Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs exclusively to Mr. George Lucas, however Mage and Hektor are all mine! YES!
Note from the author: Ok, so the idea isn't all that original, and I'm sure that it doesn't really fit with all the wonderful Star Wars facts, but dang I'm having fun writing this. If you have any ideas or suggestions please feel free to let me know. And don't forget t review...please....? No, really... please.
As It Was...As It Is
Al Starkey
She stood by the bar door, cigarette in hand. Loud noises could be heard from behind the wall at her back. Roundy arguments and drunken singing echoed in the tight space adding to the usual din. She ignored it coolly, face hidden as always, pointed shoulders slightly slumped. The thick smoke of her cigarette lifted off to mingle with the late night mist.
Out of the shadows of the dark road a man approached, tall and muscular looking behind his long tan cloak. He paused at the door, seeming to hesitate.
After a long moment he looked down at Mage and spoke in a deep voice,
lightly accented. "Good eve M'Lady"
She looked up sharply, ready to throw out an angry retort and tell him to leave her alone. But as soon as she glimpsed his face she was taken in by the air of calm control that seem to hang about this strange man's whole being. His eyes were a light blue, seeming to take in light at every angle. She felt drawn into those orbs, searching them carefully. Something about it...something hidden and yet so open seemed to carry laugher. His whole countenance was filled with strength and power, yet he seemed so meek and serious. If it weren't for those eyes one might thing he was totally devoid of emotion.. Realizing she was staring she quickly tried to hide her awkwardness by mumbling a gruff and inaudible reply .
He simply leaned in close, a silent inclination that he had not heard her, and waited , hands held patiently inside the folds of his robe.
Growling, Mage snapped up at him, her lips curling up into a forced sneer, "what do you want?"
"Want, M'Lady?" He reeked with politeness, perfectly relaxed and yet so... controlled. "I see you are one of business. A smart woman. Alright then. I seek a mistress to serve. Many people nearby have mentioned that you are a trained warrior of the dark forces. I too practice the ways of the force and wish too offer myself as a servant for whatever needs you see fit."
The monstrous ego of Mage flared brightly at his words. Servants were not unheard of in the area, however only those who were in high command or had much money were able to get them. No one had ever offered themselves to her before and it gave her a strange, yet glorious, sense of power. Glowering at him she took a moment to think, trying to sort things through. It was her nature to be suspicious, however she found it oddly difficult to think. Grasping hold of some sense of reality she pulled out a reasonable sounding question. "What is your name?"
He smiled ever so slightly, an strangely perfect smile that seemed to add to the amusement in his eyes. However it was easily disregarded as simple respect. The mysterious man lowered his eyes in a sign of submission, "My name is Hektor T'Lain, son of Maynar T'Lain of Menthor, planate of slaves."
Menthor, she knew well that name. A place where men were brought up to serve explicitly. People who came from the land were considered the most valuable servants, unselfish and abiding to every order. It was said that they actually enjoyed being mastered over and devoted their lives to the practice.
It could, of course be a lie. She frowned thoughtfully and decided that there was really only one way to find out. Reaching forward with the force Mage used her bit of skill to pick up any emotional patterns drifting from him. The readings were rather unusual. He didn't seem to be blocking anything, and yet somehow it seemed....incomplete. However this small concern was suddenly cast to the wind as she hit upon a new channel of awareness. Power seemed to pump through her body from some sort of channel flowing from him. The overwhelming sense that he wanted to be controlled. Yes, that was it, control....he wanted her to control him. It was so easy... The feelings were like an intoxicating drug invading her mind, the unimaginable joy of complete dominance. It blocked her thoughts and drove away every doubt and care except that one will to rule.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" His voice drove through her thoughts, tugging her back out of the pit of concentration. Opening her eyes, which she had unconsciously closed during the search, she found that he was leaning close to her, a look of concern on his face. She looked closely at him, wondering if he knew she was prodding his mind. It was hard to tell.
Waving him away with a slight movement of her bony fingers she tried to look as annoyed as possible, "I'm perfectly fine. I was...meditating." Quickly changing the subject she stood back and squared her shoulders trying to look a bit taller then her five foot one frame allowed. "I have made my decision. I will allow you to serve for a few days trial."
Hektor opened his mouth to thank her, but Mage quickly interrupted, speaking sharply, "and don't expect any favors from me. You do what I say, got it? You make a mistake and your out."
He bowed lightly from the waist, "Yes Mistress."
"Good, then get me a drink, something strong., and I want it now."
"As you wish," He turned, and, after bowing shortly from the waist, slipped behind the swinging doors into the row within.
As soon as the man was gone Mage smirked, silently congratulating herself on the catch. He might just be enough to keep her out of trouble, and if she played her cards right it could also be a lot of fun. All she had to do was keep him convinced of her power, and make sure he knew who was boss. It couldn't be too hard. The stranger seemed more then willing to place himself fully under her will. No strings attached. This was going to be marvelous.