The Force's Shepherds
Chapter 139
Level 1313
When her Master told Ragana that he was taking her on a trip, she expected it to be some far away system; far flung from the reach and minds of most people in the galaxy. Perhaps a trip to an old Sith world like Moraband, where knowledge could be found hidden in dark caves and ancient, crumbling ruins. She longed for another adventure like her first experience on Moraband, where the ghost of the mighty Marka Ragnos anointed her with her new name. The thrill of that expedition, the terror she felt as she wandered the tombs, and the triumph she experienced after conquering such trials were sensations that she wanted more of. Such adventures were fun for her, as well as fulfilling. In her mind, they allowed her the greatest opportunity to grow as a Sith.
Sitting on a balcony in the Imperial Senate, listening in on government deliberations, was not what she had in mind when she thought of thrilling, experience rich trips. Just listening to these fat senators, who had no power other than the measly titles they possessed, drone on and on about some idiotic subject or another, made her want to kill something, anything. Hell, she'd kill one of them, and embarrass her Master in the process, just so she would not feel so bored.
Then again, Master might mildly approve of that action. She hummed to herself, as she leaned against the wall in the corridor that led to the balcony, the temptation to throttle a Senator with the Force growing. But, she could not. Her Master may approve of dominating these feeble fools, but it would be embarrassing for him. So she resisted her impulses and lingered in the corridor leading to the Emperor's balcony.
Why did she linger in the hall, instead of sitting and observing where all could see her? Simple; Ragana refused to sit. If she sat down, she'd fall asleep. Then Lord Sidious would certainly be angry with her. She shuddered at the thought of him being furious with her. More than once she had upset her Master, but rarely has she ever infuriated him to the point where he lashed out. One of the few times that happened...
Ragana winced as she felt some residual pain from the lighting bolts that struck her that day.
And I thought my lightning was powerful.
Just the thought of Darth Sidious's Force Lightning made her shiver. Force, the pain she felt when it struck her made her feel sick to her stomach just thinking about it. The sensation of it spider webbing over her body, digging under her skin with fiery tendrils that set every nerve aflame; it made her woozy.
One day, She thought as she inhaled deep, shoving that painful memory to the side, One day I'll match it. I've already got a good head start.
Ragana heard a heavy breath rattle from Joan as her loyal deathtrooper leaned against the wall across the corridor from her. A smirk crossed Ragana's lips as she studied Joan's masked face, before briefly slipping into the force and feeling the same level of boredom from Joan as she felt.
"Yeah," Ragana sighed, "I agree." She glanced lazily to the balcony, "I'm not even watching it and I'm bored to tears. I thought this trip would be fun."
Joan shrugged, and Ragana snorted.
"No one else is here," Ragana said, a lax smile on her lips, "You can talk to me if you want to. I mean, it's not like you have to ask for permission."
"In a formal setting like this, it is probably best if I stick to protocol, milady." Joan replied.
"Ugh… Joan!" Ragana drawled, letting her head fall back against the wall as she glanced up at the ceiling, "I'm going to get you to lighten up somehow. Mark my words I-"
Applause rang out through the Senate hall, followed by a gavel hammering against durasteel. The sound of senate pods deactivating made Ragana's smile broaden.
"And our misery has ended."
She pushed herself up from the wall and made her way out of the corridor she observed the senate from. Quietly, she drew her hood over her head, preferring to not be stopped by any of these worthless leeches that passed for bureaucrats. Add in Joan marching alongside her, and that should have been more than enough to dissuade any Imperial Senator from daring to approach her.
Nevertheless, one did. One that was surprisingly different from the other Senators. While most of these pieces of galactic excrement were obviously lazy, fat, and well to do through no merit of their own; the human male that approached her seemed different. He seemed fit enough, even though he appeared to be an older gentleman. His tanned skin was starting to get wrinkles. His dark hair had flecks of salty gray in it, while his neatly trimmed goatee was nearly all gray. While he wore expensive clothing, it was nothing opulent. A much more subdued physical appearance, but his stature more than made up for any subtlety. Ragana could tell he carried himself with pride, but not arrogance. So, instead of just striding right by this particular Senator, she paused and allowed him to address her, mostly because her curiosity was piqued.
"Hello there, my lady." He began, "I couldn't help but notice you were in the Emperor's balcony observing the proceedings. As a good friend of the Emperor's, I felt it would only be right to introduce myself and offer you greetings to this hall of law personally." He held out his hand to her, "Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan."
Ragana arched an eyebrow beneath her hood. Yes, this one was different. Most of these senators would bow and kowtow to her. They would shower praises on her simply for being associated with the Emperor (as they should, given her status as his apprentice, but no one really knew that), but they would all be false praises. Nothing short of mocking her in fact. But Bail Organa addressed her not as some little hang along for the Emperor, but as an equal. That at least earned him a measure of her respect.
So she took her hand with her right, and lowered her hood with her left, "Ragana."
Bail gave her hand a firm shake then withdrew his hand, a kind smile on his lips, "A pleasure to meet you. Do you mind if I walk with you out of here? The Senate hall is vast and can be disorienting for those who have never been here before."
Ragana replied with a shrug, "I don't seem the harm. Do you J-" She caught her words, "Deathy One?"
Joan warbled back in the Deathtrooper's coded language, and Ragana nodded.
"That's yes."
"Splendid." Bail Organa nodded.
They walked through the throngs of Senators emerging from their individual sections of the Senate hall. Bail often gave the other Senators a courteous nod, or exchanged brief pleasantries as he walked alongside Ragana towards the main turbolift terminal. Ragana meanwhile, did not say a single word to the other Senators, despite their brief glances at her. Something that Bail noticed as the both boarded a turbolift.
"Don't enjoy politics?" Bail asked Ragana.
"This is my first exposure to it," Ragana replied, her glowing eyes glancing over at Bail as they stood in the turbolift, a few other Senators and their aides boarded the lift, but Ragana didn't mind as they shifted around her, Joan, and Bail, "I'll be honest and say the entire thing nearly put me to sleep."
Bail offered a good natured chuckle, "You wouldn't be the first. There are a few deliberations and committees that make me feel the same way. Nevertheless they are all important."
The lift stopped, opened, and a group of senators and aides exited, leaving the lift half empty. When the doors closed again, Ragana pursed her lips, mulling over Bail's words.
"I fail to see it."
"Pardon?"
"I fail to see how they are all important." Ragana repeated, "In all honesty, you senators hold so little power that what you all accomplish in this building is tantamount to being completely useless. The Emperor in the end dictates the law. His word makes life in the galaxy go, and you all just slow it down." She glanced over at Bail, not even the least bit remorseful for her slight insult, "At least, that is what I observed."
Bail didn't argue back, which surprised her. He simply nodded.
"There are certainly those who see the Senate in the same light as you. It is part of the reason why the Emperor was able to procure so much power."
Ragana snickered at that, making Bail furrow his brow. When she saw his confusion, she snorted.
"Procured." She shook her head, "You may carry yourself differently, and perhaps you aren't as useless, but you still use honeyed words, Senator."
"Do I?"
"Oh absolutely." Ragana shook her head again as the lift stopped. More people exited, "Procured… you actually mean seized, don't you?"
Bail drew back a little, "I beg your pardon?"
"Oh don't play coy with me. I can sense how you really feel. You may be more guarded around the Emperor, but you made the mistake of not being as guarded with me." The lift opened one more time, and this time her, Joan, and Bail exited. They strode along the sparsely occupied corridor at the base of the Senate's gargantuan building, moving towards the exit. Near the doors, Ragana paused and turned to face Bail Organa, "You said Alderaan, correct?"
Bail's demeanor now seemed different. Ragana had to give him credit, he hid his distress well enough. Truly a great politician. Perhaps he could have been a good actor if circumstances turned out different in his life. But the Force did not lie, and despite his carefully controlled emotions, Ragana could sense some anxiety regarding her.
"I did." He replied.
His tense appearance now made Ragana giggle, "Ah, there it is. Fear, such a funny thing when you can sense it in other people. Sometimes I wonder why people would be afraid of little me, but then I recall what I'm capable of and realize they should be." She tapped Bail on the shoulder, "And you, well, you're smart enough to recognize it and not try to be some blubbering buffoon about it all. Yes, your bold approach towards me even though I clearly did not want to talk with anyone actually earned a bit of my respect. Because of that, your distaste for my Master will stay our little secret. But… do keep that generosity in mind."
She left him there, sputtering on his words as she strode out of the Senate Hall. She didn't bother to go meet with her Master after the Senate session ended, mostly because she knew he would be busy- and likely would not want her antics interrupting his current work. A sentiment she understood. It was likely this field trip was to simply help her dip a toe into the political waters, not necessarily throw her headfirst into the thick of it. The last thing her Master should be concerned about while trying to run the Empire, was her constant questions about it all. She would ask her questions during their next training session.
The first of which will be why he bothers keeping the Senate intact at all. She thought as Joan walked with her to their shuttle.
The droid in the driver's seat glanced at Ragana, gave her a formal greeting, then turned around, waiting for directions as Ragana sank into her seat. Joan shut the door to the speeder and exhaled, her helmet depressurizing before she removed it.
"Finally getting comfortable?" Ragana asked.
"We're no longer in a formal setting, so removing my helmet is allowed for now." Joan replied as she leaned against the door, her dark eyes carefully watching the passersby as the milled pasted Ragana's shuttle.
Ragana uttered a quiet laugh as the shuttle powered on, "You're still not relaxed. No one is going to attack us."
"Well, call my worry instincts built up over time." Joan replied.
"From where you grew up?"
Joan grimaced, "Yes."
"It can't be that bad."
Joan glanced back at her, "You've never gone below the top level of Coruscant, have you?"
Ragana thought for a moment, "As a matter of fact, I haven't." She gave Joan a mischievous smile, "I suppose we better change that. You said Level 1313 right?"
Joan's eyes bugged out of her skull, "M-milady I-"
"Droid!" Ragana called, "Level 1313, on the double."
Joan groaned and pressed her hand against her forehead, "Kriff, kriff, kriff."
"Why Joan!" Ragana gasped, "Such foul language, from you? I'm so proud!"
Joan frowned back, but Ragana's grin widened. Somehow, that smile managed to make Joan not as angry, but her worry remained. Worry that Ragana sensed, causing her giddy smile to waver.
"What's wrong?"
"Level 1313 is one of the most dangerous levels of Coruscant, mila-" Ragana gave Joan a stern look, "-Ragana."
Ragana pressed her lips together, "And you're worried because?"
"My job is to protect you, Ragana and-"
"And how many times will I have to tell you: I don't need protecting." Ragana shifted in her seat, a slight pout on her lips, "Not from normal people at least. It's like we're entering the bowels of Dathomir again."
"Well I can assure you, Level 1313 is full of anything but normal people."
Before Joan could elaborate, the shuttle gently pitched downward, descending down into the depths of Coruscant. Immediately, Ragana sensed the stress within Joan spike. Her loyal deathtrooper gripped the handle to her door so tight Ragana could hear the synthetic materials it was made of creak. The color drained from Joan's face as Coruscant's afternoon sun faded into deep, long shadows, before finally the shuttle was enveloped in darkness. The lights inside of the shuttle winked on, and in front of the droid pilot, Ragana saw a holographic number quickly counting down towards 1313.
Joan's breathing started to turn rapid, and Ragana gave her friend a concerned look.
"You okay?"
Joan's head trembled, "This isn't safe."
Ragana did not respond with any wit or teasing comment. Instead, she regarded Joan with even more concern. She could see Joan's distress, and decided to do something about it.
Her Master was just beginning to instruct her in the more mental aspects of the Force. The abilities, powers, and knowledge of such mysteries always fascinated her whenever he instructed her on them. During her instruction so far, he mostly focused on teaching her how to sew fear and pain upon her enemies. How to win the battle before it could even begin so that every fight, every duel, every little conflict would always be fought on her terms. So in order to soothe Joan, she decided to attempt the opposite of such a thing. But how to do that? How could she use the Dark Side to attempt to ease Joan's anxiety? It was a mystery for her, and despite her mind racing to think of a solution, she found none.
Next on my list of topics to research on my own: how to manipulate the mind anyway I choose.
She wondered if the holocron she received on Moraband could assist her in any way? It was different from the ones her Master allowed her to study. For one, it was far more ancient than the holocrons of Lords Tenebrous, Ramage, and the other Sith of more recent times. It contained more knowledge long neglected by the Sith. Perhaps there were more secrets to the mystical aspects of the Force within the holocron of Marka Ragnos; secrets that her master had yet to divulge, or flat out refused to reveal. Either way, the knowledge would be hers. Mastery of the mind was now her goal, and she had Joan to thank for it.
So, knowing she could not calm Joan through the force, she did the next best thing she could think of. As the levels ticked down, breaking down to the low thousands, she reached across the shuttle and gently grasped Joan's gloved hand.
She felt Joan freeze at the sudden touch. Ragana half expected her to retract her hand and make a scene about protocol, as she usually did. To her pleasure though, Joan's fingers tightened around hers, causing a small, reassuring smile to cross Ragana's lips.
"I'm right by your side, ya know?"
Joan swallowed hard, then nodded.
As they drew closer to level 1313, the amount of artificial lights started to fade as well. Coruscant's sun failed to reach this far down into the subterranean levels of the planet, and Ragana found herself relying on the Force to help her peer into the darkest shadows surrounding the shuttle. The amount of traffic died significantly, and soon there were more speeders and transports buzzing high above her head (as shadowy specks and silhouettes against artificial lights) rather than around or below her.
She glanced at the level counter. Level 1315, they were nearly there. This level was shrouded in darkness. Only a few flickering lights illuminated the walls of the massive hole they were in. Level 1314 was the same. Even fewer lights, less traffic, less signs of life. Slowly, Ragana started to understand why Joan did not want to come down here. The darkness was intense, almost inducing a sense of claustrophobia within her. She quickly quashed it, focusing that fear into power through the force instead.
Finally, they reached Level 1313, and Ragana was surprised to see a few more lights on this level. As the shuttle docked along the wall of the hole, Ragana noticed some of the citizens milling near the docking area were surprised to see such a fancy shuttle parking on their level. She didn't blame them for their surprise. This had to be the most atrocious looking dock she had ever seen (unless her lost memories held worse ports, but it's not like she could draw on those).
She was even more surprised to see the variety of aliens dwelling near the dock. Biths, Zabraks, several Dugs, and a group of Klatoonians all stared at her and Joan as they exited the shuttle. Ragana observed them all in silence, her hood drawn so that it shadowed out her face. The only identifiable thing about her any of these citizens could see were the glowing irises quietly observing them.
"Alright," Joan gulped, "You've seen it. Let's go now."
Ragana furrowed her brow, "People live here?"
Without thinking, Ragana continued, marching off of the landing docks and delving further into Level 1313. Joan uttered a frustrated sound from behind her, then raced to catch up. Once Joan was by her side again, Ragana felt her grab her shoulder and spin her around.
"Milady, we cannot be down here. It is too dangerous and-"
"And we are perfectly safe, so long as you remain by me." Ragana replied with a gentle smile.
She could feel the fear coming off of Joan in massive waves. Her loyal deathtrooper was only ever afraid one other time, that Ragana could recall. That was on Dathomir, when the Nightsisters and Gethzerion nearly killed both of them. Beyond that, she was always a stalwart companion. Never breaking under the intensity of combat, the weight of her duties, or the shenanigans Ragana liked to pull. Feeling Joan so afraid stunned Ragana, and it made her wonder just what about Level 1313 made her so terrified.
Ragana reached over and took her hand once again, "I mean, who's going to try and kill the Emperor's Apprentice?"
"There are plenty desperate enough to do so down here, trust me." Joan remarked, her head on a swivel as she eyed the groups of aliens, and very rough looking humans milling around what appeared to be a black market of sorts, "You don't understand what this level is."
"Then enlighten me."
Joan closed her eyes and uttered a heavy sigh, "This is the heart of Coruscant's underworld."
Ragana furrowed her brow, "Well, we are literally under the world so-"
"Criminal underworld." Joan sighed.
Ragana blinked, then her mouth opened, "Oh." She nodded as she kept Joan's hand in hers, "I see."
So, this is where the scum of Coruscant also reside. There is a hive on the surface in the Senate, and another down here. Except down here, they are at least honest about it.
If Ragana were to be honest, the criminal underworld of the galaxy was not something that greatly concerned her. Sure, the Empire had laws and they needed to be enforced. But, the Empire was also still in its infancy. There were bound to be groups of people, scum, that would take advantage of the fledgling government and profit from the transition of power through illicit means. Given how ineffective the Imperial Senate seemed to be, it also did not surprise Ragana to see the amount of squalor that surrounded her. She doubted a single credit had been spent on this level by the planetary government in the past hundred years, maybe even longer.
It's a miracle those on the surface haven't experienced any sort of revolt.
With all of this in mind, she could understand how the criminal organizations of the galaxy could have a foothold in what was supposed to be the Empire's crown jewel. For now, this was a small, cancerous section of the planet that her Master allowed to exist. Once the Empire stabilized, Ragana had a feeling this place would be subdued. Stormtroopers would finally patrol these narrow, dark streets. The Hutts, and the Shadow Collective would either be driven out or forced underground. Who knows, maybe she would participate in such a crusade. It would give her an opportunity to flaunt her abilities once more, something that she had been wanting to do again for some time now.
"That's a new one." Ragana heard Joan whisper as she glanced at one of the largest shanties down here. Over the shanty's door was a black flag with a black and red sun rising on it. It was torn and tattered, singed by blaster fire just as the rest of the shanty was, but it was still intact. Standing beneath the flag were a group of human males; all heavily armed and armored. They eyed Ragana and Joan with a look that bordered on hunger.
Oh the poor fools; they think they are the predators. Little do they know they should be worried when they see someone walking by them as calmly as me.
"Crimson Dawn." Joan gasped, "They've gained a foothold here!?"
"Who?"
Joan gulped as they kept walking, "A new gang, from what I hear. A few old friends of mine in the Deathtroopers told me about them a few days ago. They've been at war with both the Hutts and the Shadow Collective. From what I've heard, they're winning."
"Fighting a two front war is one thing, but winning one?" Ragana let out a low whistle as he glanced over her shoulder. Those gangsters were still looking at them, but they weren't following. Maybe they had better things to do than get themselves killed, "Damn impressive."
They walked a few more steps, then Joan froze. Ragana came to a stop as well, and looked up at a large tenement embedded in the rocky core of Coruscant. Few lights winked within the tenement. Scorch marks from blaster bolts littered the walls, the color of which Ragana could not discern, due to the filth that had built up on the building over the years. She noticed several people eyeing them warily from balconies high above, before they retreated into their apartments and locked their doors.
"This is it." Joan whispered, her voice trembling.
Ragana's eyes widened as she observed the tenement, "Your home?"
Joan swallowed hard and nodded, "This place… I never wanted to see it again. I-I just wanted it to go away. If I could give up the memories of all of this I would."
Ragana uttered a snarl that surprised her Deathtrooper. Her sharp eyes flicked around, and landed on the one neon light flickering nearby. A diner of some sorts. Good, Ragana did feel hungry.
"Milady what are you-"
"I'm hungry." Ragana growled as she dragged Joan towards the Diner, "And you need a talking to."
Ragana shoved her way into the diner. She was surprised to see that it was remarkably clean on the inside. The floors, while not spotless, did not have the same grime staining it that the streets or exterior of the Diner had. The booths, while not brand new (certainly not in pristine condition. She could see a few tears in the upholstery), were above her expectations. A lone service droid zipped along the small dining room. When it's glowing eyes landed on Ragana, it chirped at her.
"Welcome to Dexter's Diner! Feel free to grab a seat!"
"Dexter's?" Joan remarked, "This wasn't here before."
"See, good things do happen down here sometimes." Ragana said, a frown still on her face. She yanked Joan over to the booth in the far right corner and plopped her down in a seat. Ragana slid into the seat on the other side of the table, rested her elbows on the tabletop, and steepled her fingers. Her eyes closed as she drew in a deep breath, "So, that nonsense about wanting to forget everything…"
"Nonsense?" Joan replied, clearly offended, "Non- do you see this place? Do you know what it is like to live like- like this!? To not eat for days at a time? To have to fight, sometimes to the death, for a portion of water? You want to know how I became so deadly, what forged me to be the killing machine I am? This place is it. Down here, you either kill, or you are killed. There is no inbetween. So yes, I'd like to forget this place. I'd like to forget the faces of friends that had their skulls bashed into the curbs by gangsters, just because they were begging for scraps. I'd like to forget the struggle to survive. I'd like to for-" She drew in a deep breath as she choked on her words, "I'd like to forget how I became orphaned. And this place… this place is evil and-"
"Hold on to it." Ragana whispered in the shadows of the diner. The pale light over their booth flickered as it finally burst to life.
"H-Hold- why would I-"
"I have no memories, Joan." Ragana replied as her eyes flicked open, "I have no past. I have nothing to look back on. No friends, no parents, no previous loves; nothing. I don't know where I grew up. I don't even know who I am, or who I was before the Emperor found me. Or rather, before I found him." She let her hands fall down to the table as she drew in a deep breath, "The reason why I am what I am now; the reason why I have apprenticed myself to the Emperor, is to find my memories. To discover who I am, and my purpose in the universe." She glanced around the diner, then out the grimy, stained window to the dark street outside, "You have your past. You have your purpose. You know exactly who you are, and that gives you strength. You are a creation that knows how it was created, and this place created you. If you forget where you came from, you will never remain you." A small smile crossed Ragana's lips as a light blush flowed over her cheeks, "And to be honest, I like you the way you are."
Joan stared back at Ragana, dumbstruck. She swallowed hard and ducked her eyes from Ragana's piercing stare, letting her gaze fall to her black boots beneath the table. As she looked down, the door clinked open, and the group of Crimson Dawn gangsters strutted in. Ragana paid them no mind. They were likely just here to get a bite to eat, seeing as this appeared to be the only sanitary establishment down here.
"Hey," Ragana said quietly, drawing Joan's attention again, "Chin up, my soldier. This place is not your weakness. It is your strength. Remember that, and never fear it again."
Before Joan could reply, there was some banging near the kitchen doors. The door swung in and out as three of the four Crimson Dawn gangsters shoved their way out of it, dragging a massive Besalisk by three of his four arms out of the kitchen. The behemoth of an alien clearly put up a fight, as several of the gangsters had bruises and black eyes, but Ragana recognized the effects of a stun weapon when she saw it. The Besalisk stood no chance once the gangsters immobilized him.
Normally she would not have cared what the gangsters did to the Diner's cook. This was clearly a personal matter, or a financial one, and she did not feel like getting involved. That is, until she saw fear return to Joan's eyes. Fear from a memory perhaps? This could not be the first time she has seen someone shaken down like this by a group of gangsters.
That fear in Joan's eyes made Ragana feel furious, but not at her. It was justified, and now that Ragana knew Joan's past, she could understand why memories being dredged up for her would be so distressing. The few memories Ragana had of her old life caused her great pain as well, even if she didn't fully understand them. The last thing she wanted to see anymore was her friend, her closest friend now, in such pain.
"Enough of this." Ragana hissed as she shoved her way out of her seat.
"Milady wai-"
Ragana waved off Joan's concerns as she turned to face the Gangsters. Her face contorted into a disgusted scowl as she watched them beat up on a helpless opponent. While she was not innocent of doing such a thing herself, her opponents were never cooks just trying to scrape by in desolate conditions. They were usually Inquisitors, or Jedi, or the occasional Night Sister. Far more deadly prey than these bullies that paraded themselves as powerful gangsters.
The service droid beeped and whirred, no doubt trying to call the authorities, but to no avail. There was no law in Level 1313.
Time to change that.
As one gangster, a human with spiky green hair and silver laced teeth, buried his booted toe into the Besalisk's massive gut, Ragana whistled over at them.
"You there!"
All four gangsters looked over at her.
"Why don't you two pick on someone your own size?" Ragana stated, placing one hand on her hip.
The gangsters looked at her, shocked for a moment. A long frown formed on Ragana's lips when they burst into laughter. She could hear them mocking her, laughing at her, joking at her expense. Meanwhile, the poor Besalisk whimpered at their feet, body still numb and unable to move.
"Get lost little girl." The gangster with green hair said, giving her a slimy, silver smile, "Or we'll make you our latest little… project."
Ragana raised an eyebrow, "P-Project?" She whipped her head back over to Joan as her Deathtrooper rose from her seat, still afraid, but decidedly more angry now, "Did you hear him?" Ragana said as she gestured at the thug, "Get a load of this idiot. He has no idea, does he?"
"No idea about what?" The Gangster sneered. His four friends moved to his side, ready to help him attack Ragana, "From what I can see, you're just a weak girl. A good looking one, though. You'd fetch a nice price on the slave market."
"Ooooh, I'm shaking in my boots." Ragana replied in a mocking tone. She laughed as they snarled at her, "Be my guest, and try."
The first gangster to move was a burly looking man with bulging muscles, and portly gut. He moved slowly, yet powerfully as he reached to grab Ragana with one meaty hand. Ragana gave the man a devious smile, then slipped beneath his grasp. She called on the force, and delivered one lethal punch to the man's chest. Ribs cracked beneath her fist, and she could feel her knuckles burrow into the soft, spongy organs beneath the skin. The gangster uttered a harsh wheeze, then stood still as a statute, even as Ragana retracted her hand.
He took one shaky step towards her, then fell dead to the floor at her feet. Ragana glanced down at him, and nudged his limp head with the toe of her boot.
"Well… he clearly didn't think that through." She said with a shrug.
"Get her!" The lead gangster cried.
They charged at her, but froze when a blaster primed. Ragana uttered a disappointed whine as Joan stepped forward, blaster rifle trained on the four gangsters.
"I think you've had your fun."
"No." Ragana pouted, folding her arms over her chest, "I was just getting started till-"
"I was talking to the scum."
Ragana blinked, "O-oh, well… can I keep playing with them?"
"You killed that one with one punch, and you call that playing?" Joan asked, one brow raised.
Ragana shrugged, "What can I say? I broke my new toy before I could really enjoy it." A devious gleam entered her blazing eyes, "Wanna see my favorite way of playing with them?"
Joan frowned, glanced over at the gangsters, then lowered her blaster.
"I knew you couldn't resist." Ragana smirked as the gangsters glared hatefully at her and Joan.
"What can I say?" Joan replied, matching Ragana's smirk. She glared hatefully at the gangsters, feeling years of pent up anger at their kind come boiling to the surface,"The artist needs an audience to appreciate their work."
Ragana threw her head back and laughed loudly as the Gangsters moved to draw their weapons. Two of them fumbled for their blaster pistols while the leader drew a vibroblade from his belt.
Ragana heard the blade hum in the rancid, moist air, and she grinned, "Oh they're really going to try now." She winked back at Joan, "This may not be my masterpiece, but I think I'll dedicate it to you."
The gangster with the vibroblade uttered a furious roar and surged towards Ragana. Her twisted grin grew wide as she sensed him rush at her, filled with anger and… fear. Oh he stank with fear. Seeing his friend die in such an undignified, violent manner made him resort to his baser instincts.
"I call this one: The Shocking End!"
She ducked beneath a wild swing from the gangster. His vibroblade hummed over her head, buzzing dangerously close to the hood of her coat. Her glowing eyes widened with excitement as adrenaline rushed through her veins. As the blade buzzed over her head, she drew her spellbook from her coat, and gathered a shard of lightning into her hands. A condensed Thoron, as dense as the strongest dagger.
The gangster didn't even have time to utter a strangled cry. Ragana buried the lightning bolt into his chest, expanding the spell as it penetrated his heart and jabbed out of his back. A shocked gasp came from the gangster. He stumbled back a couple steps, looked down, stunned, at the lightning bolts sparking through his heart; then fell backwards, dead. The two gangsters with blaster pistols gawked at Morgan, too stupefied and horrified to know what to do next.
"I suggest you start shooting." Morgan taunted, "Or running and- oh look they are running!"
The remaining two gangsters rushed out of the diner, not even caring about their original prey slowly recovering on the diner floor. Ragana flicked her gaze down to the beaten up Besalisk as his four meaty arms, easily as big as she was, slowly pushed his hulking body off of the floor. The service droid continued to whir nearby, still trying in vain to contact some sort of authorities.
"Droid, stop." Besalisk grunted, "There's no law down here, you should know that by now."
"Apologies hon, but I only did what I am programmed to do."
"Better fix that then." The Besalisk grunted, the loose skin on his jowls twitching as he spoke. He rolled his four shoulders and turned to face Ragana and Joan. His eyes briefly widened when he saw Joan's outfit, "I'd guess you were bounty hunters new to the area, but then again, no bounty hunter has managed to get a Deathtrooper uniform."
Ragana blinked in surprise, then smiled back at Joan, "Oh look at that, you have a reputation."
"The Deathtroopers in general have a fearsome reputation." Joan replied, her hand still gripping her blaster rifle as she held it off to the side.
"Absolutely, and this time, I'm grateful for it." The Besalisk rumbled. He held a pair of meaty hands out to Ragana and Joan, "Dexter Jettster, owner of this once fine establishment. May I know the names of my rescuers?"
Ragana smiled back, "Someone who knows when to appreciate help, a fine thing to see on Coruscant," She took Dexter's lower hand, while Joan took the higher one, "Ragana, and this is my loyal Deathtrooper, Joan. I assume incidents like that one happen often?"
"Absolutely." Both Dexter and Joan answered.
Ragana frowned, "Okay then? Well, I suggest purchasing some security of some sort Dexter or-"
"I had security." The Besalisk interrupted with a wave of his hand. He rumbled towards a booth and managed to wedge his massive form between the back of his chair and the metal table. One fat finger reached up and poked at a small cut along his chin, before he dropped that hand and uttered a heavy sigh, "But the Shadow Collective seem to be running scared now."
"Crimson Dawn?" Joan asked, taking a seat across from Dexter while Ragana remained standing, spellbook nestled in the crook of her right arm.
Dexter nodded, "Yeah. No offense, but you imperial types haven't done anything different than the Republic when it comes to dealing with the crime syndicates down here. Hutts and the Shadow Collective I can manage, they're at least reasonable- most of the time. Credits drive them, and as long as my establishment keeps getting low life bounty hunters running through it, I can bribe them." He shook his fat head, "But these Crimson Dawn thugs… they're more like a cult than a gang. Don't get me wrong, they like the credits. Thought that would be enough to appease them, but they seem to get off on suffering too."
"Lowlifes." Joan snarled.
Ragana opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself. In her mind, it was not surprising to see such a situation occurring. In an area without any sort of authority or law, the residents were bound to create one themselves. Often the "law", if she could call it that, would actually be survival of the fittest. The strong would dominate, the weak would serve or die. Such was the way of the universe. She wanted to make that known, but decided against it. Mostly because she knew it would displease Joan. A reason she found strange, but good. So she kept her mouth shut, and let the one who grew up in this place navigate the conversation with Dexter Jettster.
"Agreed." Dexter nodded. He glanced around, beady eyes glancing warily at the windows to his diner, "They'll be back soon. More of them too. And they won't care if you have strange magic or a Deathtrooper uniform. Not unless more of you are nearby."
Ragana's brow furrowed, "No, it's just us."
Dexter frowned, "Then you better make yourselves scarce."
"That'll mean that they will just continue harassing you." Joan argued back.
Dexter gave her a smile, surprising Ragana with how white his teeth were, "Look kid, I've been around for a while now. I may not have been down here a long time, but I know a 1313 kid when I see one. So you know I wouldn't be down here if I couldn't handle myself. Those scum simply caught me off guard this time." His lips curled into a snarl, "It won't happen again."
Ragana smirked at that.
I like him.
Loud shouts came from down the street, causing all three of them to whip their heads to the doors.
"Best make yourselves scarce before-"
"I don't think so." Ragana interrupted, "Dexter Jettster, I consider you a friend."
Without another word, Ragana marched out, leaving Dexter puzzled and Joan dumbstruck. Joan glanced at Dexter, eyes wide.
"I better go with her."
"She's about to do something stupid?" Dexter asked.
"I'm not sure." Joan gulped as she slid out of the booth, blaster rifle in hand.
"Gotta save her?"
Joan snorted at that, "No." She drew in a deep breath and marched to the doors, "I'm around to help keep the body count down."
Dosk Olsus could hardly believe what two of his soldiers told him. One moment, four of his newest fighters were successfully shaking down that fat Besalisk who owned the nearby diner. The next moment, two of them were rushing back into the Crimson Dawn headquarters, faces pale as Mygeeto snow, and babbling about a Witch in the diner.
A Witch, of all things. Why did it not surprise him that these ridiculous superstitions lingered with the newer fighters. Rumors about the terrors that lingered within Coruscant's lower levels often leaked out to the Crimson Dawn cells beyond Corsuscant's atmosphere, but that was all they were; rumors and nothing more. He had yet to see any of the monsters or terrors that supposedly called the darkness home. He had seen plenty of psychopaths, plenty of scum worse than him; but no monsters, and certainly no witches.
They were probably spooked by a particularly large rat. That or they ran into a thug bigger than they were. He thought as he led a group of twelve Crimson Dawn fighters down the street towards the Diner. Doesn't matter who killed my men, what matters is payback. No one messes with the Crimson Dawn.
A sharp whistle made the Weequay boss whip his head to his right. Leaning against the wall of a tenement, a couple doors down from the Diner, was a young human girl. She wore one of the most peculiar outfits Dosk had ever seen. Her black and gold boots splashed through a puddle of rancid muck near a flooded gutter as she stepped out of the shadows. Black robes hid most of her body from his view. Hiding her identity even further was the hood to a fancy black, purple, and gold coat. But he knew it was a human female, the… signs were difficult for him to miss.
"Hello there." The girl chirped, her hands folded behind her back as she stopped approaching them. Dosk and his men paused a few paces away from her as well, "So, I'm guessing you're going to the diner to avenge your friends?"
Dosk blinked his black eyes, "We are." His arms folded over his chest, "Do you plan on standing in our way, little girl?"
His gangsters chuckled and whistled behind him, leering a little bit at the human despite her more conservative dress. Dosk's lips parted into a vile grin as he watched her lips fall into a frown beneath her hood. A heavy breath escaped her lips, and she clicked her tongue.
"When are people actually going to stop underestimating me?"
She flicked her hand, and Dosk's laughter died in his throat as he saw a red laser pointed directly at his heart.
"My Deathtrooper has all of you in her sights." The girl explained. The mention of a Deathtrooper made several of his gangsters freeze and audibly gulp, "Move another step towards the diner and she will promptly pull the trigger."
Dosk grit his teeth, "You dare threaten the Crimson Dawn."
The girl hung her head, "Oh force…" She cleared her throat, "Joan! I warned them! Now can I please kill them!"
A sharp whine shot through the dark air, and one of Dosks's men dropped dead from a blaster bolt hitting the man between the eyes. The girl took that as her cue to begin laughing like a maniac.
Dosk was about to snarl at her, but froze. Something felt very wrong. The air all around him, while normally cold due to the lack of sunlight this far down inside of the planet, felt freezing. His breath misted in front of his face in white puffs. Normally he would have shrugged off such a thing. This was not the first time he fought in a cold environment, after all.
But something about this cold felt different. It didn't just feel freezing, it felt dark. Gooseflesh formed on his skin as he felt icy hands slip beneath his heavy clothing, crawling along his flesh and causing him to shiver. As the girl continued laughing, she raised her head, revealing unnatural eyes that glowed like burning coals. They glowed with dangerous intent, and he could feel fear settling into his gut like a heavy stone.
"K-kill her!" He stammered, drawing his blaster pistol.
Another blaster bolt cut one of his thugs down. The others started to scatter, looking for cover. Dosk moved to join his men, but then froze. Not due to fear, but because he literally could not move. Something was holding him in place against his will. It felt like an invisible hand, squeezing his entire body tighter and tighter.
"I assume you are their leader?" A pressure built in his head, and his thoughts felt foggy as the girl stepped up towards him, "Yes… you are." Something was crawling through his skull, like a worm wandering through his brain. He felt like his thoughts were not his own, and the longer he stared into the girl's eyes, the more terrified he felt, "You stay put."
His eyes bugged out of his skull, and an enormous cry of pain erupted from his lungs as the bones in his legs snapped. The invisible hand let go of him, and he fell onto his back, writhing in pain.
"So, are your friends gonna save you or-"
A vibroblade hummed, and the girl jumped back, eyes gleaming with delight.
"They are! Oh how fun!"
Blaster fire screeched over him. Four of his thugs charged at the girl, vibroblades ready to gut her. He couldn't see them as they rushed past him. And he couldn't see the girl anymore. All he could see, as he writhed on the grime encrusted road, were the dark shadows above him, and a few artificial lights that winked from the tenement beside him. While he could not see much of the action, he could hear everything.
Screams of pain echoed through the cavernous Level 1313. His skin crawled as static filled the air. One of his men landed next to him, smoke swirling up from his charred body as vacant eyes looked at him. A terrified cry rushed from Dosk's lips.
He ignored all pain, rolled over, and started crawling as fast as he could back to the Crimson Dawn headquarters. He could hear terrified screams echoing all around him as sharp explosions rang out all around him. More blaster fire shrieked nearby, only for it to be abruptly cut off by another one of his thugs falling dead near him, his upper body twisted around so that he was backwards.
Musty air shot in and out of Dosk's lungs in quick, panic filled gasps. What the hell was going on? Who was that girl? Wait… she has a deathtrooper. She was someone important in the Empire! His eyes bugged from his skull as the last shrieks of blasterfire ended, and he found himself frozen in place again, gripped by the invisible hand.
A whimper slipped from his wrinkled lips as the hand violently rolled him over. Black and gold boots stopped beside his head. Dosk squeezed his eyes shut, pathetic whimpers rolling from his lips now as the invisible hand hoisted him up into the air.
"Open your eyes."
He didn't want to, but his eyes opened anyway. As if they were compelled to open by that same poisonous worm burrowing its way through his mind once again. His mouth fell open in horror at what he saw.
All of his fighters lay in brutalized heaps on the cold street, their corpses mangled and mutilated in ways even he could not have fathomed. Several appeared to be cooked to death as static sparked over their still burning forms. A few had gaping holes in their bodies from where blaster bolts cut them down. As he stared, horrified by the carnage, he noticed a deathtrooper emerging from the tenement, a long scowl on her lips as she looked at him floating in the air.
Below him stood the human girl. Slowly, she reached up and drew back her hood, revealing just how young she actually was. But her youth, and somehow innocent looking face, did not fool Dosk anymore. She was as dangerous as a Nexu, and just as aggressive. A pleased smile formed on her lips, revealing perfect white teeth that gleamed in the darkness.
"I think you understand the message, yes?"
Dosk whimpered again, the pain in his body and the terror gripping him causing any words to die in his throat.
"Hm… whimpering, that's a new one." The girl shrugged, "Well, I suppose I should articulate it to you." She dropped him, but used whatever strange magic she had to keep him kneeling on his broken legs. He cried out in pain, but found his eyes incapable of closing as he howled in the darkness, "When myself, or any imperial are down here, you are no longer the law. I am the law. The Emperor is the law. Not the Hutts, not the Shadow Collective, and certainly not you pathetic Crimson Dawn types. You exist only because we allow it. So I suggest you, and your bosses, think very carefully about how far out of line you tread from now on. Else you all will be paid a personal visit by me. And, as you can see," The girl glanced back at the corpses littering the street, "I'm very good at what I do."
Dosk gulped, "Wh-who are you?"
Her glowing eyes sparkled, "How polite. The name is Ragana, and that is all scum like you need to know."
She lowered her hand, and he fell unceremoniously forward. As he gasped for breath, pain lancing throughout his entire body, his mind came to a stop. Shock filled him as he heard the girl and her deathtrooper starting to walk away. Relief initially flooded through him as he continued to breathe, continued to live. Only for Ragana to pause and address him by his name. A name he did not give her.
"Oh, Dosk," She called back as he lay on his stomach, incapable of moving anymore, "You're only alive because… well, my friend considers me an artist. Artists need an audience, and they also need people to spread the word about their amazing work. So today is your lucky day. You get to tell the story of this little encounter." Her mocking laughter echoed around him as she continued walking away, "Don't let the rats eat you, Dosk."
Before long, her footsteps faded away. She must have walked back to whatever shuttle brought her down to this place. Dosk managed to roll over onto his back with what little strength he had left. Quiet sighs of relief slipped from his lips as he stared up at the shadows, only for his relief to come crashing down as a hologram communicator buzzed on his belt. A hologram communicator reserved for only one person: the Boss of the Crimson Dawn.
A knot formed in his throat. It was a call that needed to be answered. Ignoring the summons of the Boss was a surefire way to get oneself killed. He barely managed to live through this day, so he did not want to take his chances with another terrifying monster. With a trembling hand, he grabbed the communicator and turned it on.
The blue hologram of a hooded figure, face hidden in shadow, greeted him.
"Dosk," The figure snarled, "I am contacting you about your progress on Coruscant. Have you driven off the Hutts yet?"
Dosk swallowed hard and suppressed a pathetic whimper, "We nearly did."
"Oh?" The hooded figure growled, making his displeasure known, "So you have failed? Did the Hutts best you?"
Dosk shook his head, "No! It was a Witch! A damned imperial witch. A spawn of some demon, I swear milord!"
"An imperial witch?" The Boss replied, his growling voice filled with menace as powerful arms folded over his robed chest, "Did you get a name?"
"R-Ragana. She called herself Ragana." He swallowed hard, "She said, that the only reason we are even allowed to exist here is because her and the Emperor allow it-"
"Oh? So she answers directly to the Emperor." The Boss hissed, "Interesting."
Dosk's throat felt dry as sand as he spoke up again, "Milord, I- well- our cell needs reinforcements if we are to-"
"Coruscant is lost if you have attracted the Empire's attention. Figure out a way off the planet on your own."
"B-but we nearly control-"
"Do you really believe I care about a rat infested level of Coruscant like 1313?" The boss snarled, a set of golden eyes glowing beneath his hood, "Taking over that level was merely a means to an end. A step in a long search I have been conducting. A search that I feel may be over soon; I can sense it." The boss took a breath, "Your usefulness has run its course."
Dosk's breath left his lungs as a vice tightened around his throat. A new hand clenched his windpipe, rendering him incapable of sucking in air. His eyes bugged from his skull as he stared at the hologram of the boss.
"And you shall die for your failures."
The Weequay's neck snapped with a wet pop, and he joined his comrades in death. The hologram of the Crimson Dawn boss remained on for a few more moments, illuminating Dosk's corpse in cold, blue light. The Boss cut off his end of the connection, and a moment later, the hologram communicator winked out, leaving the bodies hidden in the dense shadows; the latest victims of Level 1313.
"Ah!" Ragana practically skipped into her quarters, a smile on her lips as she entered the welcoming embrace of her lovely room. She twirled back around and looked at Joan as the door to her quarters hissed shut behind both of them, "This actually turned out to be a good day."
Joan carefully removed her helmet as Ragana fell to a seat on the edge of her bed, the sheets wrinkling beneath her petite form as she yawned. She stretched her arms over her head, her golden eyes watching Joan as she quietly moved towards the expansive windows that looked out of Coruscant.
The sun was setting, casting an intense scarlet glow over the city. Ragana's room allowed her a perfect view of the sunset. The many towers and skyscrapers that stood in the distance from the Imperial palace were nothing more than shadowy silhouettes basking beneath the final glow of the day. Joan's eyes studied the fading sun, and she uttered a long sigh.
Ragana furrowed her brow as she sensed discomfort in her friend.
"Joan?" She rose from her seat, and took a few steps towards her loyal soldier, "Are you-"
"I'm grateful for the sun." Joan exhaled, "Being down there again… it reminded me just how beautiful it is to see. Ever since I emerged from that dark hell, I've been taking it for granted."
Ragana raised her brow, a bit puzzled by her friend's strange demeanor. She walked up beside Joan, and followed her gaze out to the city. Slowly, the sun descended lower beneath the horizon, and the deep shades of twilight began to overtake the sky. Ragana never paid attention to the sunsets of the city. She was always too busy. Always focused on the next task, the next meditation session, the next bit of knowledge she needed to learn. She realized she never took the time to just sit still and take it all in.
Her glowing gaze flicked over to Joan as her Deathtrooper closed her eyes, soaking in the last scarlet rays of light before night fell once more on Coruscant. Her gaze trailed over her face, taking in every bit of her olive skin. Ragana actually felt her cheeks heat up a little as a small blush hit her. She shook her head and decided to distract her mind by briefly delving into the force, only to feel how out of sorts Joan really was.
"I didn't mean to hurt you today." Ragana muttered, catching Joan off guard.
"H-hurt?"
"Yes, hurt." Ragana inhaled, then exhaled, "I… I let my own boredom cloud my judgement. You're my friend, and I can sense your distress, we sort of share a bond that way." Joan's eyes widened at that, "I should've paid more attention to it. Going down to that place was… it was rather unkind of me to force you to do."
Joan turned to face Ragana, dumbstruck once more by her. Once again she proved to be the strangest commander she ever had. No imperial commander worth their salt would ever apologize for their actions, regardless of if they were right or wrong. She certainly never expected Ragana to apologize, given her usual brazen, carefree attitude towards everything in her life. She did everything with so much gusto that Joan did not think Ragana would notice her distress at returning to her old home.
Ragana seemingly noticed her surprise, "My apology is that strange?"
Joan snorted, "To think, of all the commanders I could have, I am lucky enough to wind up with you."
Ragana blinked. Lucky? Joan considered herself lucky to be with her? Why?
This time it was Joan's turn to notice the surprise and confusion on Ragana's face. A small smile crossed the Deathtrooper's lips.
"True, going down there on a whim was more than a little nerve wracking. But, I may have needed it." Joan drew in a breath, and Ragana found herself completely captured by her voice, "It was a good reminder of where I come from. And… and your words of wisdom down there; when I wished to forget everything that made me who I am, they struck a chord."
"Oh did they?" Ragana said with a smirk, as she subconsciously inched a little closer to Joan, "I guess I really do have a way with words then."
Joan laughed quietly at that, "I suppose you do. Truly, you are the strangest commander I have ever had."
"Care to explain?"
"Well, you… you care. You'd think that would be common for people in charge of soldiers and their lives, but you'd be wrong. Many commanders don't care. Many couldn't care less if I lived or died in some gruesome fashion. And yet, you care. You refused to use me to fulfill your goals on Dathomir. Spat in those witches faces when they offered you your goal, in fact."
"And in return you saved my life, for which I am grateful." Ragana said, her voice unusually quiet.
"Then you actually treat me not as a number, or a soldier, but as a person. As someone with a valid perspective. You use my name, and you refuse to stop unless the situation absolutely calls for it."
"Even then." Ragana whispered now, feeling her chest rise and fall with heavy breaths, "I still call you Deathy One in public."
Their faces were close now as the last shreds of Coruscant's sun clinged to the horizon. The dying red light cast a ruby tinge into Joan's dark eyes, making Ragana's blush grow.
Joan quietly giggled at Ragana, "And… and finally, you helped me in my old home. You helped me face the horrors I grew up in. In a way, you helped me move past them."
"Oh?" Ragana replied, her face mere inches from Joan's now, "Well, call that returning the favor for getting me off my bathroom floor that one night."
Joan shook her head, amused, "Always looking to stay even, aren't you?"
"Well, when I say you're a friend, I do consider you to be an equal." Ragana took a deep breath, "Equals should be even. And… well… to hell with it."
Ragana pressed her lips to Joan's, freezing the Deathtrooper in place for a moment. After what felt like the shortest second of Ragana's life, she pulled away, her eyes still closed as she braced for the consequences of her impulse decision.
She pressed her lips into a thin line as nothing happened, then cracked her eyes open.
"Um… so-"
Joan crashed her lips into hers. Ragana's eyes bugged from her skull, then she felt herself melt into the kiss. The two staggered away from the window, bodies pressed together, as the last scarlet rays of sunlight fading beneath the horizon as they fell onto Ragana's bed. At this point, Ragana gave in to her passions, just as any Sith would in her mind. And a great day continued into perhaps one of the happiest nights of her life.
And chapter! This chapter was waaaaay too much fun to write. I don't think I've made it a secret when I say that Morgan/Ragana is probably my favorite character to write in this story. Mostly because I never know what exactly she's going to do at any given moment XD. This also might seem like a bit of a filler chapter, but… you'd be wrong. There were some important moments down in Level 1313, beyond showing just how much further out of control Morgan is spiraling. The Crimson Dawn are going to play a big part in this story for the next few chapters, as is their Boss (hope you all saw Solo, you'd know why then).
Also, in case some of you have not noticed yet, the rating for this fic has changed to 'M'. Reasons for this change: I probably should've done it a long time ago given how violent this fic has become since the Plegian War; Sumia's death was… well… just the fact that she died on its own deserved the upping in rating; future events in this fic will be dark (I do not plan on throwing straight darkness at all of you. If you want that, check out the SI lol. But there will be moments that will merit an M rating); and finally, it gets rid of restrictions I had when writing action scenes which will help immensely. Now, I will not write anything romantically explicit, mostly because I have absolutely no idea how, so the M rating may not be entirely warranted, but I'm gonna play it safe on this now.
Anyways, let me know what you all think of this chapter! As always, I hope you all enjoyed! Have a nice day!
Come join the Treehouse! Discord code is: 9XG3U7a