"Thus fell Cress Thul… both destroyer of worlds and savior of the galaxy," Albion intoned, his voice heavy with finality.
A respectful silence fell upon the captives who were huddled together beneath the veiled eyes of their black-robed guards. There was a strange sort of spell that could be woven by a storyteller. A skilled bard could pull an emotion from a listener like a tangled thread from the warp- smoothing it out or twisting it as they willed. The very best of them could tell a tale that left you empty as it ended, and weighed down with the loss of characters who felt more like companions than constructs.
"Ssss'not the way I heard it!" hissed a scaly-faced, older man, breaking the quiet of Rey's reflection.
"Nor I," complained another voice, "the story is supposed to go that he murdered the Lady and then felt guilty and jumped off the peak of Mount Eader on Alderaan."
"No, no, he never died at all. The blood of the Lady made him an immortal, and he waits for the end of time in a desert on an uncharted planet," another argued.
Perhaps Albion was not the best of story-tellers, or perhaps it was that Rey had assigned a face and a form to Cress Thul which was already so familiar to her, but the other slaves quickly shook off the weight of Cress Thul's death to argue amongst themselves. For Rey, however, the image of a black-robed man, pulling the arrow out of his chest, using his own life to destroy all of his enemies in one final blow… it struck her as true and powerful in a way that few stories ever had. Certainly, though Albion spoke only of the Rakata disintegrating in an instant, so too had the army of Cress Thul been sacrificed. Though he said that Cress Thul had fled to and been cornered in the desert, she knew from experience and insight that it was far more likely that such a commander would have led the enemy there, waiting for just the right moment. No one, from his closest advisor to his most vengeful enemy would have seen it coming… that moment…
The rage and fear which had filled her for days, driving her from Jakku to Ka'vec to Lothal, fueling every rash and dangerous decision she made, sharpening almost every word she spoke, at last began to drain. Though he loved and valued it, Cress Thul's blood arrow was merely a thing, a tool to be wrenched from his very heart and used as a final weapon at his discretion. Kylo Ren would find that his blood arrow had a will of its own. The thought almost made her smile.
"Let's have another!" someone demanded.
"Ahhh… then how about I relate the tale of Xesh the Force-Hound and how he changed his dark fate by falling in love with his enemy, the Je-daii ranger, Shae Koda," Albion offered.
"Love stories, bah!"
"Tell the story of the bounty hunter, Boba Fett. Everyone loves that tale!"
"The best tales are the old ones!"
Albion did his best to not look pleased, but the enthusiasm of their fellow slaves brought a glint to his eye. He was truly in his element with an audience who were, quite literally, captive. When he noticed Rey staring, he gave her a quick wink.
"The best tales are indeed the old ones, and so I relate to you the tale of—"
The rub of metal against metal interrupted the Bimm's story as the bay doors slid open. Two more of the black-robed acolytes entered and stopped in front of Rey.
"On your feet," one of them growled. Although she felt no fear, Rey was quick to comply. Having lost the element of surprise, she had very little time to find another advantage before reaching Baudere. She would have to discover what she could from Jaila.
Sandwiched between the two acolytes, Rey gave Albion a quick nod before she was led from the room.
Down a long, empty corridor, and through two sets of doors, Jaila sat waiting in a sparsely-furnished room. There was a table and a single chair upon which she sat on one side of the room, and a bench against the opposite wall. When the acolytes dropped her unceremoniously on the bench, Jaila glanced up from her com and dismissed the two with a frown.
"Well?" Rey demanded, straightening her back in an attempt to look dignified despite the state of her clothing and injuries.
"What happened to your face?" Jaila asked. Her voice, through the modulator of her mask, seemed to imply the question was more of a taunt.
When Rey gave no answer, Jaila sighed and reached up to remover her modulator and lift the mask.
Rey found the woman staring back at her to be almost more frightening without the helmet. Jaila's skin was pure white, and her lips were black. Her head was shaved clean, but was heavily tattooed with thin black bands which also marked her cheeks and forehead. Her red eyes were heavily lined in black as well, and around the crown of her head protruded several small horns.
She was near-human, but not a race Rey recognized. As though registering Rey's discomfort, Jaila smirked.
"Not what you were expecting, I suppose. So then, what was Kylo Ren's filthy little pet doing at a slave market on Lothal, dressed like a dancing girl?"
"It isn't your concern," Rey assured her.
Not at all put out by the sharpness of Rey's words, Jaila smirked and nodded her agreement.
"No, I suppose it isn't, but what IS my concern, having found you, is just what, precisely, I should do with you-"
"I thought you were taking slaves to Baudere," Rey interrupted.
"Slaves? Not at all. Even now, one of our acolytes is explaining to our guests that once we set down, they will be free to choose to join our order, or disembark with their freedom and make their own way. We don't bring slaves into our citadel. Slaves, after all, are often disloyal and rebellious…" Jaila paused to glance pointedly at the heavy metal collar around Rey's neck, "Most chose to stay, of course. For those who have lived as slaves, the idea of obtaining power over others is often very alluring."
"And what about me? I suppose you've already informed your supreme leader, Kylo Ren of—"
"You assume too much!" Jaila snapped. "No. I've called you here to tell you that you may walk free at our next landing."
"It's a trap," Rey guessed. "If you were going to let me walk free, you'd have never taken me from Lothal to begin with. You're going to space me and anyone who won't join you, is that it?"
"I assure you that I have no such intention. You will be left very much alive on Dathomir."
"The Rancor planet?!" Rey gasped, jumping to her feet.
"I find that name offensive," Jaila frowned.
"I see now why so many choose to join your order! There are no transports, no trade, no known inhabitants beside the packs of Rancors which roam the planet. It's a death sentence!" Rey insisted.
"Rumors and nonsense," Jaila soothed. "I've spent plenty of time there myself. The forests are some of the loveliest in the Quelii System."
"And this is what HE orders, is it?" Rey demanded.
"I have not spoken with Kylo Ren. There was no need. I have not received orders concerning you whatsoever. Apparently, you're not as important to him as you think."
"And yet, you think that he won't find out what you've done? You think that he'll be pleased that you let me walk free—"
"I don't fear Kylo Ren," Jaila scoffed. "You forget that all Knights of Ren know their fate. I do not die by his hand."
Rey stumbled as the ships engine abruptly slowed. In another instant, she was almost thrown to the ground by the force of impact—something striking the ship. Jaila's expression did not change. She blinked slowly as she watched Rey stumble back and brace herself against the bench.
"There are no hyperlanes to Dathomir. Too many moons, and an asteroid field besides," she explained. As though to underscore her words, the ship dropped again, likely taking evasive maneuvers as it moved through the asteroid field. Rey sat and gripped the bench firmly, ignoring the faintly amused smirk on Jaila's face.
"You wanted to escape, didn't you? To be free of him… of your hatred, your fear, your desire for him? He won't find you on Dathomir. Neither will your other master. So you see, I truly am offering you freedom… of a sort."
"No. This is… this is revenge for your apprentice," Rey shook her head.
"We are not motivated by revenge," she chuckled. "Nor are we motivated by the desire for power, or hatred or compassion, or even loyalty. These are silly things for small-minded lightsaber swingers."
"Then what drives you, anger? Cruelty? Madness?!" Rey guessed.
"Chaos," Jaila smiled and lifted her helmet. She brought her mask down quickly and replaced the modulator with her other hand. "The great equalizer…" the metallic tone of her voice rose the gooseflesh on the back of Rey's neck.
The engines slowed further, and now Rey could feel the thrust of the landing rockets. They were descending to Darthomir, and Jaila stood and offered her a hand.
Ignoring it, Rey got to her feet, and followed the Knight to the cargo hold where the slaves had already been assembled. They waited beside the doors for the ramp to be lowered.
Albion saw Rey first and waved a hand in greeting. His cheery smile suggested that he was unaware of which planet their captors planned to set them down upon. Rey frowned and shook her head slightly at him. It would be better not to remind Jaila that they were together, or she might put him off along with her, and the Bimm's constitution was ill-suited for survival on such a planet.
When the doors opened and the ramp finally lowered, Rey stooped to get her first look at the place of her exile. It was a disappointing glance. A red mist obscured anything a few feet beyond the end of the ramp. All she could see was barren and rocky ground.
Jaila shoved her forward so that Rey stumbled upon the ramp.
"Anyone who wishes to go free, do so now," Jaila announced, "otherwise, return to the holding room and prepare to depart."
No one moved. All eyes were on Rey as she stood uncertainly on the ramp.
She could attack. Her lightsaber had once again been removed when she was taken on Lothal, but Jaila did not appear to be carrying a weapon either. There was her armor, or course, but Rey's sense told her that the two of them were well-matched in strength. The acolytes were difficult to gage. The real problem were the slaves. It was hard to know what they would do. Would they stand beside the Knights of Ren, or would they fight to take control of the ship alongside her. Either way, some would die. Beyond that, though she had not seen them, she could sense the presence of others on board—perhaps Jaila's fellow Knights of Ren.
Rey squared her shoulders and turned her back to the ship, striding down the ramp with a confidence she certainly didn't feel.
"Hold on!" Albion called. "Just an imperial minute now!"
He pushed his way to the front and stepped onto the ramp.
Rey's eyes widened as she shook her head at him. It was bad enough to wander without food or water across a planet known for the massive size of its rancors, worse still to attempt it with a Bimm for a companion.
Ignoring her subtle command, Albion grinned again.
"I can't very well let you go alone, can I? I'll choose my freedom, thanks."
He waved to his fellow captives and marched down the ramp past Rey, pausing only to give her a hearty clap on the shoulder, before disappearing into the mist. Horrified, Rey hurried to catch up.
"Albion!" she hissed, her arms outstretched before her as she made her way through the dim red mists. She could feel his presence ahead of her, but could see nothing but her hands.
"Here!" he called.
Her fingers brushed the arm of his tunic and she quickly snatched it,
"You have to go back and—"
From behind them, the sound of the thrusters firing announced the departure of the Knights of Ren.
"Too late now," Albion shrugged, "Kind of you to worry about me, but I assure you, I won't be any trouble—"
"Any trouble? It's not you causing trouble I'm worried about! Do you have any idea where we are?" she snapped.
"Dathomir, isn't it?" he frowned, glancing around as though the red mist would suddenly reveal some landmark. He jumped up and down a few times, and then grinned. "Yep. Dathomir. I've heard it's a bit below standard gravity—it means the trees here grow to be simply massive."
"As do the rancors!" Rey growled.
Still holding his sleeve, she stretched her arm out and closed her eyes, leading them forward as she tried to sense… anything.
"I've heard that as well. I've collected a few stories about Dathomir, but precious few to be sure. It's a very mysterious planet with a long history. We'll have to find a vantage point—try to get above this bloody fog so we can take in the lay of the land. It must be getting close to sunset, but the nights are quite bright—four moons, you know," he explained.
It was difficult to concentrate with the Bimm's incessant talking, but Rey was already beginning to feel as though something was wrong. The Force was different here… darker. Not the sickening darkness of Korriban which had made her stomach churn, but dark enough to put her on edge. Albion took no notice of her mood.
"Anyhow, it's not the rancors I'm worried about," Albion continued. "No, you'll see them coming a long way off, and they're not especially brilliant, are they? They've got bane-back spiders here too, you know. They spit acid, so you've got to be careful where you step, and look out for holes! Then there's the nydaks, but they mostly stick to the caves I hear, so I don't suppose I'm too worried about them either…"
Rey knew that he was prompting her to ask him what worried him most about Dathomir, but the conversation was breaking her focus. She could feel something alive before them… something living but non-sentient. There was water as well. She could not see it or hear it, but she could feel the movement and vitality of it in the tips of her fingers. Perhaps a forest with a small stream, or maybe a swamp…
"No, what worries me the most are the Nightsisters," Albion admitted. "Have you heard of them? No? Powerful witches with force-magic. The only men they allow to live are the ones they keep as slaves for breeding—though that would make a good story for a certain type of crowd, I suppose-"
Rey shushed him and stopped. The light had grown even fainter, but the mist seemed to be thinning as well. She could hear the stream now, and even the rustle of leaves from what was most certainly a vast forest, but there was something else out there as well. Something stealthy that crept through the woods and tracked them as they moved. Something that could conceal itself from the Force-sensitive.
A tiny spark of bright orange light flared up in the distance. Rey narrowed her eyes and took a step closer.
"What is… Ack!" she shrieked and tackled Albion into the ground, just as a solid bolt of glowing orange plasma shot over their heads and buried itself in the ground beside them.
