Chapter 4

AN: The story continues. Told you I'd publish this soon. Thanks, Cinlat, for betaing this and giving advice on the concussion.

Mandoa word:

Shabuir: Extreme insult. Like 'jerk,' but stronger.

Kadral cursed his stupidity and lack of awareness as the world spun around him. He watched Vemrin stalk forward, energized warblade crackling in hand. The acolyte's mouth was moving, but Kadral could only make out a few words- something about, "Waiting for this moment," and "Baras will finally see who is superior." The Mandalorian would have rolled his eyes if he'd trusted vision. The man was monologuing. To add injury to insult, Kadral could barely stand, much less shut the shabuir up. Hoping the dizziness would wear off soon, Kadral brought his blade into a guard position, the quality of his stance born from reflex, instead of conscious thought. The fear of death, a familiar friend, entered Kadral's mind for the first time since entering the tombs. Vemrin was an incredibly talented bladesman. His skill was often touted at the academy, and Kadral had seen enough matches to know that very little of it was exaggerated. With his armor and superior weapon, Kadral thought he could take him in a normal situation, but Vemrin had been unexpectedly cunning, stooping to what many Sith would consider an "uncivilized" weapon to give him the advantage.

Vemrin's face lost its sneer when he finished talking, settling into a hard look that told Kadral any hope of his enemy underestimating him would be for naught. Vemrin leapt forward, his warblade flashing as Kadral adjusted his beskad to block the blow that never came. The acolyte's expression changed mid-air when an emerald beam of plasma ripped through his chest, redirecting the man's trajectory so that he landed in a crumpled and very dead heap beside Kadral. The confused Mandalorian looked over at Vette, who was lowering a still-smoking blaster. All Kadral managed was a weak, "Thanks," before the adrenaline once again drained from his system, and he collapsed unconscious beside Vemrin.

Vette started forward as her companion fell to the ground when a thought occurred to her. She was free. There was nothing keeping her from escaping from the tombs and smuggling herself onto the next transport far away from this hellhole. She had everything she came for. Thanks to him, she thought, cursing the treacherous voice in the back of her mind. Despite her bluster, Vette knew that there was no way she would have made it to her prize without Kadral's help. She had repaid him by saving his life, but leaving him here in his current state would simply condemn the man to death again. She was better than that. Kadral had sworn to take the necklace to her friends, and Vette felt she could trust his promise.

Walking over to her fallen friend, Vette opened the compartment on his pack that he had taken the kolto patch from. After a bit of searching, she found a vial of smelling salts and a small flashlight. Once she closed the compartment, Vette began struggling to roll the Mandalorian over. His armor felt like it had doubled his weight, but she eventually managed. Reaching under his helmet, Vette found a clasp that, with some fiddling, she managed to release. She pulled off the helmet, which fortunately contained no vomit, and waved the vial under his nose. Kadral's breathing increased rapidly, and soon he began stirring. His eyes fluttered open in time for Vette to blind him with the flashlight. To her relief, the pupils were dilating correctly.

The sharp burn of ammonia assaulted Kadral's senses, and blackness became a blinding white. He scrunched his eyes closed until the burning light went away. When he peeked out again, a blur of blue focused into the concerned face of Vette. Vette his slave. Kadral knew that there was no other word for how he had treated the Twi'lek. He had been a benevolent master, but he had been a master nonetheless. Kadral had been mentally comparing the Sith way and Mandalorian ways, but the answer was before him now. Vemrin's corpse lay at Kadral's side, his death at the hand of the same Twi'lek who had revived her master, even though she had every right to leave him to die. The Sith way was of lonely dominance, while Mandalorians depended on the strength of many. The latter was clearly superior. As the last levee dropped in his mind, a wave of guilt washed over him. "Take the collar off," he told Vette, or tried to. In his current state, all he could offer was a meaningless mumbling, but the relief on Vette's face was perfectly clear. Kadral worked his jaw a bit and tried again. "Take that damned collar off."

After hours of stoic grumpiness, Kadral's sudden passion caught Vette off guard. "Do what?" she asked, worried that his odd behavior after a head injury might indicate a problem after all, even though she was happy to hear that at least some part of his brain didn't like the collar any more than she did. Vette noticed that Kadral was trying to sit up, and offered her hand to pull him into an upright position. Kadral was silent for a minute before he spoke up again. "I-I've been thinking for a while. I had no right to put you in that blasted thing. It goes against everything I claim to stand for. I don't- I don't want to end up like him," Kadral weakly gestured towards Vemrin's body. "The people who served him did so out of fear. Most of them would have never saved his life. I don't know why you saved mine.

"Take the collar off," he repeated for the third time. "Not because you saved my life, but because you never should have worn it in the first place. Sith opinion shouldn't be what I care about."

"Th- Thank you," Vette stammered, shocked by his words. She wasn't going to complain, though. Instead, she pulled out the remote and used it to remove the cursed device from her neck. When Vette turned her attention back to Kadral, the young Sith was trying to stand up. "Nuh-uh," she ordered, pushing him back down. "You need to rest for a bit. If some bugs come, then we'll take care of them. Otherwise, you're taking it easy. Baras can wait."

Kadral reluctantly braced his back against a wall, stretching his legs in front of him with a sigh. "Baras." He spoke the word like it had spoiled. "I don't know what I'm going to do about him. He didn't technically give you to me. I think you're just on loan." The Mandalorian was quiet for a moment. "What do you think it'd cost to buy you? I'm not exactly sure what the going rate on slaves are, only that slaver camps tend to have a fair number of credits."

"Pleasure slaves aren't cheap," Vette murmured, the thought of having to go back into captivity after tasting freedom again was torture. Though, Kadral's naive willingness to buy her was a nice gesture. "I'd probably go for 120,000 credits. If you're clever, you might be able to knock the price down to 100 grand."

"Twelve Krill? I can do that," Kadral answered without hesitation, though his face probably betrayed his surprise at such a large number. Kadral knew that he'd probably be spending the last of the bounty money he'd saved up, and had to push back the natural sting that came with the thought of paying so many credits. He owed this to Vette for saving his life. Perhaps selfishly, he also hoped that Vette would travel with him if he could find a way to employ her as a mercenary. Kadral had enjoyed his short stint with the Twi'lek more than the cumulative time spent with any other acolyte in the academy and was beginning to feel a connection, one he knew was worth such an investment.

"You'd do that for me?" Vette spluttered in shock. "But… why?"

"You saved my life, for one. That's not something I take lightly," Kadral pointed out. "And I enjoy your company. Regardless of what you do when I free you, I'd like to stay in touch, if you don't mind."

"I wouldn't mind staying in touch," Vette admitted. "But why me? I'm nothing special."

"You're special to me," Kadral countered. At Vette's odd look, he gave an awkward cough and clarified, "That sounded different from how I intended. I meant that I haven't really met anyone else like you, and wouldn't mind getting to know you better."

Vette blushed, but didn't reply. Instead, she changed the subject. "How's your head doing?"

"Better," Kadral answered. "It still hurts, but sitting here won't do anything about it."

After making sure they had gathered their packs and scattered gear, the duo headed towards the exit. Their return trip was unhindered, though they both noticed that the statues they passed on the way out were suspiciously devoid of droid parts. When they finally made it to the exit, Kadral booted up the speeder's pilot droid, and they headed back toward the academy. This time, the hour of travel had a much lighter atmosphere.

"So, where did you get so many credits?" Vette queried. Most people would be very lucky to earn what she was worth in two years.

"A friend of mine and I were bounty hunters for a while before I joined the Sith," Kadral explained. "People are worth a lot alive, but dead pays well, too."

"That's… one way to earn a living," Vette replied, glancing uneasily out over the terrain as they passed.

Noticing her wary tone, Kadral clarified. "I do have standards, you know. Often, a mark's value and how much he deserves death go hand in hand."

"I guess you might have a point," Vette conceded. She knew that the highest bounties were usually put on the worst scum, and had even collected a few creds on a slaver who had angered the local crime boss. That said, she was unsure of how she felt about him killing for a living, but such a discussion could be saved for later. "Still, how'd a young guy like you get those big bounties?"

"My mom keeps the books for my dad, and she would often send my friend and I bounties she knew that we could handle. Ration bar?" Kadral paused to wave a ration bar at Vette after digging through his pack. With all of the excitement in the tomb, she'd forgotten to eat, but now her stomachs were viciously complaining. The Twi'lek devoured her bar before Kadral could take his wrapper off. Still unsated, she explored her own pack until she found another bar, which she also scarfed with gusto.

Eventually, the speeder made it back to the academy. Kadral triumphantly headed towards Lord Baras's office, Vette keeping close pace behind him. As he approached his destination with Darth Nalot's lightsaber in hand, a woman he recognized as Overseer Tremmel's daughter confronted him.

"Murderer!" Eskella accused, extending her warblade in a sign of challenge. "My father was unorthodox in his methods, and he was especially hard on me, but he was my blood. Did you think you could kill him and get away with it?"

"And where did you hear this?" Kadral responded, hoping to diffuse the situation. The fact that Tremmel's blood was on his hands had plagued him continuously, and he didn't want to have to kill his daughter as well.

"It's no secret that Lord Baras ordered you to do it!" she exclaimed.

"Then why don't you take it up with Baras?" Kadral suggested. His tone softened, "I didn't want to kill your father. He was a great man."

"Yet that didn't stay your hand. DIE, YOU SON OF A HUTT!" Eskella leapt forward, igniting her war blade. Training took over, and Kadral met her attack with Nalot's now activated saber. It was Kadral's skill versus Eskella's raw emotion, which was fueling her connection to the Dark Side.

Time stretched as the two traded blows for, until Eskella made a critical mistake. She paid for it with the loss of her hand. A split second later, a slash across the woman's chest ended the fight for good. Kadral's shoulders sagged as he shut off his lightsaber. Orderlies who had been attracted by the sound of fighting took the body away as if it were just another normal day.

Kadral's helmet tilted in Vette's direct as she approached. "I didn't want to kill her," he said over their private channel, though Vette wasn't sure who he was talking to. "I could have ended the fight when I cut off her hand, but I've seen that look too many times here. I knew she'd keep hunting me until one of us was dead." He sighed, visibly shouldering the burden of death. "That doesn't make me feel much better, though."

Vette put her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to offer any comfort she could. The armor plating kept Kadral from feeling her touch, but did nothing to soften the intent of her gesture. Reluctantly, the acolyte continued towards Lord Baras's office. "Come on, let's finish this."

When Kadral opened the door, he found Darth Baras facing away from him, staring out the window at the barren wasteland. "I see that you survived Vemrin's ambush." The Sith Lord spoke before turning. "Well done."

The false eyes of his mask seemed to stare into Kadral's soul, but he fought down the feeling of uneasiness he knew it was designed to give. "Tell me. What is the Sith Code?"

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion," Kadral, began. "Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me."

'Very good," Baras nodded, the lilt of his voice conveying approval even if the mask hid the man's features. "Through your passion, you achieved victory over your opponent. Show me the lightsaber of Darth Nalot."

Kadral flipped the cylinder and extended it hilt-first to Baras. Baras inspected the weapon, before igniting it to admire the crimson blade. "You have done well." The words came out as a self-satisfied sigh. As if Kadral's victory had been Baras's doing all along. "You proved that you are the best student here, and are worthy to become my apprentice. You shall be my Fist, and shall execute my will upon the galaxy."

The emotionless mask Baras had chosen for his visage jerked up to meet Kadral's. "Board the next transport to Dromund Kaas, where you will begin your training under me. And, in congratulations for your new position, I give you the Twi'lek slave. You may do with her as you see fit." Baras deactivated the blade and turned his back on Kadral. "Now leave, I have matters to attend to before I meet you on Dromund Kaas."

Kadral turned and left Baras's chambers, Vette following close behind. "Well he's creepy," the Twi'lek whispered over the comm when they were out of sight.

"And he's also apparently my master," Kadral noted. He had known this would happen, but still wasn't sure what to make of the situation.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Vette asked, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of Baras's office.

"I don't know yet," Kadral replied after a pause, his tone thoughtful. "I suppose from the perspective of a bounty hunter, it just means I'm now an enforcer, which can actually be a pretty nice job if you have a good employer."

The daily shuttle had already left, so Kadral suggested retiring back to his quarters for the evening. The new apprentice was too exhausted from to cook anything particularly good, so they resorted to boxed pasta.

"Same plan with the showers?" Vette asked.

"Go ahead," Kadral told her as he put the water on to boil. While he waited, he pulled out a datapad and sent a message to his family. He didn't share too many details, just a bit about Vette, his new apprenticeship, and that he was headed to Dromund Kaas in the morning. Soon after he hit the send button, he heard the water start to boil.

Kadral sensed Vette emerge from the bathroom just before the dish was finished. "Everything will just take a few more minutes to cook," Kadral informed her. When he turned around, he saw that she had changed out of her expedition outfit into a nice, comfortable shirt and pair of shorts that accented her figure rather well. Partially to keep the noodles from sticking, but mostly to avoid staring, Kadral returned his attention back to the pot and started stirring.

"It's nice to get out of that heavy armor and into something way more comfortable," Vette commented, stretching to demonstrate her regained mobility.

"You do know that officer gave you the lightest armor she had, right?" Kadral said with a smile. Though he kept his back to the Twi'lek, he was aware of her movement around the room.

"Yeah, well, I just haven't had time to get used to it," Vette retorted, walking over to him.

"I saw that gouge on the back of your breastplate. Told you armor saves lives," Kadral knocked on his chest plate for emphasis.

"Yeah, though I wish it was lighter. I probably would have dodged that slash had the weight not thrown me off balance." Vette peered into the pot from over Kadral's shoulder and inhaled deeply. "Mmmm. That smells good."

"Just boxed pasta. Nothing special," Kadral shrugged, trying to ignore the way Vette encroached on his personal space, and avoided thinking about why it mattered.

"I'm still looking forward to eating it." As if to punctuate her statement, the timer beeped. Kadral picked up the pot and moved it over to a pair of plates that he had set out, then spooned them both a serving. They sat down to eat and, once again, Vette finished her serving almost twice as fast as Kadral. When the cook found her staring hopefully at the pot, he motioned her to dig in.

"Don't worry, I made two boxes. This is all I'll need, and what you don't eat-" Kadral didn't finish as he saw Vette spoon the rest of the pasta onto her plate. "Eh, nevermind."

After they had finished eating and put their dishes in the washer, they sat down on the couch to discuss their plans for the next day.

"Okay. So, the shuttle leaves at 13:00. That means, after breakfast tomorrow, we need to start packing up. Well," Kadral suddenly realized Vette had nothing but her clothes and blasters, "Well, I need to start packing up. After that, it's off to Dromund Kaas."

Vette fidgeted beside him, chewing her lip nervously. "So, what will I do? I guess I can try to find a way to Nar Shaddaa, but I don't have much to help me get there."

Kadral was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to phrase his next question. He decided to go with the direct route. "Would you be interested in working for me?"

"I-I don't know. What would I do? I doubt you'll be exploring ruins for a while." The Twi'lek kept her gaze averted while she spoke.

"I hope not. I hate places like that." Kadral shivered at the thought. "No, I mean as a mercenary. You're pretty good with those guns. I don't know what Baras will have me do, but I'm sure it'll be in my best interest to have a skilled fighter at my back. I can offer you good pay and the protection of a Sith apprentice. Whatever good that last bit is," he added in response to Vette's dubious expression. "And, I'd make sure we went to Nar Shaddaa as soon as possible."

"Let me think about that," Vette said carefully, mulling the options and possibilities over in her mind. "I'll let you know as soon as I can."

"Take your time," Kadral reassured her. We have a hyperspace journey ahead of us that'll probably take a while. I just need to know your decision by the time we make it to Dromund Kaas.

"I'll know by then." Vette yawned, then blinked sleepily at him. "I know it's a bit early, but all those fights today have me exhausted. I'm going to get some shut-eye."

"I still need to take a shower, but then I'll do the same." Kadral stood up, grabbed a bundle of clothes, and headed into the refresher. When he emerged, smelling significantly better, he saw that the lights were already off, and Vette was lying on the couch.

"You just got a concussion. You need a good night of sleep on a proper bed," came Vette's voice from the darkness, surprising Kadral by breaking the silence. "Not to mention, if I'm going to keep an eye on you, the couch is the best place to make sure I wake up."

"Keep an eye on me?" Kadral asked, lifting an eyebrow in a playful challenge.

"Yep." Vette stretched, then linked her finger beneath her lekku. "I read somewhere that you have to wake people who took a blow to the head up during the night. Last think I need is abrain-damagedd master."

"Very well," Kadral acquiesced as he slipped into bed with a smile. He drifted to sleep soon after, Vette's warning echoing in the back of his mind.

Kadral awoke the next morning to the sound of sizzling eggs, and the mouth-watering aroma of nerf sausages. He looked over, and saw Vette moving the sausages around in a skillet. Part of him wanted to be annoyed with the Twi'lek for making good on her threat. Every two hours, he'd woken to find Vette hoving above his face, poking at him to see if he'd wake up. Still, Kadral figured breakfast might make up for it, especially the way his stomach growled.

It took Kadral a while to realize that he was staring, at which point he shook the sleep from his head and threw off the covers. Vette must have somehow heard the sound of rustling fabric, because she turned to look at him, her face lighting up with a smile.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she sang. "That concussion must have taken a lot out of you. It's already ten."

Kadral's eyes widened. "Kriff!" he exclaimed, and jumped up. He wondered at what point Vette had decided he was clear of brain damage and stopped waking him up.

"Don't worry, you have time. I'll help you pack," Vette reassured him. "But first, dig in." She gestured to the plate of sausages on the table. "It's no herder's breakfast, but it's still good."

Kadral bit into one of the sausages, and barely managed to choke it down. "Indeed it is... good. Thank you. It's as good as my mother's." His last statement was completely true.

After breakfast, the two began packing Kadral's belongings. His wardrobe was fairly small, containing mostly jumpsuits to wear under his armor. It was all his gear that took so long. Fortunately, most of it was in lockboxes that they just had to consolidate onto a hover trolley, but some of the more frequently used things were scattered across the room, along with a substantial amount of high-quality, anti-spy gear. Vette found his redundant array of sound dampening fields and jammers impressive. "You've got enough here to put most SIS agents to shame."

"What can I say? My mom raised me to be paranoid," Kadral justified with a shrug as he closed the lid on the lockbox he had stored them in. It was the last thing to pack, and, after a thorough search of the room to confirm he hadn't forgotten anything, the two headed toward the shuttle platform. Even with the relatively short travel distance, they arrived just in time to load up the trolley and get in. Once they reached Korriban's orbital station, they transferred onto a transport cruiser and into the next chapter of their lives.