Alderaan, Wilderness, 6 BEA
"Andronikos?"
"Hm?"
"Do you snore?"
Raven watched as the former captain stopped cleaning his blasters, tilted his head, and gave her a wry little smile. Night was coming, fast, and with it the cold of Alderaan's early spring, but that didn't worry the young Sith; with their thermosilk sleeping bags and Hoth-tested heating cubes, they could have survived camping in a snowdrift. In comparison, their little mountain cave deep in the Juran Mountains was downright cosy. Her Dashade wouldn't have appreciated the scenery, the inquisitor thought, but Khem was guarding the ship again. None of them wanted to rely on House Thul's security forces when it came to their Fury starship.
"Having second thoughts about spending the night in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but a mannerless pirate for company?"
Chuckling, Raven shook her head. "Not really, no. Besides, you weren't that bad on Tatooine. Or did you actively try to make a good impression back then, to make me more agreeable on taking you with me?"
"Guilty as charged. I even used a fork. And a spoon!"
Now Andronikos was laughing, too.
"But seriously, Sith, we spent more than two weeks running through the Dune Sea, and the tents weren't exactly soundproof. You suffering from partial amnesia, too, or is it another symptom of your persistent 'let us help everybody' attitude?"
The inquisitor blushed slightly. "The killiks were a valid concern, and should I have allowed those Rist strike teams to poison whomever they were after? And the young thranta with its broken wing… flipper… whatever…"
Her companion threw his hands up in surrender. "It wasn't meant as dispraise. Those jobs paid very well, with the exception of that flying beast."
"But it was cute." The young Sith frowned slightly, as she tried to remember where their conversation had started. "The snoring, though… I heard something on Tatooine, but wasn't sure if it was you, or one of the banthas."
"Well, thanks for the compliment." Andronikos lifted his eyebrows. "Pirate, sharpshooter, thief, liar and desert cow imitator, at your service. But no, as far as I know, I don't. Casey never complained, at least."
He looked away, and into the distance. Raven followed his gaze, over mountain tops and rain clouds, and knew that her companion was seeing pictures from the past instead.
"You might still be able to fix things between the two of you", she suggested, gently. "You parted on good terms, and the way she was talking about you…"
The pirate moved slightly, but the Sith wasn't sure if it was a twitch, or a shrug. "It was difficult even before the mutiny. Blast it, it was always difficult, right from the start. Cursing and throwing things and all that… I wasn't kidding, you know? Someone was bound to get hurt in the long run."
Revel sighed, and shook his head. "Perhaps some day, when we've become older, and hopefully wiser. Until then, you and I still have an artefact to find. But while we are busy discussing private lives – what about you? Didn't you want to try your luck with that oh-so-friendly Urtel guy? Don't suppose you and that Dashade are an item, right?"
Raven had tried to drink something from her water bottle, while the pirate spoke – 'tried' being the operative word. The mouthful of water landed everywhere but in her stomach, and she coughed until she was afraid that her whole lung might come up.
"That was a joke, right? With Khem, I mean? And this Sith guy…" The inquisitor shuddered, as she remembered the conversations in House Thul. Lady Elana Thul had been pleasant enough, but Urtel Moren had made her flesh creep. And not in any enjoyable way.
"He simply scared me. Did you look at his eyes? At his age, he has to be either really, really strong in the dark side of the Force to achieve such a shade of orange, or somebody with truly nasty habits. And I'm telling you, from what I felt through the Force, he isn't Darth material at all. He probably likes to skin kittens, though. Each time he looked at me, I was wondering whether he wanted to go rope skipping with my intestines."
Andronikos scratched his head. "It seemed to me as if Urtel was simply hitting on you."
With that image before her eyes, Raven cringed in earnest.
"Great. So first he plans to seduce me, and then to turn my limbs into gym equipment? I'll never set foot into this palace again."
She heard a quiet chuckle.
"Seems to me that Sith business is always weird business. Suppose you were right, though, Sith – Casey and I never actively tried to kill each other. That should count for something, at least."
Alderaan's sun had disappeared during their conversation, and the last hints of colour vanished behind more dark clouds. Raven was glad that the little hideout was rainproof. The sharpshooter and the assassin ate a late dinner and then got comfortable under their respective blankets, while their trusty pack animal, a nerf borrowed from House Thul, ruminated in the sheltered entrance to the cave.
If the light hadn't hinted that it was well past sunrise again, Raven could have sworn that she had just closed her eyes. Andronikos was already on his feet, though, and cursing. Loudly. Which was likely the reason that she'd woken up.
"Permission to shoot that spawn of a sewer on Hutta, Sith?"
It was entirely too early for Raven's brain to make sense of any of this.
"Hruua-wha?" she half-yawned, half-asked, and blinked, greeting the new day with very little enthusiasm.
"It's this blasted cross between a shaggy blanket and a garbage dump."
Shaggy blanket and garbage… Oh.
"You mean Fluffy? What's wrong?"
Andronikos turned, and a mix of fury, outrage, and reluctant amusement was visible on his face as he pointed at the nerf, which was laying comfortably in the drying grass and looked very content with itself and everything around it.
"Your dear hairy friend here ate our entire stock of rations during the night."
Alderaan, House Rist, 6 BEA
"Can I offer you another drink, my dear?"
Raven burped softly, and promptly blushed. "No, thanks. But if you've got more of those pastries… Those are really delicious!"
Rehanna smiled, and suddenly seemed to be at least ten years younger. Another tablet appeared out of nowhere, and the Sith took it for what it was – a challenge. Andronikos, on the other hand, opted for the drink. Whatever that liquid was which Lady Rist passed him, it made Raven's nose hairs melt.
"Corellian brandy, more than 40 years old. It was meant for the wedding, but as you are now aware, that never really happened. Stupid man…"
The old assassin helped herself to a generous drink, too, and chowed down one of the pastries as well.
"Damned right stupid! He never deserved you." The pirate's speech was still quite articulate for the number of glasses he'd already emptied, but his opinion of Lady Rist had risen with every sip.
"Kind of you to say, Mr. Revel, but you are a little too young for my taste."
Rehanna stared into her own glass for one moment, then looked up again and held Raven's gaze effortlessly.
"But let me sum this up again. You come here, knock out my guards, then talk to me about old times… And now you suggest that I call Nomar Organa here, to our old meeting place, so I can get closure, and you can plant a tracker onto him to somehow follow that high-and-mighty Jedi-ness and steal a kind of artefact from him? Without hurting him?"
She shook her head, and emptied her drink. "No. Still doesn't make more sense. Why would you even tell me all this? Don't get me wrong, I'm inclined to believe you. I have survived Alderaanian politics for nearly half a century now, and can usually tell if somebody is lying. It's just madness to simply come here and admit all this, freely."
Raven tilted her head and watched the noble, while angling for another biscuit. "Well, I would have come for the food, too, had I known about your skills in baking. Besides, it worked, didn't it? You already agreed, and I don't think you're lying, either."
Rehanna snorted, a decidedly unladylike sound. "Can't deny that you are right, but it still doesn't make any sense at all."
The young Sith watched as Lady Risk looked at the pirate, while Andronikos only shrugged.
"Don't ask me how she survived this long", he answered the unspoken question. "From what I have seen, she's always like that. I'd guess that her parents were saints, or animal shelter activists… It's like the whole galaxy is so embarrassed by her strange behaviour, that even the most hardened killer would rather invite her for dinner than slit her throat. Similar to watching a space accident, just with less blood – you can't help but watch and try to guess what crazy thing she's going to do next. And you're likely to guess wrong, because she always finds something more insane than you could ever have imagined."
Even with her stomach full of cake, Raven's indignation rose.
"In case you forgot, I'm sitting right here", she complained, but couldn't really bring herself to rise her voice. Andronikos, in turn, only laughed.
"Sure I know, that's why I'm saying it", he answered, and grasped at another pastry.
Alderaan, Elysium's Shuttle Pad, 6 BEA
"Did it ever occur to you that Lady Rist could just have tried to poison us?"
Raven frowned slightly as she departed the small vehicle; she sensed Jedi nearby, quite a lot of them, and tried to calm down her emotions to hide her presence. Two vaults, two objectives, but only one key – the young Sith really hoped that her training in security and slicing, which she had started what felt like an eternity ago with the Chiss, was up to the challenge.
Well, if not, there was always lightning. Those walls couldn't be completely Force proof, after all.
Urtel hadn't been, either. The inquisitor vividly remembered the picture of his broken body in the Organa Jedi stronghold. She'd been too late to save Lady Thul's Sith team, but she'd stopped the Jedi from threatening her allies ever again. And so Elana had rewarded her service with the key to her very own vault in the Elysium.
Trying to banish these thoughts, Raven concentrated on Andronikos' question.
"My data pad's sensors were scanning all the time", she answered. "And I didn't feel deceit from her. But it may have been a little naive, yes. Still, it worked."
The inquisitor shook her head as she recalled listening in to Rehanna's conversation with Jedi Nomar Organa from the shadows. She still wondered how he'd managed to slip past the armada of killiks without getting eaten. Lady Rist and herself could sidestep the bugs in their sleep, but that Jedi had been a knight, not a consular. Subtlety wasn't one of his strengths. Neither was reliability, honesty, or anything else of the things Raven usually associated with the warriors of the light. And his very voice and self-righteousness had gotten under her skin.
"I wonder if he understood all the words and idioms she was using. The Huttese curses were probably too difficult for him… Anyway, I think he finally got the idea that he did upset the lady quite a bit back then, 23 years ago."
The inquisitor smiled. "And she even made him check on the artefact, without raising his suspicions. Never underestimate an old assassin…"
Next to her, the pirate chuckled.
"I don't know", he answered, "I wouldn't underestimate a young assassin, either."
Alderaan, Elysium Vaults, 6 BEA
Another keystroke, and the console's lights turned green. Breathing in relief, Raven straightened again, just to notice that Andronikos was frowning.
"Almost too easy, don't you think, Sith? If this is the high-security treasury of the whole blasted planet, shouldn't their encryption protocols offer at least a minimum of resistance?"
The young Sith scratched her head. "Come on, I needed more than five minutes to crack this thing. That's more than 'minimum resistance', I'd say. Besides, don't look a borrowed bantha into the mouth."
The two companions entered the vault, turned around a corner, and stopped dead in their tracks. A figure blocked their path. Brown hair, brown eyes. Brown Jedi robes. And a posture that spoke of thinly-veiled arrogance.
Nomar Organa.
"Surprised to find me here, Sith? Don't be."
Raven clenched her teeth – the Jedi's voice was still as insufferably snobbish as before. Behind her, she heard a snort.
"Typical. Next time, Sith, I am going to scan and x-ray all your banthas from nose to tail, borrowed or otherwise."
Organa ignored Andronikos, and continued in the same voice as before. The inquisitor wondered how often he had practised his lines.
"That was a nice trick you played on Rehanna, but there is no way a Jedi would fall for the dark manipulations of your kind. I simply indulged your game until I was better prepared to face you. When you manipulate people's emotions to your ends, you only prove the Jedi philosophy. The Jedi are elevated by higher things than emotion – by peace and justice..."
"As if you'd know anything about those", Raven growled. "You weren't so bad as a teenager, I suppose, when you were still able to feel love. But when your Jedi bosses coughed, you turned tail at once, betrayed what you felt for fear of repercussions, broke the heart of the woman who adored you, and hid behind platitudes ever since. I have more light than you'll ever have, and I am not afraid of my emotions. But you are. There is no peace in your heart because of this, and there was no justice in making Rehanna suffer for decades, either."
There was no visible reaction at all at the name of his former lover, which made the inquisitor wonder whether Nomar had indeed ever felt anything deep for Lady Rist. Raven was glad that the older assassin had finally started to work through her grief; she'd be alright again if given time.
"It is not for a Jedi to let his thoughts be clouded by emotion..."
With his last words, the world around them turned golden. A warm wind engulfed the young Sith, playing gently through her hair, and bright light exploded in a myriad gleaming swirls. Raven closed her eyes out of reflex, partly blinded, and when she opened them again, there was another figure standing right next to the Organa Jedi. The golden light contracted, condensed, and formed the shape of a young woman. Then the energy vanished, but some of it still seemed to be stuck in her shiny, dark-blonde hair. And her eyes... Raven remembered three occasions where she had seen that precise shade of gold before. Once, a long time ago, in a tomb on Korriban, in grave light flames which had been dark blue only a second before. Then, back on Nar Shaddaa, mirrored in the Strell House's reflecting walls. And, finally, just a short time ago on Tatooine, when a whole desert had gazed back into her – and winked.
It seemed that the young Sith had finally found her mysterious pursuer. And of course it just had to be a Jedi. If the lightsaber at the woman's side hadn't been an indication, the pure amount of Force energy the newcomer radiated would have been proof enough.
Raven knew that she was staring, but she couldn't help it. There was something about the young Jedi, some strange air of familiarity, even though the Sith would have sworn that she'd never seen her before. The robed woman held her gaze, and a smile started to play around her features. It wasn't an ironic grin, though, but an honest smile, which seemed to light her face up again with a faint, golden shine.
Andronikos was the first to regain his senses. Switching his blasters from one target to the other and back again, he only shook his head. "If that's the new generation of the Order, dammit, then sign me up for a job on Tython."
"Emissary? What are you doing here?"
Wonderful. Apparently, Nomar Organa knew the other Jedi, and worse, she wasn't an ordinary fighter for the light side, but had a more prominent role in the order. What those diplomats lacked in combat training, they usually more than made up for in sheer Force strength. Still, it was a double-bladed lightsaber which Raven had spotted at her side; those weapons were usually wielded by Jedi Consulars who could really make use of their destructive potential.
The young woman had all but ignored both the pirate and the Jedi, and was still fixating the assassin before her. But now, she drew her lightsaber in one single, fluent move.
"Moira", she said, no, declared, with more than just a hint of satisfaction and warmth in her voice, and turned on the spot, lifted her arm like a dancer – and hit the Jedi next to her with her weapon's hilt directly over his head. As Nomar Organa fell to the ground, knocked out cold, the consular had already put away her saber again.
"Moira", the Jedi repeated, and spread her arms, as if she wanted to come over and hug her. Raven wasn't sure if she was hallucinating, or if her opponent was simply mental, but something wasn't quite right here.
"Er..."
The young consular frowned slightly, which didn't anything to diminish her beauty. Ironic, really; those features were simply wasted on a Jedi.
"Of course you wouldn't remember me. Moira, please, I'm not your enemy."
Something in her posture, her voice, her whole sincere aura made Raven hesitate as she grasped her own lightsaber.
"I am Raven Kallig", she repeated what she'd already told the Dune Sea on Tatooine, but with a lot more curiosity than annoyance. Whatever the Jedi's story was, it had to be quite interesting. The consular, however, shook her head so hard that her golden hair was flying around her like a shining halo.
"Maybe that is who you have become", she answered, "but in truth, you are Moira Kell, daughter of Victoria Kell. I know that you suffered through slavery, but you were not born one. You had another family, once, a father, a mother... and you still have got a sister."
The Jedi lifted her hand, and Andronikos slumped down, tricked by the powers of the Force. Raven wanted to ignite her weapon, to fight the light-side agent who had played on her gullibility, but somehow, she couldn't move; bound in a net of golden light, she could only grimace as the young Jedi walked over and grasped her shoulders. Now, with her face just inches before her own, Raven had to admit that there was more than just a small hint of family resemblance in her features; her own face was marred by the scars she'd earned by fighting on Ziost. But if the Sith tried to imagine how she'd look without them, the result would be quite similar to the young woman before here, who was just tightening her grip.
"I know you have no reason to trust me, Moira. I would laugh into my face if I was in your place. But please, take this disk; it contains what files I could pull out of the Imperial and Republic archives on our parents. And, here..."
Three golden hairs found their way onto the data disk's cask.
"… I suppose you won't even look at that data without being able to run a DNA check first. I have also included a holo frequency. When – if – you have verified the basics, Moira, then please, let us talk. I haven't searched you for years, just to lose you now to mutual mistrust, or this almost-galactic war that is in the making."
The Jedi released her shoulders, and disappeared, only to reappear directly over the fallen Organa Jedi. She seized Nomar quite roughly at his collar, and flashed Raven another smile.
"Sorry for that, by the way. Nomar's an idiot fool, and a coward. Some of us are different, though."
Raven felt the energy which held her diminish, and knew that the consular was about to phase again, this time away from her and the whole Elysium.
"Wait", she spoke, as she regained control of her voice, and the Jedi hesitated for a second. "Crazy or not, I'm not sure yet, but what is your name, Jedi?"
The smile was back on the consular's face. Raven got the impression that the young woman before her did that a lot.
"Lea", she answered, and some aspect of this name echoed through the young Sith, finding a resonance in memories so old that she'd forgotten having them in the first place. "My name is Lea."
And with that, the other woman vanished in a stream of golden energy, taking away Nomar with her, and leaving Raven free to claim the artefact she had been searching – and with a thousand questions to ponder.
Next to her, Andronikos slowly got back to his feet. "If you want my opinion, Sith, then this crackpot is telling the truth. That Jedi is as insane as you – it just has to be partly genetic."
Dromund Kaas, Citadel, 6 BEA
The familiar red lights of the Imperial Citadel greeted Raven, as she approached the Sith Sanctum. She still didn't appreciate this sight, though. Khem and Andronikos had left her minutes ago – the pirate wanted to check the markets, while the Dashade needed to get some of his pent-up aggression out of his system. The young Sith pitied any beast that would cross his path.
After presenting the fifth and final artefact to her master, the inquisitor used the opportunity to spend some time in Zash's huge library again. There were some new volumes here, even rarer than the other tomes which the Darth treasured, and Raven took care not to damage any of them. But the knowledge she was seeking today couldn't be found in the older books. The young Sith sighed, and turned to the more modern parts of the library. About twenty years ago, there might have been two people somewhere in the galaxy whom she could have called 'parents'. Well, Raven was reasonably sure that, at least at the time of her birth, her mother had indeed still been around, and she'd almost certainly also had a father, too – cloning wasn't that common. But if the crazy Jedi was right, then these two people hadn't just been anybody. And certainly no animal shelter activists, either. According to the data disk, both of them had been Sith. Darths, in fact. And, worse, even on the Dark Council for some time. That fact had bothered Raven more than she'd liked to admit.
It had been night when she'd summoned enough courage to finally touch the data from the Jedi girl, and she'd been glad that her quarters were soundproof, for she couldn't have suppressed the hysterical fit of laughter even if she'd tried. Apparently, her parents had virtually ruled over a huge kingdom, complete with large woods, and high trees. They would also have been quite able to supply their offspring with all kinds of colourful robes. And they most certainly had fought their share of battles, and had obviously been quite busy during their time. But Raven doubted that there had been anything remotely resembling a silver hare on Dromund Kaas, ever. And if she'd ever been certain about one fact, then it was this: There was no love among Sith. Passion, yes, but nothing more. Only darkness ruled that special kingdom. Zash might be slightly different, with her friendliness and support, but master-student relationships were likely the only type of stable interaction patterns possible between Sith. For parents and children, the best case scenario appeared to be shipping the offspring to Korriban as soon as possible. Alternatives were... less pleasant. The young inquisitor had read much about Darth Jadus, and his daughter, Darth Zhorrid, since the younger Darth was roughly her age, and her story had caught the young assassin's interest. If she'd avoided Zhorrid's fate, she might even owe the slavers who had caught her a debt of gratitude – as sickening as this might sound.
"Master? Is there any other task you wish me to perform right now?"
Raven had carefully peaked into Zash's meditation chamber, ready to sneak out again to not disturb the Darth if she was meditating. But the older Sith was just sitting at her desk, chin cupped in her hand, and watching a lone candle burn away the darkness in the room. As the flame danced up and down, the young inquisitor was quite positive to detect something akin to melancholy in Zash's expression. But whatever had been on the Darth's mind got buried again, as the older Sith turned her head in greeting.
"My most marvellous apprentice", she smiled, and the shadows disappeared from her face for a moment. "You never rest, do you? Always eager to do your part..."
A hint of a smile remained, but darker lines crept back to Zash's face, making her look considerably older. And the impression of wistfulness returned, stronger than before, paired with something else.
Grief, maybe?
Raven bowed deeply, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to ask.
"Is there something wrong, master?" she asked, concerned. "Can I help you with anything?"
Darth Zash flinched slightly, and averted her gaze.
"No, but thanks for asking", she remarked kindly. Then she sighed, a sound that seemed to echo through the whole room.
"Apprentice? Have you ever asked yourself whether the choices you have made were really the best ones? Have you ever found yourself balancing along a razor's edge, knowing that you'll fall eventually, with only the side of the razor's blade left to choose?"
The young Sith frowned. That sounded worse than the average fit of self-doubt. Besides, she doubted that Darths suffered from those.
"I usually try to think thoroughly about each of my choices", she answered carefully. "Even if one turns out to be wrong in the end, I know that I have done my best, and to the best of my knowledge, and that I've nothing to regret. But if you find yourself walking along a thin bridge, with only darkness visible in each direction, and you know that you'll have to dive eventually – why not jump up, and see if you can fly?"
There was no mistaking the expression of sorrow on the Darth's face now.
"Perhaps the darkness below is too alluring", she answered, and shook her head, as if to banish and expel whatever ghosts were haunting her. Then Zash smiled again, her usual friendly demeanour firmly back into place.
"Right now I don't need anything, my apprentice. I still have some research to do on the artefacts, and the ritual. Get some sleep, and enjoy a small holiday while you can. I'll summon you soon enough when it is time."
Nar Shaddaa, Hutt Laboratory, 6 BEA
Genetic match coefficient: Very high.
Likelihood of relation between subjects: Very high.
Closing her eyes for a moment, Raven massaged her forehead. She didn't need to check the more detailed analysis results, didn't really need the short summary of the DNA analyser as confirmation at all – just seeing the face of the young Jedi on Alderaan had been enough to make her believe, deep down, in the seemingly impossible claim of the young woman with the golden hair. She just didn't quite know what to do with the new knowledge.
Aside from being horrified at the mere thought of her parents, the inquisitor now suddenly found herself having a sibling. Dark side mother and father weren't so much of a real and tangible problem, though; to the best of her knowledge, both had been dead for decades. And ghosts didn't frighten the young Sith. But her sister was real enough.
And a Jedi, which should have equalled 'mortal enemy'. Only that Lea didn't seem to give a bantha's ear about it. The memory of Nomar Organa going down with the bruise of the century on his head still gave a warm feeling to Raven's stomach.
Evidence-based deduction. Logic. The young inquisitor found solace in the cool calculus of reason. While an elaborate ruse was not impossible, chances were high that the Jedi really was her sister. She'd checked quite a number of documents in the Imperial Citadel, and they fit with the Jedi's story and information. There had been a Victoria Kell, once, and also a Moira, and Lea. While the name of her supposed mother meant nothing to Raven, she couldn't deny that the young consular was the living image of the deceased Darth. There had been quite a number of recordings in the archives, and the Republic couldn't have possibly manipulated them all. She hadn't been able to find a clear picture of her father's face, but hadn't searched thoroughly, either – what did it matter which side of the family was responsible for her own eye colour?
And if Lea was a clone, or even herself, for that matter, it wouldn't make a difference. The Republic, or anyone, really, wouldn't have anything to gain from such a deception; it wasn't like they would inherit their parents' seats on the Dark Council, after all. Spending the resources for cloning to give one or two Sith who might recognize their faces a headache just didn't make sense, so Raven ruled out that possibility.
Whatever had happened, 20 years ago, wasn't as important as what would happen now. Somehow, Lea had ended up with the Jedi, while she herself had become a Sith apprentice. And that meant that her sister was likely a Republic agent, trying to worm her way past her own personal defences, to gain information and manipulate her to the Jedi's benefit. Sure, it was a pretty obvious move, but with the whole family business and emotional baggage, the Republic SIS must have deemed it worth a try. It might work both ways, though. While trying to win her trust, the Jedi might offer her valuable information, too – Raven made a mental note to talk to Darth Zash at the next opportunity.
For now, though, she had other concerns. The spirit of her long-dead ancestor, Lord Kallig, had visited the young Sith again. Raven had ignored his nebulous warnings about her master's potential plotting for now, but the lead on the Lord's old lightsaber was interesting enough. Raven treasured her own master's old saber, which she'd gotten as a gift from Zash, but it never hurt to have a high-quality back-up.
Nar Shaddaa, Industrial Sector, 6 BEA
Raven pulled her lightsaber out of the corpse of yet another thug, and tried to ignore Khem's sniffing behind her. None of the mercenaries in Gyl Rosen's employ was even remotely Force sensitive, but the Shadow Killer still seemed to hope for a surprise snack. After Khem had told her to eat and drink at one of the casinos, as he wanted her to be fully sated once he devoured her, the young Sith had decided to put him on a diet. There were a number of things the inquisitor took personally, and being treated like a sandwich was one of them.
Talking to idiots was another thing she disliked. Raven squinted her eyes and wondered if Rosen was blind, deaf, and stupid, or simply suicidal.
"Look, I am standing here with Nar Shaddaa's toughest mercenaries. Guys that make the Sith look like schoolteachers. So what I'm thinking is, you're going to listen to me. That's what I'm thinking."
Raven wondered how much pain his single brain cell was in from all this supposed 'thinking'. It had to be a lot.
"Here's what I propose: I give you the lightsaber, and you come work for me as my own personal Sith. That, or you pay me three million credits."
The young Sith lifted one eyebrow.
"Hard to believe", she yawned, "but you're actually dumber than you look."
Rosen's face turned an interesting shade of scarlet no natural rose could have hoped to achieve.
"All right, then!" he shouted, allowing Raven a detailed view of his tonsils. "You made your choice. Boys, kill the Sith!"
It took the inquisitor about one single glance to the thugs in question to know that they wouldn't even try. Some words of encouragement later, Rosen's men were running out of the room, while their former leader was dangling in the air from a little Force field, screaming in panic, and begging for his life. Raven made him give up the lightsaber case and promise to clear her ancestor's servant's descendant's debt, trying not to get a headache from all the relationships between people she barely knew herself. But it had been worth it, she thought, when she saw Mila Escalus' face lit up with hope.
The Force had freed the former servant.
Not willing to deal with her especially morose monster more than she had to for now, Raven sent Khem Val back to her starship. She spent the rest of the day eating and drinking herself through the Star Cluster Casino's menu, while watching Andronikos gamble with his salary from last week.
But she brought back a spiced tauntaun hip for Khem from one of the markets, once her rage had subsided again, and didn't hear him complain once during the whole evening. If the Sith's ears hadn't deceived her, she'd even gotten a 'thank you' as reward. Maybe the Dashade had realized that he'd gone a bit too far while venting his frustrations this time.
Dromund Kaas, Imperial Citadel, 6 BEA
"A word if you please, young one."
Raven whirled around and nearly forgot to bow in surprise; after speaking to Darth Thanaton just an hour before, she'd considered the chances of running into yet another Darth to be pretty low. That excluded Darth Zash, of course, since her master had just summoned her to the Dark Temple. But there he was, with his red pureblood skin, metallic ornaments, and a smile that was always just a tad too knowing – Darth Vowrawn.
Despite his polite phrasing, there was only one possible answer. The young Sith nodded, mutely, not wanting to upset the Dark Councillor accidentally, or reminding him of the exploding furniture incident back on Korriban, and followed him to the entrance of his own Sphere's halls. There, the pureblooded Sith picked up a small holo. It showed a heavily-armoured man with a severe case of battle scars and general ugliness.
"As you are venturing into the Dark Temple again, perhaps there is a small errand you could do for me. There is a renegade Mandalorian bounty hunter, named Valen Korik, who is wanted for the murder of two Sith Lords; he fled into the temple. If you bring him to justice, by which I mean 'kill him however you see fit', then I have a nice little reward waiting for you right here."
Raven just stared at the Dark Councillor.
"What makes you think I'm going into the temple in the first place?" she blurted out, and then stopped herself, shocked, half-expecting to be Force-choked. But Vowrawn only smiled.
"Why, I hacked a communication line, of course", he chuckled, unconcerned. "And not even one of yours, I must say. I just decided to... ah... 'check in' on my dear friend Darth Thanaton, and he in turn was spying on your master. Welcome to the wonderful world of Sith politics!"
Once before, the young Sith had wondered whether the Darth was completely insane. It seemed she hadn't been so wrong, after all.
"Even if it's true, why tell me?" she asked, deciding to test her luck. "Thanaton won't be pleased..."
Vowrawn shook his head. "No, he wouldn't. That's why I'm telling you this here, where there are no witnesses, and where all security cameras have been carefully manipulated by none other than myself. You can, of course, go and tell Thanaton or Zash, but I would caution you against it. Neither of them has your best interests in mind. Sure, I don't have, either, but right now, I'm just a spectator at the side lines, in for nothing but my own amusement, while trying not to get burned in the process. Those two have some more... direct concerns, I'm afraid."
Blue eyes met red ones, and Raven got the feeling that this wasn't everything. But what else could possibly interest a Darth...
He'd shown a certain interest in her fate even back on Ziost.
Fiery spirit.
Like her mother, Darth Ignus, who had also been known as 'Korriban's Flame'.
It's always good to know who you are, don't you think?
When had Vowrawn ascended to the Dark Council? Raven could have sworn that he'd held the position for a whole number of decades. More than two, at least. And this meant that he had once worked alongside her parents.
Just thinking that last, single word made her head hurt severely.
Trying to leave her face as blank as possible, the inquisitor wondered about the best way to end this conversation. How did one check the relationships between Sith years ago, especially when the majority of those involved were already dead?
"Well, you could just ask. But it wouldn't do you any good unless to could trust whomever you'd choose to question, and that's the critical part, isn't it?"
Vowrawn grinned and blinked, and Raven felt all blood leave her face. So that was the source of her headache, just seconds ago... The Dark Councillor had read her mind.
Oh dear.
"I believe there's a temple waiting for you, right, Raven?"
The pureblood continued to smile, and suddenly appeared to be as dangerous and enigmatic as the very building he had just mentioned. "But take some advise, and one explanation, before you go. Learn to close your mind, and be careful. Sith interests are complicated. And, yes, I owe it to somebody. Now, hurry along, if you are prepared. Your master won't be pleased if you delay; she hasn't got much time left."
Dromund Kaas, Dark Temple, 6 BEA
The first thing Raven noticed when she entered the innermost chamber of the Dark Temple was the unnatural cold. When she'd been at the temple months ago, no, nearly a year ago by now, it had been unpleasant, too, but now there was a new undercurrent of something… sinister in the atmosphere. Dark blue mist curled from ancient stone braziers, and a weird angular chandelier-like structure adorned the ceiling. The young Sith made sure not to step directly under it; there was something ominous in the way the shadows flowed around its edges.
And the whispering… always the whispering. Long dead Sith, hissing to each other, in voices and tongues long forgotten, too quiet to make any sense of it, yet too loud to be ignored. Raven felt goose bumps start to cover her skin, and hurried forward, eager for some more human company. Before her, just up some antique stairs, stood Darth Zash. The young inquisitor smiled in greeting, but felt her muscles freeze at the same moment. It wasn't just that Zash refused to turn towards her, or that she'd exchanged her usual red robes for some black silk getup – whatever had tainted the air in the temple's antechambers also seemed to reside in its dark heart. And it got stronger with every step that Raven took towards her master.
"Such marvellous power radiates from you now. Clear. Strong. You have truly come into your own."
The young inquisitor relaxed at the sound of Zash's voice. That, at least, was still the same, despite the strangeness around – still full of the warmth Raven had come to associate with the older Darth. A small smile dared to appear on her face, and the young Sith chuckled when she realized that she'd almost got scared of some old bones and eerie winds.
"You possess great power, certainly, but the teachings of Korriban seem to have had scant influence on you. How many times did you have the option to expand your power and yet stayed your hand? Do you really know what it means to be Sith?"
Raven heard disapproval, but also curiosity colour the tone of her master. But she was prepared, had been for quite some time. She'd been afraid to be confronted with her more merciful decisions for months now, actually.
"Like the Sith code says, my chains are broken", she answered calmly. "I can choose my own path."
Zash still didn't make a move, and Raven was still staring at the back of her black robe. Slowly, the unease started to creep back into the young Sith's bones.
"Indeed it does. But what worth does this freedom have if you don't use it?"
Her master sighed, but did not turn.
"I've arranged for you to receive the title of Lord of the Sith. I hope you realize what an honour and responsibility it is."
A lord? After that introduction, Raven had been half-afraid of a severe rebuke by her master. She certainly hadn't expected a promotion.
"But there is still the ritual to undergo…"
The young Sith's brain didn't register a single word that followed, as Zash finally turned, and lifted her hood. Her gaze was fixed, mesmerized even, on and by the revelation of her master's true face. Yellow, corpse-like eyes beyond the usual shades of dark side corruption stared at her out of a wrinkled face that could very well have belonged to the average mummy from the Tarisian catacombs. Dry blotchy skin strained over hollow cheekbones, terribly akin to the Correlian death day masks, and her hair had lost its youthful shade of blonde, glittering now in an almost spectral, pale white.
Khem had once stated that the witch reeked of death. Raven swore to herself to never underestimate his senses again.
"… I am dying, my apprentice."
"Is there nothing I can do to help?" the young Sith asked, reflex overriding her shock. Her master had earned her compassion and support, not contempt due to her looks, after all.
Zash's face lit up with a smile that could only be described as haunting.
"You've already done more than you realize, apprentice. You will allow me to live on. We will accomplish so much once I am in command of that wonderful vessel of yours. Just hold still."
What?
Self-preservation screamed in Raven's mind, but a mix of deadly surprise and hostile Force power held her in place, sapping her strength as well as her will to fight. She tried to reach for her lightsaber, grasped for the Force herself, but to no avail. A groan behind the young Sith told her that Khem wasn't faring much better; the Dashade was all but paralysed as well. The demon figure that had once been her master closed in, still with that damnable grin of death on her skull-like visage, lifted her bony hands towards her…
The whole floor shook in what must have been quite an explosion. Surprised, Zash jumped back, and the spell was broken. Raven didn't need more encouragement. Her lightsaber was out and ignited in a heartbeat, and she shielded her faithful Dashade as well as her own mind, as both of them approached her former master.
You were supposed to be different! I believed that you of all Sith would be different… I needed to believe that Sith could be different.
Raven didn't speak those words, but they still sounded in every hum of her lightsaber, in each and every strike. It seemed that there was no friendship, no trust possible between Sith, after all. Only deceit, betrayal, and death.
Even with the distraction that had saved her at the beginning of the fight, and Khem's invaluable help after that, the young inquisitor almost didn't make it. She nearly had Zash down on her bony knees, but in a last stand conjuration of Force power, the dark sorceress managed to break through her defences again. Raven felt her body hit old stones, and flew through the air again, this time lifted by ice-cold energy that immobilized her even more thoroughly. She saw lightning, and then something grey, flying – and the world turned black.
But it didn't stay that way. Groaning, the young inquisitor sat up, and checked whether she was still herself. Her hands looked good, the rest of her body, too, at least from what she could see, and her mind was still her own as well. Or so she guessed; Raven couldn't really picture a body-stealing Darth whose first concern would be finding a blasted toilet.
The young Sith blamed it on the shock, and stress.
Her relief at seeing Zash's corpse on the ground was short-lived, however, when the voice of her late master called to her from the body of her Dashade. Apparently, Khem had interrupted the Darth's ritual at the last possible moment, and paid a severe price for the rescue. But when the voice of her morose monster spoke again, and Raven realized that she hadn't yet lost him to her former master, she threw caution in the wind and hugged Khem, once, promising that she would find a way to rid him of the dark spirit that now co-inhabited his body.
Finally, a whole number of Zash's followers appeared. The explosion that had distracted Zash had been a part of an attack by Imperial forces on the temple; apparently, some of the military leaders in Kaas City had deemed that it was time to end the mad menace once and for all. In their wake, those young apprentices had entered the dusty halls as well. The young Sith marvelled at the ingenuity with which the Darth had acted; telling her other apprentices that she herself would sacrifice her life so that 'Raven' could lead the Sith to new glory was a brilliant move. Still, it hadn't saved the scheming master.
Sometimes, rarely, one could experience this thing called 'classic reversal of fortunes'.