Gràinne had been sent on her first off-world solo mission. Tatooine to be specific. She was on an intel gathering mission and to purchase a black-market lightsaber of two to help their growing numbers. A handful of their followers were Force-sensitive and were being trained as acolytes, although not official apprentices, not yet at least. Ironically Dooku was intending to restructure the New Brotherhood of Darkness after the Jedi Order, a leading council mostly democratically elected among those achieving the rank of Darth, although he would retain the rank of Emperor and Serpeness his heir apparent, a tiebreaker vote on the Dark Council and absolute commanders of their military wing. Apprentices killing their masters would be a thing of the past, at least if he could help it, such wastefulness was pointless and had led to so much knowledge of the Dark Side being lost forever.
Her armor glinted in the light of the twin suns. Here it was more for show, she'd have to eventually replace it with Damascus steel if she could, or maybe one the fancier space metals around here. Gràinne tightened her cloak about her and entered into some form of establishment, possibly a tavern, the smell certainly reminded her of a tavern, honestly some of the creatures in here she hadn't even seen on Coruscant. What was that big furry monster with the tiny tube for a mouth and four big black eyes? Was that a bat man? That short guy with a hood looks normal enough. However he didn't seem to be very welcome, as the bartender was actively deriding him.
"Kriffing Jawas! We don't serve your kind here! Damned pests!" the rather rotund Rodian male kept shouting, swatting at the little hooded man, apparently a "Jawa," with a broom. The echoes of her own past rang in her montrals as the Jawa held up his hands trying to protect his head. Several of the patrons were laughing at him as he cowered in fear. A particularly drunk Twi'lek chucked his… something at him, covering his robes in the drink.
She didn't know what the little man was saying, except a few broken words: "No steal! No steal!" and "Help! Help!" Her scarred montral in particular burned with memories of abuse suffered at the hands of those who rejected her for her appearance. She ground her teeth, she was told to not make a scene, but she was also told to do whatever she thought was right, that a Sith should always follow their own heart. Her heart was racing, raging. Stepping between the barkeep and the Jawa, she gave the Rodian a simple command, "Leave. Him. Alone."
"Or what?" the Rodian scoffed, "You love those thieving little vermin so much you get out too!" He swung the broom down towards her head, only for it to stop a few inches above her montrals. Splintering the handle with the Force, she rammed the end now broken off into the Rodian's skull, spraying his blueish blood and brain matter across the floor.
"I warned ya," she declared, slipping back to her highland accent for a moment, before stooping to the Jawa, "Are ya alright lad?"
The Jawa nodded before pointing behind her and screaming. Gràinne quickly drew her darksaber and sliced through three thugs trying to sneak up behind her. Anyone else having thoughts of blasting her quickly changed their mind as the weapon hummed, silencing the crowd. They had heard rumors of Count Dooku and a Dark Jedi with a black blade taking down the criminal syndicates running Mandalore, and nobody in their right mind, or drunk mind, wanted to get involved with them. The Togruta female stooped to help the Jawa up, asking, "Can you understand me?"
The Jawa nodded, "I-I talk Basic… a little," he managed to sputter out. "Thank you."
"Can you show me where I can buy some materials?"
"Oh! Buy, buy! Me follow!" the little hooded man grabbed her by the hand and led her out of the tavern.
A distance outside of town, quite the distance in fact as her new friend, apparently named Keblinii, told her that Jawas weren't allowed into town, people were afraid they'd steal everything even though his tribe were honest salesmen and never stole anything that had a living owner. Trash found next to a corpse in the sand, well that was free game according to the local laws. She saw a massive vehicle with several of the little hooded Jawas milling about, with all manner of machinery, droids, and even a few starships surrounding them. Her little friend began chittering in… some kind of language, which brought several of the Jawas bolting towards her, jabbering all types of incomprehensible nonsense at her which the first Jawa didn't even try to translate, instead relaying what sounded like their recent meeting to his tribesmen. Or possibly he was trying to ask for directions, she had no idea. A few of the smallest Jawas, possibly children, gathered around her and started to touch her armor. Removing her helm, she showed them her face and smiled as she stooped down to eye-level, or almost eye-level with them, showing her friendly intentions.
After a few hours with the Jawas she finally unveiled her purpose in coming to the planet, igniting her darksaber, "I need more of these. Do you understand? I'll pay you a lot of money."
Even if they didn't speak her language, they all understood the word "Money." Jawas ran around trying to find materials that could be fashioned into a knock-off lightsaber, with a few particularly zealous ones climbing a junk pile to search from top to bottom. Unfortunately for them, however, the trash heap wasn't exactly stable and the pile toppled, taking them down with it and came close to flattening Keblinii. Much to Gràinne's surprise, when her new friend screamed in terror, the trash stopped in mid-air, prompting the Jawas to look over at the littlest Jawa in their midst, at least the littlest not swaddled in a bundle of blankets and old robes. He gently set the other Jawas and their precious garbage out of harm's way, being surprised at Gràinne's applause.
Looking at Keblinii, she asked "Who is he?"
"Me son. Only son."
"I can teach him to use his talents," she tried to explain, getting only a blank stare in response. Gesturing and speaking slower, she tried to make herself understood better, "Me… teach. Him. To use. Force," at the last word she lifted a starship with the Force to demonstrate what the Force-sensitive Jawa might be capable of one day soon. "He come home, often." She didn't want anyone else to have to be torn away from their families, so have to sit by helpless on another planet as everyone they knew and loved were slaughtered.
Keblinii walked over to his son, his only son, the last connection he had to his late wife, and asked in Jawaese, "Poblithes…"
"Yes father?"
"You, you might have an opportunity to make a name for yourself in this galaxy…"
"What about you? What about the tribe?"
"We are already where we will be for the rest of our lives Poblithes. You know that. The rest of the galaxy doesn't take kindly to our race, any hope for us to advance beyond mere junk traders is null… You though. You, my precious boy, you have a gift," Keblinii put his hands on his son's shoulders, "Use it. You were given this by the gods, why I don't know, but you Poblithes, you can truly make something of yourself. Show the galaxy what an honest, hard-working Jawa can do."
"I understand, but will I ever see you again?"
"Our Togruta friend says you can visit often, and we'll always be in touch. You have the commlink I gave you for your life day?"
"Yes father."
"And the knife you received for your coming of age?"
"Always."
"Good," Keblinii's eyes welled with tears underneath his hood, hidden behind the gemstones they used for goggles. Hugging his son, he looked to the Togruta female and nodded his blessing.
Blaster shots fired around them as the war cries of Tuskens sounded. The Jawas scrambled for shelter and weapons while Serpeness donned her mask, "This is where the fun begins!" she cackled in full Scottish accent. Igniting her darksaber once more she leapt into battle, bisecting a raider before she unleashed a storm of Lightning into the four around her. Jawa blasters sounded behind her, causing losses among the attackers, who numbered at least fifty. Pushing the front ranks back with the force, she swapped to Form III, Soresu, to deflect as many shots as she could back at the Tuskens.
The Ghorfa raiders were in a mad panic at the sight of the darksaber, legends circulated among their people of how an entire tribe was exterminated in a single night by a demon with a flaming sword, and the lightning only heightened their fear. The shamans have never mentioned that! The scouts had said this Jawa tribe would be easy pickings for a slave raid! They were trying to kill them! Fleeing in panic, a handful were grabbed by an invisible hand of the demon and strangled before their compatriots, who scrambled away in absolute terror.
The Jawas who weren't outside with blasters peaked out as the Tuskens fled. Lifting up a cheer in celebration of driving off the raid, Keblinii grabbed Gràinne's hand and gestured for her to take a ship, any ship from around their sand crawler. They owed her at least that much. She tried to refuse the admittedly quite kind offer but Keblinii was having none of it, or just didn't understand the English words "No thank you." Finally accepting the gift, the student, and whatever scrap they had that could be forged into an array of lightsabers, Gràinne gave them as much money as they would take. Keblinii, apparently the tribal leader, outright refused until she made it clear she wasn't leaving without paying them, defense of their people or no. The Jawa father and son hugged once again and the Jawas happily waved their goodbyes to both Poblithes and their new friend and savior, Gràinne McGuffin."
Looking at the Jawa in the copilot seat, she asked, with a plethora of gestures, "Can you fly this?"
"Yep, yep!"
"Good. I have another ship already." Taking a look at the designation codes to find a name or number for the ship, nodding after finding them, she called her Master.
Dooku was perplexed. He knew for a fact that Séamus had died, hence Gràinne's initial turn dark, yet here he was, sitting across from him, eating ham. "So, tell me again what happened," Dooku requested, "I'm still not sure I understand how the hell you're still alive." Realizing his tone he backpedaled slightly, "Don't get me wrong! Harming you was the furthest thing from my intentions, but I don't know how you managed to live through having a sword in your chest and ended up back on this planet."
"Tha' green lady who found me wee Gràinne in tha first place saved me somehow, I think. Some fish-looking oaf dropped me back here afterwards. Damned long-necked freak took me blood for some forsaken reason."
"Ok" Dooku muttered, more to himself than to Séamus, "seems like that's about all I'm going to get. Well, I take it you want to see your fiancé?"
"Aye! I thought she was dead for months!"
"Well she should be back in a few days' time. I had her run an errand for me." Just then, his commlink beeped, bringing a smile to his face, "Serpeness, I have good news for you, and I hope you have some for me… wait, why is there a Jawa next to you?"
"What? *kzzt* Master I *kzzt* stand ye *kzzt*" Of course, short-range comms tended to have terrible connections over long ranges, and of course Tatooine was just out of effective range.
After an hour of fritz-y holo-communications, Dooku decided it would be more hassle than was worth to reveal to her that her lover yet lived, to which Séamus reluctantly agreed. She tried to relay the results of her mission to him, but he only understood half of it. Closing the comms he couldn't help but ask aloud, "What the hell is an aluminum falcon?"
A/N: Chag Chanukah sameach! Tonight is the first night of Chanukah and the beginning of the end of Ahsoka's Twin. Have no ideas for an actual title of the next phase of the story, only the setting and general plotline. Also, five points to whoever can guess what Gràinne's new ship is actually called, hint it's not the "Aluminum Falcon."