Nikkitis stood outside of Overseer Tremel's office for what she knew would be the last time, come what may, frozen by what she faced and the turmoil it caused her. She'd been tasked with killing him, and the idea didn't sit well with her. She plopped down on the steps leading down to where she could feel him sitting and fretting, and stared blankly at the equally blank wall in front of her. There had to be some way to meet both Darth Baras's - Darth Bantha Burger's - demands, and her own sense of morality. She felt unnaturally heavy at the idea of Tremel expiring at her hand.

I have to be insane. Morality amongst the Sith? They kill their friends and subordinates for the simplest of blunders, or just for the fun of it! But, still. I cannot allow who I am be swallowed whole by the allure and corruption of the Dark Side. How will I prove them all wrong if I do so, if I work for my own gain?

She sighed quietly as she mulled over her dilemma. The idea struck her with the same ferocity as she had beaten the tuk'ata the day before: Baras had only asked for Tremel's hand as proof. She had to try, even if it meant losing face to Tremel. If he accepted, she could have his hand for Baras, and save his life at the same time. She was unsure, once more, of human convention. If she proposed saving his life, would he be offended? And again, as a Sith, would he be disgusted by her attempt at mercy, and force her to kill him anyway? Worry clawed at her stomach as she sat there, and she had to stand up to pace as she tapped her bottom lip with her thumb in concentration.

Once again, she found herself thinking of how her situation would differ if she had been taken in by the Jedi instead of the Sith. Perhaps she was soft, but not in her mind, as Baras had so rudely assumed. She would rather be mistaken for a Jedi, be merciful, and be owed a favor than be overtaken with bloodlust, like her fellows. She was sure that would make her a target one day, but she believed that if she showed that there was more than one side to the Sith, to those within and without the Empire, she would make the Empire stronger. She'd been given this power by the Will of the Force, after all.

She'd wasted enough time deliberating her available routes. She only had three choices, anyway: run, kill Tremel, or try to reason with him. She stopped pacing and bit her thumb nail as she willed her sudden nausea away.

What if this doesn't work?...Oh, shut up, brain. No use in "what ifs" at this juncture. I just have to try.

She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she fully committed to trying to reason with him, and the mental weight lifted from her as soon as she took her next step down the stairs towards Tremel. She could hear her heart beating in her ears as she got closer.

Tremel was sitting behind his desk and he half smiled at her when he saw who was interrupting him this time.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon. Has Baras sent you back to me?"

"Your instincts are sharp, Overseer. Baras ordered me to kill you," she said, feeling nauseous again at the words coming out of her mouth.

"Then I have been outplayed," he admitted with the barest hint of a sigh. "Baras has the authority, but I did not think he would do something this overt. Either I die, or he forces me to kill you and destroy my own plan. A master stroke. Very well. You have your orders, acolyte. Know that it gives me no pleasure to kill you."

"Hold on, it doesn't have to come to this, Tremel," she suggested, holding a hand up to try to signal to him that she had an alternate course. He seemed not to notice.

"Do not hedge now. This is the way of the Sith." He stepped out from behind his desk towards her, his hand falling loosely to his side, ready to grab his lightsaber. "I'll try to make your end quick and painless. It's the least I can do."

No. This...This isn't what I wanted at all!

She crouched slightly, grabbing her warblade - the one he sent me to get - and preparing herself for the very real possibility that he wouldn't allow her the opportunity she needed. She breathed in deeply and held it for a moment before she heard the sound of his lightsaber igniting.

She felt like she blinked and the fight was over, the remnants of her Force lightning making the tips of her fingers buzz with energy, and his lightsaber retracted as he collapsed, holding his wounded side. She must have completely given herself over to her instincts and the Force because the whole fight only came back to her as a haze of reds and blacks and grays with no real shapes. Her breathing was regular, unlike his, and she could feel his adrenaline through the Force, whereas she was as calm as she had ever been.

"No. I'm amazed. I knew you were strong in the Force, but... not like this. You're more than ready to challenge Vemrin. Baras -" he huffed "- won't be able to deny that now. He'll have the satisfaction of my death, but -" he huffed again "-I die knowing my success. Go ahead...end this."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," she maintained a calm voice, but in her head, she was surprised at herself. "I only need your hand."

She felt like she wasn't whole, like her soul was only two-thirds inside of her actual body as she tried to press her point in her body language.

That's not good. I have to stay focused, though.

"What? Wait, I think I understand. Baras demands my hand, proof of my death? I don't want your pity, acolyte."

"It's not pity, Overseer. I don't want you to die."

"I'm a credit to the dark side. My cause is just. You can see clearly, even if Baras cannot... Take my hand."

She could see the tiny movements his face made as he stood upright again, trying to hide his pain from her. Grabbing his lightsaber again, he ignited it, and, in one swift strike, cut off his hand.

"Well," he humorlessly chuckled, his voice strained, "that didn't tickle. I'll rest and then leave Korriban covertly."

He turned off his lightsaber and placed it back at his side. The wound instantly cauterized thanks to the extreme heat from the lightsaber, so there was no real blood anywhere, other than that spilled during the fight.

"I wish it could have been otherwise. This outcome was unfortunate."

"Agreed, but as long as you live, there is hope. Cast Vemrin out, and the final triumph will be ours."

He looked at her with hope, and she thought she detected a hint of pride there, too. He dipped his head in a mildly deferential way.

"Goodbye."

She made her way back to Baras with his hand, feeling guilty, happy, proud, confused, and worried all at once. She'd succeeded at keeping Tremel alive and getting the proof Baras demanded, but would she be able to hide her deceit from him?