Okay, once again, I'm really sorry for the wait—I'm re-writing/editing this all as I go, and I'm afraid I am the Queen of Procrastination…or would be, if I could be bothered to try to compete…
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Jaina-Elessar: I'm blushing. Thanks! And don't worry about posting—I'm always late, and I'm the author—the only one obligated to actually show up! ;P
Galadia: Thanks! I'm glad Jaina's added POV was a success—I was a little worried it would be too repetitious.
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Always: Book I: Dejarik
Chapter Seven: A Close Call
It was disgusting. Two months—barely that!—and Brakiss' Darkest Knight was falling to pieces over the Solo girl. Brakiss thought of ripping his apprentice's throat out, just for being weak. Solo had always been Zekk's weakness; even Onyx was susceptible to her. But he had not spent five years on the street rat for nothing; Onyx was Brakiss' masterpiece—flawed, true, and incomplete, but not something Brakiss was willing to give up.
"Lord Onyx has taken a new girl," the Emperor said aloud now, staring out the window.
"The girls die within days," the Dark Jedi behind him dismissed. "Onyx has never been good with the morning after."
"He is better at it than you," he retorted—he spoke of the typical, loving morning after; Brakiss did not believe in such a thing. Love…love was weakness.
"I find no comfort with women."
Brakiss turned to see this man—Devnos Klis, a ruthless Dark Jedi. Hard corners, dark hair and eyes, Devnos commanded fear from those around him. If Onyx failed, Brakiss would find a replacement in this one—but Onyx was not yet lost, as Devnos well knew. Jealousy, like ambition, was a useful tool.
You, Klis, find comfort with nothing I can see, Brakiss considered, but he did not ask after Devnos' tastes—well, not seriously, at the very least. "Then with men, Klis?"
Devnos made a sound of disgust.
"Indeed," Brakiss said, smiling coldly, "your planet suggests such a taste."
The muscle in Devnos' cheek twitched: the only sign of his distaste and anger. The subject of his home planet was never well received by this man. "You called me for a reason, Lord Emperor?"
Devnos really was no fun. "This girl—Onyx will not kill her."
"He always kills them. Or gets rid of them." Something flicked across Devnos' face—anger? Disappointment? Brakiss would think on it later.
"Not this one." He did not elaborate. "There will be a banquet tomorrow night. No doubt the girl will find some way to wiggle out of it—it is not in her interests to be around large numbers of Imperials."
"Onyx will…leave her?" This was a twist for Devnos—he knew nothing of the Solo girl, or Onyx's obsession, or Zekk's pathetic infatuation, with her.
"She is a Jedi, so be prepared for some resistance." Brakiss fixed Devnos with a glare. "Some."
Devnos stood where he was, dark eyes expressionless.
"You are excused for preparation."
----
Jaina woke to a pounding on her door. "Hm?" When the sound continued, she made a noise in the back of her throat and hefted herself out of the tiny cot, wrapping the black blanket around her, her feet sinking into the plush carpet as she padded across the floor of her prison. Keying the lock pad, the door slid open, revealing Lord Onyx to Jaina's fuzzy, under-rested eyes.
"Jedi Solo," he hissed, his eyes taking in her dishevelled appearance. In the past month Jaina still hadn't gotten used to the lust in his eyes, but had learned that if she didn't react, he removed his gaze more quickly.
The Force was with her this time, and his gaze lasted only a moment before he snapped, "The Lord Emperor commands our presence for a banquet tonight, in honour of our success at Kuat."
"'Success'?" Jaina repeated numbly.
"Yes," Onyx sneered. "Kuat, and with it the ship yards to crush your precious New Republic, has surrendered to the Empire."
"Oh."
Onyx watched her take it in, silently rejoicing in the quietness of her tone and her struggle to remain impassive. She was learning quickly, but not quickly enough to escape her destiny by his side. It was only a matter of time—of pressure—before she turned.
"Your outfit will arrive at 1600. We leave at 1930. That should give you enough time to prepare."
This time Jaina kept her face and Force presence clean of any emotion, negative or otherwise. Onyx nodded his approval and she glared at him, heedless of the consequences. Before Jaina could blink, a syringe stabbed the fleshy part of her shoulder and dumped its contents into her system. The shock of her midichlorians being numbed and her Force awareness melting away sent her to her knees. Onyx, expecting the pain that was to come, shielded himself from any emotions that might leak through their bond.
"When will you learn, Solo?" he asked quietly, neither expecting nor receiving an answer. Then, louder, "I certainly hope you don't act like this at the banquet. It would be…unfortunate…if the Emperor felt you would do better under his care than mine." He smiled thinly before leaving to train the newer Force-sensitives his master had sent him.
And before Zekk tried anything.
----
It took her one glance in the mirror to convince her that this would be one of the battles she picked.
To say that she would not be able to wear the outfit without showing an uncomfortable amount of skin would be a lie of Death Star proportions. The top, made of shier black material, was border-line explicit. Cut short to show all her midriff and a far amount of skin above, it was enough to make Jaina blush, but not so bad that she would risk Onyx's wrath. Not to mention slavery to Brakiss, with which Onyx had already threatened her. There was however, the tightness and squared neckline that Jaina would have worn on her wedding night but not at any other time.
The pants, also black, were almost bearable, though completely unable to make up for the "shirt". Alderaanian satin, and not shier like the top, the pants slung low on her hip and tight before flaring out until it looked as if she were wearing a skirt instead of pants. On her feet were strappy sandals with four-inch heels. She'd trip wearing them, and she had the feeling that was Onyx's intention, as it would keep her incapable of fighting back.
No way, she thought angrily as she changed back into her normal clothes. If Onyx thinks I'm going to dress like one of his pleasure slaves or dancers, he's got another thought coming.
----
Tiny, that is, in the way that the remains of Alderaan created a "tiny" asteroid field. He began walking toward his quarters quickly, leaving one of his older trainees in charge.
/I suggest you wear it, Solo,/ he sent through their bond, although he already had more than a hunch as to what her reaction would be.
/No way in any of the nine Corellian hells, Onyx!/ Jaina all but bellowed back. He wondered if she'd actually said it aloud and, if she had, why he couldn't hear her.
/The Lord Emperor—/
/Has his own pleasure slaves to look at!/
/If you keep this up, you'll join their ranks!/ he retorted. It was an empty threat. While Zekk was around, nothing so explicitly dangerous to Jaina's…health would happen without Zekk's protest. Zekk, Onyx had begun to learn, was a vicious adversary when it came to Jaina's well-being. However, empty threat or not, the silence on Jaina's end of their bond told him he had hit a vulnerable spot.
/I am not going to wear that top, Onyx,/ she sent quietly. /I don't care about the pants but I am not going to wear that…"top" without anything underneath it./
/Then I will notify the Emperor of your move to his quarters./ Having already prepared himself, the battle between Onyx and Zekk was brief.
/I won't wear it./ Onyx barely made out the quiet, obviously scared message as he came to the door of his chambers. /I won't./
Lord Onyx walked through the door.
----
Jaina watched as Onyx came in, Dark power emanating from him in waves. She lifted her chin defiantly. "I won't wear it. I have more self-respect than that."
Onyx didn't respond verbally, but grabbed her arm and began to drag her out.
Jaina had to swallow twice before she found the ability—and the courage—to speak. "Where are you taking me?" Her bravery was in vain, however, as he did not reply. "Onyx," she tried sharply. "I am not one of your slaves to—"
"Oh, but you are," he corrected, looking down at her, pulling her head up by her hair sharply. "You are mine to do with as I wish. It's time you got off your almighty," he yanked hard, causing her to give a quiet yelp of pain, "hovercar and learned that."
"Onyx." Jaina put as much menace into her voice as she could whilst being dragged through the halls of the Imperial Palace by a man who alternately lusted for and hated her. "Let me go. I mean it—"
Onyx growled and entered an empty training room, throwing Jaina into the centre of the room and locking the door behind them. "Do you think this is a game, Solo?" he demanded. "Do you think I'm not serious about turning you over to the Emperor?" When Jaina didn't answer, he thrust out a hand and called Darkness to his fingertips, releasing it in a furious jolt of anger and hatred. Zekk roared angrily as Jaina fell to the floor, a whimper of pain escaping her. "Answer me when I ask you something!"
Jaina pulled herself up from the floor, her hair spilling around her shoulders. Although shaken, her expression was disdainful. "I won't turn because of a little Dark lightning, Onyx. If that's your game plan, you're going to fail pretty badly."
"Oh, so the righteous little princess has decided to grace me with her words, has she?" Onyx sneered. "You always did think you were better than me—and everyone else, for that matter."
Jaina shook her head. "Wrong—on both accusations."
"Won't even admit the truth now, Solo?"
"I always told Zekk everything I could, Onyx."
Onyx slapped her to the floor. "Watch your words, Solo," he hissed. "I am the only obstacle between you and your destruction."
"How can you destroy someone who is already dead?" she muttered, thinking of Jacen's death and her mother's betrayal.
"What was that?" Onyx snapped, Zekk rebelling against him once more. Splitting his attention was dangerous; every time he had to concentrate on suppressing Zekk and speaking to her, Zekk seemed to come that much closer to escaping.
"You're treading dangerous ground, Jaina. Bury your grief deep or the Emperor and Lord Onyx will exploit it."
"Nothing."
Zekk beaten back once more, Onyx studied her briefly before turning away. "Good." He paused momentarily. "You are to wear the outfit I sent you. You will behave accordingly and—"
"No." Jaina lifted her tired body from the floor and stood, eyes clear and hands steady. Seeing Onyx's icy green eyes flash, she swallowed and repeated, "No."
Onyx felt Darkness fly through his veins, overwhelming every emotion but anger and hatred. "Very well then." Onyx picked an electro-jabber and started toward Jaina.
Jaina closed her eyes and accepted the consequences of her defiance.
----
Hiding his discomfiture with the ease of years of practice, Onyx took a sip of wine and attempted to distract himself with the brunette sitting next to him. Dressed in the outfit Onyx had planned on seeing Jaina wear, the dancing girl resembled Jaina so strongly that even Jacen would have looked twice. The differences were slight—the dancer lived to be seductively attractive though it was likely to wither once her peak ended, while Jaina's beauty was natural, pure and—if her mother was any indication—timeless.
Allowing his eyes to wander over the dancer in a way that he had yet to even think of doing with Jaina, he decided that if Jaina insisted on being so stubborn, this dancer was the next best choice.
Not that it would help the dancer any.
"See something you like, my Lord?" the dancer—was her name Narai?—purred, leaning closer. Despite her words, a part of her aura read detached—odd, for a slave girl.
Onyx attempted a smile. "A piece of art that I would be interested in studying, my lady."
An almost wolfish smile spread across her face as her eyes darkened. Somehow, the two didn't appear to coincide in emotions. "Well, perhaps we shall find a break in the banquet to study this…'piece of art' together," she invited.
"Perhaps," he agreed, trying to push down Zekk and the image of Jaina, not as he had left her—though even bruised there had been beauty to her—but as he had always remembered her, whether as Zekk or Onyx. The way he saw her in his dreams—the only worthwhile memory he had of when Zekk was in control. But, he reminded himself, now was not the time to think of Jaina Solo, but to forget her.
There was a powerful ripple throughout the Force as Brakiss, with a powerful holo-mask—made all but real with a Force illusion—that made him appear to be Emperor Palpatine, entered the room, two of his Imperial Guards following close behind.
"What is this?" he demanded in a distantly jovial way, rather unlike the actual Palpatine. "Why is no one dancing? The Rebels will soon be crushed." When no one moved, the Emperor looked to his Darkest Knight and protégé. "Lord Onyx! I see you have a beautiful woman by your side—will you not dance with her?"
Onyx pursed his lips but forced a smile. "Of course, my Lord Emperor," he said, bowing deeply to his master then, bending slightly at the waist, to his female companion. "Would you do me the honour of this dance?"
Narai—or was it Saran? He never could remember their names—smiled and accepted his offered hand. "The honour would be mine, my Lord," she said, sounding innocent, almost vulnerable, and so much—and so little—like Jaina that Onyx had to notice how false she—and all the women he had known—were. Compared to the brunette he had beaten and locked into the training room... No, there was no comparison. Not a one could measure up.
Onyx smiled and led Saran—or was it Nisan?—to the dance floor, when all he wanted to do was grimace and sink to the floor, mourning over what he might never—and maybe could have—had with Jaina.
----
With Lord Onyx, no one knew quite how they would be treated. Some girls—the ones, Sanar suspected, that had not slept with him—came back showered in jewels, looking like queens and with a twinkle in their eye that spoke of a knowing many became desperate to have. Sanar found it a beautiful thing of fate to know that all the girls who came back looked much like her. All, however—even the ones Onyx favoured—disappeared eventually, and so the dancing girls and pleasure slaves were torn between fantasizing and being terrified of the day they would be called.
Sanar, however, had never been faint of heart.
Four years ago, Onyx had saved her life. About to be stoned on her home planet, Sanar had given up hope, and then…
And then.
Out of the corner of her eye, she had spotted a black-clad, marble figure. At first he had been only vaguely interested by what was happening, casting a curious eye over the rabble. But then had doubled back, eyes locking on her, softening for a split second before he raised his shields again. Abruptly, he had marched through the crowd, hurrying up to her and ordering Wyplan to drop his rocks.
The Empire had always had a little control on her home planet; at the very least, they had contacts. So her would-be executioners had stopped when Onyx ordered her pardon. She had walked away, free in body if not from the memories, and had even been given a ride off-planet. She had not seen Onyx again after he saved her, but her brother's stories of heroes had been brought forward in her mind.
It took a year for a Dark Jedi to discover her and her Force potential. It took another long year of training, bribery and seduction to be chosen as one of Lord Onyx's dancers.
He didn't recognize her—she knew that. But she knew him, and…pityingly enough…she hoped he would be different. For years the male gender had stomped all over her dignity, taking everything she had; Onyx had returned a piece of it. Such an act…that deserved a reward, didn't it? At least, with Onyx, she would not be forced into his bed.
Sanar had nothing to lose.
----
Jaina looked up as someone—make that someones—came into the room. Jaina didn't have to reach out with the Force to know they were Dark. "Well, what have we here?" a voice asked mockingly as the lights flicked on.
Jaina blinked against the bright light to see five Dark Jedi—just under Onyx in rank, judging by their swagger—beginning to move toward her corner of the room. Her instincts flaring, Jaina attempted to stand and nearly screeched from the agony. If she hadn't known that her injuries had re-opened as a result of coming out of a healing trance so abruptly, she would have thought the Force returning to her was merely a hallucination on her part. Using the Force to boost her strength, Jaina met the leading man's eye defiantly—something that seemed to be getting her in a lot of trouble lately.
One of men, not the one Jaina had engaged in a stare down, reached out to caress her cheek but backed away when Jaina snarled at him. "She wears the robe of a slave," he remarked thoughtfully, his eyes skimming over her curves in a way that made Jaina long for anyone else's—even Onyx's—gaze.
The leader's eyes met Jaina's and she saw not the lustful beast that she would have preferred—it would be easier to accept—but the eyes of an intelligent young man who knew what he wanted.
And how to get it.
"Yes," the leader murmured. "That she does." He paused for a moment before flashing what Jaina guessed was supposed to be a charming smile. "So tell me, my pretty one: Who do you belong to?"
She glared up at him, continuing to allow the Force to fill her. "No one, and never you, loser," she gritted out.
The five Dark men smiled and, despite Jaina's best efforts, fear struck her heart.
----
Onyx's lips thinned and he subtly strengthened his shields to hide his anger and near-hatred toward the man beside him. "The last I saw her she was lying on the floor in room T683 where I left her."
"You never change, Lord Onyx." Brakiss smirked scornfully.
"My private affairs are my own matter," Onyx gritted out. "You need not concern yourself with them."
"Come now, my young apprentice; when you make yourself this predictable your matters are no longer private."
Onyx gave the Emperor a cold stare. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
The Emperor scowled darkly. "Whenever your Jaina thwarts you, you bring some willing look-alike, then kill them because they don't 'satisfy' you. You make a fool of the Empire and yourself over a girl. There are times, Onyx, when you prove yourself unworthy of being my Darkest Knight."
Lord Onyx tensed, his temper rising. "The apprentice reflects the master, my Lord Emperor."
Brakiss' face darkened. "Remember this, child: I took you in when no one wanted you; I made you who are today. I have given you everything—and I can take it all away." With a last glare, the Emperor left his fuming apprentice on the side of the dance floor.
----
Jaina chose her moment to fight back carefully. Her body, damaged as it was, would never be a match for six men. No matter how convincingly childhood fairy tales said good always won over evil, she knew her limit. She would only have one chance to use the element of surprise, the only ally she had in her situation.When the leader—cut off the head of a snake and it dies, she reminded herself—leaned in, his hands cupping toward her neck, Jaina threw her fist out, allowing it to connect with his jaw, just as Mara had taught her. The added Force-power behind her punch caused the shocked man to fly across the room.
Using every pain-relieving technique she had ever learned and many she had only heard of, Jaina stood—painfully—and walked toward the exit as quickly as she could. She hoped desperately that her daring move would cause the men freeze in shock, allowing her to escape.
No such luck.
One of the men, a redhead, recovered quickly and shot electricity from his fingers into her bloody back, causing her to fall to the ground in agony.
When she managed to force her eyes open once more, the men were moving toward her, their expressions alternating between lustful and furious. She closed her eyes again. Owch, she whimpered silently, just before the kick flying toward her head sent her into quiet oblivion.
----
As he focused inward, the cry echoed through his mind once more, this time more pained and desperate.
It echoed through him a third time, more faintly than the first two sounds. This time, he recognized the "voice" with a sick jolt. Jaina, Onyx and Zekk gasped at the same time as they felt the only person they both held close cry out.
----
Sanar watched, dumbfounded, as Onyx pulled his clothes and robe on impossibly fast, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. "My Lord?" she repeated. What was going on? Had the Emperor summoned him? "What is it?"He didn't answer as he grabbed his lightsaber from his bedstead. He all but ran out the door, leaving Sanar to wonder at Lord Onyx's odd behaviour and at the odd Force ripple she had felt pass through him and the very atmosphere.
----
Devnos had always made it his business to know who was on his side, and so he was quite aware of his place among the Emperor's favoured. When he had been discovered four years ago, the Emperor had taken more time training him than with any other trainee. Still, when Brakiss had told Devnos that he would soon be the new Darkest Knight, Devnos had known that this was merely Brakiss' way of getting rid of Onyx. To most, the idea of plotting against Onyx was terrifying; even Brakiss, Devnos had been disgusted to realize, possessed an overdue amount of fear in regards to his star apprentice. If killing Onyx hadn't fit with Devnos' own plans, he wouldn't have bothered.
Pushing his disdain away for later, Devnos returned to the present as he watched Onyx race through the halls in a way most unbefitting of the Darkest Knight of the Empire. Who would have thought that Lord Onyx, a Sith apprentice with powers rivalling those of Vader, would have a weakness for such a fragile, if spirited, girl? Devnos smiled grimly as he remembered how it had taken only one kick to knock the girl out, stopping her from causing any more trouble. Too easy.
He glanced at the holocam screen, zooming in on the view of the girl. All Onyx's dancers looked alike, but this one was obviously the girl Onyx had been trying to find in his slaves. Onyx was far too smug; it would be a pleasure to watch him as his precious girl died, even as Onyx could do nothing to save her—her, the only thing that Onyx still cared for. If her death didn't destroy the Darkest Knight, nothing would.
Devnos smiled when he felt Onyx approach the training room. A pleasure indeed.
----
I had raced through hallways in a fog, until I felt Jaina, far too faintly for my liking, on the other side of the door. At first, I had expected Zekk or Onyx to fight against it, but for once they were unified in their sentiments: Jaina was precious. Anyone who attempted to hurt her would be ripped to shreds.
For the first time in years, I felt Onyx listen to one of Zekk's plans.
But my shock of the millennia came next, as Onyx moved to the side, letting Zekk join him in the driver's seat.
I pushed through the door, allowing both Onyx's and Zekk's determined rage boost my power to a new level.
Whoever was hurting Jaina would pay.
(End of Onyx/Zekk POV)
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Suddenly realizing just how furious Onyx was, Devnos shuddered, wondered if this was it.
He watched, curiously still, as Onyx slaughtered the Dark Jedi—all trained as assassins by the very best—one by one. Devnos had seen Onyx fight many times, but never before had he seen the Darkest Knight battle as he did now. Every move was precise and deadly. It was a ruthless, dreadful dance, and Devnos wondered if the sight would ever leave him.
When Onyx grabbed the last Dark Jedi, he yelled something that Devnos could not understand. The intent, however, was obvious: Onyx planned to interrogate the man. Devnos reached out with the Force and crushed the assassin's windpipe, killing him instantly, before turning and stalking from the viewing room.
He was thwarted, this time, but he would be back. His ambition demanded it.
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Alright, not to excuse my extreme and constant lateness, but I have been doing other stuff—working on my new website, for one, but also posting a new vignette, The Tally. It's Jaina/Zekk…ish… Which reminds me, to your comment, Jaina-Elessar—yes, of course Zekk gets the girl! But does Jaina get the guy? Hmm… But that'll be explained later ;)
Please R&R!
-Tjz