A/N: Before we start this story, I want to express that this story is heavily inspired by "Not in Our Stars" by lilith_morgana. It captivated me, and this is the start of my take on the idea. Look it up on Archive of Our Own. I highly recommend it
"One more chirp from you little bird, and you'll regret it!"
"Chirp, chirp chirp!" Vette responded, staring at jailer Knash with a smirk, which soon turned to a look of fear when she saw the brute press his thumb onto the switch he held in his left hand.
Zap!
The twi'lek writhed in pain as the electrical shock lit up her body with white hot pain, making her feel as if she'd just been lit on fire. After a few agonizing seconds, the jailer released his thumb from the button, finally giving her reprieve from the torture.
"Ow, jerk!" Vette exclaimed, rubbing her hands on the shock collar around her neck that had been placed there by the sith a few weeks earlier. "If you don't like that, I can do other animals too! You name it, I can do it!"
Damn it, Vette! She thought to herself. Treasure hunting on the sith homeworld, real smart! Now look at what you've gotten yourself into!
Knash simply gave her a death stare, and his thumb seemed to be getting antsy yet again.
Before he could give her another shock however, a tall man, taller than the jailer, strode into the room, causing Knash to whirl around.
"You!" Knash exclaimed, seeming surprised. "You're the acolyte Overseer Tremel sent for the test, right?"
The sith acolyte simply nodded, and Vette eyed him nervously. He was a tall, well built man with long messy blonde hair that was tied into a ponytail. As her eyes scanned him however, she found something about him to be… peculiar. The trademark scowl that seemed to plague nearly all the students at the Korriban Sith academy was not present on his face. Instead he wore a look of… anxiety…? And was that empathy in his eyes as he looked upon Vette and the other prisoners?
And as she noticed his eyes, she found that she could not look away. They were a bright, icy blue, and they gave the impression that just by looking at someone, he could see straight through their eyes and into their soul. And the most disturbing part about them, Vette found as she searched them, was that she could not find any of the usual seething rage and hate that was ever present in the eyes of a Sith. How could she not find it? It was always so obvious. He's a damn sith for fuck's sake! Their whole thing was being angry at everything.
As she gawked at him however, she noticed that the sith had taken notice of this and was staring back at her, looking into her eyes with that creepy all seeing gaze.
Upon realizing what was going on, Vette let out a yipe and jumped back slightly, embarrassed and bracing herself for the inevitable verbal daggers that would soon shoot out of the Sith's mouth and into her chest. And yet as she waited, they never came. The room stayed silent, and she began to see that a smile was beginning to spread across the Sith's face. Not an evil, malicious smile, but a genuine one. One that made Vette feel safe, and momentarily forget her current predicament.
This moment came crashing to a halt however, when Knash cleared his throat.
"My lord?" He said, raising an eyebrow at the Acolyte.
The Sith broke his gaze with Vette and glanced at the jailer.
"Sorry," the Sith said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck (was he blushing?). "Let's continue."
Vette sat down in her cell, feeling flustered and slightly irritated at Knash (well, more irritated than usual at least), though she didn't know why. She leaned her back against the bars on the back of her cell and watched as the Sith began to talk to Knash about whatever he had to do.
This Sith, she decided, was the strangest one she had ever seen.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
"Ouch!" Vette exclaimed as she regained her footing after another shock from Knash. "Give it a rest, William!"
"I'm getting my fill of fun while I still can," Knash growled, glaring at the twi'lek. "Slave."
The last word that Knash had said filled Vette with rage. She was a slave to no one. But as she prepared to give her retort, the Sith acolyte from the previous day entered the room.
"Ah, look who's back!" Knash said as he turned away from Vette to glance at the visitor. "Word is you might become Lord Baras's apprentice."
The Sith shifted nervously when the jailer said that, though Knash didn't seem to notice.
"Anyway, I hear you'll be relieving me of this twi'lek," Knash said. "She's a pain in the neck."
Vette couldn't help but laugh.
"Who's the pain in the neck?" She exclaimed. "I'm the one wearing a shock collar you asshole!"
Knash gave her a disgusting evil smile filled with rotten yellow teeth.
"Humor gets you nowhere in the Sith Empire!" He laughed, before raising the remote and preparing to turn Vette's world into nothing but agony once again.
"No, don't!" The Sith said, pushing Knash's arm back down.
Vette was in shock. Why was this man, this Sith, acting in her defense?
Knash seemed to share Vette's sentiment as he looked up at the Sith with surprise and disappointment.
The Sith didn't budge, just glared down at Knash until the jailer finally sighed.
"Whatever you say…" Knash said, looking flabbergasted. "But mark my words, use this thing enough, and she'll show you the backdoor of her mother's house."
And with that, Knash simply handed the remote to the acolyte before walking to the other side of the room to harass another poor prisoner.
The Sith eyed the remote in his hand nervously, causing Vette to hold her breath, worried she had misjudged the acolyte, and that the minor act of heroism from him was just so he could save the first shock for himself.
Instead however, the Sith just shook his head and thrust the remote into his pocket.
"Come on," he said as he opened the cell. "I'll tell you what's happening on the way."
Vette stepped out of the cell, still very confused regarding everything that was happening.
"It's Muramad by the way," the Sith said.
"Huh?" Vette asked stupidly.
"My name," the Sith said with a smile. "Muramad Nazhani."
Vette eyed him cautiously for a moment, weighing her options.
"Vette," she responded. "Call me Vette."
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
Muramad Nazhani was in over his head.
All his life, back when he lived on Dromund Kaas, he was told by his family that being a Sith was a position of honor, that he should be proud of his heritage and ancient Sith bloodline.
And he was.
At least until he got to Korriban, where seeds of doubt began to sprout in his mind.
For there was no honor here.
The day he had arrived he was told by Overseer Tremel that he had to fight and kill to progress in the Sith order, lest someone more powerful or more ambitious kill him in order to seize more power for themself.
The Sith Order is a fucked up batch of deranged misfits who've been given access to deadly weapons.
That was what Muramad had immediately thought when Darth Baras had given him the order to murder Overseer Tremel in cold blood. Now sure, Tremel wasn't much better than the rest of them, and had a serious bigotry issue, but Muramad wasn't just going to kill him because some fat old psychopath narcissist saw him as a threat in some way.
So he didn't.
He dueled Tremel, won, cut off his hand, and allowed him to flee the planet. For some reason, Tremel's hand is what Baras wanted for proof of a job well done. Muramad didn't question him as to why he wanted the severed hand of his coworker, and honestly he didn't really want to know. All that mattered is that Baras got his "proof," and Tremel stayed alive.
Then there was Vemrin.
Vemrin was a hot-headed acolyte who saw Muramad as a threat to his progression in the Sith order, as they were both trying to gain apprenticeship to Darth Baras (Muramad didn't care, Tremel just essentially decided for him, and Muramad didn't really have another choice.). Vemrin had made multiple attempts on his life by this point, first sending his "friend:" (more like minion) Dolgis to snuff him out when they were alone. Muramad had beaten Dolgis, of course, and sent him back to Vemrin with his tail between his legs. The second attempt was made when two more of Vemrin's "friends" lured him into a room and jumped him. Unfortunately due to the need for self defense, neither of them had survived.
So why did he stay?
Why did he stay on Korriban, where the strong are the only ones who survive, and the weak, and hell even the unlucky, are obliterated? Was it worth it for the honor he'd bring his family name?
He didn't know. The Sith and the Empire was all he had ever known, and he felt uncomfortable even questioning them in the first place.
"Yoo hoo… Mr. Sithy guy, you wanna tell me where we're going now?"
The voice to Muramad's right jolted him out of his thoughts, making him realize that he was so lost in his own head that he was almost at his destination without realizing it. And he had also forgotten to inform Vette as to what was going on.
"Sorry," Muramad said, shaking himself out of his dreamlike state. "You were caught by the sith while trying to break into an ancient tomb, yes?"
"Yeah," Vette said, rolling her eyes. "You taking me somewhere to execute me or something?"
"What?" Muramad's eyes grew wide. "No, of course not!"
"Oh good," Vette said sarcastically. "That's a relief."
Muramad shook his head and allowed himself a slight chuckle.
"We're going to the tomb where you were captured, because you know how to get to the secret chambers, and according to Baras, there's a lightsaber in one of them." He said. "My future lightsaber."
"And if I don't show you?" Vette asked, raising an eyebrow. "What are you gonna do, shock me?"
She gestured to the metal band around her neck.
Muramad sighed, and turned to face the blue twi'lek, reaching behind her neck and under her lekku in order to detach the shock collar that had been placed there days ago.
After he did this, he turned, gazed into the lower wilds, and threw the collar as hard as he could, watching it fade into the distance.
"I never liked that thing," Muramad mumbled, continuing down the path. "Come on."
Vette just stood there, gawking at him.
