Chapter 1

SATELE

Ow.

It was her first thought upon awakening.

Satele Shan's entire body was in pain, the whole of her being aching sorely. She couldn't blink without feeling a white-hot flash of pain shoot through her. Breathing made her feel like passing out. She didn't have time to just sit there and feel like a wraid had just played jump rope with her, though. She had to figure out where she was. One of the basic rules for a potentially dangerous situation was to get to know what was around you before acting. She tried to ignore the aches, and struggled into a sitting position.

It was immediately obvious that she was not in a medbay. She saw that she was inside a ray prison, a small square of space with a high-powered particle shield around it made to repulse solid objects, which meant that she wasn't about to get out of here very easily. The outside world appeared a pale purple through the energy field. From what she could deduce, she was in a holding area of some sort, as there were other, unoccupied ray prison cells throughout the room. The room was quite small and compact, and there was only enough room for the cells and a few torture racks. Judging from the thick layer of dust that covered the room, whoever owned this holding area wasn't big on prisoners. The entire place seemed a bit low-tech, in all honesty. Not a single holocom in sight.

Satele chanced a look at herself to see if she looked as bad as she felt, and her eyes widened. Her entire body was one big bruise. She was covered in lumps of various sizes that all looked fairly serious. That explained the endless pain. She was saberless, which was to be expected, as well as topless, save for a bra, which Satele really didn't expect. She quickly got over it, though. Now was not the time to worry about these things. She tried to remember how she'd gotten here, and the memories came surging back.

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Satele was sitting in her quarters aboard the Star's Fury, a large vessel currently under her command. She was currently on patrol around Coruscant, making sure nobody, be it Imperial or simply some gang like the Exchange, would get near the capitol of the Republic. The great planet had been razed before; it wasn't going to happen again. Not on Satele's watch.

This was her third day on this ship, watching for potential threats. Lately, Imperials had been drawing ever closer to Coruscant, and once even began to fire at the Fury. They were taken care of. Shan longed for a real bed, not some hunk of metal with a blanket and pillow sticking out of the wall. But that was not an option. Jedi were ever-vigilant, and Satele would be no different. But why did the beds have to be so… No, she thought. Stop it. You are Jedi. You do not complain. There is no emotion, there is peace. If only it were easier to keep that saying a fact…

As tensions between the Republic and Empire continued to rise, so did the Grand Master's stress levels. She could not conceive how previous masters kept it together through events like the Great Hyperspace War when she found it increasingly difficult to not strangle her advisors during a time of peace. The Empire really was an infuriating thing, and it was getting more and more difficult to not let that fury show. Satele sighed. No point in complaining to herself about things that could not be changed. She decided to take a little walk.

Shan heaved herself out of the only comfortable piece of furniture on the entire ship and strolled out of her quarters, hands behind her back. Immediately, she was swamped by C2-N2, her ship droid. "Master Shan, so glad to see you again! Can I get you anything? A hot meal? Conversation? Foot massage? Whatever you wish, I'll be happy to provide. Just say the word."

Satele laughed lightly. "No, thank you, Ceetwo," she said. "I'm fine. You're doing a great job." The droid nearly short-circuited. "I… I am? Oh, thank you, Master! Thank you very much!" Satele smiled. "You're welcome, Ceetwo. Now, leave me be, if you will." The protocol droid quickly walked away, doing a little jig as he did so. Satele smiled at the droid's absolute and complete willingness to serve. One would think that they'd at least demand some downtime, but no. They were always working, day in and day out, no matter what was happening. It seemed they actually enjoyed endless labor. She decided not to dwell on the motives of ship droids, and continued her stroll.

It was when she was walking along the bridge, which offered a view into space, that she heard it. It was faint at first, almost inaudible, and Satele paid it no attention. But as she continued to walk, the sound grew louder, and she set out to find the source. It was coming from under a slightly open panel in the wall. The panel didn't look like it was naturally coming off due to rust or anything like that; it looked more like it had been pried open. Unable to help herself, Satele peeked inside, and saw, in the darkness… a red blinking light? Funny; red blinking lights were usually associated with… wait…was that beeping getting faster?

Satele suddenly realized what it was, and ran back down the bridge where she'd come from. She managed to dive through the door just as the bomb went off. There was an ear-rattling BOOM, and the door was nearly blasted off as the explosion rocked the ship, sending the soldiers to the floor. Satele used the Force to solidify the door's foundation so as to make sure it would not be ripped from its frame. There was not a doubt in the Jedi's mind that only space awaited them beyond that door.

When the reverberations from the explosion finally stopped, the lights went out. Leave it to the universe to kick them while they were down. "Lieutenant Sarus?" Satele asked while struggling to stand up.

"Yes, Master Shan?" came a smooth tenor voice from somewhere in the blackness.

"Would you mind finding a way to restore power?"

"Sorry, no can do, Master Shan."

"Why not?"

"The power generators were across the bridge. So was the holoterminal. None of us bothered to bring a holocom because, well… we didn't expect this to happen. Please don't fire me…"

"So, you're telling me that we're stuck out here, orbiting Coruscant, with no power and no way to contact anybody?"

"Yes," came Sarus' meek reply.

Satele sighed. "Okay…" She took out her lightsaber, which illuminated the room a little as the twin blue blades extended. She looked at the faces of her men, and saw mixed emotions among their many faces. Some were shocked, some were puzzled, and some, like Sarus, were just plain scared. She didn't blame them. It wasn't every day that a highly secure Republic vessel was infiltrated, rigged, and half blown up. Satele was looking for something, anything, that could better illuminate the blackness, when a red lightsaber blade went through Sarus' chest. The man crumpled to the floor, and Satele instinctively brought her saber into a defensive position. There was the distinctive sound of several lightsabers igniting, and suddenly, Satele could see at least ten Sith standing there, all purebloods, their faces illuminated by the red glow of their blades. Then they attacked, and the real fun began.

Satele didn't even think about what she was doing. One minute she was standing there, looking at the Sith who had appeared, most likely through the airlock, and the next she was slicing one's body in half. A heartbeat after that she was kicking another in the groin, then running her saber through his body. The soldiers were just standing there, dumbstruck, watching as their commander took on all of the Sith by herself. It was pretty amazing, and in no time flat, the Sith were on the ground, dead. Half of them were missing an arm.

Satele just stood there. She noticed the soldiers staring and snapped at them. "What? If I didn't know better, I would think you'd never seen me defeat a bunch of Sith before."

Shaken from his trance, one of the soldiers spoke up. "Many of us haven't. With all due respect, Master Shan, it would seem that you're cracking under pressure. Jedi are supposed to be calm all the time, no?" Satele just looked at him blankly.

"Somebody please inform the man with the eye and ear problems what is transpiring," she instructed with as much calm as she could muster. With that, she set off to find where they came from and, hopefully, their leader. This was assuming he wasn't one of the corpses now littering the floor of the central room.

As she ran off down the hallway behind the bodies of the Sith invaders, she realized that this was, in fact, the hallway that held the airlock. She decided to put on a breath mask and investigate. She quickly went to her quarters, where she found Ceetwo cowering under her desk. "Ceetwo?" she asked calmly. "Y-Y-Yes, Master Shan?" the droid asked, stuttering madly. "What the hell are you doing?"

"C-Cowering."

"Why?"

"B-Because, in case you d-didn't run into them yet, there are S-Sith aboard the ship. They c-c-came through the airlock, and almost f-found me!"

"I see," Satele told C2 soothingly. "Don't worry. They're dead. I'm going to find exactly where they came from."

The droid was relieved at this, and quickly walked down toward the central room. Satele sighed. He may have been a loyal, hardworking servant, but he had no stomach for violence of any kind. He couldn't even fight. Satele had no time to waste, though. She quickly found her breath mask, then ran to the airlock. She stepped into it, found the button, and opened the door into the void. She hesitated only a second before looking outside. It was amazing how…empty it was. To think that this nothingness made up most of the galaxy and beyond… Focus, Satele thought. There are possible Sith out here. This is not the time to marvel at the endless black. She found the ladder right next to the airlock, and climbed it. Once she got on top of the ship, she activated her gravity boots to keep herself more or less anchored to the ship's top. She started to explore.

Sure enough, a ways down the ship, there was a moderate-sized Sith vessel atop it. It looked like it could hold a lot of people, but something told her that not many were brave enough to risk flying that hunk of metal. It wasn't even remotely safe-looking. It was covered in rust and dents, black paint chipping to reveal the obviously non-stainless steel. The ship itself was a very new model, from what she could tell. She'd been seeing these kinds of ships all over the battlefield on the Imperial side. Furies, they were called. They'd only been out for the last ten years, and it was said that they were almost totally immune to all natural wear and tear, which left Satele standing there, puzzled as to how such an amazing ship, said to be one of the best in the galaxy, was reduced to this. But curiosity killed the vine cat, as they say, and she almost died right there.

Without warning, someone kicked her down from behind. The force of the kick was so powerful that she had no hope of keeping her balance. Down to the metal she went, smashing her forehead against it and drawing a small stream of blood. She twisted and looked up to find a figure in Sith robes and a full-face black breath mask standing above her, purple lightsaber at her throat. She could feel the heat radiating from the blade, could hear the steady hum it produced. Lightsabers were one of the deadliest wieldable weapons in the galaxy, as well as one of the easiest to carry. She had no desire to know what that blade felt like while slicing through her flesh. A quick burst of Force to his face sent him flying backwards, but he wouldn't be brought down that easily. Despite the power and accuracy of the blast, the Sith landed on his feet. He and Satele stood there for a while, neither making any attempt to attack the other, just sizing each other up. Much to her regret and shame, Satele broke the silence first.

She sprinted toward him, powered up her lightsaber, and swung it at him. The Sith easily blocked it, as well as her next few strikes. She was simply unable to hit the man, and lost a bit of patience. She threw a bit of her caution into the wind, letting down her guard and going fully on the offensive, which served to unprepared her for what he did next, which was one of the most dishonorable and outright painful things she'd ever witnessed. He ducked under her next swing, punched her in the gut, and once she doubled over from that, he kicked her head, sending her to the ground. That did not make Satele happy. She didn't really feel like getting up after that, but it was either that or be impaled. She sprang to her feet.

"Alright, then, Sith," she said through her breath mask. "If you aren't going to have honor, then neither will I."

The Sith just laughed a static-muffled laugh. "In all honesty, Master Shan," he said with his smooth Imperial accent, "I don't think that will help you. You and your fellow Jedi are so wrapped up in your old traditions and fighting styles that your pathetic little minds have no room for anything other than what's by the book."

Satele frowned, her eyes narrowing. "I'll make you eat those words, Sith," she said coldly.

He chuckled again. "Oh, Master Shan, is that really necessary? I'm a grown man; I'm fully capable of providing for myself."

Satele wasn't about to stand here and take this, so while he was busy laughing at his own rude yet clever joke, she attempted to backhand him. Such a technique was dishonorable, but effective, and more importantly, quite necessary. But then he sprung into action. He caught her hand in mid-slap, bent her fingers backwards, causing her to emit a gasp of pain, and then turned around and threw her right over him and onto the metal. Her whole body was in pain. That throw had more than likely broken a rib or two, judging by the especially excruciating pain in that region, and she could barely bring herself to get up. She rolled over and sprang up, sending her feet right into his chest, and following him to the ground, pinning him down. She leaned down close to his face, smiled, and said, "Can't fight dirty, hmmm?"

Suddenly, his hands were on her shoulders, and his head smashed into hers, right where the ship's hull had connected earlier. She stumbled back, clutching her face. Satele opened her eyes in time to see the Sith grab her shoulders once again, bring her close, and drive his knee into her stomach. She was now officially in too much pain to stand up. She fell to the metal, panting shallowly. The Sith put his heavy boot on her chest, sending another surge of pain through her, and she simply couldn't handle anymore. As she slowly drifted off into the blackness, she could hear him saying, "Do you see now, Shan? You can't expand your combat horizons, even for a fight against an obviously powerful and near indomitable Sith Lord. I barely even used my lightsaber, Shan! This is why you and the rest of your ilk will always lose." Rude and overconfident… Satele was really starting to hate this guy.

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Satele snapped back to reality. So that was what had happened... she'd been captured by that Sith Lord, and was now in a ray prison somewhere on his ship, if the engine sounds were any indication. She was in the middle of wondering why, exactly, she was here, alive, and not ripped to shreds by his lightsaber, when the door to the room hissed open. In came the man himself, the powerful Sith Lord who had somehow managed to capture the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, without his breath mask on. She assumed that she wouldn't get many more chances, so she decided to get a good look at him while she could.

The first thing she noticed was that he was astonishingly handsome. She'd been fully expecting some sort of saggy-skinned, red-eyed, vein-faced mongrel, but she got nothing like that. Her human captor (she had expected another Sith Pureblood, like the others that had boarded her ship) wore the face of a man barely 35, and it was untouched by red eyes, bulging veins, or anything normally associated with a Sith Lord. It was framed by short brown hair swept to the right in the front, and he had the most amazing blue eyes. A red tattoo covered part of his nose and his entire right eye, signifying that, while uncorrupted, he was loyal to the Sith.

His body was lean and well-built, though not so much as to consider him horribly muscular. He was wearing full black xonolite metal armor under an equally black robe, custom-made so that it was perfectly form-fitting. He saw her staring, and smiled, showing very well-cared-for teeth. "So, Shan," he said, a hint of smugness in his voice. "How do you like your accommodations? I tried to get you something better, but there's only so much I can do for Jedi. Anyway, how did you sleep?"

Satele's eyes narrowed. "You must be joking," she said. "I'm topless, in a ray prison, and my body is one big bruise."

The Sith laughed. "Ah, yes, so sorry about that. I tried to tell you that you that you Jedi couldn't improvise and you didn't believe me. 'Twould seem that for all your emotion, you don't have much tolerance for teasing. Prideful little thing, aren't we?"

"You Sith sicken me."

"Why thank you, Master Shan!"

"You're quite welcome," she snarled sarcastically.

The Sith chuckled a bit. "Now, now, Shan, do you really need to be so hostile? From what I can tell, you're going to be here for quite a while. We might as well try to tolerate one another."

Satele's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Okay, now you're just being ridiculous. By the way, where, exactly, is here?"

He smiled right back at her, more warmly. "Oh, don't worry, dear. Dromund Kaas is very nice this time of year." He rolled his bright blue eyes upward thoughtfully. "Oh, wait…since when was it nice?"

The Grand Master showed no trace of amusement. "Well, at least allow me to ask one question."

"What is it?"

"Why am I not dead?"

"Oh, that's simple. If I killed you back on the top of that ship, which, by the way, is now space junk, I'd have squandered the chances I had for boatloads of fun! Besides, I'm positive that the Grand Master of the entire Jedi Order would fetch quite the stack of credits, no?" The Sith Lord sounded almost giddy about the prospect, although which part excited him more was difficult to guess. With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

"Oh, one more thing?" Satele said. Her jailor turned back to face her.

"Hmmm?"

"Who are you?"

The Sith smiled once again, charming under normal circumstances. "It's Vatrus. Darth Vatrus." And he left for real this time, leaving a stunned Satele to mull over that little piece of information.

AN: And there you have it! Slightly improved by Laryn Chillbreeze! Thanks a ton!