I skipped the meal that the Jedi were holding. Most probably, both the masters were attending, and they're no good for a guy like me. They'd sense my deception faster than you can say 'quadratic equations'. Instead, I decided to get myself to Korriban for that job. How I'd do that was up for debate, though, as I had no ship. Perhaps I'd ask a Jedi for a lift, claiming it was for job seeking purposes, which, ironically, it was.
A few hours passed, in which my stomach complained a whole lot, and I spent my time in the apartment, scheming about stuff; a hobby of mine.
Then the buzzer came from my door, so I got to my feet and walked to it. It swished open, revealing Faia again. Surely the lie hadn't fallen through already; it had to be for other purposes.
She had apparently showered in her leave of me, as her hair was still slightly damp, and I saw she had had Tattoine dust on her face, noticeable only in its absence. It made her brighter than before, or maybe it's because her mood was brighter.
"I just came around to apologise for what I did earlier; I should have sensed your loss straight away. There's no excuse for what I said." Touching and smirk worthy at the same time.
"You couldn't have known, and it would have been 'unwise' not to question me, especially in lieu of circumstances. Apology accepted." I gave her a reassuring half-smile.
"Thank you." she looked to her feet, and then to her right.
I changed the mood of the conversation, and stopped her escape, in the way only a master could, saying: "Hey, I was about to go to an employment related meeting on Korriban, do you know where a guy could seek transportation?"
She looked back to me with renewed attention span. "Since most of the people here are from here, there's no real need for public ships. I'll give you a ride later, if you want."
"Excellent. The interview's going to be initiated by me, so when'd you want to go?"
"I'm free now." she said with a frown. Most likely thinking, what military project worker initiates their own interviews? I need to stop slipping with her; it's her demeanour; she's too happy to be taken seriously, and me in my absent-mindedness of her Jedi status, take liberties in my persona's storyline. Damn happiness, perhaps I should crush it.
"Let's go, then." I said, without missing a beat.
The ship landed on Korriban with its normal over-emphasis on 'whoosh'. A Wookie could roll around in mud, and after standing near this thing landing, its fur would be spotless. People tell me I complain too much, but I don't believe them.
I stood on the descent ramp, feeling too self conscious, as per the shirt, for a man of my profession. I'll stand out like the Dark Lord of the Sith at a peace rally.
I stepped down from the ramp, turning around again when I heard, "Good luck!" from the ship.
I was tempted to ignore her, but the character demanded I didn't: "thanks!"
Walking the bleak corridors, I felt something strange. It was a lure and a demand at the same time, it said: come here, be with me. I obliged.
My self restraint unravelled at the ends; I broke into a crowd of people with lax hygiene habits, shoving my way through, with time becoming more insistent, more violent. The further I walked towards it, the more it wanted me. A man tripped over his shoes, and tumbled, with my shove. The harder it was to disobey, the less I wanted to.
I was all the way there then, at the very heart of my almost frenzied attraction. Which, strangely, was the same building I was wanted in. The door was for a cantina. Through it, I could see merry making and drinks for all, and what I assumed to be my new employer behind the bar.
I pushed the door with haste, only to discover it was a pull door. I pulled the door with haste, and stepped into the meeting place. The inside was smoky and noisy, rank. There was a Hutt in the corner, as is apparently mandatory. There were a few Rodians socialising at the bar, drinking whichever alcoholic substance was fashionable.
It was hardly a party, which was a shame, because I used to like parties. Before I'd found my calling, I used to make up some incredible persona, and convince everyone in the room it was me. Quite fun, really.
I walked confidently to the bartender, a large man who looked like he could snap a tree trunk in half with his hands, and leaned forward, ushering his attention to me.
He nodded to me, then walked to my direction. "What can I get you?" He asked when he had reached me.
"My name is Balnus" it was a former alias, "I have come to see Canaan."
He looked serious, and nodded an affirmation. "I'll go get him."
"No need." A man I had not noticed said. It was strange he was able to escape my attention, as another of my plentiful skills was in crowd observation. Only Jedi have been able to do that, thus far. He had a pale serious face that would look unnatural if it smiled, the look of man I would be most careful with; no games. "I heard Mr. Balnus enter. If you'll follow me, Mr. Balnus, we'll discuss business down the back."
No answer was necessary; he walked behind the bar and opened a door, leading to an alleyway. I took my hands from the counter on which I was leaning, and followed him with caution. His combat vest clung to his frame, its orange seemingly illuminated the space around it.
Inside the back room was a wood table, and two chairs facing each other at either end, the kind of setup an interrogation room would have. I was quite used to such meetings.
"Take a seat." He commanded. I took a seat. He sat on the other end. "What's your real name?" He asked.
"Tithonos." I take pride in not telling one person, not a single soul, my real name in over five years.
I had said the strange name easily and quickly enough for him to be convinced, apparently, as he made no comment. Instead, his black eyes bored into my blue ones, without blinking, just staring.
When I felt like twitching under his scrutinizing gaze, he gave up, and reclined back into his chair.
"I'm going to tell you something you already know." He said.
I hesitated "...Ok."
"It appears you have the mark of the Darkside on you."
What could a man say to that? "...You know what I do for a living, right?"
"It's why I called you."
"So how about you give me the contract, and let me get on with it?" I said, almost impatiently.
"No."
"No?"
"No." He smiled at the annoyance clearly etched into my, if I may say so, handsome features. He continued: "Instead, I want to offer you something potentially more rewarding than a simple contract." which is hard, since assassination pays so damn well.
He was silent. "Well?" I prodded.
"I want to give you a book, a dangerous book, and the knowledge that comes with it." The guy was obviously a crackpot. "Of course, I will help you understand it."
"A book?"
"A book."
"...What book?" He smiled at my expense, and I nearly got off my chair and left in anger.
He reached behind him and to another table, grabbed a black tome, and clumped it onto our table, unnecessarily forceful. It was untitled on the front and back cover; pure black.
"Open the front cover and read its title." he demanded.
I obeyed, and in spite of higher reasoning, apprehensively pulled the book to me. The front cover slammed onto the table top with impossible force, leaving only the pure ink of the title, and my eyes to read the galactic basic letters that formed it.
I read it out loud: "The Philosophy of the Sith & The Application of the Dark Side."
Silence crept into the room and copulated with the darkness, forming nausea in my stomach. My head was probably buzzing with thoughts, but I transcended my mind, and noticed them not.
"Uh..." I tried. I cleared my throat noise fully, hoping to break the marriage of silence and darkness, with the final aim of dispelling the dread in my stomach. It didn't work.
I looked to my, well, to the man sitting next to me, whatever his title had become. "So, you're a... Sith?"
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Stop that! Right now!" I slammed the table with the palms of my hands and took to my feet, making the chair I'd sat on catapult backwards with my ferocity. He seemed to have expected it though, as he only chuckled lightly at my outburst.
"I'm not a Sith, friend; the Sith were weak minded fools who fell to the dark side."
He seemed to like me confused, perhaps I look better that way. "Are you quite sure you picked up the right book?"
"There was only one on the table."
"Kindly explain yourself." I picked the chair up from its fallen position, and sat back down.
"The Sith fell to the dark side. They fell."
"- you've said that-"
"-Don't interrupt me. They plunged into the very deepest darkest depths to gain their power the quickest way, and they were destroyed because of it. I'm using the dark side to gain power, using myself to gain power. I'm keeping myself sane with a firm grip of logic, and what people loosely associate with morality."
I waited a few seconds to make sure he was finished. "So what you're saying is, you're using the dark side but not falling to it?"
"Yes." his thin faced features lit up with his first 'yes' of the day. "I want you to take this book with you, to wherever you stay, and study it. Come back in exactly a week, exactly the same time. Ask the 'tender, state my name, and he'll give you a few thousand credits for living expenses." Just like that! "If you find it distressing, burn the book and forget about me, don't bother coming next week."
He leaned forward, and his serious face got melodramatically serious. "But before you leave. I want you to swear an oath, on your very honour and dignity. Do not go near any Jedi with this book. Do you swear?"
"I swear."