29: Reign of Weird
Ayumu awoke with a pounding headache. She sat slowly, the heel of her hand pressed to an eye, blinking against the blinding light of twin suns. "Whu..." she managed thickly. "What a miserable planet…"
She swiped at her upper lip, smearing the latest in a string of nosebleeds across her cheek. It felt like she was breathing solid grit, the air was so dry. Though the sand around her bedroll was strewn with empty water bottles, her throat was still parched. Never had Ayumu missed her native Thyferra so ardently.
"Ayumu." The Sithling moaned as her headache grew by about five degrees. "I want you to come to Coruscant." Then, responding to her sudden surge of fear, "Do not worry, young one. I did not expect you to overcome her in your first encounter--there will be no punishment. I merely wish to present you to the Empress."
Oh. Like that was supposed to make her feel better.
"Waugh! I hate that cat!" Tomo simpered, clutching her bandaged forearm theatrically. Fortunately, she was going for pity, so she kept her voice low. Now, to be fair, Maya had pretty much opened her arm and now she had to take medication for the Sand Panther bacteria, but…
"It's your own damn fault," Yomi said tiredly. "Next time, look where you're going to sit. And don't try and tell me you still can't see—you had to be aiming those punches!"
"And pretty well, I might add," Tomo agreed proudly, forgetting her agony completely. "Nothing can stop my feared and renowned left hook!"
"To think I missed this crap," her friend sighed, covering her eyes. The general clamor of the Katana's "Juice Bar" washed over both of them, reminding her that there would be too many witnesses if she decided to strangle this irritating woman. "Hey, what are you--?"
Tomo was playfully jabbing her side again. "Oh, c'mon, you're not mad, are you? Lighten up!"
"Lighten up? Why don't you grow up?"
"If I grew up," the Honorable Captain said, affecting an air of wisdom, "I might be a better person, but I wouldn't be Tomo Q. Takino. And there's only one of those!"
"Thank God," Yomi said, then blinked. "Wait, what does Q stand for?"
Tomo shrugged.
The Valerian sighed again and sat back. Since they had returned from Chiyo's exploit they hadn't had much to do, and Tomo without something to do was an absolute terror. Unfortunately, she seemed very taken with this whole "Rebellion" thing and enthusiastic to join in with the attack that this Armada was mustering for.
"Just look at it!" she had said, gesturing over the colossal fleet, "What could stand against this? What could possibly be cooler than being a part of this?"
Yomi knew that there was some huge, tragic flaw in this whole situation, but for the life of her, she couldn't pin it down. The attack was a bad idea, the Rebellion was bad news, and now was an excellent time to disappear. Great, she thought sourly, I've figured all that out, now all I have to do is convince Ms. Head-Like-A-Block-Of-Granite over there.
She looked up and happened to notice Yuka enter, find her way to Wedge and hand him an envelope. "Thank you, Miss," he said gallantly. The powder monkey bowed with a big smile and scampered away.
How far those two had come… When they'd first signed on, Yuka would've been intimidated just being in the same room as a fighter like Wedge. She and Miru had had trouble even as recently as their visit to Thyferra.
"Yomi, can we ask you something?"
She looked up from her textbook, doing her best to keep a pleasant expression in spite of the miserable humidity. The two recruits stood before her, hands clasped submissively. Behind them, Kagura dozed with her feet on the room's desk. "Sure."
"Are all of the rebels as mean and tough as Ms. Kagura?" Miru asked seriously.
Yomi blinked. As mean and…? "Well… I wouldn't say so. Some of the rebels… they put up a front, you know? They act all tough, but they're really nice people that try to look after their friends."
"But not me, though," Kagura said absently without opening her eyes.
Yomi smirked a little and looked sideways past the recruits. "Yes, they pretend like they're total badasses and secretly swoon over Garik Loran."
"Hey! Garik Loran is frickin' hot! I mean, uh…" Kagura looked back and forth between Miru and Yuka, who'd turned to stare at her. "But not me, though."
"Yomi? Hellooooo…"
"Huh?" She shook her head rapidly. "What?"
"Jeez, why are you spacing out so much?" Tomo grabbed a handful of her stomach. "And how the hell did you get so skinny, anyway?"
"We've been over this," she growled, swatting the Corellian's hand away. "Many, many times."
"No, I mean, like, since you guys rescued me."
"You're being stupid."
"You were worried, weren't you?" Tomo asked with perverse glee, "You missed me, didn't you? You were pining!"
Didn't that infuriating woman realize how important life-debts were to Valerians? Didn't she know that Yomi's angst wouldn't have anything to do with her annoying-as-hell self? Didn't… oh, bother. "Yeah," Yomi said casually. Without pausing to see the effect of her admission, she stood and walked away.
A short time later, Kagura arrived with a tray and sat next to her. "What's up, Tomo? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm just not used to it…" Tomo said softly, staring after the Valerian.
"Used to what?"
"Caring," she massaged her eyes. "Aw, man. I'm gonna need some of that Crimson Ale."
"Oh, yeah… about that…" Kagura started nervously. It fell to Security to break up the resulting slap fight.
"Well, your… uh, your cat looks healthy," Dr. Ishihara said. "He's a big 'un though, isn't he?"
"Um, yes," Chiyo agreed uncomfortably.
"You know," the good doctor said, pulling on an imaginary beard as he regarded the massive feline. "He almost looks like one o' them Sand Panthers they got back on your homeworld. Those're pretty dangerous."
"Uh…" Chiyo waved a hand in the air. "He's a crossbreed."
Ishihara chuckled. "Of course. A crossbreed." They both knew that she didn't have it in her to actually mind-trick him, but he trusted her ability to keep Maya under control. The only injury so far was that Takino woman, and the urge to claw her face off was fairly natural.
"Good news, Maya," Ishihara said, stroking the cat's cheek. "I'm giving you a clean bill of health! Welcome to the Katana."
Maya stared at him as if to say, keep your hands to yourself.
"He… um, doesn't like to be touched," the Jedi warned.
"Maybe you should get 'im a sign or something. Could you tell the next appointment to come in?"
"Of course. Thank you very much, Doctor." Chiyo bowed low and made her exit, disgruntled panther in tow.
Ishihara drummed his fingers on the edge of the examination table as disinfecting lasers played over it. Seeing young Ms. Mihama again reminded him; when she'd been treated for the radiation burns, he'd taken some blood to make sure they'd be able to supply for transfusions. The test results had been a bit… irregular.
"Who should I tell?" he wondered. "Do you even know?"
He wasn't sure how to broach the subject. How did you go about telling someone they weren't even human?
A tiny figure walked swiftly through a vast, dark room, her stride business-like and angry. She moved to a large stone chair, slapped a few articles down on a table next to it, sat down, cleared her throat, and…
"FIRST SUPPLICANT!"
The lights rose on the Empress's throne-room. Why did the chief executive of an interstellar Empire need something as primitive and pretentious as a throne room? While there was still quite a dispute over its existence, even the throne-room's most ardent detractors had to admit that it was a sight to behold.
Her yell echoed off of the vaulted crystal ceiling to slap against the shining blue stone floor. A wide red carpet led from towering double doors across the room's expanse and up two short flights of steps to the throne's base. 6 meter tall statues stood on either side of the entrance- one was the first Emperor, whose name was lost to history, and the other was Emperor Tanizaki I the Conqueror. Between them, they managed an odd sort of "Good Cop/Bad Cop" effect.
And so the first supplicant entered. It was, of all things, an alien; smallish, gray skinned, with a dangerous, wiry build. As it approached and knelt at the base of the steps, the quartet of Imperial Guardsmen lining the way up gripped their spears.
"I am Kabarkh, clan Khim'bar," he said, "I implore you…"
The Empress tuned him out as he told his sob story about how his homeworld had been poisoned by a crashing starship and his people had to scratch out a living on what little land wasn't covered with this evil grass or something. When he was done, Empress Yukari gave the Magic 8-ball that was her brain a shake and answered.
"Call the Minister of Sciences," she said to an assistant. "Hook this guy up."
The gray alien bowed oddly, spreading his hands. "I thank y—"
"NEXT SUPPLICANT!"
He was led away and Darth Nochichi drifted forth in his place. "Good day, my Empress," he greeted.
"Yo," she replied, bored. "Something wrong?"
"That wasn't a Noghri, was it?"
"Could'a been. Why?"
"Oh, no reason." Nochichi started rattling a little in the air, his tone growing increasingly violent. "I've just been manipulating their people for decades trying to make them think their world was incurable…"
"Whoa, whoa, are you upset or something?"
"I'm not upset at all," he replied easily, then turned bright red, trembling even harder. "It was just that the Noghri were the perfect assassins and spies and you took away the only hold I had on them…!" By this time he seemed to be making a sound like a shaking can of soda and the Guardsmen were all but cowering from him.
"Are you, uh, sure you're not upset?"
"Of course not. The Empress knows best."
"Damn right. So what are you here for?"
"Do you recall my Empress's Hand project?" By this point, the Sith Lord had totally shed his anger. "It has finally come to fruition."
"Oooh!" Yukari clapped her hands like a little girl. "Show me!"
Nochichi drifted back and disappeared through the double doors. After a few seconds, she heard an irritated, "You look fine. Get in there!"
And so a small, mousy woman in nondescript light gray clothes entered timidly and started to cross the huge room with hesitant, mincing steps. Nochichi rolled along behind and propelled her forward with invisible shoves. When she finally reached the base of the steps, the girl went to her knees and lowered her head.
Yukari was less than impressed. "Who is this?"
"The Baroness Ayumu Kasuga, now known as Darth Mito."
"Darth… Mito?" Wasn't that a place name?
"The training would have been much longer, but she had been practicing while I was away. I am very pleased with her progress."
"Well, what does she do?"
"She's useless for telekinesis, and while she can do a pretty good illusion, true mind-tricks are beyond her." Yukari's eyes narrowed. "Her skills are a little more… esoteric."
"Doesn't she talk?"
There were a few moments of silence. Finally, Nochichi dipped a little lower and prodded Ayumu with one tapered foot. "I'm… I'm v-very pleased to meet you," she stammered.
Yukari laughed. "Hey, you're a Kasuga, right? I remember now; you guys are from Thyferra! Well, don't be so shy. I won't be mad if you greet me the Thyferran way."
"But that's how we…"
"Greet me…" Yukari said menacingly, "The damn Thyferran way!"
"Er… ah heh heh…" Ayumu thought quickly. "You profitin' there?"
"That's better." The Empress sat back and crossed her arms. 'But Nochichi, how do I know if she's any good?"
"Hmm… Darth Mito." The girl turned and looked up at him in trepidation. "Kill the Empress."
"What?" Everybody in the room except for Nochichi yelped. Swallowing her objection, Ayumu rose to a crouch and tensed, closing her eyes. The red-cloaked Guardsmen closed in around her as she ascended the steps and she became an indistinct gray smear between them.
Force pikes described glittering arcs through her course, but only one found anything but air (the shoulder of another Guardsman). Yukari flinched back as a violet lightsaber burst to life above her and came streaking down…
"Stop!"
It extinguished just as a blaster went off, but Ayumu had already reached back to catch the bolt out of the air. She was left standing with one foot on the Empress's knee, pressing the unignited lightsaber gently into her chest and wringing a smoking hand. "Son of a bitch!" the stabbed Guardsman hissed softly.
Apart from that, nobody quite knew what to do or say.
"Get off of me!" Yukari suddenly yelled, pushing her back. The Sithling gave easily, skittering back down the steps and kneeling again as the Guardsmen parted and resumed their places. "Okay, you've made your point. I have some more questions for you, Nochichi, but make her go away!"
"Wait outside," Nochichi said. Ayumu nodded shakily and left much more quickly than she'd arrived. Once the double-doors had closed the Empress steepled her fingers. "Will she do anything we tell her to?"
"More or less. She's still squeamish about hurting people, but I have a way to work that out."
"And you told me you Sith gain power from your hatred… what does she hate?"
"Me and everything I stand for. Which would include you, I suppose."
"Then how do I know she won't sneak into my room with a cleaver one night?"
"Because she has a lightsaber."
"Har har…"
Meanwhile outside, Ayumu stood regarding the two Guardsmen on either side of the doors. They stood absolutely stock-still, nearly enough so to convince her they were statues. "Shiisa Yaibimi?" she muttered, standing on her toes to wave a hand in one's visor. He didn't react. Hmm…
She paced back and forth for a few moments until her curiosity became unbearable. The Guardsman finally shifted uncomfortably when she took her lightsaber and poked him with its inert mouth. Ayumu replaced it and stood back, satisfied with a mystery solved. But then something else occurred to her.
"You know… I always wondered why you guys wore red cloaks."
Almost imperceptibly, the soldier looked towards his partner across doorway, who gave an even tinier shrug. "I don't know," he replied.
"Wouldn't black be more intimidating? Or do they save that for Sith?"
"I always thought it was so that if I started bleeding nobody could see," the Guardsman volunteered.
"Yeah," Ayumu said, "But don't blasters cauterize wounds anyway? Even my lightsaber does."
"It does?"
"I could cut your head right off and you wouldn't bleed a drop," she affirmed.
He edged away from her a little. "Is that… is that so?"
"Come back in," Nochichi called.
"Oh, I have to go. It was nice talking to you." Both turned slightly to watch her go back in. "See you guys later!"
"That's gonna be our new boss?"
"Shh!"
Already the atmosphere of the Imperial Palace had started to change. In short time, Darth Nochichi's reign of terror would be replaced by Darth Mito's reign of weird.
And so word spread among the nobles and high officials that their Empress had a new Sith minion. Those who had always scoffed at the idea of an all-binding Force had a good laugh while those who feared the terrible Sith of legend went to hack shamans to have their anti-Dark Side pendants recharged ("NYAAAARRRGH!").
A rare few with intelligence and discernment neither dismissed this development nor resorted to superstition. They tried in their various subtle ways to get the measure of this new player, but most of them were finally convinced to disregard her when it became clear to them that she was nothing but a harmless bubble-head.
However, in the depths of the Unknown Regions, there was one who had a bit more insight than his peers. A battered Imperial fleet forged ahead, bravely pressing the attack against its alien foes and spreading Yukari's dominion yet further into the Unknown Regions.
Aboard its flagship, a man sat in shadow, surrounded by holographic representations of a few watercolors. The vessel's captain entered diffidently and looked about in surprise; the holographic gallery was usually absolutely filled with the artwork of one culture or another. This was how the Grand Admiral took the measure of his enemies: through their art.
"Who are these from?" he asked.
The Admiral's glowing eyes opened slowly. "Our new Sith. As it turns out she's a painter and an amateur poet." He grimaced slightly. "Very amateur."
"If I may ask, Grand Admiral, what have you found out?"
"The paintings suggest a sad and gentle spirit: hardly Sith material. But there's also… something else." The captain waited patiently for him to elaborate. "For once," Thrawn finally mused, "I'm glad we're way out here."
