As much as I would like to say I own Disney I don't so I don't own Star Wars, either.
So, my first attempt at a short(er) story. If I can pull this off in 20,000 to 30,000 words, I'll have a hope of getting in some more in the future as I finish off my already in-progress stories, both new story and sequel (maybe).
As with (almost) all my explicit stories, this will be a fanfic with lemon(s), not a lemon fanfic, so don't expect everyone to be hopping into bed every chapter, or even most chapters ... okay, only a few chapters, maybe one, we'll see.
Vrei Qui-Xot sat unmoving in his chair (throne), the Human alone in the control room of the deCrion research station—the secret research station, with an experimental regimen that the Republic would not have approved of, if it had known. In fact, the Republic's disapproval of that experimental regimen would have been strong enough that if it had known of deCrion Station's existence, the response would likely have been a Navy task force with orders to bombard it from orbit rather than any of the Patrol's ships with warrants for arrests and show trials.
Sith alchemy always terrified the weak.
Not so weak that the Jedi couldn't kill the Master, were they?
Qui-Xot snarled at the thought, but couldn't deny it. The news over the HoloNet had been filled with the revelation that the Republic's beloved Chancellor was the Sith Lord Darth Sidious, that he had been the one to maneuver the Republic and the Separatists into war in order to increase his own power and to kill as many of the Jedi as possible, before his final strike. The final strike had done its job—the Jedi had been decimated, only a shadow of their former numbers—but now all it was, was a funeral pyre for the last of the Sith ... at least, until the next sapient eager to drink from the well of true power found one of what must be any number of lost sources of the knowledge he needed.
But whoever that was, it would not be Qui-Xot. The latest supply shuttle was over two weeks late; the station had no hyperspace-capable ships of its own, nor the plans or parts to build one; and from the reports of the massive infodump that had accompanied the Master's death, the only ships likely to arrive were that Navy task force. But perhaps ... just perhaps ... I can leave a gift for them. If there are no signs of life, perhaps they will send a scouting party rather than bombard from a distance. And then—
His snarl turning into a broad, vicious grin, he rose from his seat and strode over to one of the control panels lining the wall, his dark robes swirling about his legs. A few quick finger strokes and the multiple screens lit up, along with the keyboard below them. Qui-Xot gazed for a long moment at the cells holding the creatures that were simultaneously his greatest success and worst failure, biomechanics monstrosities almost absent in the Force, with teeth, talons, whip-like tail, and acid blood, and a voracious hunger that would have made them the perfect weapon to unleash against the hated Jedi ... if only they could be controlled.
Well, that lack of control wasn't an issue now. He typed in a long password, then when a warning flashed on a screen another even longer password (quickly, one of the security features was a timer on the password entry). An alarm began to whoop but he ignored it, simply stepping back and watching as on all the monitor screens the doors to the cells opened and without hesitation his creations darted out of the cameras' views. He imagined he could hear the screams of his technicians and scientists as they saw their deaths unleashed.
The other Acolytes wouldn't be screaming of course, and they wouldn't just give up. They'd be coming here, where they could enter the codes that would allow them to control at least some of the horrors he'd unleashed ... half, at best, but with control of even as little as a third plus whatever Acolytes still lived, they might have a chance. And that wouldn't do at all. His lightsaber darted from belt to hand and an instant later humming ruby-red blade was carving deep furrows through the required console before flashing across the room to stab into the control panel by the round door and back to his hand, deactivating on the way. That should do it. They might be able to force open the irised-closed door, but it would take time and they wouldn't be able to close it again. And while it was possible to jury-rig another console to assume the functions of the one he had just destroyed, it would also take time. He could just destroy all the consoles ... but no, leaving them in place would make this room a trap, with only a single entrance—and so exit—baited by hope. Leave them.
He returned to his seat—his throne—and sat, lightsaber in hand, waiting, until he could sense the desperation of the first of the Acolytes approaching the control room, until they could sense him, his own vengeful delight. Then he lifted his lightsaber, pointed it toward his chest, pressed the stud, and the red blade pierced through his heart and out the back of the throne.
What Qui-Xot would never know was that not all of the irons Darth Sidious had in his numerous fires had been dumped onto the HoloNet—some were never recorded, at least electronically; some records were corrupted by the conflict between Cort's breaker programs and the Chancellor's watchdog programs; and some inevitably fell through the cracks, lost in the massive infodump and the chaos as both the Republic and the Confederacy shattered. Giving his subordinates and slaves a (relatively) quick, brutal death was to spare them a long, drawn-out death as their supplies ran out. The Republican (or Separatist) task force never arrived.
/oOo\
Two years later:
Jedi Master Luminara Unduli smiled as her tiny ship settled in the empty bay on the anonymous Outer Rim planet—anonymous, because she hadn't programmed her navicomp for any particular destination, but simply been guided by the Force; and when she'd reached her unknown destination, she'd found herself approaching a planet sufficiently poor that not only did it lack a hyperspace transceiver, it didn't even have a subspace transceiver. It did have a port beacon, and as she'd approached the strip of land rising from the surrounding swamp (one of few on this particular planet, outside of mountain ranges and ice caps) she'd been able to see the sunken, circular landing bays that many worlds favored. But no traffic control had attempted to hail her nor had she been able to locate a channel to request landing instructions ... apparently, it was a case of grabbing whichever empty bay one wished, and paying attention to the skies when lifting off.
The empty state of most of those landing bays said a great deal about the state of the planet's economy, or the optimism of the original colonists, or both. Of course, that optimism would have been before Coruscant had dumped she had no idea how many semi-voluntary colonists into the Outer Rim. (The choice between emigration or possible starvation was an easy one, but not exactly 'voluntary'.) Luminara had no idea what all those untrained, barely prepared colonists—refugees, really—added to the Republic's and Confederacy's collapse had done to the Outer Rim's trade networks but it couldn't be good, and she was trying not to think about how many of those refugees had died, anyway. She wasn't surprised that her search for the Youxia Bond had brought her to the Outer Rim, she couldn't think of anywhere in the galaxy that needed one of its best diplomats and several of its best warriors more.
And they were here. Even if she hadn't been able to sense her former Padawan through the faint remnants of their Master/Padawan bond, the empty state of most of the landing bays had made it easy to pick out the massive armed freighter they made their home (at least for a tramp freighter, certainly much larger than the Order ship she was using, though at least it was a step up from a fighter—it came with a sleeping berth and galley). Naturally, she had picked a bay adjacent to their own.
Ship settled on its extended landing struts and maneuvering drive shut down, Luminara stretched, leaned back in the pilot's seat, and grinned as she 'reached' for Barriss ... and 'backed out' as rapidly as she could, her face a flaming red. There was a good reason why Barriss hadn't noticed her arrival, and apparently she had joined the Bond. I wonder how long? And what do I do now? She could just sit and wait, 'reach' out for Barriss occasionally until she was ... well, done, but she really didn't want to do that, the first time had been— Idiot, just because Barriss is ... enjoying herself right now doesn't mean they all are. And even if they are, they aren't traveling alone.
Straightening, she toggled on her ship's communications. "Ghost of Tom Joad, this is Jedi Master Luminara Unduli, please respond." She repeated the request several times, pausing between each request, until the view screen lit up to reveal a pure white face framed by platinum blond hair, with two black streaks running from the corners of her mouth to her jaw. Luminara's jaw dropped—as small as the screen was, the face was instantly recognizable.
Then Asajj Ventress surprised her even more by grinning at her obvious shock. "Welcome, Master Jedi, what can The Ghost of Tom Joad do for you?"
Luminara took a few seconds to collect her wits before replying, "Barriss Offee was my Padawan, now that affairs in the Core Worlds are becoming stable I came to see how she is doing."
"Really?" Asajj asked doubtfully. "You've come quite a ways, You couldn't simply talk to her over the hypercom? Tom Joad does have one, you know."
"Yes, I know, I have spoken to her over the hypercom, fairly regularly, and she has seemed happy enough. But that can't replace actually seeing her face to face."
"No, I suppose not." Asajj looked pensive for a moment before shaking off her thought. "I'm afraid Barriss is busy at the moment," then grinned again when Luminara's cheeks flamed ... again. "But you already knew that."
What is wrong with you!? Why are you blushing like an initiate being told what all those odd feelings and new obsessions are actually about? It's not like Barriss joining the Bond is actually a surprise! But in spite of the blush Luminara kept her expression serene as she released her embarrassment into the Force. "Yes, I knew through the faint remnant of the bond I once shared with her. It was a bit of a surprise, she left that out of our hypercom conversations."
Asajj barked a laugh. "Are you surprised?"
"No, I can't say that I am. Now I'm just wondering how long it's been." Luminara hesitated a moment, then shrugged. "May I ask how you aren't dead?"
"Hmmm." Asajj considered her for a moment, then glanced to one side and shrugged herself. "They'll probably be at it for awhile longer, why don't you meet me at Dex's Diner and we can talk. It's on the south edge of the landing bays."
"Dex's Diner? Dex Jettster? I thought you—The Ghost of Tom Joad, rather—took him, his equipment, and his employees when it left Coruscant for Naboo."
"It did. He decided Naboo was too quiet and civilized for him, and asked Anakin if he could come along when the Bond left Naboo for the Outer Rim. Some of his employees came with him."
"All right, I'll meet you there as soon as I lock down my ship."
/\
The woman Luminara was sitting across in a booth as far from the doors to outside and kitchen that Dex's Diner had was not the woman she had been expecting. Asajj Ventress had been a dangerous enemy and then an ocassional uncertain ally of the Jedi Order until her death saving Quinlan Voss's life. But when Luminara had encountered her as a Sith apprentice, one thing she had always been was angry. The Asajj Ventress sitting across from her carving up a still-bleeding steak (from what animal Luminara couldn't imagine and wasn't sure she wanted to try, out here) was ... not serene, by any stretch of the imagination, but ... calm, accepting. A woman that Luminara might actually trust at her back in a battle, if she could trust her not to put the lightsaber on her belt through it.
And she was a woman who knew how off-balance she had Luminara, and was thoroughly enjoying it. She finished chewing her latest bite of almost-raw meat and grinned at her. "You really ought to have tried this."
Luminara shook her head. "It's a bit pricey, the Order is trying to keep expenses down in these times."
Asajj's eyebrows rose at that comment, and Luminara hid a wince—if the Order was being that stingy with its expenses, then her trip to the Outer Rim clearly wasn't out of personal pleasure. But the Nightsister let it pass, simply shrugging. "It's pricey because it's from a local carnivore ... a rather large carnivore, with hide and skull thick enough to need a heavy blaster—or a lightsaber—to take down. I've been supplementing our income by hunting them, this steak might be from the one I hauled in yesterday." She took another bite with evident enjoyment that had Luminara feeling just a little jealous—the Order's meals had been very basic since the Shattering—and waited until her guest had some more of her greens (admittedly, delicious in their own way with some unusual spices that Luminara assumed were also local) then said, "So, about what you asked before we came here." She took the last bite of her steak and leaned back, her eyes losing focus as she gazed into the past as she chewed and swallowed. "Do you know where they buried me after I died?"
Luminara frowned thoughtfully as she tried to remember ... then used a Force technique to dredge up the details of a vaguely recalled conversation. "On Dathomir, in the waters of your tribe."
"Yes, waters infused with the power of the Mother, the substance we used to create the Water of Life. It seems the Mother decided I wasn't done yet. I woke up in the pool." She grinned. "Then almost drowned as soon as I woke up. The Mother has no place for weaklings. After that ..." She shrugged. "I had no direction why the Mother thought I still have a part to play. I made my way off Dathomir, learned of the chaos the galaxy had fallen into, wasn't sure I would survive letting the Jedi Order know I lived again, but making a living as a bounty hunter had lost any attraction it might have had. Then I heard about the Youxia Bond, and that Ahsoka Tano was a part of it, and decided to look them up."
"And they just took you in, made you part of the Bond?" Luminara asked, disbelieving.
"No, not a chance," Asajj replied with a laugh. "Ahsoka might owe me, respect me, even be willing to trust me, but she doesn't like me, not that much. Anakin even less so except for maybe trust. I was actually surprised that they were willing to trust me enough to allow me to share a ship with their children.
"Besides, even if they'd offered I would have turned them down. How's Quinlan Voss been doing?"
"He's been well, if not happy. He wasn't serving as a general when Sidious activated Order 67, but he's been busy since." Luminara considered her former enemy thoughtfully. Quinlan Voss had been busy, taking on the most dangerous, secretive, and now that she thought about it lonely missions he could. Voss could well be suicidal, at least as suicidal as a Jedi was likely to get. But Asajj ... Hesitantly, she asked, "Are you thinking about looking him up, now that the Order will know you're alive?"
Asajj grinned. "Do you think I ought to, add another couple for the Order to be all scandalized over? And Quinlan not even leaving the Order like Anakin did! I doubt you could afford to expel him, even if he is getting all attachy."
" 'Attachy'? You've been hanging around Ahsoka too long. And you didn't answer my question."
The grin vanished. "No, I didn't." Asajj stared down at her empty plate for a long moment, her emotions—perky and lighthearted a moment before—roiling so much Luminara couldn't pick out one among the mix ... except for a deep longing that surrounded and encompassed all the rest. When Asajj lifted her head, her eyes shone with unshed tears. "No, I won't. If Quinlan came here, joined the Tom Joad if not the Bond, I would be overjoyed. But he ... I ... both of us, have been lost in the Dark. Together alone, we would spiral down into the Void and be lost forever—to each other as much as everyone else. And he won't come here. The Order is his home and his duty, and he will not abandon it ... not with things as they are."
Luminara scrambled for something to say that wouldn't sound trite, when she sensed her former Padawan's sudden shock through the shadow of their bond, mixed with embarrassment almost as strong as her earlier lust.
Asajj was talking on her com, before closing it and placing it back in its holder on her belt. "They're done."
"I know." Luminara's cheeks were burning again, if not as strongly as before. "I'll be happy to see Barriss again ... if we can haul her out from under the blankets she'll be hiding in and out of her cabin."
Asajj chortled all the way back to the landing bays.