The Alternate Universe Weekly Challenge Thread

Scourge did not feel emotions the way a normal man could. They were cold, distant, and only ever anger, disgust, or contempt. He felt no pleasure or affection, given or received, the closest he had found since his transformation to immortality was mild amusement. A woman slept in his arms every night, a situation he found mildly amusing.

He woke her from her nightmares, often before they had properly begun. When he was too late he held her, drinking in her terror until it subsided. It was almost a fair exchange. Looking down at his sleeping charge, he could make out the thin scar that marred her cheek, he raged at how near it had been and silently cursed her for risking everything for a worthless man, a man who abandoned her for another without apology. Anger, disgust, and contempt he felt those frequently for her unwillingness to let go of childish connections, but he hid those thoughts lest she sense them and run away.

She had not run since their success on Balmorra and he wondered now if her newfound loyalty was gratitude for keeping his promise or because she had no one else. Mild amusement, she provided it in plenty. He would be pleased, if he could feel such a thing, she proved her power in the final moments of their most recent battle, he could see now that her full connection to the dark side required an intensity of emotions she was not normally capable of. He wondered how powerful she would be using the light side of the Force, he dismissed the thought as irrelevant, she was not the Jedi of his vision, but perhaps she could still save the galaxy given the proper motivation. It was still hope, if less than before, it was all that he had.

She shuddered in his arms, whimpering in her sleep, another nightmare. He drew her closer, stroking her arms and back, remembering a time when offering comfort to a woman would have greater meaning to him. Her eyes fluttered open and met his.

“The dream again?” He asked.

“No, not that dream.” She whispered and went silent, tears leaking out of her eyes. He thought she would fall asleep again but after a time she spoke. “He faced me.”

There was no question of whom she referred to. “And what does that tell you?”

“He was protecting her not me.” The tears still fell on his arm, they both ignored them.


The last of the Republic soldiers slumped over unconscious. Too late they realized that the Imperials found a way to pump knockout gas into the building. Only the Jedi could resist the toxin long enough to don masks.

They watched the monitors as a pair of figures approached the entrance. A pureblood Sith wearing a mask against the poisonous atmosphere and a small woman clad entirely in mercenary armor. Kira knew the lead figure and guessed the second, the Sith that helped retake Balmorra and his apprentice. She glanced at the Jedi Sajar, he was pale behind his breather, his hands shook as he struggled to control his emotions, and he radiated shame. Kira motioned for him to stay out of sight. They watched grimly as his executioner advanced.

“Traditionally a Sith will choose his armor to strike fear in his opponent.” Scourge remarked casting a sidelong glance at his apprentice.

“I think you’re scary enough for both of us.”

“You cannot hide behind me forever if you are to aid me.”

“Are you saying this greater enemy will fear a fifty kilo woman in a black bathrobe and a feather mask?”

“He will not, but we face more than just him. A Sith, no matter the size is always to be feared. A small mercenary is not.”

“You don’t recognize the value of being underestimated,” she considered his size and the predatory grace with which he moved, everything about him spoke of menacing power. “Then again, I doubt you’ve ever experienced it. Besides I can get power from making my enemy angry.” Her voice changed and despite her helmet he knew she smiled. “I seem to be good at that.”

“Anger will also help your opponent,” he replied, correcting her assumption. “Fear weakens your enemy while giving you strength. You gain a greater advantage by inspiring fear than being underestimated.”

She snorted, “Tell that to the Darth I killed with berries and a steak knife.”

“You were fortunate I recognized you from my vision. I could have stopped you had I wished.”

He had seen her in a Force-vision, she learned that much from his conversation with the Jedi, but he refused to elaborate. She did not bother askingnow, instead she teased him, “Aww, soft spot for Lachris?”

“Hardly.” He learned to ignore her teasing.

“That figured into my calculation as well. A Sith wouldn’t move to protect her unless you had something to gain, you’d probably let me kill her then kill me and take the credit or whatever it is you people do.”

“You would throw your life away for a single worthless target? That is hardly a sound strategy.”

“She wasn’t worthless to the resistance, and tell me my odds against your foe is better than my odds against Lachris.”

He could not answer that, he did not know what would happen to her, especially now.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He looked at his young companion with something bordering on humor. He was often surprised to find their conversations no longer irritated him. Now that she had stopped running away he found she was more disciplined than her flippant demeanor would suggest. She studied and trained with all the dedication he could have asked. Her views and observations of Sith life were interesting and oddly insightful when she chose to share them, like the perspective of an insect or a small creature. Someone who could not see the greater picture yet maintained the uncanny ability to survive.

He would have said more but they were almost at the entrance to the building, they could see that most of the soldiers had fallen where they stood. The Jedi Knight, Kira, approached the shield that spanned the entryway.

“I knew you weren’t one of the good guys.” She said fixing him with a cold glare.

He stood comfortably with his hands behind his back. “I have come for the Dark Council traitor. Turn him over and no one else will be harmed.”

“I won’t let you have him.”

“I smell his weakness. He will die by his own hand given the chance.”

“Well why don’t you stand there and wait for it. Meanwhile the Republic is sending reinforcements. Even asleep we can wait you out.”

Scourge sensed Coremi step back and activate her stealth generator.

“I guess your apprentice is smart enough not to wait with you.” Kira taunted, “It’s a shame, with the right training she could have been a halfway decent Jedi.”

“A waste, as Sith she can fulfill her destiny.”

“Being Sith is a waste.” Kira snapped, “I know who you are, Wrath. Do you really believe she has a destiny in the Empire or that she can be anything but pawn to your master?”

“You would be surprised at what I believe.”

A whisper of sound and a familiar presence marked Coremi’s return. A cloud of green vapor began filling the building. The unconscious soldiers closest to the vent began to choke.

“This time the gas will kill them.” He raised a brow, “Is one man’s life worth so many?”

“No.” Sajar said striding forward. He tapped the console dropping the shield. The gas began to disperse and the Imperials stopped venting it into the building. “Will you kill me here or take me in?” Scourge drew his saber at the former Dark Council member’s approach, but he heard the resignation in the man’s voice.

“My instructions were only to kill you if you resisted. My master would rather speak to you himself.” He smiled darkly as he felt the man’s despair intensify.

Sajar glanced over his shoulder at the young Jedi who tried to help him, “There is no death, there is the Force.” He quoted, “Tell Master Braga that I’m sorry.” He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and offered it to Scourge. The Sith motioned for the soldiers waiting in the distance to come forward to take Sajar into custody. No one noticed a Republic trooper regaining consciousness. Confused and sick, he only saw the Jedi surrendering and Imperials approaching. He panicked and opened fire.

Scourge stepped back easily avoiding the wild shots, a few of which found their way out of the building. The approaching Imperials saw the oncoming blaster bolts and returned fire. Forced to fight, Sajar engaged Scourge while Kira defended the entrance.

Kira leaped at the small line of approaching soldiers, expecting to land near the lead and cut him down, instead, she found herself swatted to the side by a wall of air. She rolled as the Imperials fired on her and deflected their shots at the invisible presence she sensed. She focused a blast of power in a wide cone hoping to disrupt her foe’s stealth field.

Coremi had been expecting such a move, she noticed both Sith and Jedi seemed to require a good deal of arm waving to focus their powers. It was an easy tell and she leaped high above the blast area. She drew her saber at the last moment becoming visible behind the Jedi and sliced through her personal shield generator.

Sparks flew from the small device with the added benefit of shocking the wearer. She did not waste time laughing as the Jedi shrieked and rid herself of the malfunctioning gear, much as she wanted to. The girl was not stronger in the Force but she was far more experienced and better trained.

Coremi felt the anger rising in the other Jedi, there had been unspoken animosity between them while they worked together on Balmorra, as a Jedi it was understandable that she did not like Sith, but this woman hated them, something Jedi were not supposed to do.

“I’m glad to see you two are still together,” Kira said sarcastically as she flipped over a sweeping kick only to be force pushed against a wall.

Coremi snickered, “Glad to see Doc still likes redheads.”

“Jealous?” the Jedi asked spinning toward her with a flurry of attacks.

“Ew, no. He dated my mom.” She timed that revelation to surprise the Jedi and followed it with a kick. Kira had been expecting an attack of that sort and feigned losing her balance, as the Sith pressed her advantage she whipped her doublesided lightsaber around, a killing strike. She felt triumph but also guilt. In another life, she thought, they might have been friends.

Doc lay behind a terminal where he had been trying to revive one of the first soldiers to succumb to the knockout gas. He shook his head and regretted it instantly. He forced himself to a crouching position behind the terminal, he could hear fighting all around him. He took a risk and peeked toward the entrance. He saw Kira fighting a mercenary with a lightsaber. In the distance the Sith from Balmorra fought with the Jedi they were sent to help save.

They fought, evenly matched, he did not know whom he wanted to win. Ever since abandoning her on Bamorra, twice now, he was consumed with guilt. He wished he could take it back, and help her, but the Jedi insisted she was Sith now and his feelings for Kira were real, what was more, he knew she returned them. His watched, torn and still confused from the poisons. Kira stumbled backward, she was vulnerable. Doc ran between the two fighters, hoping his old friend would pause long enough to be talked down or disabled. He trusted that Kira would not attack once Coremi stopped fighting.

Coremi saw the Jedi’s next attack whipping toward her, she smiled at the girl’s deception, in another life they could have been friends. She prepared to parry the blow when Doc stumbled between them. He held his hands up to her, his eyes pleaded for her to stop. Unable to reverse her current strike she deactivated her blade, twisting desperately to avoid the strike that was meant to kill her. One side of Kira’s saber cut through the front part of her helm, grazing her face, the other side went straight through Doc.

He glanced over his shoulder at the surprised Jedi, “Hey beautiful,” he mumbled as he fell.

Coremi yanked off her helm and went to her knees beside the doctor. “Doc?” she cried ignoring the burn that scorched her cheek. She ripped open his shirt to get at the wound, the Jedi’s saber had burned a massive hole in his gut, he was already dead when he hit the floor. She bandaged him anyway not knowing what else to do, hardly noticing the lightsaber aimed at her neck.

“Surrender.” The Jedi demanded as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Scourge was enjoying this fight. The battle had whittled away the façade of calm Sajar built at the behest of his Jedi masters. Now it crumbled revealing the dark power that gave him a seat on the Council. Unlike most Jedi, Sajar did not bother trying to convince him to change his ways, they fought in grim silence, the power of the dark side swirled around them. A surge of despair from the Jedi distracted the former Sith, it was his last mistake.

Sajar fell, his head neatly severed. Scourge turned thinking the Jedi’s despair meant his apprentice had prevailed, but instead she knelt unarmed before the Jedi. He cursed as the Imperial forces faced an increasing number of Republic troops slowly waking from their poison induced slumber. They would all die but he hated the messiness of Force-blind combat.

He studied his apprentice from a distance. She faced the Jedi, ignoring the soldiers Imperial and Republic alike. A mirthless smile crossed his lips as he felt her anger rising, he wondered how the Jedi was able to stand her ground in the face of it or perhaps she too grief stricken to notice.

Kira blinked back tears watching the girl attempt to help the doctor. His empty stare was still aimed in her direction, he tried to save her, and worse still she was the one who killed him. The Sith before her risked herself to avoid hurting him. It infuriated her, she hated this girl who was supposed to be special, whom her master allowed to go free because his instincts and the lying Sith’s vision. She was still armed, she had her duty, and she demanded the apprentice surrender. She met the girl’s eyes and realized her mistake.

A wave of force blasted from Coremi in every direction, it sent soldiers flying and damaged the building entrance, but the brunt of it was focused on the Jedi. Kira was lifted off her feet high into the air and hurled to the concrete floor. She landed with a sickening crunch and did not move, but Coremi was not finished, she grabbed parts of the damaged building and buried the girl, trying to break every bone in her body, to crush her very essence until nothing marked her existence but a smear.


Scourge traced the scar on her cheek, she flinched though not from pain. “You took a grave risk trying not to kill him, I almost lost you.”

She searched his face trying to understand him. “What is it that you face that forces you to put up with me?”

“What do you dream of?” he replied.

Back and forth, always the same questions but this time she chose to interpret it differently. “A time when the war is over and I can stop fighting.”

He understood her desire, she had never known anything but war, she could not know that life without it was no easier, not for people like them. “The war is not close to ending and we are living weapons, any other pursuit would be a waste.” Her body tensed briefly and she fell silent again.

“You are planning to run again.” He let his irritation show.

She frowned equally irritated. “Well what’s your plan? Keep me in the dark then shove me in a room with your enemy and hope your vision takes care of everything? What about after? If I can kill someone that you can’t, won’t you kill me because that’s what Sith do? Or will you keep me as your weapon and point me at your next target? Just,” She sighed frustrated, “just, give me a reason not to run.”

He frowned at her avalanche of words but she was not wrong. If they were to succeed she would need to prepare herself beyond what he could do for her. It was time that she discovered her destiny, he composed his thoughts to tell her the entire story, only then would she truly understand.

The com beeped.

He rose and went to the next room to answer it. The Emperor’s image appeared.

“Lord Scourge.” He intoned, “I have need of you, come to me.”

“Yes, master.” Scourge bowed.

“Bring your apprentice.” He commanded, “Your first in three hundred years, she must be quite special, I wish to see this woman for myself.” The transmission cut off leaving Scourge staring at the empty holoprojector. He looked up at a small sound, Coremi leaned against the doorway to his bedroom.

“So, I get to meet the boss.” She made a face, “Something tells me I shouldn’t be honored.”

“Indeed not.”

She walked to where he stood, and narrowed her eyes. “You still haven’t given me a reason to stay.” In his long life he had never met someone more stubborn, but she was not adept at hiding her thoughts or emotions, and if the Emperor suspected she was an assassin, he would kill them both or worse. He could not tell her the reason.

He kissed her instead.

This thing just didn't want to come together :/ Also, dead people!

“Stop that,” Scourge muttered under his breath.

“What?” Coremi replied innocently.

“You are glowing.” He growled. “Stop it.”

She had stopped pestering him about his vision, she stopped pestering him entirely, she even accepted his reasons for not furthering their relationship, that she could be used against him. She was young and susceptible, alone and vulnerable. He had not wanted to use those particular weaknesses but given the timing he had little choice. He watched her slip behind an expressionless mask. She stared back at him but something about her eyes seemed particularly bright. He looked away wanting to be done with this introduction.

The Emperor waited on his throne at the end of a long walkway. Some thought the room was built for intimidation, but it was really for security, there were few places for assassins to hide and only one way to reach the Emperor. Intimidation came from the Sith himself. His face was hidden by a grotesque mask and while this body he wore was thin and average in size, even a force blind could sense the power he wielded.

She knelt properly before him, moving only when he motioned for her to rise.

“My servant’s new pet.” His voice a harsh monotone, he touched her mind, he could not read thoughts, but he could sense emotions and he was very perceptive. He turned to Scourge, “All these years and you still manage to surprise me. Did you take her because she loved you? Did you hope to feel love again vicariously?”

Scourge had expected this line of questions, his expression did not change. “Of course not.”

A cold chuckle in response, “Did you tell her that you feel nothing, that you can never return her love?” Her eyes flickered between them betraying her surprise. “I see you did not. Were you saving that cruelty for another time?”

“She lacks the passion to become a true Sith, this was one way to unleash her anger, I simply would have waited longer.”

“Then I apologize for ruining things for you. Though I must thank you, her despair is quite powerful, I have not been so entertained in years.”

Scourge inclined his head.

“I would send you away so that you may torment her further but I need you here.” The Emperor continued, “Child you may observe so that your anger can fuel your master’s next battle. I have foreseen this day, the Jedi are planning an attack.”

Coremi turned and walked away stiffly. She rode a lift to a guarded observation deck. Even at a distance he felt her emotions spiking sharply, anger and shame.

They waited as the first alarms informed them of the intruder’s presence. “Alive if possible,” The Emperor intoned, “I have plans for them.”

“As you wish.” Scourge replied without taking his eyes of the entrance where four Jedi, kel dor, human, zabraak, and nautolan, appeared.

“Surrender, Sith.” The Kel Dor Jedi paced forward. “You and your master cannot stand against all of us.”

Scourge drew his saber at their approach. “You violate the Emperor’s sanctum. There is only one punishment.” With that he leaped among them.

Coremi watched the fight from her secure platform. She wanted to run but she could not move. She stood in a haze unable to focus, she could only feel her rising anger, burn with humiliation, and wonder how much of what she had been told was a lie. Was Doc dead because of a lie? How much of what she had done was because the Sith was toying with her, how much had she done because she wanted his approval.

She could only grip the edge of the cold metal railing high above a gaping chasm and watch her master fight. The Jedi were strong, but most were no match for Lord Scourge. Only the last, the kel dor alien drove him back. The Emperor observed dispassionately as he did everything, he leaped from his throne high above the platform where his servant fought. The Jedi sent a wave of Force that knocked Scourge away and charged the Emperor.

The ancient Sith raised his hands gathering a stream of purple energy and casting it at the last Jedi. The master caught it with his saber and tried to force his way forward, but eventually he fell. The Emperor surveyed the fallen Jedi. He laughed coldly, then he did something. Coremi watched in horror as the Jedi stood despite their injuries and shambled away. When they were gone he turned to her, for a moment his mind was open, and she sensed his thoughts. That brief glimpse of horror would have driven her to her knees if something else had not forced her to remain standing. She whimpered instead, the brief glimpse had shown what the Emperor had done, and worse it showed her what he planned to do. She watched Scourge struggle to his feet. He seemed to be looking up in her direction, and there was no doubt that her task was to stop his master.

She fell to her knees, released from whatever thrall had held her upright. She used the balcony to pull herself up, and for a mad moment considered jumping over the railing into the core of the fortress far below. Instead she made her way to the exit, Scourge having already been taken by aides to tend to his wounds.

They had not spoken since the battle in the throne room and while Scourge recovered she observed the Jedi. They were not the same as they were when they invaded. They no longer recognized each other, behaving as novice Sith. She stole medication from the infirmary to avoid her nightmares, she sensed that having them would call attention to herself, and that would prove fatal here. Now she felt calm and detached, it allowed her analyze recent events without the cloud of emotions Lord Scourge constantly stirred within her whether by accident or intent.

Scourge was not yet well enough to leave the medical station, but he left anyway. They docked at the Dromund Kaas orbital station. While they waited to refuel, he stood in the medical bay changing his bandages. Coremi wordlessly pushed his hands away and tended to his wounds. He could not sense her emotions and for once he was grateful for her medication.

He looked down at her as she checked a particularly deep gash, something about her had changed, she had seen the Emperor for what he was. “You saw him.”

She looked up but only met his eyes briefly before turning back to her task. “I did.” She worked quietly, she could have been rougher and used the time to inflict pain on him but she was gentle and efficient. “Tell me about your vision.”

He nodded. “Centuries ago, I discovered that the Emperor’s plan was not rule the galaxy but to consume it. I worked in the shadows opposing my lord Emperor in secret, until my vision: Jedi, shining with the Force, lined up to destroy him. All were swept aside. Then out of the shadows one Jedi emerged to cut the Emperor down. That Jedi wore your face.”

“I’m not a Jedi, I’m not a Sith either, you keep telling me my connection to the Force is flawed, and,” she hesitated, “I fail.” Her last words were a whisper. She continued to change his bandages but she felt his body tense. Without her medication she probably would have been terrified, if she was not the one from his vision, he would kill her. She thought that perhaps he should then he could find the Jedi and save the galaxy.

“Your dreams?” He asked finally, “Tell me about them.”

She shuddered. The memory of the dream stirred emotions stronger than her medication could counter, “The galaxy is dead, every star burned out, every planet cold. I don’t know why, I only know that it’s because I failed.”

Scourge watched her work remembering what the Jedi had told him about visions centuries ago and all he had experienced since. He knew she expected him to kill her but his conviction had weathered more than just nightmares. “The Force is still a mystery, but I do not believe your dreams were a vision. Perhaps they were a warning.” When she did not answer he cupped her face in his hands forcing her to meet his eyes. “The future is fluid, many things can change it, but I know you are the one from my vision, you can defeat him.” She only stared at him. He could not guess what she was thinking. “I do not regret my deception,” he said into the silence, unsure why he felt the need to explain. “Had I told you your destiny he would have sensed it and you would have fallen with the rest.”

She pulled away from him and returned to his numerous injuries. “I understand.” She pointed at her head, “In here I understand and when I can’t feel anything like now, I know I would have done the same.”

Her words surprised him. “Would you?”

“You wouldn’t be the first man to use his body to get what he wanted.” She glanced up at him and smiled at his reaction. “My mother did it, so did I, and we felt the same contempt and disgust.” She reached for a new roll of kolto strips and re-bandaged his arm. “It’s just different to be the mark, to realize you’re so easily manipulated, to question your every action and decision.” She hesitated, “Knowing that you loved someone and it was all a lie.”

He considered her words, wondering as he often did how he would feel if things were different. “The Emperor spoke the truth. I feel nothing truly, neither pleasure nor remorse. It was the price of my immortality, I accepted it so that I may find you.”

She completed her task and looked up at him intently. She reached up and brushed her hand against his cheek studying his reaction. “What can you sense?”

He covered her hand with his. “I know that your hand is on my cheek, I know that your skin is soft and cool, I know these things with my mind but I do not feel them. Taste, smell, touch, color, emotions, I have felt none of these for three hundred years.” She tried to pull her hand away but he held it and her gaze. “I still remember the feel of sunlight on my skin, the scent of my favorite foods, the color of my first love’s eyes. To experience those simple pleasures again would be worth anything. But I am no longer mortal; my only purpose now is to stop him.” He released her hand but he saw a spark of hope in her eyes.

“Would killing him bring your emotions back?”

He would not lie to her again. “No,” he answered with a sardonic smile, “but revenge is not without value.”

She nodded, bowing her head as what little hope she had faded. When she looked up her eyes blazed with anger no drug could suppress, she smiled grimly, “Then we will kill him and I will have revenge too.”

Borrowing heavily from scourge conversations.

Scourge woke to the sound of the com beeping, he was alone. He rose from his bed, thinking it odd not to see a small red haired woman curled up on her side. He answered the com in the next room, the ghostly image of his apprentice appeared. He folded his arms across his chest.

“I’ve been thinking.” Coremi began.

“And you could not do that here?”

“No, I couldn’t.” she agreed quietly, “Once I stopped the medication, I felt too much, I needed to be away from you just to put two thoughts together." She seemed embarrassed by the admission but took a deep breath and continued, "I wanted you to know that I wasn’t running, I’m transmitting my com frequency so you can contact me.”

He scowled, “And what of your training?”

“I’ll keep in practice, but I’m also tracking down some leads that might help us with our problem.” She would not talk specifics over an open channel. She tilted her head, “Honestly, would you prefer to have me weeping and raging at you right now?”

He narrowed his eyes at the projection. “No.”

Her lips quirked into a half grin, “Call me if you want me for something, I’ll let you know if I find anything on my end.” She did not wait for him to acknowledge or approve. “Go back to sleep, Sith.” She said and ended the connection.

He returned to his bed thinking of the previous night, he held her while she cried, cursing him for his lies, her face buried in his chest. He shifted restlessly every position seemed wrong, his arms were empty and the presence that had grown so familiar was gone. It was not what he would have preferred.

Aboard Fury-class starship
11 ATC


“I fixed the food prep unit,” Vette announced.

K’hera looked over at the machine. “So you did. Nicely done.”

“You’re welcome,” Vette said dryly. “Does this mean I’m the unofficial cook?”

“Considering that if it weren’t for that thing, we’d all die of starvation, yes,” K’hera said lightly.

She and Vette had developed an odd sort of rapport. She wouldn’t call the Twi’lek a friend, not exactly, but she was tolerable company. K’hera couldn’t help but admire her spirit.

Anyone who dares talk back to Lord Malavai is in my good books, she thought. And he really was Lord Malavai now—Baras had granted him the title. Either it was her imagination, or he was even more insufferably arrogant now than he had been before.

Vette glared at the food prep unit. “I’m sick of this stuff,” she complained. “What I wouldn’t give for a nice blumfruit…” She sighed. “Oh, well. Guess it’s better than prison food.”

K’hera shuddered faintly, remembering the dismal state of what little she’d eaten during her incarceration. “You could always make yourself something if you’re that bored,” she said, trying to distract herself. “It’s not as though we don’t have any supplies.”

Vette frowned. “If I do that, you’ll all start making me do it all the time. I am not a chef, and I am not your slave.”

K’hera looked pointedly at her shock collar.

“Okay, maybe I technically am a slave,” Vette conceded. “But I’ll be damned if I do anything more than I have to for you people. That includes cooking.”

“It’s your funeral,” K’hera said with a shrug.

“Uh oh,” Vette whispered suddenly, looking towards the doorway. “Clown-face is on the prowl.”

K’hera glanced over to see Jaesa entering the galley. The fallen Jedi regarded the two of them with what was probably intended to be a haughty expression. The vivid violet makeup smeared clumsily across her eyes and mouth ruined what little effect it might have had.

“What do you want?” K’hera demanded curtly. She had no patience for fools, and Jaesa Willsaam definitely fell into that category.

“What are you two gossiping about?” Jaesa demanded. She had adopted a shrill facsimile of an Imperial accent; it made K’hera’s teeth hurt to hear it.

“Nothing that concerns you,” she returned coldly.

Jaesa’s over-exaggerated sneer twisted into a sulky glare. “You should be more respectful when addressing your superiors.”

“You are not my superior,” K’hera snapped.

Vette snickered softly.

Jaesa put her hands on her hips. “I am a Sith,” she declared. “You need to show proper deference.”

K’hera’s control over her temper was rapidly eroding. “You may be Lord Malavai’s apprentice,” she said through gritted teeth, “but you are not a Sith.”

“How dare you?” Jaesa half-shrieked. “I should punish you for your impudence!”

“Tell it to someone who gives a damn,” K’hera retorted, then deliberately turned to face Vette again.

“Lord Malavai will hear of this,” Jaesa hissed.

K’hera looked over, raising a brow-ridge. “And what will you tell him? That you were trying to push me around and failed miserably? I’m sure he’ll be most impressed.”

For a moment, she thought that Jaesa might explode with rage. But instead, the young woman made an angry squawk, and stomped out of the galley.

“Sheesh,” Vette muttered. “You have to do something about her.”

K’hera frowned. “Why me?”

“Because, as you oh so accurately pointed out, I am a slave,” Vette said dryly. “I have no power over her.”

“Technically, I don’t either,” K’hera said awkwardly. “When it all comes down to it, she’s a Sith apprentice, and I’m…Force-blind.” The words tasted bitter, but she forced them out anyway. It was the truth, no matter how much she hated it.

“Then follow your own advice to the makeup disaster and talk to Lord Malavai,” Vette suggested.

“He’ll think I’m weak,” K’hera said darkly. “I need to stand up for myself.”

“And when the cosmetic catastrophe finally snaps and uses the Force on you?” Vette demanded. “What’ll you do then? Tell Malavai to rein her in.”

“He won’t listen to me.”

“Sure he will! He likes you.”

K’hera stared at Vette incredulously. “You’re insane. He hates me.”

Vette smirked at her. “You haven’t seen the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.”

“What in the galaxy do you mean?”

Vette’s smirk widened. “He looks at you all the time. I think he likes the way you fill out your clothes, if you know what I mean.”

“You’re delusional,” K’hera said frostily.

Vette shrugged. “Maybe I am. But I know how to follow a line of sight, and I’d bet good money I’ve seen him checking out your—“

“Enough, Vette.”

“Okay, have it your way,” Vette sighed. “Hide from the truth all you want…”

“There is no truth to hide from,” K’hera snapped. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” She turned and stalked out of the room.

Vette watched her go, chuckling softly to herself.




K’hera skulked on the bridge, trying to decide whether to approach Malavai about Jaesa. She hated to go to him with this problem—it would probably lessen his already-low opinion of her. No doubt he already considered her to be a useless weakling. Their sparring sessions had accomplished nothing in bringing back her Force-sensitivity, although it was nice to feel lightsabers in her hands again. She still hadn’t told him how she had lost her powers, and she didn’t intend to. If he knew that her master had been a traitor, he’d probably kill her out of principle.

She agonized over whether to speak with him for some time, but her decision was ultimately made for her as Malavai stepped into the bridge and walked over to her.

“I can sense a certain degree of turmoil within you,” he said. “Is there some problem?”

K’hera sighed inwardly. There was nothing for it, now. “My lord,” she said stiffly, “I would appreciate it if you could speak with Jaesa. Ask her to stop overstepping the bounds of her authority.”

Malavai frowned. “I have not noticed any discrepancies in her behavior.”

“I ask only that you clarify the chain of command, my lord,” K’hera said irritably. “I would rather not have to defer to that woman.”

“She is my apprentice, and a Sith, now,” Malavai pointed out.

K’hera frowned. “With all due respect, my lord, she’s hardly experienced. Even without my Force-sensitivity, I daresay I’m more competent a Sith than she is.”

Well, that came out bluntly, she thought. He’s not going to like that.

Malavai looked taken aback. After a moment, he nodded slowly. “Very well. I’ll inform her that you answer only to me.”

“Thank you, my lord,” K’hera murmured, bowing to hide her surprise. “I am most grateful.”

“Don’t mention it,” Malavai said softly. He took a step closer, regarding her with that intense blue stare that always made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. “I have been doing some research into potential ways to restore your Force abilities in my spare time. Suggested methods tend to vary between specific cases. If I knew the details of how exactly you lost your sensitivity, I might be able to—“

“No,” she snapped, stepping back.

Malavai frowned. “I understand that this is probably a sensitive subject, but it could be the key to finding a way to restore your powers.”

“I really don’t like talking about it,” K’hera muttered. “I’d rather not…”

“Surely the benefits restoring your connection to the Force far outweigh any temporary discomfort,” Malavai urged.

K’hera gritted her teeth. She’d known him long enough to know that once he got an idea in his head, he refused to let go until he had pursued it to the end of its full potential. “You really want to know?” she said quietly. “Fine. But you won’t like it.”

For a moment, she struggled, trying to determine where and how to begin. But as she looked up into his eyes, the words came pouring out, faster and faster, until by the time she had reached the end she was practically incoherent.

When she was finished, she took a long, slow breath and looked down at the floor. She felt strangely relieved, as though a great deal of tension had been bottled up inside of her, and by finally telling someone her story, she had released that tension.

Gloved fingertips touched her chin, and Malavai tilted her face upward. His own face was as deliberately blank as ever, but she could see rage flickering in his eyes.

“K’hera,” he said, as gently as she had ever heard him sound. “What was done to you was wasteful and pointless. Now the Empire is down a Sith, all for the sake of satisfying a few inquisitors’ sadistic urges.” He shook his head. “It sickens me.”

K’hera stared silently up at him, at a loss for words. Of all the reactions she had expected, this was not one of them.

“Thank you for telling me this,” Malavai said quietly. “I promise that I will do whatever I can to find a way to bring back your connection to the Force.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” she whispered. “My lord.”

He seemed to realize that he was still touching her face, and quickly dropped his hand as though burned. “I’ll be sure to speak with Jaesa,” he said quickly, then turned on his heel and all but fled the bridge.

K’hera stared after him. What the hell just happened?

Either I'm crazy, or everyone feels slightly OOC in this. But I really don't want to go back and rewrite it all, so... I'll leave it as it is. Feel free to criticize.

Belsavis

Monitors beeped and chirped, he knew the results just by listening. He glanced at them and made adjustments for the next experiment. Of all the places an escaped prisoner would hide, a prison planet seemed unlikely, exactly the reason he chose it. Here he need only guard for his safety from the wildlife and other convicts, his activities would go unremarked.

The weapons and supplies he stole from the Republic made convenient bait for the escapees. Those that made it past his defenses into his lab were deemed hardy enough to become test subjects. Most of them wished that they died from turrets.

The man known only as Watcher X was pleased to have such a range to work with. In the Empire, the species available were always limited and the rarer ones were always sickly slaves. Here a menagerie of every species in the galaxy, most robust, even clever, with their survival instincts intact.

He gazed at the voiceless screaming faces of the men and women who had tried to attack his home. “What shall we learn today?” He would ask them when he was in the mood for humor. Otherwise he never spoke, he only observed his lab and the greater lab that ran wild outside through slices in every datafeed. He even saw an old friend and followed her progress through the twisting warrens of the prison. Coincidence was fascinating, he would study it one day.

A secure message drop indicated activity. The sender did the only thing that would garner a response. She gave him an interesting problem. He cleared his console and entered parameters for a new problem, rattling off a quick message inviting her to meet with him. It had been long since he had real company, at least this would be interesting.

If you'll recall Watcher X and Coremi know each other from the Life and Death Drabbles