Author's Opening Notes: The Old Republic belongs to Bioware and LucasArts. I'm just playing in their sandbox.

The title is shared by an Alice Cooper song of the same name, a couple lines of which caught my attention.

A brief note: the Sith Warrior is older than might be considered usual, being close to thirty. Thus, she had a life before Korriban—that of an aristocrat for whom formal Sith training was a choice (the edicts mentioned in-game would have come about after she was of age; she was 'home-schooled' by her father from a young age).

Now, without further ado…

Welcome to my nightmare, I think you're gonna like it. I think you're gonna feel like you belong.

~"Welcome to My Nightmare" by Alice Cooper

-Hella-

The station was a small one, certainly not meant for much more than observation. Off the beaten path—so to speak—it was clear they did not anticipate unwelcome company.

Which was unfortunate for them, since 'unfortunate company' had just disembarked.

The light complement of soldiers Quinn and I encountered confirmed my theory: this place was never meant to be found by anyone it had under observation. The naiveté—or, more accurately, stupidity—of this made me snort softly as I stepped over one of the corpses. I have never understood why people assume something will never be found by 'the enemy' when history clearly shows that everything is eventually found—though, admittedly, not always by 'the enemy,' whomever that may be.

Quinn's on-alert attentiveness buzzed pleasantly at my shoulder as he navigated us toward the heart of the station. He provided a soothing counterpoint to the lingering echoes of fear, pain, and despair of the dead men and women. I never asked, but perhaps I should, how he knows so many general schematics. It's like he has this book of them in his mind and can just flip to the one he wants and unerringly get us where we need to be.

"—would be undetected, but the ship we've been tracking for you is here!"

I paused at the door, feeling the pulse of several people's fear/anxiety beyond it.

The answer was unintelligible through the closed door, but the low tone was soothing—or supposed to be. The auras on the other side of the door didn't calm as I palmed the door open.

"It will not serve you. I will speak with your visitor when the time comes."

"Then that time is upon you," I noted as I stepped into the room, lightsabers easy in my hands. The men at the monitoring stations were, to all appearances, unarmed. They were certainly without anything more protective than uniforms. Most of them had the weedy look of career technicians all of them had the earmarks of total terror, an appearance confirmed by the way the fear in the room spiked. It was almost clogging to my senses, the fear was so strong.

Apart from the technicians was only a man on the holo: a Jedi in minimalistic robes, with thick hair and beard that might have been brown. He was fit, it's true, but the fact that he wasn't here seemed to me a mark against him.

What conscientious Jedi could possibly condone leaving these people unarmed when tracking a Sith?

Which means that either Nomen Karr is not bothered by collateral damage—an interesting prospect in itself—or he has reinforcements hidden somewhere on the station. If so, it's possible I didn't actually cut through the entirety of the security presence here.

Ah, well. We shall see, I suppose.

I moved into the capture range of the holotransmission, the tech who'd been speaking to Nomen Karr when I arrived moving as far back as he could. "I am here. Say your piece."

"Ah…okay…" the tech's fear went to terror as the full impact of what was happening hit him. He'd been tracking a Sith. Not just any Sith, but the Sith now standing feet from him, armed and ready, with an Imperial Officer in tow and he, the tech, had no idea how many people were alive outside this room and, of those that were, how many were his faction and how many were mine. For all he knew, the station was crawling with Imperial soldiers waiting on a cue from me.

"You never told me we'd be tracking a Sith!" the tech hissed at the unflappable Jedi.

"Tch, tch. That was unkind." If I focused, I could catch tiny echoes from the Jedi, but the focus needed to bring clarity to those emotional cues was greater than I felt comfortable exercising. If I knew the station to be absolutely empty, it might have been different.

Then again, I suppose what he feels is of little consequence: it isn't as though he's here for me to contend with. He can but watch.

The Jedi was almost patronizing as he waved a shushing hand at the tech. "You were provided the details necessary to perform your duties. Now, please, remain quiet."

I can see what makes Jedi so sickening; I thought, perhaps, the one on Balmorra was just that blindly devoted to her orders and her superiors. Now, I see that she shares in a common sense of…criminal naiveté.

It's as though Nomen Karr truly believes that anyone I didn't bring onto this station will survive. How stupid is he? And what does this mean in the long run?

"Sith, I presume you are Darth Baras' new apprentice?"

Presume away. The more interesting question is whether his little rabbit is aboard his ship and—if she is—whether or not she is present and listening. I shall have to assume that she is. I hate manipulating blindly, but in this case I have little choice. But first, to know how to come at her, I have to know to what pressures this Jedi subjects her.

"I am Jedi Master Nomen Karr. Do you know me?"

He certainly sounded as though I ought to. I felt my mouth curl into a sneering smile. "And what you say if I said I didn't?" I asked before licking my teeth thoughtfully catching in the line of his mouth a distinct twinge of annoyance. Chuckling, I addressed Quinn over my shoulder, though without looking away from Nomen Karr. "What do you think, Quinn? Should his reputation precede him?"

As ever, Quinn's response was perfectly tuned to the situation, conveying all the distaste for a Force-user a non-Force-user can muster. Surely his tactician's mind was deploring the wastefulness of leaving a station like this to fall into enemy hands to easily while mentally repurposing it to benefit the Empire. I shall have to remember not to let this place fall into limbo; Quinn will know who to send its location to.

Apart from pragmatism, there was a glimmer of amusement at my baiting of this Jedi. A very reserved amusement, it's true, but we all have our petty moments. "Doubtful, my lord. Jedi rarely aspire to galaxy-wide recognition."

It was definite this time, a distinct curl of the lip that indicated Quinn had kicked some soft or sore spot with the Jedi. Not such a perfect Jedi, perhaps? Seeds of pride, then? Of ambition? The lore a Sith receives about Jedi boils down to the fact that they try to divorce themselves from the feelings and emotions that make them sentient beings; most of them are unsuccessful in that they suppress these 'undesirable traits' in such a way that, out of sight out of mind, they can ferment and grow toxic without the Jedi necessarily being the wiser.

"Hmm," I agreed, nodding. "That sounds like...pride." I studied Nomen Karr's once more impassive expression again. "Does it irritate you that I have only a vague idea of who you are, Master Karr?" It doesn't matter what I can feel from him: what matters is what his little rabbit feels, if she's there. Without distance, her perceptions will be more acute. Best to acclimate her to sensing the negative of her master as soon as possible, before we meet face-to-face. Give her time to entertain the notion that I am not, in this instance, lying.

"Then feel flattered, Sith: I have a substantial view of who you are," came the grim and somewhat sour response.

I arched my eyebrows as if inviting him to share with the class, but he did not.

"Baras and I like to keep tabs on each other. When I heard he'd taken on a new apprentice, I investigated. These men," Nomen Karr gestured to the techs in the room, "were merely monitoring the equipment. Following orders. There is no need for bloodshed."

…is he truly in earnest? I studied his face for a moment, half expecting him to continue. When he didn't, my disbelieving smile became a disgusted sneer before morphing back into a smile. His stupidity has just handed me a weapon I can use if the girl is there and watching. Let her see how cavalier her master is with the lives of others as he tries to shield her from me. It is already necessary that I tear through her former mentor and her parents, but this…this is the perfect opening to the process of wedging her training apart to reveal the fragile center of her being. The process begins with seeding doubt.

Slowly, the first steps of the path to bringing this girl away from the Jedi and into my party became clear. Killing her is, I have always felt, wasteful but she absolutely cannot be permitted to remain with the Jedi or join Baras' party. Apprentices of my caliber eventually find themselves on the wrong side of masters of Baras' caliber. It's just how the Sith system works. I don't know how this girl's gift will be of benefit to me, but all the more reason to have access to it and to her. One never knows.

"I'm not a military mind," I answered, "but it seems to me that if they'd known they were tracking a Sith—especially since you claim to know so much about me—they might have taken extra precautions against my showing up."

From the looks on their faces, the techs agreed with my assessment. They already knew how this would end and I think it was only Quinn and his ever-ready blaster that kept them from doing something precipitous—like trying to make a run for it. It's always more interesting when the prey runs, but I'd rather the slaughter happen here, so I can adjust the transmission's capture range to give Nomen Karr and his pretty Padawan a good look at carnage. I doubt the girl's ever been within eyeshot of a Sith. The thought reinforced the idea that all my presentation here must fly in the face—as much as possible—of whatever garbage the Jedi espouse about us.

I might be a killer, but I should make it quick and clean unless provoked. It must all be seen as occurring because I am 'under orders' from my master. It must appear that Nomen Karr is the one wasting life by throwing people before me when I have no choice but to obey my master—because I'm sure Jedi are as adamant on obedience from their Padawans as Sith are of their apprentices (for as long as that lasts). If she feels trapped by her apprenticeship then, perhaps, this idea of sharing the feeling of entrapment will work in my favor. One never knows.

"Was it that you wished to preserve Jedi lives that you left these men so under-guarded?" I asked blandly, "Or did you honestly think I—or any Sith—would leave your assets alone, just because you asked it?"

I didn't let him answer. Within seconds, everyone in the room, barring Quinn and myself, lay dead. The whole thing was an exercise in efficiency. There was no chance to run, barely a chance to scream. Death came hard and fast, surgically precise. I usually prefer it that way, so I was glad to exercise my personal preference while attempting to make a point.

Nomen Karr's face was hard when I looked back at him. "That was an excessive display," he said darkly, voice low in his throat, eyes narrowing at me.

I felt it, a tiny 'pop' of something very un-Jedi. If I felt it at this distance looking at a hologram, and if she's there, even a Padawan must.

I smiled for Nomen Karr, turning off my lightsabers. "Excessive? If you wanted a show of excess, Master Karr, you should have said so. I would have happily obliged."

Nomen Karr proved to be his own worst enemy in that he kept giving me openings to spread my poison to my maybe-there-maybe-not target. "Those men were defenseless and unarmed..." He had the gall to actually sound shocked. How can a Jedi Master of his reputation not have expected such a thing? If anything, it should be my restraint and efficiency that was noteworthy.

Ugh. It's amazing their Order is still standing.

It was not difficult to snarl the answer I flung at him. "And you left them that way, knowing that no Sith ever spared a life because a Jedi requested it. You left them vulnerable and unprotected, knowing that no Sith could afford to leave such an observation post intact, leave the crew alive because they might know something that could inconvenience said Sith later. You put them in an ugly position, Master Karr, knowing exactly how this must play out." I let some of the bridled rage go, injecting a note of grim deprecation into my tone. "Was their sacrifice worth it? Can you sleep with it on your soul?"

Nomen Karr scowled at me, tiny lines etching his face, visible even in the projection. "That a Sith should speak of consciences and souls proves the weakness of your position. And your sad attempt to deflect responsibility troubles me little: I shall honor Hirosho and his men's lives by dedicating myself to thwarting you and your master."

Sounds like revenge to me, dressed up so prettily. And he was angry: there were traces of it in his words and in the faint burning sensation that chafed against my perceptions as I gazed into the hologram's eyes. "You sound very passionate about the matter...angry, even."

He ignored the bait. "I have long been prepared for the possibility of my operation being discovered."

I hope that little girl is there, listening to this. 'Long been prepared' but not prepared enough to save these men. 'Long been prepared' but it is I who shall leave this station breathing.

"It calms me to know that you and Darth Baras have no idea what you're up against."

His expression of smug satisfaction didn't match my definition of 'calm,' but whatever helps him sleep at night, I suppose. "Ah, yes," I nodded, "your little rabbit. Is she here? Is she listening?"

"My lord," Quinn declared in an undertone that, in all probability, went uncaptured by the transmission equipment.

"No, but your gift for conversation has been your undoing," Nomen Karr answered. I believe he might just be doing just what I'm doing in reverse: giving this Padawan her first good look at the Sith hunting her and hoping to cast me in a negative light. If so, he's marginally more intelligent than I gave him credit for being.

Footsteps followed Quinn's quiet tug at my attention. When I glanced back, I found Republic soldiers finally trooping in, looking grim. They ignored the bodies with their eyes, but a miasma of negative emotions clogged up my senses. Some felt the deaths were my fault, some felt the deaths where theirs. Some were sad, others were angry.

It gave me the first twinges of a headache until I blocked out the additional perceptions as best I could. The headache converted itself into a low level of nausea, easier to deal with.

"These men are among the Republic's finest. Go with them peacefully and the Jedi Council will take that into consideration."

Irritation tamped down on the nausea. It's no wonder half the galaxy thinks that the Jedi are fools. I just hope the little rabbit recognizes the placation of forms rather than misconstrue this as a true gesture of benevolence. He can't afford to let me walk away any more than I could afford to leave this base intact.

He knows I'll keep hunting his precious Padawan.

I sighed, shaking my head. "You wanted a show of excess, Master Karr? You shall have it." And I can trust Quinn to do what he can to ensure I have the opportunity to make my show without significantly increasing the danger to ourselves. We've done this dance before, he and I, and he gets better with each repetition.

The adrenaline of a fight with armed opponents helped block out the fear and agony that followed. Limbs sheared off, ricocheting blaster bolts bounced off my lightsabers to strike equipment or the teammates of those shooting at me. The reek of cooking meat and the sharp smell of carbon scoring filled the air.

Finally, though, there was silence and stillness, apart from Quinn's and my heavy breathing and the thunder of my own heart. My hands shook slightly as my pulse pounded in my veins.

I strode back to the holoterminal and adjusted the capture range, smugly noting the stony look on Nomen Karr's face. Today, as far as he was concerned, I'd signed my own death warrant—though I think we both know that he felt I needed to die the day I joined Baras' camp. This just gives him legitimacy, an excuse to call for my head.

Jedi are legalistic that way, it seems.

"I see Darth Baras has found himself a singularly vicious weapon in you. This experience has given me valuable insight. I'll be prepared the next time we meet, Sith."

I highly doubt it. But it's given his little rabbit insight, perhaps. Hopefully insight that is beneficial to me. And, just maybe, beneficial to her after a fashion.

"Yes," I agreed. "But will she be?" I smirked and cut the transmission.

"Do you think she was listening in?" Quinn asked after a few silent moments dragged on.

"I think so, yes," I answered, clipping my lightsabers to my belt. "We're done here. Let us give the next twist of the rack."

Quinn fell in at my shoulder, his aura soothing against my perceptions.

-Jaesa-

I stood off to one side as Master Karr answered the emergency hail. My stomach tightened with apprehension as the holo switched on. Surprise whispered from Master Karr, but he spoke calmly, "What seems to me the matter, Hirosho?"

Hirosho. I recognize the name: he was set to watch The Sith. I shuddered inwardly; Master Karr names Darth Baras, his rival...but gives no name to Darth Baras' enforcer. She is, has always been, simply 'The Sith,' as if to use her name would be to attract her attention.

I have a bad feeling about this...

"What is it that concerns you?"

"Master Karr," Hirosho's words came out in a patter, agitated and...frightened. No, terrified. "You promised we would be undetected, but the ship we've been tracking for you is here!"

"Calm your fear, Hirosho," Master Karr soothed, folding his hands into his sleeves. "It will not serve you. I will speak with your visitor when the time comes."

I shifted nervously from foot to foot. No one's said it outright, but I can read between the lines. Darth Baras wants Master Karr dead—that's no secret. But Master Karr poses a significant threat to Darth Baras because of me. And sooner or later, that enforcer—if she can't be stopped—will turn her attention on me.

I made up my mind to add another quarter hour to my meditations before bed: the idea of The Sith focusing on me, specifically, made me feel a kind of sick-scared I'd never experienced before.

"Then that time is upon you," the voice was low, full of humor—not unlike Lady Gesselle's—but darker. She strode easily into the holo's capture range. "I am here. Say your piece." She said it, as if she were a judge opening a court hearing.

It was the first time I'd ever seen her, and she wasn't what I'd expected: marble-pale, heavily veined wreck of a human being with thin straggly hair and bruises beneath her eyes, glimpsed through the eyeholes in the mask she wore to hide her disfigurement.

The only thing this Sith had in common with my mental image was the fact that she wore her fingernails—visible because her gloves were fingerless—painted dark.

She was middle height, her red hair pulled aggressively back into a high ponytail. Her face, even distorted by the blue tones of the holo, showed Dark Side ravages, and her makeup made her look even fiercer than many far-gone Sith. Her smile and the light in her eyes caught my attention the most; I'd never seen anything like them before...and the look unnerved me. She strode into the room with small, light steps, with the result that she almost seemed to float forward. She wore an abbreviated vest that left her midriff and arms mostly bare, and a long skirt-like thing over her boots and leggings. Gloves and elbow-guards lent to the mix of armed practicality and something like…style.

"Ah...okay..." Hirosho stammered, backing away from The Sith, though remaining within capture range.

Motion caught my eye: The Sith apparently traveled in company, though the grey-uniformed Imperial said nothing, his presence like a stone, a failsafe in case anything beyond The Sith's control should occur. Everything about him exuded confidence that nothing was ever out of The Sith's control. Nothing. His eyes tracked her motion, alert for hints or clues.

I shivered. They're like...jackals.

"You never told me we'd be tracking a Sith!" Hirosho hissed.

The Sith clicked her tongue. "Tch, tch. That was unkind."

It was, and agreeing with The Sith made me nervous.

"You were provided the details necessary to perform your duties. Now, please, remain quiet," Master Karr directed evenly, turning his attention towards The Sith, who continued lazily regarding him...like a cat looking at a fish in an aquarium. It can't get to the fish...but it would like to.

Suddenly, I knew without doubt that Hirosho and everyone on that station were dead. They simply hadn't fallen, yet. They'd been dead from the moment The Sith found the tracking device on her ship—or had it brought to her attention.

I glanced at Master Karr, glad that I was not in the projector's capture range. I was here to learn our enemy and to do so discreetly.

"Sith, I presume you are Darth Baras' new apprentice?"

Her mouth merely quirked to one side, as though that should be answer enough.

"I am Jedi Master Nomen Karr. Do you know me?"

"And what would you say if I said I didn't?" she asked casually. She licked her teeth visibly before tilting her head so she could address her Imperial without taking her eyes of Master Karr. "What do you think, Quinn? Should his reputation precede him?"

"Doubtful, my lord,"the Imperial answered reservedly, "Jedi rarely aspire to galaxy-wide recognition."

I shivered; there was cruel humor in his tone, though none of it on his face. The way he answered only at her prompting might make it seem as though he were pandering to her Sith requirement for backup...but there was something there that made me doubt this. No, I had the impression that he'd have given her the truth, whether she agreed with it or not...and that when she'd asked, she'd asked because she already knew the answer...

...no. No, that's not it at all. And the idea only occurred to me when Master Karr stiffened. I'm not very good at reading auras, but it was hard to miss the faint sweep of irritation. Clearly The Sith wasn't taking this as seriously as it should be taken. She's got lightyears between Master Karr and herself and no one to stop her if—when—she decides to slaughter the station personnel. She can bait and taunt and see what gets a reaction…even if that reaction is just an increase in calm presentation.

"Hmm. That sounds like...pride," The Sith purred. "Does it irritate you that I have only a vague idea of who you are, Master Karr?"she asked.

"Then feel flattered, Sith: I have a substantial view of who you are," Master Karr responded. "Baras and I like to keep tabs on each other. When I heard he'd taken on a new apprentice, I investigated. These men," Master Karr gestured to Hirosho and his cohorts, "were merely monitoring the equipment. Following orders. There is no need for bloodshed."

The Sith's eyes swept the room. "I'm not a military mind, but it seems to me that if they'd known they were tracking a Sith—especially since you claim to know so much about me—they might have taken extra precautions against my showing up."

Her implication as clear: Master Karr knew less than he pretended or he'd have known she'd end up on Hirosho's station, sooner or later. And, knowing that, there should have been someone there to stop her.

"Was it that you wished to preserve Jedi lives that you left these men so under-guarded? Or did you honestly think I would leave your assets alone, just because you asked it of me?" Her words had a hypnotic quality, and I found myself swallowing hard.

Master Karr did not oppose her...and his warning to Hirosho and his men to defend themselves was too slow...and sounded almost feeble in my ears...

The Sith exploded into action so quickly that I had trouble following how she managed so much carnage so quickly. Then again...Hirosho and his friends weren't Force-sensitive and they weren't armed.

The slaughter made me feel nauseous, as did the unruffled expression on The Sith's face when she returned to the holocall. She said nothing, merely stood there, an evil malignance until Master Karr spoke. "That was an excessive display," he said slowly.

"Excessive? If you wanted a show of excess, Master Karr, you should have said so. I would have happily obliged."

If that wasn't excessive, I'd hate to see her idea of what is...

Master Karr ran over the callous words. "Those men were defenseless and unarmed..."

"And you left them that way,"The Sith responded viciously. "Knowing that no Sith ever spared a life because a Jedi requested it. You left them vulnerable and unprotected, knowing that no Sith could afford to leave such an observation post intact, leave the crew alive because they might know something that could inconvenience said Sith later. You put them in an ugly position, Master Karr, knowing exactly how this must play out. Was their sacrifice worth it? Can you sleep with it on your soul?"

My guts tightened at this very valid point. No one expects mercy from a Sith but I never expected a Sith to have a sense of pragmatism. Just bloodlust.

"That a Sith should speak of consciences and souls proves the weakness of your position," Master Karr retorted grimly. "And your sad attempt to deflect responsibility troubles me little: I shall honor Hirosho and his men's lives by dedicating myself to thwarting you and your master."

I blinked several times. For a moment, there was a roughness in Master Karr's voice I'd never heard there before.

"You sound very passionate about the matter...angry, even," The Sith said softly.

I found myself agreeing with her. I'd never heard that tone in Master Karr's voice...and the thought that a mere Sith apprentice could bring it out...

"I have long been prepared for the possibility of my operation being discovered."

I opened my mouth, but shut it again. He...expected something like this? And didn't prepare for it? Unease crept into me like a bad smell coming out of a refrigeration unit: she'd said as much, The Sith, that Master Karr had used those men to his advantage without giving proper thought to their safety and protection. He'd condemned them from the moment he put them on the task of observing The Sith.

I felt sicker, but for a new reason.

"It calms me to know that you and Darth Baras have no idea what you're up against."

Fear seized me, like a cold hand clenching around my stomach. For a moment, I thought Master Karr might insert me into the conversation.

The Sith saved him the trouble. "Ah, yes, your little rabbit. Is she here? Is she listening?"

Little rabbit?! I glared at The Sith. Little rabbit, indeed.

"No, but your gift for conversation has been your undoing." Master Karr motioned her to turn around, which she did. Her Imperial soldier moved swiftly to one side, but he didn't draw his blaster. In fact, he seemed to resonate readiness, as if he had something up his sleeve...

...which, I realized, might very well be a literal thing.

"These men are among the Republic's finest. Go with them peacefully and the Jedi Council will take that into consideration."

"You wanted a show of excess, Master Karr?" The Sith asked, as though offering him tea. A hint of a laugh, almost coquettish, tinged her voice. "You shall have it."

"Men, take the Sith—" Master Karr didn't get any further.

I clamped both hands over my mouth to stifle the cry that tried to tear itself loose from my throat. The Sith suddenly made a leap in the direction of the soldiers sent to detain her, her Imperial moving out of capture range, but not before I understood what had happened in that first strike: she'd struck one of the Republic soldiers and he had ensured that that soldier couldn't do anything by sending a spray of carbonite at him from a wrist unit.

I know a thing or two about carbonite projectors: they don't work well if a target is moving around, but disabled...well, that would leave the poor soldier defenseless, to be dispatched of when the Imperial or The Sith could do so safely.

It was horrible to listen to: blaster fire, screams, and shouts from both sides seemed to go on forever. I recoiled from it, certain that The Sith was as good as her word. When Master Karr went to investigate the station he would find a true massacre, defaced bodies, and little else.

Everything went silent, then The Sith and her companion reappeared. He looked immaculate—which was exceptionally disconcerting, considering he'd just been in a life-or-death fight.

The Sith, on the other hand, looked...breathtaking, I suppose. She seemed irradiated, as if hooked up to a powerful generator. Energy seemed to crackle about her, and a wild abandon danced in her eyes. She was dripping in sweat, her whole body heaving as she breathed; she sported a burn or two, but otherwise seemed unharmed...and unhampered by her injuries.

She was victory in combat personified.

She walked over to the console, fiddled with it, and abruptly the capture range of the holoterminal expanded.

I looked away: even the color-stealing blue couldn't make the severed limbs, the huddled body parts, the carbon scoring, and the flickering remains of sensor equipment any less shocking. It looked, in that brief glimpse, as if she'd torn the room apart with the strength of the truly insane. And yet...when I ventured to glance back at her, she seemed wholly the master. Of herself. Of the carnage she'd wrought. Of everything.

Was it wrong to want to know how she did it? How she could be caught in the rush and yet still be so...anchored?

"I see Darth Baras has found himself a singularly vicious weapon in you," Master Karr said, his voice hard. "This experience has given me valuable insight. I'll be prepared the next time we meet, Sith."

"Yes," The Sith answered, her voice breathy but sturdy as she brought herself from active combat to simple readiness for combat. "But will she be?" She cut the transmission, leaving Master Karr and I alone in silence.

I don't know if she knew I was there to hear the threat—because it was a threat—or if she said it simply to unnerve Master Karr...or maybe she didn't care either way, so long as she had the last word. It didn't matter: I heard it, and I recoiled from it. Master Karr didn't matter to her—he was Darth Baras' enemy. I mattered; I was her target.

I remembered the furious leap that took her out of sight, the way she looked as she returned after the combat. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to be afraid...and failing spectacularly.

"Calm yourself, Jaesa," Master Karr declared sternly. "The Sith knows nothing. Otherwise, she would have identified you, to show how much she knew."

The question was insidious, and I couldn't stamp it out, even if I didn't ask it: Master...do you know her name? "Of course, Master," I managed, trying not to feel the prickle along my backbone, to ignore the cold sweat beading on my skin, making me feel clammy all over.

This Sith terrifies me in a way no Sith should. I am a Jedi...there is no fear...

...maybe if I run through the Code a few more times I'll stop feeling it. Because it is there.