1
"We've gotten all of the fighters analyzed, sir," the voice of the brown haired major was soft yet not at all feminine. Admiral Tarika looked up from the readings for a moment and nodded faintly. Whether she was really listening or not, Major Daghtsun could not tell. "There does seem to be evidence of unusual scoring patterns." He paused again noting that the admiral's gaze seemed to be fixed on the heap of twisted metal as if she were trying to take in every detail to memory. "Admiral Tarika?" he asked quietly, a frown spreading across his pale features. "Are you not well?" Very few of the admiral's crew-members would dare be so bold as to worry openly about her wellbeing, Everett Daughtsun was one of the few.
Admiral Tarika looked up again, her blue eyes studying his face with an almost blank expression for a moment. Obviously her mind was elsewhere. "No, I'm fine Everett," she said, her voice sounding more tired than anything else, "I was just thinking is all." She had called him Everett. That was still more proof something was wrong. It wasn't as if she never spoke to the major in such a familiar way, but when she did usually it was not while they were discussing important matters.
Major Daghtsun nodded and turned his attention back to the schematics he was discussing - or supposedly discussing - with the Admiral. A discussion usually had more than one side to it, but he wasn't going to raise a big fuss about it. Tarik was involved, and everyone who knew the Admiral knew that egg shells must be walked upon when discussing him. It wasn't just that Macy Tarika had been married to Tarik either, everyone knew that as well. Seven years of the Admiral's life had been spent with that man, and for naught but such a swift and final betrayal. No one should have to go through that. Surely they could give the woman just a little leeway where emotions were concerned.
"Everett," Tarika interrupted abruptly,"could we maybe do this later? I'm not feeling too well." Major Daghtsun looked at the admiral dumbfounded, but she was already turning to leave.
"Of course, Admiral," he said to her retreating form. "I will have a copy of my report sent to you presently." So much for sounding official and impressing her. Everett knew it was silly, but he did want to make a good impression on the Admiral . . . on the woman. No one could deny that she was gorgeous, not even the haughty old fashioned sticklers in high places who didn't think a woman should even wear a uniform. But at least Everett could keep his head about it, she was his commanding officer, and that was enough to keep all hormones and impending emotions in line.
Still, Major Daghtsun was worried about her. She hadn't looked good at all, perhaps he should suggest she go to medical next chance he got. Or perhaps he should stop worrying about her. The Admiral could take care of herself. They would soon catch that rat bastard Tarik and she would be just fine. Or at least he hoped so. A sinking feeling was beginning to gnaw at Everett's gut. Tarik was a master at evading all of their best laid traps and schemes. That wasn't the worst of it though, after all how did anyone go up against an Imperial Moff and remain an active sanctioned part of the empire?
***
The buzzing in Macy's head was getting worse. Maybe it was all of the anger building up. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, holding a hand up to brush her long fingers against the wall as if it might help her to slow the growing dizziness. It didn't. Another deep breath and she closed her eyes. The ship around her seemed to be spinning and she wanted it to stop.
Really she ought to be meditating, the admiral realized as she shuffled the few more steps to her door. She had been warned of the effects so many negative emotions could cause. Well, perhaps warned wasn't the word. More like she had been encouraged to feel just as bad as she wanted so that she would become all the more powerful. No deal there. If Macy Tarika was going to become powerful it was going to be through her wit and strength of character, not because of getting pissed off at one too many worthless people. They were beneath her. Tarik was beneath her. She walked through the door to her quarters and sighed as it slid shut behind her. Yes, she should meditate.
Flopping down cross-legged on her boring gray bed, the admiral closed her eyes. One deep breath in, one deep breath out. That was how it started. She focused on the breathing - in through the nose, out through the mouth, calm, relaxed - and she could feel the tension drain out of her shoulders.
This was most certainly not one of the meditations she had learned as a small child. Those would only have caused the anger to boil up inside of her until it reached the point where she couldn't hold it in anymore. Then she would have burst light fixtures or windows. No, this was something more calm, nicer and much, much more comfortable.
For a short time, the breathing seemed to be all that there was, slowly lifting her shoulders and letting them fall. Almost as if it were rocking her into a more relaxed state, like the waves of some ocean rising and falling. Then Macy's awareness seemed to expand. Each breath brought a new piece of her ship into focus. She could feel the presence of everyone on her ship by now and her consciousness drifted among them almost like a ghost hanging close to the ceiling or in the shadowy corners. None of her crew seemed to notice, and that was well enough, had they made any twitch in her direction Macy would have to have them interrogated and dealt with properly. Force sensitive people weren't quite welcome in the empire. That she herself was still alive and unafraid of being killed spoke quite a bit to her family's importance.
The quiet ocean of energy seemed to swirl around Macy moving in and out of her lungs and filling her entire being with a sort of glowing awareness. The outside of the ship was coming into consciousness now, softly and slowly, perhaps if she stayed here the whole day through she could reach out to planets or even the entire galaxy. Just that thought brought a strange cold blackness into the mix as if someone had spilled oil into the calm sea. It choked and pulled at Macy's lungs, making her dizzy as she tried to drag her awareness back into her body.
It was best not to think of things such as that when one was meditating, focus on the here and now, not on the future or your wants. The grip of that icy cold blackness was stronger by the second, and the seconds ticked by slowly seeming like days each in themselves. When finally Macy dragged in another strangled breath and her eyes opened blurrily, she felt as though she had swam for miles in freezing water. Her full lips were blue tinted and her teeth were chattering. But there was something. Something she had felt just after the dark had seeped in. During the explosion which seemed to expand her consciousness overwhelmingly while gripping at her insides and twisting about. Tarik. She had felt Tarik's presence and he was not alone.
Teeth still chattering, Macy struggled to her feet. Her body felt so heavy and cold after the ordeal. The best thing to do though was to walk it off, stay conscious or the dark would seep its way into her dreams. There had been many nights like that when Macy was younger, before she had learned to keep the dark away. She wouldn't think about that now. Best to keep the dark where it belonged; far away from her.
Who had that been though? Who had Tarik found to do his bidding, no doubt to torment her further? Tarik seemed to enjoy causing her trouble; it was like a game to him. Some people just didn't take rejection lightly. But this, this was farther than she thought her ex-husband would ever go. Unless he didn't know. The cold presence she had felt alongside Tarik's had been strong. It had opened cold blue eyes to her, more vivid than her own icy blue. It had seen her, those eyes swimming with glowing power. Macy felt dizzy again and placed a hand on the wall to keep from tipping over. She was in the hallway already and barely remembered walking there. It was time to get out of this haze and back to work.
Taking a deep breath, Admiral Tarika straightened up. She let the breath out slowly and put one foot in front of the other, slowly regaining her composure and balance. Tarik was now the least of the worries in her mind, though he was still annoying as ever. Whatever sith-spawn creature was out there, she would have to find out what or who it was before worrying about Tarik himself.
***
A small smile curved at the very corners of the young man's lips. It had been simple, almost too simple. But then everything seemed that way lately. Since he had escaped from that dreadful planet and his slavery, he had grown in power so immensely. Now it was a simple task to see beyond the ordinary and into whatever he wished.
Corot knew he should be eternally grateful to Tenevera for what she had done for him. "And I am," he said aloud letting the cool softness of his voice drift through the dark room. It was true, she had freed him in more ways than one, and he would never have to bow down before another woman again. It was almost a pity that he had been forced to kill her. Well, maybe forced was too strong a word. He couldn't have let her live surely, but no one had forced him to do what he had done. A laugh escaped from his lips at the thought, and he realized something else. He felt no remorse.
The light snapped on in the meditation chamber as he stood making him blink until his blue eyes adjusted to the light. He stretched a long cat- like stretch and shook out his limbs. The black jumpsuit that he wore allowed for quite a bit of movement, but sitting still for over an hour was something no type of clothing could make comfortable. He knew that his "employer" was waiting just outside the door. Another laugh as Corot thought of the idiot man.
One thing Corot had known since he had been just a small boy was that everyone will always try to control whoever they can. Nothing had ever happened to change that idea in his head either. Moff Tarik Jevour was certainly no exception to this rule. The man had hired Corot to aid him in tracking down his wife. A ridiculous endeavor in Corot's mind to begin with. He had agreed however to the task, but how long he would keep to this whole pretense was undetermined. The pay was good, but the power to be gained by overthrowing the Moff would be even better. He could rule. He could have whatever he wanted and nothing could stop him.
Tarik was clearly becoming impatient waiting for Corot to exit the chamber. He didn't even need to use the force to tell that. Tarik's footsteps outside were becoming restless, clearly he had taken to pacing. Corot rolled his eyes and decided to let the man wait some more, taking his time to braid his long pale blond hair. The pacing outside of the door stopped and then restarted itself. Corot paused just long enough to wait for the point when Tarik would be farthest away with his back turned before opening the door.
The tall dark haired Moff jumped slightly at the sound of the door whooshing open and turned to face Corot with a sour expression plastered across his face. "What in blazes took you so long boy?"
"These things take time, Moff Jevour." Corot said calmly his voice almost a purr. "If I were to rush things would foul up and we might end up tracking a hutt and not your lovely wife."
It seemed to take Tarik a moment to figure if the boy was being condescending. Decidedly he was. Green eyes narrowed at Corot, "I do not pay you good credits to be rude and uncouth," he shot sounding just as annoyed as he looked. "Did you find her or not?" Corot did not let the man's impatient tone bother him in the least. There was a time to let anger take over and a time to let it build. This was the building time. "If you really must ask in such a manner, yes. I did." The young man watched pleased as Tarik's face turned, going in an instant from annoyed to the look of a man who was about to get his every wish granted. "Excellent work, I knew that I was brilliant to have hired you." Corot couldn't believe what he was hearing the man say. That was probably the most conceited thing he had ever heard anyone say in the entirety of his nineteen years. Not even Tenevera had been so conceited as that. Of course Corot's experience with people was somewhat limited, but he knew even more than ever at that moment that Tarik was going to have to be put down. "What do you plan to do with her once you have her?" Corot asked smiling. The Moff seemed pleased, as though he thought Corot was smiling for the same reason he himself was. In reality the young man was smiling for a very different reason. For the last six months Corot had known exactly where Admiral Macy Tarika was located. It hadn't been in the best interests of his plans to inform the Moff of this however. He had kept her whereabouts to himself, exacting the first phases of his plan right beneath Tarik's nose. It was amusing really. The man had no idea of what Corot was doing in his name. And it wasn't as if Tarik didn't deserve it, Corot didn't like women all too much, but at least he knew how one ought to be treated until they proved unworthy. Fifteen years on Dathomir had taught him at least that much. "We simply return her to me," Tarik said in that same conceited tone. Corot wouldn't have minded just pounding the man into the ground right then. The only thing keeping him from it in fact was the fact that he had worked so hard at laying out his plans perfectly. One tiny mess up could disturb the entire balance of what he had done. "Of course," he said quietly nodding. Soon. Soon all that he had worked for would come to its brilliant culmination. Soon Corot would have everything he'd ever wanted. So what was that tiny thing nagging at the edge of his mind? Perhaps this was to be only the beginning of his journey toward completion. There was always something else. Always. Corot watched as Tarik turned and walked away down the hall followed by the two white-armored storm troopers who seemed to always be accompanying him. "Of course," he repeated to no one, and the sound dissipated into the empty hallway. Things were about to get very, very interesting.
"We've gotten all of the fighters analyzed, sir," the voice of the brown haired major was soft yet not at all feminine. Admiral Tarika looked up from the readings for a moment and nodded faintly. Whether she was really listening or not, Major Daghtsun could not tell. "There does seem to be evidence of unusual scoring patterns." He paused again noting that the admiral's gaze seemed to be fixed on the heap of twisted metal as if she were trying to take in every detail to memory. "Admiral Tarika?" he asked quietly, a frown spreading across his pale features. "Are you not well?" Very few of the admiral's crew-members would dare be so bold as to worry openly about her wellbeing, Everett Daughtsun was one of the few.
Admiral Tarika looked up again, her blue eyes studying his face with an almost blank expression for a moment. Obviously her mind was elsewhere. "No, I'm fine Everett," she said, her voice sounding more tired than anything else, "I was just thinking is all." She had called him Everett. That was still more proof something was wrong. It wasn't as if she never spoke to the major in such a familiar way, but when she did usually it was not while they were discussing important matters.
Major Daghtsun nodded and turned his attention back to the schematics he was discussing - or supposedly discussing - with the Admiral. A discussion usually had more than one side to it, but he wasn't going to raise a big fuss about it. Tarik was involved, and everyone who knew the Admiral knew that egg shells must be walked upon when discussing him. It wasn't just that Macy Tarika had been married to Tarik either, everyone knew that as well. Seven years of the Admiral's life had been spent with that man, and for naught but such a swift and final betrayal. No one should have to go through that. Surely they could give the woman just a little leeway where emotions were concerned.
"Everett," Tarika interrupted abruptly,"could we maybe do this later? I'm not feeling too well." Major Daghtsun looked at the admiral dumbfounded, but she was already turning to leave.
"Of course, Admiral," he said to her retreating form. "I will have a copy of my report sent to you presently." So much for sounding official and impressing her. Everett knew it was silly, but he did want to make a good impression on the Admiral . . . on the woman. No one could deny that she was gorgeous, not even the haughty old fashioned sticklers in high places who didn't think a woman should even wear a uniform. But at least Everett could keep his head about it, she was his commanding officer, and that was enough to keep all hormones and impending emotions in line.
Still, Major Daghtsun was worried about her. She hadn't looked good at all, perhaps he should suggest she go to medical next chance he got. Or perhaps he should stop worrying about her. The Admiral could take care of herself. They would soon catch that rat bastard Tarik and she would be just fine. Or at least he hoped so. A sinking feeling was beginning to gnaw at Everett's gut. Tarik was a master at evading all of their best laid traps and schemes. That wasn't the worst of it though, after all how did anyone go up against an Imperial Moff and remain an active sanctioned part of the empire?
***
The buzzing in Macy's head was getting worse. Maybe it was all of the anger building up. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, holding a hand up to brush her long fingers against the wall as if it might help her to slow the growing dizziness. It didn't. Another deep breath and she closed her eyes. The ship around her seemed to be spinning and she wanted it to stop.
Really she ought to be meditating, the admiral realized as she shuffled the few more steps to her door. She had been warned of the effects so many negative emotions could cause. Well, perhaps warned wasn't the word. More like she had been encouraged to feel just as bad as she wanted so that she would become all the more powerful. No deal there. If Macy Tarika was going to become powerful it was going to be through her wit and strength of character, not because of getting pissed off at one too many worthless people. They were beneath her. Tarik was beneath her. She walked through the door to her quarters and sighed as it slid shut behind her. Yes, she should meditate.
Flopping down cross-legged on her boring gray bed, the admiral closed her eyes. One deep breath in, one deep breath out. That was how it started. She focused on the breathing - in through the nose, out through the mouth, calm, relaxed - and she could feel the tension drain out of her shoulders.
This was most certainly not one of the meditations she had learned as a small child. Those would only have caused the anger to boil up inside of her until it reached the point where she couldn't hold it in anymore. Then she would have burst light fixtures or windows. No, this was something more calm, nicer and much, much more comfortable.
For a short time, the breathing seemed to be all that there was, slowly lifting her shoulders and letting them fall. Almost as if it were rocking her into a more relaxed state, like the waves of some ocean rising and falling. Then Macy's awareness seemed to expand. Each breath brought a new piece of her ship into focus. She could feel the presence of everyone on her ship by now and her consciousness drifted among them almost like a ghost hanging close to the ceiling or in the shadowy corners. None of her crew seemed to notice, and that was well enough, had they made any twitch in her direction Macy would have to have them interrogated and dealt with properly. Force sensitive people weren't quite welcome in the empire. That she herself was still alive and unafraid of being killed spoke quite a bit to her family's importance.
The quiet ocean of energy seemed to swirl around Macy moving in and out of her lungs and filling her entire being with a sort of glowing awareness. The outside of the ship was coming into consciousness now, softly and slowly, perhaps if she stayed here the whole day through she could reach out to planets or even the entire galaxy. Just that thought brought a strange cold blackness into the mix as if someone had spilled oil into the calm sea. It choked and pulled at Macy's lungs, making her dizzy as she tried to drag her awareness back into her body.
It was best not to think of things such as that when one was meditating, focus on the here and now, not on the future or your wants. The grip of that icy cold blackness was stronger by the second, and the seconds ticked by slowly seeming like days each in themselves. When finally Macy dragged in another strangled breath and her eyes opened blurrily, she felt as though she had swam for miles in freezing water. Her full lips were blue tinted and her teeth were chattering. But there was something. Something she had felt just after the dark had seeped in. During the explosion which seemed to expand her consciousness overwhelmingly while gripping at her insides and twisting about. Tarik. She had felt Tarik's presence and he was not alone.
Teeth still chattering, Macy struggled to her feet. Her body felt so heavy and cold after the ordeal. The best thing to do though was to walk it off, stay conscious or the dark would seep its way into her dreams. There had been many nights like that when Macy was younger, before she had learned to keep the dark away. She wouldn't think about that now. Best to keep the dark where it belonged; far away from her.
Who had that been though? Who had Tarik found to do his bidding, no doubt to torment her further? Tarik seemed to enjoy causing her trouble; it was like a game to him. Some people just didn't take rejection lightly. But this, this was farther than she thought her ex-husband would ever go. Unless he didn't know. The cold presence she had felt alongside Tarik's had been strong. It had opened cold blue eyes to her, more vivid than her own icy blue. It had seen her, those eyes swimming with glowing power. Macy felt dizzy again and placed a hand on the wall to keep from tipping over. She was in the hallway already and barely remembered walking there. It was time to get out of this haze and back to work.
Taking a deep breath, Admiral Tarika straightened up. She let the breath out slowly and put one foot in front of the other, slowly regaining her composure and balance. Tarik was now the least of the worries in her mind, though he was still annoying as ever. Whatever sith-spawn creature was out there, she would have to find out what or who it was before worrying about Tarik himself.
***
A small smile curved at the very corners of the young man's lips. It had been simple, almost too simple. But then everything seemed that way lately. Since he had escaped from that dreadful planet and his slavery, he had grown in power so immensely. Now it was a simple task to see beyond the ordinary and into whatever he wished.
Corot knew he should be eternally grateful to Tenevera for what she had done for him. "And I am," he said aloud letting the cool softness of his voice drift through the dark room. It was true, she had freed him in more ways than one, and he would never have to bow down before another woman again. It was almost a pity that he had been forced to kill her. Well, maybe forced was too strong a word. He couldn't have let her live surely, but no one had forced him to do what he had done. A laugh escaped from his lips at the thought, and he realized something else. He felt no remorse.
The light snapped on in the meditation chamber as he stood making him blink until his blue eyes adjusted to the light. He stretched a long cat- like stretch and shook out his limbs. The black jumpsuit that he wore allowed for quite a bit of movement, but sitting still for over an hour was something no type of clothing could make comfortable. He knew that his "employer" was waiting just outside the door. Another laugh as Corot thought of the idiot man.
One thing Corot had known since he had been just a small boy was that everyone will always try to control whoever they can. Nothing had ever happened to change that idea in his head either. Moff Tarik Jevour was certainly no exception to this rule. The man had hired Corot to aid him in tracking down his wife. A ridiculous endeavor in Corot's mind to begin with. He had agreed however to the task, but how long he would keep to this whole pretense was undetermined. The pay was good, but the power to be gained by overthrowing the Moff would be even better. He could rule. He could have whatever he wanted and nothing could stop him.
Tarik was clearly becoming impatient waiting for Corot to exit the chamber. He didn't even need to use the force to tell that. Tarik's footsteps outside were becoming restless, clearly he had taken to pacing. Corot rolled his eyes and decided to let the man wait some more, taking his time to braid his long pale blond hair. The pacing outside of the door stopped and then restarted itself. Corot paused just long enough to wait for the point when Tarik would be farthest away with his back turned before opening the door.
The tall dark haired Moff jumped slightly at the sound of the door whooshing open and turned to face Corot with a sour expression plastered across his face. "What in blazes took you so long boy?"
"These things take time, Moff Jevour." Corot said calmly his voice almost a purr. "If I were to rush things would foul up and we might end up tracking a hutt and not your lovely wife."
It seemed to take Tarik a moment to figure if the boy was being condescending. Decidedly he was. Green eyes narrowed at Corot, "I do not pay you good credits to be rude and uncouth," he shot sounding just as annoyed as he looked. "Did you find her or not?" Corot did not let the man's impatient tone bother him in the least. There was a time to let anger take over and a time to let it build. This was the building time. "If you really must ask in such a manner, yes. I did." The young man watched pleased as Tarik's face turned, going in an instant from annoyed to the look of a man who was about to get his every wish granted. "Excellent work, I knew that I was brilliant to have hired you." Corot couldn't believe what he was hearing the man say. That was probably the most conceited thing he had ever heard anyone say in the entirety of his nineteen years. Not even Tenevera had been so conceited as that. Of course Corot's experience with people was somewhat limited, but he knew even more than ever at that moment that Tarik was going to have to be put down. "What do you plan to do with her once you have her?" Corot asked smiling. The Moff seemed pleased, as though he thought Corot was smiling for the same reason he himself was. In reality the young man was smiling for a very different reason. For the last six months Corot had known exactly where Admiral Macy Tarika was located. It hadn't been in the best interests of his plans to inform the Moff of this however. He had kept her whereabouts to himself, exacting the first phases of his plan right beneath Tarik's nose. It was amusing really. The man had no idea of what Corot was doing in his name. And it wasn't as if Tarik didn't deserve it, Corot didn't like women all too much, but at least he knew how one ought to be treated until they proved unworthy. Fifteen years on Dathomir had taught him at least that much. "We simply return her to me," Tarik said in that same conceited tone. Corot wouldn't have minded just pounding the man into the ground right then. The only thing keeping him from it in fact was the fact that he had worked so hard at laying out his plans perfectly. One tiny mess up could disturb the entire balance of what he had done. "Of course," he said quietly nodding. Soon. Soon all that he had worked for would come to its brilliant culmination. Soon Corot would have everything he'd ever wanted. So what was that tiny thing nagging at the edge of his mind? Perhaps this was to be only the beginning of his journey toward completion. There was always something else. Always. Corot watched as Tarik turned and walked away down the hall followed by the two white-armored storm troopers who seemed to always be accompanying him. "Of course," he repeated to no one, and the sound dissipated into the empty hallway. Things were about to get very, very interesting.
