Little Bird

Well… This could've gone better, Sherlock thought as he was paraded through the dim corridor, flanked by two rows of Stormtrooper guards. Or at least he thought they were Stormtroopers. However, instead of the typical stark white armor, these troopers' uniforms were accented with tints of forest green and gold. Subtle, but bold compared to the usual troops he had encountered on past missions. Never before had he seen such colorful fighters. He didn't think the Empire was fond of color.

But as the mini-brigade drew closer to its destination, Sherlock sensed whoever commanded was not like most of the Empire's cronies. In all honesty, he wasn't completely sure whoever they were meeting was part of the Empire. Rumor had been spreading across the galaxy of a mysterious new enemy, a rogue Sith Lord, making himself known. Yet this Sith or his troops were painting over any symbols of the Empire they came across. In fact, the base Sherlock was being escorted through wore such graffiti upon its walls. Not that this mysterious "Trickster" seemed fond of the Rebel Alliance either.

"New orders," One of the Troopers barked, turning to face the rest of the group. "The Trickster wants to see him immediately." This news came as a surprise to the Rebel Spy.

"Were we not meeting this 'Trickster' to begin with?"

"No. All rebel and Empire prisoners are immediately taken into custody for questioning. The Trickster has no time for prisoners."

"Except apparently you," A female voice commented. The mini-brigade parted before the stunning redhead, allowing her access to their prisoner. "He must see something in you, Rebel. Or you're of high rank." The woman gave the Troopers a flirtatious smile, taking ahold of the chain bound to Sherlock's handcuffs. "I'll take it from here, gentlemen. Where are his allies?"

"The only other Rebel got away with one of the Stones, Lady Lorelei." Lady Lorelei became very tight lipped at that.

"I see. Back to your duties."

"Yes, Lady Lorelei." With that, the Stormtroopers took off, leaving the Rebel with his new captor. He figured that this Lady Lorelei must act as a lieutenant to the Trickster based on how the troopers addressed her. Not a difficult a deduction but one that provided a little more insight on his "host." Lady Lorelei wore all black robes similar to a Sith Lord's. But if rumors of the Trickster were true, it was not normal for Sith to ally with one another. So why would the Trickster do so…

The answer was quite simple really, but the "Sith Lord" known as the Trickster still found the Rebel's thoughts and confusion amusing as he watched the scene from his lounge window. His apprentice, Lorelei, was bringing the Rebel prisoner to him on his orders albeit a bit reluctantly. The Trickster, known to a select few as Loki, was well aware of Lorelei's little crush. But he had neither the patience nor time for women who wanted his bed for power. And of course, there was absolutely no trust between them even as master and apprentice.

Loki couldn't deny he got a small amount of pleasure from his apprentice's annoyed jealousy of his prisoner, smirking a little as she kicked him into the room at Loki's feet. "Be gently with our guest, Lorelei. I'd prefer him unharmed please." The apprentice nodded, stepping away from the groaning bundle of Rebel lying at his feet. "Sit up, Rebel."

After a small struggle, the prisoner did manage to sit up on his knees, ice blue eyes glaring daggers through the Sith. Loki had to admit, this rebel was quite the handsome one. He may just have to keep this one all to himself. The prisoner's eyes stood out in stark contrast from between tendrils of midnight black hair. His sharp cheekbones and pale complexion were marred by blood and grime, no doubt from the scuffle with Loki's troopers that brought him here. Something about the Rebel's disheveled state was rather attractive. "Do you have a name, Rebel?" The only response he received was what he had no doubt was a few choice words in Huttese.

"Show some respect, you scum," Lorelei warned as she gave the Rebel a sharp kick in the back. "He asked you a very simple question, worm."

"Lorelei, please. There's no need to berate our guest. He is perhaps still a bit shell shocked from the scuffle." Loki stood, towering over his bound prisoner. A smirk played across his features as the Force – or his manipulation thereof – provided all the information he need. "Sherlock Holmes, is it? Such an interesting name." The look of shock that crossed Sherlock's face sparked a sadistic glee in the Sith Lord's stone heart. The Rebel sighed in resignation.

"I would ask you how exactly you know that but based on the rumors surrounding you I'd say that would be a waste of breath…" Loki chuckled.

"Perhaps. It is only good form that dictated I at least offer you a chance to introduce yourself. You were the one who chose to foul up my presence with such crude curses. As a master of the Force…" Loki noted how Sherlock rolled, clearly one of those queer folk who did not believe in the Force and it's power. "However, I can gather all the information I require with less lip. Now let's see who you are…" A merciless hand dug its way into the prisoner's inky locks, yanking his head back so Loki could better examine him. "Quite the handsome one, aren't you?" The Trickster would have to be careful not to damage this one.

It only took mere moments for Loki to scan and discover the information he desired. "Hmm… A rebel spy and pilot then? So it's a little bird we've captured. You could prove very useful to me. Any stolen secrets of the Empire could prove beneficial." Through his laser focus glare, a flash of shock danced in Sherlock's eyes. "Yet… Where is your partner…? John, I believe it is?" The concerned shock began to drip down onto the Rebel's features though he remained tightlipped.

"The other Rebel fighter managed to escape while this one distracted us," Lorelei explained, glaring daggers through the now smirking pilot. "With… one of the Stones." That made Loki release his prisoner, causing Sherlock to grunt as he flopped onto the unyielding floor.

"How many?"

"They only took one stone, Master."

"No, you twit, how many Rebels were there?"

"It was just John and I." The Rebel explained. "No others." Lorelei scoffed.

"No doubt he's just trying to protect his fellow Alliance scum. I'm sure if we-" A resounding CRACK filled the small lounge as Lorelei stumbled back from her master, nursing the bright red mark on her cheek. If she didn't feel her master's fury in that one strike, Loki might have to consider a new apprentice.

"Go secure the other Stones," he ordered through clenched teeth. "I will correct your belief that you can blatantly lie to me later." The young woman was too stunned to move, only angering the Sith Lord further. "Get. Out. Lorelei." With that final hiss, the apprentice scurried out of the room, leaving Loki alone with his prisoner.

This was in no way good. Loki had worked very, very hard to keep the Stones from falling into the hands of either the Rebel Alliance or the Galactic Empire. The last thing he needed was for the Stones to be discovered and stolen by either side. And if his master discovered how the Rebels had stolen a Stone… The Sith shivered at thought of what would await him should this blunder not be corrected quickly.

"So these 'Stones' are important then?" Sherlock's question brought Loki back to the present and his other problem at hand. What to do with his precious Rebel prisoner. He knew exactly what he wanted to do but that would have to wait a little longer now. So he just flashed the captive a grin.

"They are nothing you need worry your pretty little head about, Little Bird." He gently helped Sherlock back to his feet, subtly pushing him towards the chair the Sith had recently vacated. "However, you will be staying here awhile and I need to see to your safety. I can't have you running off this ship from me." Sherlock fell into the chair when it hit his knees, eyes never leaving his hooded captor. "I usually do not hurry into this process but time is now of the essence and-"

"Let me see your face." The request caught Loki off guard. "If you are going to kill me, you can at least be man enough to lower your hood." The Sith Lord froze at that. No one had ever questioned how he kept his face hidden beneath his hood. Very few were actually alive to tell what he looked like, one of whom probably wouldn't recognize him anymore. He knew what monster he was cursed to hide… and he despised it.

"I don't plan to kill you, Little Bird. I never did. So, no. You will not get to see what lies beneath this hood just yet." Loki knelt before the Rebel, tugging Sherlock's shirt from his belt. Normally he would just mark a new citizen's neck or face with his Mark. However, something in his head, which the trickster had thought long since cold, discouraged him from marring the handsome pilot's face. So Loki chose a well hidden spot where Sherlock's side met his hip. "Just relax."

"What the hell are you doing?!" Sherlock tried to wriggle away from Loki's touch, his bound hands and the confinement of the chair making the effort difficult.

"Calm down, Little Bird. Struggle will only make this hurt worse." The Sith kept a firm grip on the Rebel's side, manipulating the Force surrounding both of them to gather in the one spot. The feeling of tense flesh signaled that the marking process had begun. Loki prayed for Sherlock's sake this would be a quick process as the pilot spy was already sweating from the burn marking caused. "Easy… Easy… You're doing beautifully, Little Bird…" He cooed comfortingly.

"Stop… Stop it please…" The man begged through clenched teeth. The normally stoic Sith found himself extremely tempted to do so. When he had probed his captive's memories, he had seen that it took quite a lot to make Sherlock beg like this.

"Shh… Almost done…" Loki assured, keeping his voice as calm and soothing as possible. Despite his own irritation at the fact that the Marking seemed to be hurting Sherlock more than he had ever seen it hurting anyone. "If I stop now… It'll only things worse… Just relax…" He could already feel the flow of energy beginning to ebb, signally the end of the torturous process. He began to gently brush strands of hair from the handsome face in an attempt to comfort him. "You're doing so well… Just a tiny bit more…" Sherlock flinched away from his touch.

"Bastard…" was all he managed to bite out before finally passing out from the pain. Loki sighed. That was hardly the worst thing he had ever been called. And it wasn't exactly untrue. Luckily for Sherlock, the process had finished, and when he lifted his hand away Sherlock's side bore what looked like a fresh tattoo of a snake curled into a figure eight, eating its own tail.

Well, that is new, Loki thought as he pushed his hood back. Using the Force like that always left him overheated. But it also meant he had to ignore his reflection in any metallic surface for a while. "Well, let's get you into a room, Little Bird."