Wow, first published SWTOR fic. I've loved KotOR for a decade, but I can't seem to stick with the MMO unless I write fics for my characters. So here's one for my light side Sith Warrior. :D

Bit of backstory: You know Corso Riggs, from the Smuggler storyline? In the world of this fic, Ash'lynn saved him from torture at Darth Baras's hand by pretending she needed another "slave." So he's on her ship, traveling with her and Vette, but he's not really a part of the gang. The twi'lek mentioned, Rhyne, is my smuggler.

Okay, that should be it. Like I said, first fic in this fandom, so I'd love feedback!


Power and Control

"Why do you go through with it?"

Ash'lynn kept her gaze on the hull, her back to the door. She'd forgotten the name of the metal alloy, but it was strong and light and used throughout the ship. Indestructible, Darth Baras had said. But she could see the burn marks, pockets in the smooth surface where she'd razed her lightsaber.

Her whole room lay in shambles, actually. The wall had survived, but her sheets were ripped with haphazard jabs. Her dresser was overturned, cut from the floor and tipped to its side. Her clothes spilled out, and she'd sliced them to shreds too when she'd seen the fabric.

Black. Everything was black.

That was how the Sith operated: black and white.

Kill or die.

"Ash'lynn."

Ah. He was still here. She clenched her eyes shut, blocked out the pockmarks in the grey metal, and drew a breath. It didn't work. Fury roiled inside her, churning like an angry red ocean under a sky of black.

"I thought I locked the door," she replied through gritted teeth. Her words were barely decipherable, and that made her angry too.

She wanted to let the fury consume her again. Use it to overcome the emotions of grief and guilt. Lash out at the room because the room represented everything she loathed. And maybe, in a few hours or days or weeks, maybe she could forgive herself.

But probably not.

"You did. But Vette was worried, and I'm the only one on board who can pick a lock," Corso said. He'd been getting bolder lately. He still didn't trust her, but he was making an effort to hide it now. After all, he only cringed a little when she walked into the room.

She'd saved his goddamn life, put him on a ship where he had food and water and company, where no one tortured him for information. She'd started spending her own time tracking down his twi'lek friend, that Rhyne girl.

And yet he cringed when he saw her.

But after today, she couldn't blame him.

She felt the ocean boiling in her stomach, making her feel nauseas and shaky and impulsive. She clenched her hands into fists so she didn't do something stupid and said, "You should leave, Riggs."

His presence shifted. He was stepping further into the room, not moving away.

By the Emperor, she could kill him for his impudence.

Go ahead, her mind taunted. Add one more to today's score.

Ash'lynn felt herself breaking.

"Corso. Please. Leave, and lock the door on your way out." For your own safety.

This time, she felt him hesitate. His fear grew a little more pronounced, and the predator in her wanted to pounce on that. But then the fear was gone, replaced with blind confidence. "I think you've had enough time to yourself, Ash."

It was the first time he'd called her that. Vette used it constantly, a stagnant reminder that they were equals, partners in crime, no matter what the rest of the Sith Empire thought. Corso distanced himself from the nickname, from any sign they were more than captor and captive.

At the word, Ash'lynn found her anger subsiding. And something else, bobbing in the red ocean like a buoy.

Hope?

You don't need hope. You don't need friends. Peace is a lie, there is only passion—

She turned, met Corso's gaze. He was lounging against the wall, raising an eyebrow at her. He must have seen her shoulders trembling with barely-contained emotion, because he shrugged off the scored metal and held out a canteen.

"Something to drink? Always helps me calm the nerves."

This wasn't something from the mess hall. This was his personal canteen. Filled with his personal drink. Suspicion reared—poison, poison, kill him now!—and Ash'lynn paused. It wasn't poison. She knew when someone would deceive her. Every human had the same tells when committing a murder.

Elevated heart rate.

Dilated pupils.

Sweating hands.

The same tells she'd overpowered when she ran her lightsabers into two perfectly innocent women.

She pushed the canteen away. Corso looked surprised, and a little hurt, but he cleared his throat and pocketed the drink. "Never mind. I forgot Vette said you don't drink."

"No," Ash'lynn said. "Go away, Corso. Please."

He folded his arms and did a turn back to the original conversation. "Why did you go through with it?"

The buoy dunked beneath the crimson waves and didn't resurface. Overhead, the black sky smothered. Kill or die. Those were the options of a Sith apprentice.

But only children made excuses. She squared her shoulders and met his gaze and said, "It sounded like fun." Because that was the answer he anticipated. He would never see her as anything other than her title, and she wouldn't try to convince him otherwise.

She expected him to leave after that confession (that lie). She'd spoken it with enough conviction. Held his gaze. Narrowed her eyebrows. All in all, it should have been a convincing show, one more act to add to her blurring list.

Instead, he rolled his eyes.

She could count on one finger how often someone had rolled his eyes at her.

"Will you stop with the dramatics?" he said, sounding annoyed. (Annoyed! Kill him for his insolence. Kill—) "You're trying to be this big bad Sith lord, and two people died today to reinforce the image. What I want to know is, why do you bother?"

Ash'lynn took a step back. She nearly tripped over her fallen dresser, except that Sith didn't trip and she was Sith. She tried to firm her expression, to hide the cracks in her façade, but the cracks were all around her, burnt marks in smooth metal.

"I have no choice."

"Bantha shit," he said. On a happier day, Ash'lynn would have chuckled at the phrase. Today wasn't a happy day, however, and the best she could manage was to hold his gaze. Corso didn't look phased. "You always have a choice. You've just been making yours to please your 'master,' and that's idiotic. What are you hoping to accomplish?"

"Control!" Ash'lynn snapped. She wanted to step forward and reinforce her words, but she wouldn't get closer to this man, this man who could see through her entire being. "The Empire is broken, and I'm going to establish control. A world where people aren't killed to save a piece of information—that is what I will accomplish."

Corso considered her, and silence stretched for a long moment. He unfolded his arms and stared at her and his voice was deadpan when he replied, "You won't change a thing."

"You don't know my power."

"That's your problem. You rely on power, and you don't even realize that power is the reason you're miserable."

His words bit into her, and she clenched her hands again. Her lightsabers felt heavy at her hips, just within reach. It'd be easy to bring them out, slice him down. Kill the insolent fool.

But she didn't move, and he kept talking.

"Control won't solve anything. People will still be killed trying to be free of your 'control.' Exacting power just corrupts the person with the power."

Ash'lynn thought back to Darth Baras. He extinguished lives with the snap of his fingers, and played Emperor from the throne of his ship. She'd known from the beginning she would kill him, but now she wondered if someone had the same thought about her.

In twenty years, would she be in Baras's place?

She wanted that. No, needed that, had to take over if she wanted to change anything. But was it just a giant pitfall? Even with the power, could anything really be changed?

The ocean stilled, smooth as glass coated in blood. Above, the black sky shifted to grey.

"You think you're the first person to kill with good intentions?" Corso continued, stepping forward. She moved to step back again, but her quarters were small, and there was nowhere to go. She forced herself to meet his gaze.

"You trash your room and do your brooding silence thing, but it doesn't change the fact that you've murdered two women today. I'm not naive enough to think they're the first or the last, but you can't lock yourself in your room and expect everything to be okay when you come out."

"That's not—" Ash'lynn said, but cut herself off. That was exactly what she'd been doing. Channeling her grief into anger, lashing out, and regaining her cool persona before facing her crew. Pretending that it didn't affect her, pretending that as long as she kept that façade, Vette and Corso would continue to follow.

It was moronic, and she could see that now.

Corso (finally!) backed away, still holding her gaze. "I'm not going to be a part of whatever power trip you're on, so I don't really give a shavit what you do. But Vette will follow you to the end of the universe, and your actions will have consequences for her. Just keep that in mind as you move forward."

Ash'lynn stared numbly as he strolled out the door, sliding it shut behind him. She heard the lock click back into place, and the room fell into silence again.

She shifted, staring at the mess covering the metal floor. Tears leaked from her eyes as she bent to the ground and gathered up her shredded clothes. Her façade had splintered, shattered.

And all she could do was try to pick up the pieces.


A/N: Feedback is loved. Ash'lynn is on the Ebon Hawk server, if you want to look her up. :D