always putting the interests of the Empire above his own. He was powerful, capable, and no doubt would go very far in the ranks of the Sith.

In short, he was exactly what she would have been, if not for Evendre’s treason. The thought grated on her, salt in the raw wound left by her absent Force-sensitivity. She was a Pureblood, heir to an ancient lineage, and he was only human. It should have been him serving her, not the other way around.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

K’hera whirled around, gasping in surprise before she could stop herself.

Malavai stood in the doorway, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. “Catch,” he said, and tossed an object in her direction.

Instinctively, she caught it out of the air.

“Your reflexes and hand-eye coordination are excellent,” Malavai observed coolly. “It seems your body has adjusted to compensate for the lack of the physical abilities granted by the Force. Good.”

K’hera suppressed the urge to glare at him. She had managed to avoid telling him exactly why she had lost her Force-sensitivity, and she wanted to continue doing so for as long as possible.

She looked down at the object in her hand. It was a lightsaber hilt, simple and elegant in its design. Although it was markedly similar to the one Malavai usually carried, it lacked the signs of frequent use that were visible on that particular hilt.

She looked up with a frown. “Why did you give me this? My lord,” she added hastily; he got grumpy when she left off the title, and she wanted to indulge her curiosity, not annoy him.

Malavai advanced into the room towards her. “I don’t believe that your Force affinity could have vanished completely. According to what I’ve read on the subject, with the proper stimulus, your sensitivity should be able to return.”

He did research on this? she thought incredulously. For me? No, surely not, he must have looked into this before for some reason…

“That’s a pleasant thought,” she said dubiously, “but where does the lightsaber come in?”

“You’re a Sith,” Malavai said matter-of-factly. “You’ve probably been trained in lightsaber combat from an early age. If you let yourself go enough during combat, your reflexes should take over, and you should touch the Force instinctively.”

K’hera raised a brow ridge. “I suppose it’s worth trying, my lord,” she said skeptically.

Malavai nodded. “Force-sensitivity doesn’t just disappear, K’hera. Your ability is locked away inside of you somewhere. I will not allow this waste of potential to continue. We will find a way to restore your power.”

The intensity in his words startled her, and she looked uncomfortably away from his gaze.

Malavai drew his lightsaber in a single smooth motion; no flair, no flourish, not from him. “Shall we begin?”

“I—um—now?” she spluttered.

He flashed her that small, smug grin that made her want to slap him for being such a handsome bastard. “No time like the present,” he said, and lunged for her.

She barely managed to activate the blade before he was on her. It was apparent to her almost immediately that he was holding back quite a bit. That was good, because she was barely holding her own. After only a few passes, he disarmed her.

“I must admit,” Malavai murmured, “I’m rather disappointed.”

This time, no amount of self-control was enough to keep her from glaring at him angrily. “I’m specialized with two lightsabers,” she snapped. “I’m not nearly as good with just one.”

“You could have mentioned that before.”

“And when was I supposed to do that?” K’hera demanded. “You tossed me the damn thing and attacked me!”

“I—“ Malavai stopped, took a breath, then started again. “You’re right. I…I apologize.”

The words sounded as if they pained him. She savored every moment of it.

“I don’t have another lightsaber with me at this time, but I will obtain one as soon as possible,” Malavai said firmly. “It is imperative that you find a way to restore your power as soon as possible.”

“Yes, my lord,” K’hera muttered. She knew better than to argue; she’d already seen enough of how Malavai’s mind worked to know that once he got an idea in his head, there was no stopping him.

“In the meantime,” he said briskly, “I see no reason not to work on your skills with a single blade.”

“If you insist,” she murmured grumpily. Emperor’s blood, does he have to treat me like an acolyte?

Malavai seemed to sense the direction of her thoughts, as he regarded her with another small smirk. He stretched out a hand, and the lightsaber she had been using flew into his grasp. Reversing the hilt so the emitter pointed towards him, he proffered it to K’hera.

She took the weapon with a mumbled thanks. Why did he have to be so difficult to figure out?