"Good, good." Lord Shastine peered into each bin, nodding with approval.

"There is only this," Skiro said. He held out the tablet that Mordivai had found a day earlier. "I think it's old Sith, but I wasn't sure. I will find you someone to translate it if you wish, my lord."

Mordivai bit his tongue. He was not supposed to speak unless spoken to, but if Lord Shastine found out that he was useful to her in other ways, perhaps he would get more challenging work. It might even be worth the inevitable punishment from Skiro.

"I can read and translate old Sith, my lord."

Skiro spun around, his eyes flashing. "You have spoken out of turn, slave." He bolted forward and Mordivai flinched in preparation for the blow, but Lord Shastine threw out her hand and Skiro stumbled backward as if she had pushed him.

"Did you know this Skiro? That my slave has this skill?"

"No, my lord. It was not listed among his skills when I purchased him. He could be lying."

"Or maybe you were just lax in making sure this slave was put to the most efficient use. I am displeased with you."

"I'm s-sorry, my lord. I-"

A bright flash of light emanated from Shastine's fingertips and Skiro jerked backwards, his body briefly enveloped in a web of bright lightning.

"Go outside and wait for me."

He scurried out. Shastine watched him leave, then turned her eyes on Mordivai.

"You will translate this tablet for me. However long it takes. Then you will come to me and show me your work."

"Yes, my lord."

She held out the tablet and Mordivai took it. Her cheeks broke into rosy dimples as she flashed him a smile.

"I look forward to seeing what you discover."

She left and Mordivai crept over to the wall. There was a missing bolt in the metal plates here that he sometimes used as a peep hole. He pressed his eye against it now and looked out. Skiro was kneeling at Lord Shastine's feet, staring at his clasped hands. Mordivai couldn't hear his words, but he appeared to be speaking urgently and with feeling. Shastine tossed her head dismissively, said something, and then turned and walked away. Skiro dropped his head into his hands and then slowly got to his feet to follow her. Mordivai recalled what Ai'lanynn had said about Skiro. What was their relationship exactly?

Mordivai sat next at his worktable with the tablet in front of him. Chunks of the tablet were broken off and missing, which would make translation difficult, and Mordivai was rusty. It had been years since he had read old Sith. He stared at the tablet and the words swarmed before his eyes. There was Force power in this artifact, and Mordivai wondered if a non-Force sensitive could even read it at all. Did Lord Shastine know this? It was a moot point now. Mordivai would do what she asked. The consequences were out of his control.

He lightly touched the tablet, feeling the tingle of power within it rising as if summoned. A dark, seductive energy infused it, and Mordivai leaned forward, staring at the ancient letters which seemed to dance and glow the more he studied them. "The dark, ancient power of the Sith is dangerous to harness," he heard Master Gatten's voice repeating in his head. "It will twist your mind and your heart. Be careful what you think you long for, Mordivai."

Mordivai sat back and took a few deep breaths. His job was to translate, nothing more.

For hours he lost himself in his work. It felt good at first to exercise his brain again doing something worthy of his intellect. As night fell, however, he began to grow tired. Skiro would have him up early in the morning as always, and his days were long. He grew nervous, hoping he could finish before his mind became too hazy for coherent thought. He had to stop and go over his work again from the beginning when he realized that he had been mistranslating a word, and then was forced to check to make sure he hadn't confused any other meanings. At last, he felt the work was finished, or to the best of his ability anyway. It would have to be enough.

He rose from the table. It was late, very late. But Lord Shastine had said to come to her immediately. He waffled with indecision, debating how to interpret her instructions. He finally decided that a literal interpretation would be best. He approached the workshop door. Would it even be unlocked?

It was.

He stepped out into the night, feeling the air blanket him in its humid heat. The grass left dew on his sandals and dampness on his toes as he crept across the wide lawn. The house stood like an imposing fortress at the far end, the few lights from inside lighting the windows like eyes. He stepped up the porch stairs, his sandals scuffing softly against each step. He stood uncertainly at the door. There was a button there to ring for entrance. His finger hovered over it a moment and then he pressed it.

There was no sound, indeed no sign at all that his presence had been announced to anyone, but after a few moments the door opened and Ai'lanynn stood on the other side, blinking sleepily at him. Behind her, he could see a small tangle of blankets where she slept by the door.

"Mordivai!" Her eyes were wide and her voice hushed. "Did the lord summon you?"

"She did."

"I'll let her know you are here then. Come in and wait by the door."

Mordivai stepped inside. It was dark and it took for few moments for several large, hulking shadows to resolve themselves into furniture. Ai'lanynn padded quietly away and Mordivai was left alone. He waited, idly studying a painting that appeared to depict one of the many tombs on Korriban. A creaking on the floor nearby redirected his attention and he looked over to see Ai'lanynn waving him in.

"Lord Shastine will see you now. Up the lift and to the right."

Mordivai followed her directions, then turned and approached a door that he now recognized as the one he had been to on his first visit into the manor. Lord Shastine's bedroom.

Before he could raise his hand to engage the intercom, there was a quiet scuffling to his left. He turned and saw Skiro outlined in the shadows. He was shirtless and leaning over a side table, supporting himself with his arms. He looked up, and Mordivai was startled to see that Skiro was shaking noticeably, his arms twitching. Skiro met his eyes briefly and then looked away.

"She is expecting you," he said, his voice sounding strangely thick and slow. "Better get to it."

Mordivai nodded and hit the intercom switch. "I am here with the tablet my lord."

There was a brief moment of silence and then the door swished open. Mordivai reluctantly stepped inside.

Lord Shastine was sitting in bed wearing a frilly night robe and slippers, her hair a halo of tossed curls. She beamed at him and beckoned him closer, letting out a squeal of delight.

"Oh! I hope you have something exciting for me. Hurry up now, and bring it over."

Mordivai stepped closer, stopping at the edge of the bed, then held out the tablet in one hand, and the datapad with his translation with the other. She set the tablet next to her on the bed and snatched up the datapad, gripping it with both hands and looking it over hungrily. "Ohhh," she breathed. "This is magnificent."

Mordivai waited uncomfortably while she poured over the datapad, a childlike grin stretching across her face. "Yes, yes, it's exactly what I thought. Oh, this is...this is just grand!" She looked up, her eyes shining. She set down the datapad and rose from the bed. Mordivai began to back away.

"Stay where you are slave. I want to get a better look at you."

Mordivai bowed his head and resisted the urge to shrink away as she came close. She stretched up on the tips of her toes, studying him far too closely for comfort.

"Take down your hair."

Mordivai's hair had not been cut in nearly a year, and was now past his shoulders. He normally kept it clipped back at the nape of his neck, but now he slowly reached back and released the clasp.

Shastine breathed a sigh of pleasure, reaching up next to run her hands through his hair, pulling it forward and fanning it out across his shoulders.

"Where did you get your beautiful red hair, I wonder?" There was a new tone in her voice that Mordivai did not like.

"You can read old Sith...you have this wonderful Sith-red hair. I wonder...just wonder now...in the back of my mind...if you are hiding something from me." The edge in her voice was growing sharper. "Where is that accent from anyway? I cannot place it. Not Imperial. But not Republic either."

"My-my parents travelled a lot with me when I was a child. My mother has red hair too."

"And where did you learn to read old Sith? Surely not in the Republic."

"I...I knew a Pureblood...who defected." That much was true at least. "He taught me."

"Hmm. Interesting. You are a little mystery. I wonder what other skills you have been keeping from me?"

Mordivai was spared the agony of fashioning a reply. Lord Shastine pivoted on her heel fast as a blur and waved her arm at the door. It slid open with a bang.

"Skiro," she said. "Stop lurking against the door and come join us. You'll get a better view this way." She smirked and Skiro stumbled forward, his face dark with embarrassment at having been caught eavesdropping. He inched into the room and stood against the far wall, his eyes wide as a gizka's.

Shastine turned back to Mordivai. "Dear Ras'kir'oan here-" Mordivai assumed that was Skiro's full name, "-is being punished. He is twice the man that you are," she raked her eyes down Mordivai's body, "and you are barely out of boyhood. But he needs to be taught a lesson. And I am curious now. So curious."

Her long fingers, made even longer by her painted nails, eased open the buttons on Mordivai's shirt. She snaked a hand underneath the fabric, caressing him and pushing the shirt off his shoulders. Mordivai suppressed a shiver as her nails lightly drew circles over his skin. She giggled.

"My, you are a skinny thing! Is every part of you so, hmm, long and sinuous?" Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and she gave Mordivai a searing look of such naked desire that he jerked backward.

His shirt fell to the floor, nearly tripping him. Shastine snatched at the beltline of his pants, her fingers curling inside his waistband, and yanked him forward. Her pretty face puckered into a pout.

"You don't need to be afraid," she said, her voice girlish and sweet like candy. Too sweet, Mordivai thought, too teasing, and he wondered if she meant the opposite of what she said. Mordivai snuck a glance at Skiro huddled in the corner. His eyes were wide, his face clearly pained. He is infatuated with her, Mordivai realized. And terrified. Of what exactly? Shastine must have caught the direction of Mordivai's gaze, because she paused and turned to look at Skiro as well.

"Get on the bed, Skiro."

Skiro's throat bobbed visibly as he swallowed and suddenly he threw himself prostrate on the floor.

"My lord," he said, his voice cracking, "please don't do this. Not with the slave here. I beg you."

"Oh, you'll be begging all right." Shastine tittered and then turned back to Mordivai. "This is Skiro's punishment, remember. Just do as I say, and we'll make him squeal."

From behind her, Mordivai caught a glimpse of Skiro moving across the floor towards the bed, his shoulders slumped. Mordivai shifted his gaze and saw Shastine watching him.

"Oh, you sweet, innocent thing," she said, cupping his cheek. "You don't understand, do you?"

Mordivai froze, afraid to even move. Shastine was rubbing her hand along the outside of his pants, coaxing him to life with her touch, making his body a traitor to his will.

"Don't you want to see Skiro laid low? After all he's done to you...He enjoys tormenting you, you know. But now it's your turn."

From the bed Mordivai heard Skiro choke out a groan.

Skiro seemed to know what awaited him. Had Shastine done this to him before? What was Mordivai's role going to be in all this? He had assumed at first that she wanted to bed him and make Skiro watch, but now he suspected that she had something even more sinister in mind, or would she be the one doing the watching?

He was easing backwards again. "I can't…I can't do this…" He feared to raise his voice above a whisper.

Shastine pressed against him, her hand slipping inside the waistband of his pants and down between his legs.

"Oh, yes you can. Your body proves that well enough." She smirked and gave him a knowing look from under her lashes. Then she raised her voice to call to Skiro behind her. "Take off your clothes, Ras'kir'oan." She turned back to Mordivai, her face eager.

"You too…" She began to push his pants down off his waist.

Mordivai didn't realize that he was still moving backwards until he bumped his back against the wall.

"No," he said. Then louder, "I won't."

Shastine laughed. "You dare refuse me? Do you have a death wish?"

"I won't do this."

Her laugh died on her lips and a fire kindled in her eyes. She bit her lip and frowned. "You will regret saying that, slave."

Pain lit into Mordivai's every limb and he grit his teeth to stifle a cry. Lightning streaked over his body, the sizzle of it loud in his ears. There was a brief pause, which Mordivai used to catch his breath, and then it started again. Mordivai slipped to his knees, and then to his hands, and finally he curled up on the floor, knowing that sounds were coming out of his mouth, but unable to hear his own cries.

You are a Jedi! a voice chided him. Defend yourself!

Mordivai forced his eyes to open. Shastine was standing over him, her face stilled into a grimace, light streaking from her fingertips. Force power gathered within him, a light to counteract her darkness, building to a crescendo. Mordivai gasped for breath, mustering his strength, and threw out his hand, directing all his power at Shastine.

She was lifted off her feet, the lightning dying from her hands as she was caught in a bubble of Force energy, her face frozen in a look of shock and rage. It had been so long since Mordivai had called upon the Force that the feeling was draining and more of an effort than he had been expecting. He felt his conviction wavering, and then his hold on Shastine let go, dumping her into a heap on the floor.

She screamed in rage and Mordivai reached out with his mind for the first thing he saw - a hairbrush lying on her dresser. He flung his hand from the brush towards Shastine and it jumped from the bureau, sailed through the air, and smacked her in the back of the head. Emboldened, Mordivai began hurling everything his Force power could lift at her: shoes, a small statue on her nightstand, a footstool. She threw her hands over her head as objects pelted her from all sides, shrieking in surprise.

Then Mordiavi saw something else - her lightsaber sitting on a nearby desk. He called it to him, vaulted to his feet and ignited the blade with a hum.

"You trickster!" Shastine spat, her voice dripping with unbridled hate. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Mordivai gripped the hilt of the lightsaber, brandishing it before him and reading his stance. "I am Mordivai Quinn, of the Jedi Order, and a slave to you no longer!"

She laughed. "Are you what passes for a Jedi these days?" Without warning, an arc of lightning forked out from her fingertips and Mordivai blocked the assault with the blade. Again and again it came, and Mordivai felt himself moving into a zone of heightened concentration, his mind anticipating her moves and his reflexes taking over. Her face twisted furiously, and Shastine spun and threw out her hand towards the bed. Another lightsaber flew out from under her pillow and shot into her hand.

The red glow of the saber lit her cheeks in crimson. "Go ahead. Take me on, little Jedi." There was something horrific about the sneer on her cherubic face. "I dare you."

Mordivai lunged forward and she met his swing blade against blade. Mordivai was constrained by the size of the room, distracted by the furniture and by Skiro kneeling gape-eyed on the bed. Shastine jolted him with shocks of power, her face gleeful. The after-effects of her electric barrage made Mordivai's muscles twitch, adversely affecting his control. His mind briefly flashed to the image of Skiro shaking outside her door. Had often had Lord Shastine been abusing him?

Focus, he reminded himself. He tried to recall all his teachings, all the combat sessions he'd had with Master Gatten, all the times Master Praven had pushed him to his limit in duels. The Sith woman on the Esseles had almost beaten him and he would not allow that to happen again. Shastine was out to kill him and Mordivai was determined to fight for his life.

Mordivai was rusty in his skills, and he felt vulnerable. He was fighting in a room that was never designed for combat. Use the terrain to your advantage, he heard Praven telling him. If it's awkward for you, it's awkward for your opponent as well. Shastine was stalking him in a circle, trying to corner him on the side of the room farthest away from the door. The lightsaber spun in his hands, blurring in a swirl of red, and he pushed forward, striking hard and fast like a viper, forcing Shastine onto the defensive. Gatten had often cautioned him against his preference for flashy moves, but this time, it was effective. Shastine was taken off guard, clear surprise registering on her face, and she took repeated steps backwards. Behind her, Mordivai spotted his discarded shirt on the floor, and he thrust a sudden low cut towards her thigh, forcing her to side-step sharply. Her foot tangled in his shirt, and she blundered into the wall. Mordivai let out a cry, swinging fast, and the tip of his saber caught Shastine on the cheek, an unbelievably close call. She slapped a hand to her face in shock.

Shastine's eyes flicked to the ceiling, and then she pointed a long red nail into the air. There was a sharp pop, and sparks rained down on his head, plunging the room into semi-darkness. Mordivai jumped back, barely dodging a swing aimed for his middle. He twisted on his toes and struck out at her with his opposite foot, swinging hard. The kick knocked her off balance and she fell onto her rump. There was a bureau behind her, and Mordivai yanked it towards her with Force power. It toppled over, but Shastine rolled away seconds before it hit the floor with a resounding crash.

A flash of light seared across Mordivai's vision then and he felt himself lifted off the floor, the room spinning violently around him, his limbs crackling under a web of Force lightning. For a moment he was helpless, and he expected a killing blow to come at him any moment. Then he was dropped to the floor.

Shastine was shrugging out of her night robe, freeing her arms from the sleeves for better movement. Mordivai gathered Force power in his hands and shot it at her with all his will. She was thrown backwards, clear out the door, where she hit the hallway wall. Her face contorted into a grimace of hate and she made a grabbing motion with her hand. Mordivai felt himself gripped by unseen power and then he was yanked off his feet and propelled towards her. He was headed straight for the outstretched end of her lightsaber, a piercing thrust that would surely be fatal.

Mordivai threw out his arms and arched his back, deliberately forcing himself into a backwards fall. He hit the floor, still moving, and slid at Shastine's legs, his heels slapping against the wall on either side of her feet. Her face flashed with a wicked smile and she stomped her foot towards his groin. Mordivai shot a wave of Force power directly upwards and her head snapped back as if slapped. He rolled out of the way and leapt to his feet.

He didn't see the next thing coming. A jolt of sheer Force power blew him off his feet and he flew backwards through the air. The walls of the hallway sped past him and then he was shot out an open balcony door. He had a second to feel lucky that the glass door was open, because he surely would have been cut into ribbons otherwise, but then he saw the balcony railing fly past underneath him as he was blown clear out of the building.

Oh shit.

He tucked his legs against his abdomen, forcing his body into a mid-air tumble. His feet swung into position underneath him just as he hit the ground.

Shastine was standing at the balcony's edge, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

"Die Jedi!" she shrieked.

A barrage of lightning streaked towards him, and Mordivai had only a second to reignite his lightsaber and thrust it before his face to block it.

The lightning paused as she readied her power for another blast and Mordivai decided to push ahead with an attack of his own. He began ripping metal roof tiles off the top of the building and hurling them at her like a rain of blaster fire. When she threw up her hands to shield herself, he pulled her forward with the Force, tipping her body over the balcony railing. She flailed a moment, her arms wheeling in the air, and then she toppled and fell.

She tried to force her body into a spin like he had, but her balance was off and she landed awkwardly, one leg buckling underneath her. Her face deformed into a grimace and she held out her hands to strike him with Force lightning again. Her fingertips sparked ineffectually and then the power died from her hands.

Mordivai walked forward and held his lightsaber under her chin. It was over.

Suddenly, his head burst into a rays of pain. Blinding, teeth-clenching pain. Something hit him and he was thrown backwards in the dirt. Standing over him was the shape of a man, his thumb poised over a shock collar button. Skiro.

"You bastard," Mordivai managed.

Skiro's smirk was triumphant, the sole of his boot still planted in the middle of Mordivai's chest. He glanced at Shastine. "The kill is yours, my lord."

Mordivai almost didn't recognize Lord Shastine's voice, it was so distorted by pain. But the mirth was there even still.

"No. I want this one to stay a slave. My little Jedi slave." She sputtered a high-pitched laugh. "Get me a Force-dampening collar, Skiro."

As Mordivai lay in the dirt, Ai'lanynn's words came back to him. She owns him, body and soul. He stared into Shastine's wild-eyed countenance and saw madness there. And he was afraid.

Happy Holidays, everyone!