Ashes of Time

by FallenAscendant

The Jedi took his life away, the Sith forced him into another but it was the Empire that gave him purpose. Glailen Reichscher learned that the galaxy is a place of many threats and little mercy. Now he's resolved to become the deadliest of those threats and never be at the mercy of another ever again. But would he live long enough for it to make a difference?

7. Chapter Six: Heart of an Empire

Chapter 6: Heart of an Empire

Setting foot on Korriban had resonated with the Sith and Dark Side in Glailen but reaching Dromund Kaas spoke to his Imperial pride. After the operation against the Brentaal Star, the Black Talon's voyage had been uneventful just as Glailen had wanted – had needed. Waking to the announcement that they had reached the Kaas system had been satisfying. He wouldn't say he was fully rested but Glailen was doing much better than he had been and that was good enough for the time being. Actually, departing the Black Talon had been something of an awkward affair with the crew. Despite everything they'd accomplished, there remained the wounds of when Glailen had terrorized the Talon. As Glailen and Vette boarded their shuttle to the farewells of Orvik and Sylas, the Sith could sense a wave of relief come over those gathered. It was a fair response. Now the pair of travellers had reached the world they sought.

Stepping off the shuttle and walking through the spaceport, Glailen appraised his surroundings. Vette was also openly surveying the area as her head moved from side to side but it was more from how uncomfortable she felt about where they were. There was nothing to be done for it and Glailen suspected nothing he could say to ease her mind either. All he could do was trust she would become accustomed to their surroundings. Glailen, on the other hand, appreciated what he saw. It seemed to him that the spaceport was much like the Empire itself; neat, organized and on high alert. Dromund Kaas was probably the most well protected world in the Empire, perhaps the galaxy, but that didn't mean it was immune to danger. Spies, saboteurs, assassins and more could infiltrate the world if security was not sufficient. Unless one was a Sith, evidently. Glailen and Vette walked through more than one security checkpoint simply by virtue of it being obvious one of them was a Sith. That was something that stood out quite insistently to Glailen. A glaring flaw in the planet's security to his mind. He considered making mention of it but decided against it. Who of any significant status would listen to a lowly apprentice? Maybe one day, when there was more weight behind his words, he would remember the concern and try to get something done about it. For now, he had to drop the issue. That was fine considering he had somewhere to be.

Despite the large size of the spaceport, it didn't take long for Glailen and Vette to find their way out. They stopped just outside the entrance in order to get their bearings. Glailen looked around, taking stock of the security along the perimeter and scanning the treeline a couple hundred meters away. The spaceport was the largest on the planet and nearest to Kaas City but was a few miles away from the city border. Unsurprisingly there were many vehicles flying towards the port and just as many leaving in various directions, most going towards the same point. Glailen suspected he would be joining them soon as he spotted where hovercabs, waiting to offer their services to new arrivals to the planet, sat eagerly. Glailen started forward but stopped upon realizing Vette wasn't following. He looked back at her with a questioning eyebrow. She was looking around much as he had a moment earlier but with less appreciation for the surroundings.

"Dark, threatening and with a perpetual feeling of rain."

"It rains often in this area," supplied Glailen. Vette nodded without looking his way.

"Just how I'd expect the capital of the Sith Empire to look and feel. Didn't think there would be so many trees but they're creepy enough to fit in." Vette added a shrug for emphasis as she walked up to Glailen. He offered a half-hearted shrug of his own before responding.

"Should probably get used to this world. If all goes well then, we'll be spending a lot of time here." The twi'lek raised a questioning eyebrow.

"And if things don't go well?"

"We'll be dead," stated Glailen as he began to turn away. He stopped short as Vette held up a hand at about shoulder height, palm up.

"Seeing the sights on Dromund Kaas or," she lifted her other hand to mirror the first, "death." Glailen considered how his companion weighed the possible outcomes but decided she missed a crucial point. He faced her, raising his hands to mimic hers before bringing them together.

"Dying whilst seeing the sights on Dromund Kaas. This is not a safe world."

"Are you saying even the heart of the Sith Empire isn't safe in this wacky galaxy?" asked Vette with a hint of sarcasm that was not lost on Glailen. Even so, he couldn't keep the confusion from his tone.

"Of course, it isn't. Nowhere is safe."

Considering the matter settled, Glailen turned and resumed his approach to the nearest hovercab. Vette followed a step behind. It was just as well they didn't continue talking out in the open as a light rain began as they reached the vehicle. They hurriedly got in and the driver, a droid, perked up.

"Greetings, sir. Where would you like to go?"

"The Sith Temple, Kaas City," responded Glailen as he settled in. There wasn't as much leg room as he would have liked but it wouldn't be a long trip.

"Right away. Please remain seated during transit." Without further preamble the hovercab lurched into motion, rising until it floated well above the nearby trees. The cab sped off towards its destination with only a slight rocking motion from the stormy winds gathering strength.

Glailen rested his head on a fist as he stared out the window without really seeing anything. He couldn't deny a certain level of anticipation at not only seeing Kaas City with his own eyes but more importantly the Sith Temple, from which the Empire's fate was decided each day. There he would encounter the most powerful Sith alive; he would see those who stood at a level he aspired to reach. Yes, he was nervous; as Vette appeared to be given her constant fidgeting. Or perhaps she was bored. More likely, Glailen had to acknowledge, she was worried. Being a Force-blind twi'lek in the middle of the Sith Empire and about to set foot in the seat of Sith power had to be…a unique experience. She had Glailen's sympathy and he promised himself he would try to look out for her but for the time being their fates were intertwined.

"Wow."

The one-word statement from Vette pulled Glailen out of his thoughts. He looked around for what had caught her attention but he didn't have to look hard. A heartbeat later and they were officially within Kaas City. The mighty metropolis sprawled in all directions and seeing it all in person did not disappoint. On a world as prone to storms as Dromund Kaas, not many buildings were erected to heights that could be considered dazzling on other worlds. Certainly not when compared to Coruscant. What Kaas City lacked in its reach to the clouds, however, it made up for with its claim to the world's core. A few kilometers past the gates and the ground suddenly plunged revealing a wide and deep pit that was covered in the Empire's architecture. The majority of the city's inhabitants, both rich and poor, lived below the surface. Other cities on Dromund Kaas followed the same design but none came close to the frightening scope of Kaas City.

Glailen saw Vette give a small shudder as she tried to take it all in. Kaas City was a unique sight and it had different effects on people. For some it could be intimidating to behold, especially during a storm such as the one rolling into the city behind their cab. For others it offered a more stabilizing feeling; a display of the Empire's might. Glailen didn't fall under either. Instead he felt a powerful eagerness to serve.

To serve the Empire.

He would get his opportunity soon as he leaned back in his seat. Looking through the front viewport of the cab, he could see their destination. At the center of the city and elevated to the surface stood several large connected structures. They all had an important purpose to the Empire, Glailen knew, but the one that held his gaze was the largest among them. The Sith Temple seemed to stare back, beckoning he draw closer – so that he may finally prove his worth.

"It's a little beautiful in an ominous kind of way," said Vette with a forced chuckle. Glailen took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly through his nose.

"It's truly something to behold." The words came out nearly a whisper, earning Vette's attention.

"This must be pretty special for you. Like coming home?" Glailen cocked his head, considering, before shrugging.

"I suppose. As near as, perhaps."

It wasn't long before the hovercab touched down on one of the landing pads. Glailen swiped his finance card, a card linking him to the bank account given to him by the Sith Order and to which his credits were transferred, without checking the cost. However much he lost on rides like this one, he was sure he would make it all back before long. Leaving the vehicle, Glailen took several steps before stopping and gazing up at the temple. His eyes tried to take in every detail as he turned up to see the very top. There were a few buildings in the city that stood taller but that was fine for the Sith Temple demanded more respect than all the others.

Vette stepped up next to him. He looked down at her; she was staring ahead at the entrance where dozens of Imperials – mainly Sith – entered and exited the structure. Silent guards dressed in the red uniforms of the Empire's elite stood watch, ready to defend the center of Imperial power and authority. Vette blew out a shaky breath, no doubt allowing her imagination to run unchecked. Gingerly Glailen reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. Her attention snapped to him, eyes wide with a mix of shock that he was touching her and guilt that he'd caught her unguarded.

"It will be okay, Vette. You will be leaving the temple."

"Leaving's not the part I'm worried about…"

"You'll be fine, I promise." He held her gaze another moment, squeezing her shoulder gently before letting his hand fall away. Glailen began walking forward without hesitation. They couldn't stand back forever. A couple of heartbeats later and Glailen heard Vette hurrying to catch up. He looked back and nodded approval. She was brave, sometimes she needed a little encouragement but she had yet to disappoint him.

Glailen strode forward confidently. He was Sith, he belonged here. The guards, at least, seemed to agree as they didn't stop him from entering. They didn't even spare an obvious glance for Vette. As they walked in the world outside ceased to exist. Gone were the sounds of city life and the rumbling of a brewing storm, replaced by a silence. It wasn't complete as there was still the shuffle of footsteps, murmured chatter and hum of machines operating, but it was all too easy to feel like there was no sound. Glailen carried himself lightly, subconsciously picking up on the disturbance he would have caused with stomping feet. Everyone seemed to be under the same spell. As though to break the fragile silence would be the height of impolite conduct and frowned upon.

Earning the disapproval of the Sith around him was not how Glailen wanted his first visit to the Temple to go and so he did his best not to stand out. He didn't have to try too hard as just about everyone ignored him completely in favour of their own concerns. But not all. Those few who did acknowledge his existence gave only scornful stares. He knew those stares; they had been all too common during his time as an initiate. Weakness was not something Sith looked upon with much other than derision. It was different this time though, as an initiate Glailen had been ignorant of the ways of the Sith and the Force but now he was expected – no, he was being dared – to prove himself. Passing his trials on Korriban hadn't made him Sith in the truest sense. He was still a student and he needed to show he could be more.

Glailen walked with his back straight and head held high. He wouldn't challenge others but nor would he allow himself to be cowed by simple looks. It was, however, hard not to look lost in unfamiliar territory given he didn't actually know where his master's chambers were. Thankfully it wasn't too difficult to get the attention of one of the many droids going about their various tasks. The droid provided directions but was apparently too busy to show the way. Glailen was fine with it. Being led around by a droid was certain not to gain him any favour with the Sith who saw. Despite the size of the Temple, it was fairly easy to locate Baras' chambers after being given some idea of where to go.

Glailen stopped at a doorway, from which a flight of stairs led down to a landing that turned left out of sight. He looked around but saw no indication of where this path led. Even being reasonably sure he was at the right place, the possibility of going down those stairs and interrupting a discussion between two Darths caused him to hesitate. I've kept my Master waiting long enough already. This is no time for you to lose your nerve, Glailen. Shaking his head, the young Sith began his descent down the stairs; Vette followed close behind. There was a short hallway at the bottom of the stairs, leading to a set of doors. Beyond them Glailen could feel Baras' presence. With so many powerful Force users around it had been hard to pick out his master's unique signature but now there was no doubt. Glailen stopped short of reaching for the buzzer on the intercom. He turned around.

"Vette–"

"I'll have to meet the guy eventually. Can't always hang back while you talk to the boss." She winked at him; a gesture meant to help defuse the tension as Glailen well knew. It had little impact. Vette was a mass of fear and anxiety, clear indicators of both not belonging and wanting to be anywhere else. Such unrestrained emotion would be impossible for a Sith to overlook. But being afraid…that's probably nothing Baras isn't used to.

"No, you're right," Glailen conceded.

Steeling himself, Glailen hit the buzzer on the intercom. The doors slid open almost immediately. Glailen was momentarily surprised but collected himself quickly. If he could feel his master than the reverse was surly true as well. Baras had probably been wondering what was taking Glailen so long to announce himself at the door and growing impatient by the delay. Unwilling to make his master wait any longer, Glailen strode through the opening and found himself in a decently sized room. Some kind of work space was Glailen's first assessment of his surroundings and he could see another room through the only other door. It appeared to be more like an office of sorts though he could only guess. What was most important to take notice of was the only person present, standing in the far corner of the room.

Darth Baras stood with his back to Glailen, hands clasped behind him, as he studied a stone slab of sorts propped up against the wall. The seconds ticked by with the younger Sith waiting on his teacher to acknowledge him. Glailen's instinct was to make his presence known but that was foolish. His master was well aware of him. He was simply making him wait.

"Apprentice." The Darth turned to face Glailen, a blank mask analyzing, judging.

"You've arrived. Finally." Glailen suppressed his exasperation at the annoyance in his master's tone. It wouldn't do to lose his focus now.

"Apologies, Master. There were some developments that took the Black Talon off course and required my attention."

"Yes, spare me the details. Grand Moff Kilran has been kind enough to contact and inform me of your little service to the Empire." Glailen pressed his lips together, refusing to say anything despite his confusion. Baras sounded understanding but he felt – from what Glailen could actually sense – vexed. Almost as though he were resentful that Glailen had a legitimate reason for arriving at the hour he did.

"He says you did well and, of course, you could hardly refuse him." The way Baras put emphasis on his every word tore at Glailen's nerves as he felt himself begin to sweat. His master paused, holding Glailen in place with a hidden stare. Glailen tried to hold that stare. After a long moment his eyes shifted away almost against his will. It was then that Baras appeared to become more relaxed.

"It just means you will need to begin your work here sooner," he continued pointedly and suddenly Glailen understood what was happening. Baras hadn't made Glailen his new apprentice so he could be used by others for their missions – even if those missions were the Empire's – he did so he could use Glailen for his own goals. To stay in his master's good graces, Glailen needed to show he would serve eagerly.

"I am ready, Master."

"Good. Considering your late arrival, I took the liberty of making living arrangements for you at Lord Haits Towers – named after the Sith who spared the life of the owner. The location and details have been sent to your datawatch. I'm sure you'll find the location adequate." Glailen felt his eyes narrow before he could stop himself. He tried to hide it by closing them completely as he bows at the hip.

"Thank you for your generosity, Master."

"Thank me by not failing me," said Baras with a slow shake of his head.

Darth Baras turned away and began walking into the back room. Glailen, hoping he was noticing a signal that was not there, followed a second later. As he did, he couldn't help looking at the stone tablet his master had been looking over before he arrived. It was then that he realized it wasn't stone but carbonite and frozen in that carbonite was a man. Whoever they were, Glailen couldn't help pitying them being left at the mercy of Darth Baras. The Sith lord, of course, took notice of Glailen's distraction.

"You are curious about my other guest. I might as well fill you in on some of the details now." Baras walked around a large table, much like the one he had on Korriban, and sat down behind it as he spoke.

"He is a Republic agent I had captured and delivered to me. He arrived shortly before you did. I have reason to believe he had been working to uncover my spy network. After spending decades placing eyes and ears in all levels of society, the damage that would be caused by the network's unraveling would be devastating to my plans. This cannot be allowed." Glailen was surprised by his master's statement. He mauled it over in his mind, if he understood correctly then…

"You have spies among the Jedi," said Glailen slowly, unsure of how far he could or should pry, "and the Sith." There was a slight tilt to Baras' head, a show of confusion, before he responded.

"Of course. I need to keep tabs on both my enemies and rivals."

Yes, naturally.

"It's…an impressive feat, Master," said Glailen, trying to mollify the other Sith. Whatever the reason – and he was sure he couldn't accurately guess Baras' thoughts – he had been made privy to some sensitive information.

"Thank you, Apprentice, but flattery will only get you so far," replied Baras in a dismissive tone.

"I must learn what the agent knows and then we'll go from there. For now, I have another task for you." At the announcement of work to be done, Glailen felt himself relax. He was his master's tool to be utilized, he was grateful for being picked to become an apprentice, but he could admit to himself at least that he didn't enjoy being around his master. Getting his mind on a mission would help him stay focused and earn his master's trust.

"On the outskirts of the city," began Baras, "you'll find a partially built statue of some size which was being made in the image of another Sith lord. The slaves responsible for the construction have revolted and now control the area surrounding the monolith. Naturally the Dark Council is not pleased with an uprising on the Empire's capital world and the Sith lord who brought the slaves here has been tasked with putting down the revolt. Thus far they have been unsuccessful as the slaves are motivated with freedom and have obtained a great deal of arms." Baras leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk.

"What isn't known is that via a number of my agents it was I who supplied the slaves with weapons and information and convinced them to fight back. The Sith lord who wanted the statue built is something of a rival of mine and I sought to discredit him." Glailen's eyes widened marginally. He kept his mouth shut. He didn't trust himself to make any comments. Darth Baras continued after allowing a moment for the information to sink in.

"Everything has gone according to plan except now the handful of slaves who know of my involvement – the leaders – are attempting to blackmail me into providing more weapons. This cannot be allowed. As such I will be sending you to the slave camp to discourage them." Behind him Glailen heard Vette breath in sharply.

"As you command, Master," said Glailen quickly, hoping it would keep Vette from saying anything. She managed to keep her opinions to herself though having Baras turn his mask to her might have done more to convince her than anything Glailen had done. After a moment Baras returned his attention to his apprentice.

"I have already sent a file to your datawatch containing the names and pictures of all the slave captains. Kill a few of them and make it look obvious what they were killed by. That should give them second thoughts about contacting me again."

"I will not fail you, Master."

"Of course not. I didn't choose you out of all the candidates on Korriban just to have you killed by slaves. Don't embarrass yourself." Suddenly Baras' voice became very low. A menacing whisper drilling into Glailen's skull.

"Don't embarrass me."

Glailen felt the weight of his master's words like a heavy pressure on his chest. He bowed his head and turned to leave. There was no reason to say anything more. Baras wanted results. It was time for Glailen to deliver them. Vette followed close behind, moving quickly. They were out the front entrance and feeling the eyes of the guards on their backs before either spoke.

"You were right," said Vette, breaking the silence. Glailen turned a questioning look at her. She didn't meet his eyes.

"About him."

Glailen nodded and kept his eyes forward. They hopped inside the first hovercab they could find.

"Lord Haits Towers," Glailen spoke to the accompanying droid as he leaned back in the seat. He closed his eyes as his mind worked through the next few hours.

"Right away, sir."

"We'll find out where we're living first," said Glailen as the vehicle began to lurch into motion.

"Then it's off to kill some uppity slaves." It wasn't a surprising comment from Vette. Really Glailen had been wondering when something of the kind would be said.

"You can get settled in, see what we need and look into getting it. There should be a market of some kind close by. I'll give you the credits for it."

"Excuse me?" Glailen opened his eyes and looked at his companion. She fairly radiated with…not quite outrage but not far from it either. When she had his attention, she went on.

"I thought we had an understanding regarding domestic duties." Each word was said with extra emphasis in an effort to drive the point home. Glailen considered his next words. He did remember the first conversation he had with Vette, of course, but he was also of the opinion that work should be shared. Practically speaking, while they both could – probably – do either job, that didn't mean they were both willing.

"There's not likely to be anything at this apartment other than water and we'll need to eat something in the coming days. I would appreciate it if you ran this errand for both of us while I'm completing Baras' mission." Vette's brow furrowed in irritation as her mouth shot open to argue but then she stopped, saying nothing. It was a second before she realized her mouth was still open and snapped it shut long enough to lick her lips. Her anger had been replaced with confusion. She tried again.

"Wait, I'm not coming with you?"

"I didn't think you would be overly thrilled about killing slaves." Maybe it was the bluntness of the words or perhaps it was something in Glailen's expression. Something caused Vette to turn away and look out her window, though she probably wasn't actually seeing anything. There was a long silence between them; Glailen returned to resting in his seat with his eyes closed.

"I'll find a place to get some real food – too many power bars can't be good for you – and drinks. Nothing makes a home more depressing than an empty pantry." Nodding agreement, another thought came to Glailen.

"Buy yourself some new clothes if you've a mind to." Glailen didn't have to have his eyes open to know Vette was confused and suspicious of the off-hand comment.

"The credits are there," he explained, "might as well use them."

Another pause.

"Thanks."

They kept to their own thoughts after that, spending the rest of the trip in silence. Glailen was curious to know where these Lord Haits Towers were, above or below, though he was hoping for above. The thought of looking up at the sky with walls of stone and dirt surrounding him, closing in…No, it wasn't for him. Yet, he would endure it if he had to.

Glailen let out a quiet sigh of relief as the hovercab began to circle a tall, rectangular building. It descended to street level, landing at the front entrance. Glailen paid the fare and gave instructions for the driver to wait a few minutes. As he and Vette got out, he took a look around with interest. This was, after all, where he would be living while on Dromund Kaas for the foreseeable future. Maybe it was the time of day but it didn't appear to be a busy part of the city as there were only a handful of people to be seen out and about. That suited Glailen fine as well. Fewer people meant fewer potential threats to keep eyes on and at the same time fewer eyes belonging to overly curious people. Vette would likely appreciate the latter.

They entered the building and took a look around. It was clear the cream of society wouldn't be living there but it certainly wasn't a place without class. As it was, it would be the fanciest place Glailen had ever lived in. That alone was strange to him. He kept his face straight as he approached the front reception desk. Behind the desk sat a thin, balding man. He noticed their approach and waited with what he no doubt considered a welcoming smile.

"Greetings and welcome to Lord Haits Towers. How may I be of service?"

"My name's Glailen Reichscher. I believe there's an apartment reserved for me?" The man made a show of thinking for a moment before smiling widely.

"Oh yes, yes, of course. Darth Baras said you would be coming by at some point. You'll be staying on the fourteenth floor; an excellent view I must say." Turning away, the attendant began rifling through a drawer out of view. After a moment he produced a card with a large T on it and the letters LH in blue written over it.

"This is your key card," he said, handing the card to Glailen. The Sith looked it over, considering.

"Is it possible to get another?" The smile slipped for an instant. Glailen caught how the attendant's eyes flicked behind him at the same time before quickly returning to him.

"Are you sure you wouldn't feel better restricting access to your rooms?"

"I would feel better," Glailen began as he leaned forward, "knowing my companion and I could both get into our rooms without being joined at the hip." The attendant licked his lips nervously. Clearly, he hadn't expected such a reaction from a Sith.

"It's just more practical, wouldn't you agree?" asked Glailen after allowing a moment for the man to organize his thoughts.

"Yes, of course, you're right. Apologies." The attendant was still smiling but it looked forced now as he rummaged through the drawer again and brought out another key card. He handed it to Glailen with a longing expression, as though he expected to regret the move. If he wanted to worry needlessly then that was his choice.

"Thank you," said Glailen before turning away. He handed the card to Vette. She wore the tiniest smirk that Glailen chose to ignore as they walked across the lobby. As Glailen had hoped there was a banking machine in the residence complex. It was a simple thing to transfer some credits to a disposable finance card. He presented it to Vette. Wide-eyed, she took it almost hesitantly as though worried Glailen would pull away at the last second. He waited as the twi'lek examined the card and put it away in one of her pockets. Glailen offered her a nod before heading for the exit.

"I'll try not to be long," said Glailen as he moved towards the hovercab that had dutifully waited. Vette was breaking off to start down the sidewalk, presumably in search of a market.

"I'll try not to get into any fights." Glailen looked back at his companion, unsure of whether she was being serious or just kidding. Likely a combination of the two. She didn't see him though, hurrying off on her own task. Exhaling heavily through his nose, Glailen ducked down into the hovercab. He had to trust that Vette could take care of herself.

---

It wasn't as difficult to disappear in a crowd in Kaas City as Vette had expected it to be. She learned a long time ago how not to be seen but that had been on worlds with a greater variety of sentients. Nothing like the center of the Sith Empire with its ocean of human faces. Where she had expected to be one of few non-humans in the city, there were actually quite a few beings from other species. The problem was the large majority of them were clearly slaves or at least some kind of servants. She had thought her appearance would earn her an endless stream of verbal abuse and hate-filled stares as she went about her business but that wasn't the case. People in Kaas City were not as unused to seeing aliens as an out of towner would think. Especially when the alien was dressed like they slept on someone's floor.

Frowning, Vette glanced down at her clothes. They were the same torn and raggedy things she had been wearing since being captured on Korriban. When was the last time she had been able to clean them? If she reeked – and she probably did – she had become used to it some time ago. All because a bunch of imperials had caught her in a musty old tomb. Maybe her wardrobe wasn't exactly expansive and she didn't always keep to a regular cleaning schedule but that was her choice. Being caged like an animal was not. It was degrading to think about. Especially since it only helped to convince those around her, she was a slave. Sure, it helped her walk around without drawing undue attention but it still made her feel…unwelcome.

Of course, you're not welcome here. Don't forget where you are.

Vette was aware of where she was. A place that should only have been referred to as 'hostile territory' but that wasn't the case. She was even off to buy some groceries and new clothes in such a hostile environment. The galaxy was definitely a crazy place.

Finding a place to purchase goods proved harder than expected. Well, finding a place wasn't difficult but being able to actually buy anything was a problem. The first two stores Vette found had signs basically saying anyone who was not human, Sith or chiss was not welcome. After avoiding those stores Vette thought the third one she found was what she needed – no signs against her species in the window – but after taking two steps inside she was told to leave. Forcefully. They actually had security droids all but throw her out before she could get a word in. Vette was nothing if not frustrated at what seemed everything and she had been walking around for less than an hour.

Eventually she came upon an open-air market. She wondered if she would be forced to leave here as well. Could they really tell her to leave what was technically public space? Sure, they can. I'm not a person after all, thought Vette bitterly. Sighing, she decided to try anyway. All she really had to do was buy something to eat and something to drink so Glailen would be at least content when he got back. That was her job – though she didn't like thinking of it that way. Better to say she was out getting something for herself and willing to get something for him as well. He was the one to provide the credits, after all.

Vette spent some time wandering through the market. There were many vendors but finding one that sold food was proving a challenge. She came across things that she wanted but none of which was edible. Glailen had given her a task and she wanted to make sure she returned with something that he requested. He had given her his trust. He trusted her with his credits – more than a few, in fact – and the least she could do was try to show that trust was not misplaced. Once she bought some food she could worry about other things. She made a few mental notes on where to return as she continued her search. Finally, she found the section of market that sold food. Her hope piqued when, to her great surprise and equally great relief, she saw several vendors who were aliens. If she wasn't welcomed by other aliens on Dromund Kaas then she would probably have to just give up. Glailen would have to make do with his power bars, at least until he decided to go out himself. Of course, that meant Vette would have to eat them as well.

Maybe she would keep trying if this market didn't work out.

Hopefully that wouldn't be the case as she approached one of the vendors. A tall zabrak directed several droids as they moved to assist potential customers. As Vette got closer the zabrak took personal notice of her and waved her over, seeing that she was interested in his goods.

"Welcome miss, I can see you can spot quality produce from a distance. What would your master be looking for today?" Vette stiffened at the question. She shouldn't be surprised by it. Someone thinking she was a slave was totally normal and expected in this city and she technically was here on the behest of another. An honest mistake.

Still.

"I'm looking for a few things – I hope you can help with that," she said while holding up her finance card and glaring at the vendor. The zabrak's eyes grew enormously wide for a split second before he recovered. That split second was so satisfying, though.

"Of course, of course! Don't worry, ol' Gunden has what you want." The zabrak beckoned her closer, smiling for the world as though he were meeting an old friend. Smirking, Vette walked over and began eyeing what was available.

"We'll see about that, won't we?"

"Your shopping will have to wait, slave." A loud and authoritative voice spoke somewhere behind Vette. She kept her eyes on what was for sale. There was no reason to assume that whoever had spoken was referring to her and looking around with a guilty expression was the best way to make others suspicious. It didn't help that the zabrak was apparently looking at the speaker.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, slave!" Suppressing a sigh and the primal instinct to choose flight, Vette slowly turned around. There were two men, dressed like some sort of Imperial officials – police maybe? – and they were studying her with less than amused expressions.

"That's better," said the more talkative of the two. Vette immediately decided she didn't like either of the men but running was not an option. This wasn't like the streets of Nar Shadaa where she could get lost in a crowd easily while being chased. Here she absolutely stuck out like a sore thumb. Besides that, Vette couldn't help taking notice of the crowd forming around them. Everyone stopping to see what the commotion was about and what were the chances that all these fine citizens would simply stand aside if she tried to escape? No, this was a delicate situation indeed.

"Is there a problem, uh, officers?"

"Where did you get those credits, slave?" He gestured to the pocket Vette had placed her finance card in but that was less important to her. She couldn't help but be a little miffed over being presumed a slave twice in as many minutes.

"Okay, first of all I'm not a slave." That earned a disturbing grin from the lead officer.

"And I'm actually a wookie learning to be a Jedi."

Vette shrugged, "Congratulations."

That turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Before Vette could react or even know what was happening, she was having her arm twisted behind her back at an angle it was not meant to go. She gasped from the pain, certain any sudden movement would mean a broken bone or two. Her eyes darted around the crowd. No one moved to intervene. Not surprising. Some, however, were actually grinning. They wanted to see an alien get what they thought it deserved. Vette was truly on her own.

"Once more, where did you get those credits?"

"Alright, alright! Look, I'm not a slave but I work for a Sith. He gave me some credits to get some groceries for him. The kitchen's looking kind of bare, you know?"

"You work for a Sith but you claim to not be a slave? Who do you think–"

"It's the truth! I…was a slave, okay, and he took ownership of me on Korriban but shortly after he removed my collar. That's universal for 'you're not a slave anymore,' right? But I still work for him." Neither officer looked convinced with Vette's explanation, especially the one with the ever-tightening grip on her arm.

"And who exactly is this Sith then?"

"Glailen. Glailen Reichscher." The officer holding Vette glanced over at his partner who began working on a datapad. After what couldn't have been more than a minute but certainly felt longer, the man found what he was looking for.

"Newly raised to apprentice. One of Darth Baras'. There a mention he's been traveling with a female twi'lek. He made a credit transfer a couple of hours ago." The officer looked up from his datapad, meeting his partner's eyes.

"Checks out."

A moment of silence passed.

"Come on, he said I'm not lying. Glai – uh – Lord Reichscher went on a mission for his master and told me to get something for him to eat and drink for when he gets back. I need to do this or he'll be…upset." Vette hated how she sounded like she was pleading. She was pleading but she hated it. What other choice did she have though? She started wondering if she needed another option as the officer continued to hold her with his hands and those hate-filled eyes. Maybe it wouldn't be enough?

"It's your lucky day, twi'lek," said the lead officer as he released his hold on Vette. She immediately took a step back and had to resist the urge to rub her aching arm. She faced the men and tried to look grateful.

"Th-thank you."

"Stay out of trouble." The officer took a step closer as he spoke. It was all Vette could do not to take another step back. He leaned closer until his eyes were level with hers.

"Don't give me a reason to come looking for you."

"I'll be sure to do that." Seemingly satisfied with Vette's level of meekness, the officers turned and strolled away. The crowd that had gathered quickly dispersed. The entertainment was over.

Too bad.

Vette had to bite her lip to keep from screaming.

---

Even half finished, the commissioned statue was immense in size, easily seen for kilometers around. It struck Glailen as an equally immense waste of manpower and resources and with the slaves tasked with building it in open revolt, it would be hard to dispute that opinion. Offering his opinion was not Glailen's job, however. He was here to make sure no one knew how the revolt was able to get off the ground in the first place. All for the sake of keeping his master safe.

From the imperial camp, Glailen stared down into the valley the statue was situated. The thick foliage made seeing anyone or anything other than treetops an impossible task. The rebels were using that to their full advantage. All ways in or out of the valley were being watched at all times by Imperial forces but actually rooting out the former slaves was another task entirely. How the people in charge wanted to go about it, Glailen didn't know, but he did have some ideas. Of course, the less costly in Imperial lives the more destructive the option became. It all came down to how much a scene one wanted to make. Again, that wasn't Glailen's concern and he needed to focus.

Get to the mission.

At this camp the path to the valley was over a bridge. A squad of troopers stood guard behind a barricade. Glailen approached them and was quickly noticed by the commanding officer; a middle-aged lieutenant.

"My Lord, welcome to the edge of chaos." That drew a raised eyebrow from Glailen.

"Is it really as bad as all that?" he asked. The officer waved a hand to encompass the valley at his back.

"Behind me there are a lot of slaves running around without any sense of direction and shooting at anything that spooks them which is just about everything. All because they revolted against the systems of order the Empire provides. Chaos seems as good a word to use as any in my estimation."

"Well, I'm not one to shy away from a bit of danger." Understanding swept over the lieutenant's face.

"You mean to go in there." It wasn't a question, merely a statement of what they both knew to be true.

"I do." The other man gave little away but from what Glailen could sense he was struggling with a mounting exasperation. Perhaps Glailen was not the first to disregard to general order for none to enter the valley. The lieutenant was, however, apparently not interested in arguing the point.

"I can't stop you and I won't try but it's my duty to inform you that beyond this point you will be on your own. No help will be available."

"Consider me warned," replied Glailen, unconcerned. He was just about to walk past the troopers when he noticed the lieutenant appear to hesitate with a decision. Glailen stopped and trained his gaze on the other man, content to wait a minute if that's what it took. That helped the lieutenant reach a decision.

"I would also be remiss if I failed to mention we've noticed odd behaviour."

"Odd how?" asked Glailen, curious. Any recon he could get before entering hostile territory was worth hearing.

"A group of slaves – or maybe it's just one, we're not sure – have been performing some sort of ritualistic killings on other slaves. We don't know why but we do know they are savage acts by disturbed minds. Whoever is behind the killings is dangerous. Maybe even to a Sith." Glailen looked from the lieutenant to the valley below and then back again. If the killings were indeed bad enough the other man thought it worth warning a Sith – even an apprentice – then Glailen would take it to heart. He had no intention of dying to a deranged slave.

"I appreciate the information, Lieutenant."

"Good luck, my Lord."

Glailen nodded to the officer and then he was moving past the squad. As he walked across the bridge the forest seemed to loom up and glare at him, daring him to enter. Inside he would find hundreds of armed rebels if not more but he would also find a killer. The thought of being stalked through those dense trees was enough to convince Glailen to keep his sense sharp but he wouldn't worry over much. He survived Korriban. What could the trees hide that were worse than what the Sith home world had to offer?

---

The walk back to the apartment was longer than Vette had expected. She had gone further from the building than she thought she had or maybe it just felt longer because she was lugging around all the stuff she'd bought. She tried to focus on how tired she was getting, or on how annoyed she was with people staring, or how embarrassed she was with what happened at the market. She was even willing to think about how angry she was – anything but how scared she was. Sure, she knew what was likely to happen to her in Kaas city but knowing what could happen and actually experiencing it were two different things. It was real now. It would probably happen again.

Of course, it would happen again.

Thus far the return walk had been without any rude interruptions but Vette was convinced she wouldn't feel safe until she was locked away in the apartment Glailen's very Sith boss had got for him. Maybe things would be better when she was wearing some of the new clothes she'd bought for herself. It wasn't too much, just enough for a couple of days without wearing the same thing. If she was being honest with herself then the fresh-looking clothes probably wouldn't do anything to convince anyone she wasn't a slave but at least she wouldn't have to look it.

Glailen said I could get some clothes so that's what I did. No more rags for me, thanks. Not like there's a whole lot I can do around here anyway. Might as well look better than I feel.

By the time she finally found Lord Haits Towers she was tired enough to drop down for a well-earned nap and her nerves were driving her crazy. The same clerk was behind the front desk when she walked in. He frowned as he watched her walk from the door to the nearest lift. She gave him her meanest glare as the doors slid shut, separating the two of them before she lost it. Attacking some guy with a high opinion of himself would definitely get her in trouble but the satisfaction probably would have been worth it.

Asshole, how was your day? Mine? Oh, you know, just getting assaulted in public because I don't have hair on my head. Yeah, no, I didn't think you would know what that's like. Asshole.

Groaning, Vette leaned back against the wall of the lift. She couldn't think of a good reason to keep holding the bags with all her stuff in it so she let them drop to the floor. Rubbing a hand over her eyes, she tried to let go of her frustration. Getting angry was not going to help her. It had yet to harm the people making her angry in any way so it was therefore not helping her. Maybe, once she'd made something decent to eat, she would feel better. As though to add its agreement, her stomach chose that moment to growl its demands. Yup, food sounds nice.

The lift came to a sudden stop and the doors opened. Sighing, Vette scrambled to gather up her bags and jump out before the doors decided to close. After some reluctant shuffling steps, Vette found their apartment. Room 1423. Would have been nice getting something closer to the ground but there was nothing to be done for it. A swipe of her keycard – an awkward action while holding so many bags – and the door opened. She took two steps inside and dropped all of the bags. Should have just dropped them outside so using the card would have been easier. Stupid. Tired. Stupid because tired. Vette allowed that line of thought to die away as she took a good look around. The place was…nice. Certainly, the nicest place she would sleep in since Goddess knew how long.

It was lightly furnished which surprised Vette but she wouldn't complain. Sleeping on a bed or couch was better than the floor. The kitchen was a good size, not too small or big. Cozy, one might say. In the living room there was a vidscreen and a sectional couch shaped like a T facing it. One could lie back, put their feet up and watch something while struggling valiantly not to fall asleep. Vette had to admit the idea was appealing. She walked over to the street side wall which was actually just one big window. Leaning against it, she looked down and down to the street below. It was hard to make anyone out and the closest building of similar height was a few blocks away. She couldn't see any one and if she couldn't see them then they couldn't see her. Maybe she could forget about where she was now and then. Perhaps being on the fourteenth floor wasn't the worst thing.

Back at the doorway, she placed her hands on her hips while staring at the bags left on the floor. She wondered if, given one or two hours, she would find the inspiration to put everything away. That was wishful thinking at its finest though and she knew it. Grudgingly she set about organizing everything. It didn't actually take that long and Vette soon found herself standing around wondering what she should or could do next. She could take that nap she wanted; she could take it while watching something on the vidscreen. What about making something to eat like her stomach wanted? That was a good idea too. It was weird having so much to do but none of it urgent and all while standing in a pretty good apartment too. When had her life gotten so…different?

The answer to that was obvious.

She looked out the wall-window again. Was that even the direction Glailen had gone in? Didn't matter that much. Vette couldn't help wondering what he was up to and if he was alright. Whether or not he came back in one piece had a huge impact on what would happen to her next but it was more than that. The thought of him dying out there alone was…Even if he was out there to kill people who just wanted their freedom from the Sith Empire, she didn't think he deserved such an end.

Shaking her head, Vette turned away. You're worrying over nothing, girl. He can take care of himself. Just gotta stay busy so your head doesn't wander. Taking her own advice, Vette pulled out her blasters and placed them on the couch. She bought some cleaning equipment for them and she couldn't remember the last time she gave them a good cleaning so that was as good a place to start as any.

---

Thunder boomed overhead. It was going to rain but it hadn't started yet. Glailen hoped it would stave off long enough for him to complete his mission but he knew it was wishful thinking. Night, on the other hand, did not hesitate to visit and that he could use well to hide his presence as he searched. The valley was large and while he knew the faces of the people he was after he didn't know where exactly to look. What he needed was someone who knew where he should look.

He had been trained to track in terrain like that he found himself in and that was before he learned how to use the Force. Together they made finding someone – especially someone not worried with being found – a simple thing. Finding someone in particular was harder and that was what Glailen needed help with. With that in mind he reached out with the Force in search of anyone. After an hour or two he finally sensed several people grouped together. Despite the size of the valley, Glailen didn't think it would take so long to find anyone but he didn't dwell on it.

Before long he came upon the group he had sensed. There were four of them; two men and two women, human, sitting around a fire. They talked and laughed – loudly. Simply put they made no effort to hide their presence. Glailen couldn't help but get a feeling of scorn from the sight. He certainly didn't believe he would feel any empathy for the group if a team of Imperial troopers descended on them that very moment. They carried on seemingly without a care in the world. It was almost as though they were simply out enjoying a camping trip but that wasn't the case. They were part of a rebellious group, surrounded by a hostile force. Luckily for them, Glailen's own mission did not require he ruin their evening. Not necessarily, anyway. For the moment he only watched, still as stone and silent as death.

Eventually one of them would have to wander away from the fire to conduct private business. Glailen was only concerned with how long he would have to wait. Of course, he would wait as long as was required but he didn't want to be out all night if it could be helped. Thankfully he didn't have long to wait before one of the men stood and excused himself before walking off into the woods, in search of a discreet spot. Glailen circled around, intending to come up behind the man. He gave a wide berth while keeping an eye on his target. He moved quickly but remained quiet, disturbing no brush and avoiding fallen sticks. During his training he had found this part difficult. With his bulk he simply didn't believe he was suited for silent deployment so close to a target but regardless he had learned how. Then he learned how to use the Force. Now it was a simple thing, especially against someone not expecting to be taken by surprise.

The man was just finishing fastening up his trousers when Glailen snuck up behind him. He clasped a hand over the man's mouth, keeping a tight grip to prevent the man from biting in retaliation; at the same time sticking the hilt of his lightsaber into his back. Initially the man struggled frantically but his movements slowed as he realized something hard was pointed at his lower back. Though he no longer struggled, the man's breathing was frantic and his fear was thick in the air. He wanted to keep fighting, Glailen could sense it, but he was smart enough to understand if he were going to die it would have happened already. That was what Glailen had been hoping for.

"Shhhh," whispered Glailen, trying to soothe the other man's mind. Slowly his breathing steadied.

"I'm going to take my hand away and you're going to remain silent. If you don't then I am going to kill you, then I'm going to kill your friends and then I'll go look for someone more cooperative." Glailen tried to not to show his hesitation as he loosened his grip. He hadn't lied, he would make sure no one got in his way or escaped to warn others, but he didn't want to have to go through this process with someone else if it could be avoided. The man was completely still as Glailen pulled his hand away, as though afraid the slightest movement would be his death. A moment passed with the man making no move or sound, satisfying Glailen.

"Good. Every uprising has its leaders; tell me where I can find them."

"I don't know," croaked the man, unable to keep the fear from his voice. Glailen didn't have time for sympathy.

"Think on it," he demanded. The man's worry spiked.

"I mean it. I've seen a few of them but that's all. When they call, we come, that's what we do but we don't know where they sleep or anything." The man's head began to droop low until his chin was touching his chest.

"Not that they call very often. We're basically waiting around, enjoying what little freedom we have before the Empire decides to kill us all."

At least they're not all ignorant of their reality, thought Glailen. The man was continuing to speak and Glailen was content to allow it. He felt a weakness in the man that could be exploited to get what he needed.

"Not all of us wanted any part of this uprising but the others," he paused, searching for the words, "they think anyone who doesn't fight must be an Imperial sympathizer. Then they kill you. Seen it happen a few times. Had to go along with everyone else." After a heartbeat, Glailen took a calculated risk as he lowered his lightsaber. Immediately he felt the shock run through the man's sense but he didn't attempt to run. Good.

"You don't owe them anything. Tell me where I can find some of the leaders – I don't need all of them – and I'll leave you alone."

"But I really don't know!" The man all but shouted while repeating himself. Frowning, Glailen glanced towards the small camp but neither heard nor sensed any indication that someone had heard. He returned his attention to the man from whom could be sensed worry and embarrassment. He knew he had nearly cost himself and the others their lives. Instead of reprimanding the man, Glailen stuck with the more important issue.

"Maybe you don't know explicitly but I'm sure you have some ideas. You know the area better than I do; where would they go? Think of somewhere defensible for instance."

"Defensible? I don't know about that…" His words trailed off. The former slave was trying to the best of his knowledge to recall anything that Glailen could use. Glailen would have been disappointed if this wasn't what he wanted. An uprising without any loyalty among its members, however, was doomed to fail. In all, it just showed how pointless it all was.

Unless someone asked Darth Baras about it.

"But you know," the man spoke up, "they did tell everyone to stay away from the base of the statue. They said something about it being a symbol of our oppression but some of the guys are guessing it's because that's where our leaders like to hang out. You could try there?"

"Yes, that will do," said Glailen, satisfied he had what he needed. He sensed no deception from the man as he apparently believed what he was saying.

"So, you'll leave me alone then?" asked the man hopefully, although he sensed as though he believed it equally likely Glailen would go back on his word. Perhaps some – most – Sith would but the man would find himself surprised.

"Count to ten and once you're finished, go back to your friends. This conversation never happened. Act like nothing out of the ordinary happened and everything will be fine."

"Okay, yeah. Yeah." After backing away a few steps, Glailen turned and broke into a sprint. He was sure to remain as quiet as possible but he also wanted to be well on his way before the man had a chance to break their deal. It seemed unlikely the man would intentionally give away what had happened but at the same time Glailen didn't think they could hold up under even friendly questioning.

With a destination in mind, Glailen felt more determined to get the job done. He was sure to be as silent as possible, however, for the closer he got to the statue the more people he could sense in the surrounding area. They were not his goal. Now that he didn't need them, finding rebels was an easy thing. Avoiding them was easy. Much like the group Glailen had just left, the scattered rebels were not expecting anything special to happen on this night. They didn't have much to fear either if the Imperial camp Glailen had visited was any indicator. The Empire had no plans for an offensive that he had seen but perhaps the fight was taking place in a different part of the valley. If not then he could only conclude that both sides were not taking the situation seriously.

After some time Glailen reached the base of the statue but could see no one right away. He didn't go right up to the monolith but instead kept a discreet distance as he began to circle around. Before he decided he'd made the trip for nothing, he had to check the whole area. It was only a short time before he heard multiple voices through the night air. Whoever it was, they were an even more raucous group than the first. Glailen approached cautiously; after everything he'd encountered thus far, he doubted this group was taking any precautions against intruders but being careless himself was foolish. He would take advantage of their mistakes but refused to fall to them as well.

The camp was situated in a large clearing with a couple of fires lighting the area. With a quick count Glailen could see there were a dozen rebels sitting around, eating, drinking and laughing without a care for tomorrow. It wasn't hard to get a good look at their faces. Most he didn't recognize but a few of them were definitely from the file Baras had given him. He didn't make his move right away, however, for he also noticed there were children. Four that he could see, all boys and no more than ten years of age. That wasn't odd really; there were tasks children were well suited for such as small spaces a grown man wouldn't be able to reach. Although, the children didn't appear to be enjoying the semblance of freedom the rebelling slaves had gained.

A couple of the boys were carrying jugs of drink and walking amongst the adults, filling up empty cups. The other two were pushed by one of the rebels into an opening near one of the fires. With wide eyes they stood shakily at the center of attention. A moment later the rebel who put them on the spot handed a vibroknife to each. They hesitated but the man forced the knives into their hands. He turned them to face each other and then joined his fellows in the circle they'd formed.

A minute passed with nothing happening except a couple of frightened boys trying to make themselves disappear. The fear Glailen felt from them was nearly overpowering but the rebels couldn't feel it. Of course, only someone completely oblivious or uncaring to the pain of others could miss the anguish in the boys' faces. Clearly the surrounding men were not interested in how a couple of kids felt. Annoyed and irritated mutters started replacing amusement.

"Come on, you know what to do!" Still the boys hesitated but it was only a matter of time. Eventually one of them would become more scared of the adults than of hurting the other – or being hurt in return. Indeed, all it took was for the rebel who gave them the knives to get back up with a clenched fist. One of the boys suddenly lunged at the other. It was awkward and accompanied with a scream that was more terror than anything else. He slashed with his knife and was rewarded with a shallow gash across the other boy's left arm. The other boy howled in pain but the spell of fear was broken and they struck back. Now the two kids were swinging their weapons clumsily at each other, hoping to score the crucial hit without having to risk more than their arms.

Glailen couldn't help but glare at the sight. He wondered how many kids had to get hurt so that they could learn what to do when handed a vibroknife. How many of them had been hurt so bad they wouldn't learn anything ever again? Before he could dwell too much on that thought, his attention was caught by one of the men getting up and pulling one of the two serving boys away. The fear that came from the boy matched that of the two fighting but it was mixed with despair. A knowing grief. Perhaps this was something else the kids knew about. Glailen's curiosity only grew as he watched the pair move further away from the light of the fires, escaping sight. After another glance at the little melee taking place, Glailen decided to go after the wandering pair.

When he caught up with them, coming in from the side, his first sight forced a low hiss from his bared teeth. They were in a small clearing. The man had dropped his pants. He was pushing the boy's head into the ground and pulling away his pants as well. With the garments out of the way the rebel's hand went to his waist and began stroking. Preparing himself. Of course, the boy resisted as he waited for the seemingly inevitable but his struggle was feeble against someone so much larger.

The man was ready after a few seconds, the anticipation proving overwhelming. He slapped the boy's exposed flank.

"Squirm or don't, makes no difference to me but it'll hurt you more," he stated in a tone far too casual.

Then he was pushing forward.

Glailen was across the clearing and standing next to the kneeling man before he even realized he was moving. The man had enough time to turn his head before a gloved fist slammed into this face. He flew to the ground with a grunt but he had no time to say anything else before he was lifted by unseen hands and thrown back towards the camp. He almost made it all the way before clipping a tree and spinning through the air and crashing among the gathered rebels. Every one sprang to their feet in alarm and confusion. They were yelling at each other but Glailen didn't register what was said. All he could understand was the Force wrapped around him and his desire – no, his need for blood. He stalked towards them. The half-naked rebel gained enough coherency to point where Glailen was coming from screaming a warning even as he began crawling away.

"Who's there?" one of them called. Weapons, blasters and knives, were produced. Glailen marched into the light of the fires. At his side his lightsaber hissed to life. A dozen pairs of eyes widened with fear.

"Sith!"

The reactions fell under two categories; some stood frozen, unsure of whether or not to fight, and others had reached the decision to run away. They would not get the chance. Glailen threw out a hand, feeling the Force latch onto the four attempting to escape, and pulled back. The four flew back through the air with screams of terror. As they landed amongst their fellows, those still standing found their courage. Blaster fire erupted in the night, mixing with shouts of defiance. With an almost effortless ease, Glailen deflected or dodged around the blaster bolts. This wasn't like on the Black Talon or Brentaal Star. Glailen felt a connection to the Dark Side he had obtained only a handful of times before. With such power he couldn't be stopped. Nothing could resist his judgement.

At an unhurried walk, Glailen advanced on his victims. A stray bolt struck a rebel square in the gut. He folded in on himself before dropping dead. Another threw his blaster to the ground and rushed in with a pair of vibroknives. Glailen's movements were a blur as he first severed the man's hands and then slashed across his throat. He fell to his knees, desperately trying to breath. With a wide slash, two more rebels were felled by a lightsaber carving through their ill-protected flesh. Seeing several of their number fall so easily, the remaining rebels began to lose their resolve. Glailen sensed it and knew they would try running again. Before they could make that choice, he dashed forward. He moved too fast for them to follow, creating chaos as he went. Reaching one man he separated their screaming head from weak body, another and he drove his lightsaber through a heaving chest, a third made the mistake of blinking and found their abdomen cut open when their eyes opened. To describe what happened as a fight would have been generous. A slaughter was a more apt description. Glailen was more inclined to say it was satisfying. But all too quickly it was over.

As the red haze cleared from his mind, Glailen took calming breaths to steady his breathing. Less than a minute had passed. The dead littered the camp. None had escaped.

A figure sprang away out of the corner of Glailen's eye. Instantly he reached out a hand and grabbed the fleeing rebel, slamming him to the ground and pulling him back to stop at his feet. With a last move of defiance, the rebel pushed up to a knee and threw his arm wide at the Sith. Glailen caught the man's wrist, keeping the shaking vibroblade from reaching his gut, and swiped at that arm with his lightsaber. The blade cut easily through the bicep but Glailen was careful not to sever the limb entirely. Even with immense pain the man attempted to stand up and run. Before he could take a single step, Glailen swung low and his weapon burned across the rebel's calves. He fell to the ground as though someone had shut off control to his legs.

The rush of battle was over. It was an effort for the Sith to calm his breathing. Glailen took a moment to listen to the man scream. He tried to crawl away with his one good limb but wasn't getting very far very quickly. Cocking his head to the side, Glailen reached out with the Force. He didn't look for fear, he searched for confusion, curiosity. It wasn't hard to find.

"Come here."

Glailen hadn't intended for the command to come out as a growl but his blood was still up from the killing. He waited patiently, sensing the others weren't fleeing from him just yet. Slowly, with great hesitation, the four boys appeared from their hiding places. With reluctance, almost as though they couldn't control their own movements, they walked over to stand a couple meters from Glailen. He turned to face them as they did. A quick glance showed one of the boys had kept the vibroknife he had been given. Using the Force, Glailen plucked three knives from the surrounding debris. Seeing the knives floating through the air brought fresh waves of fear from the boys but again they didn't run. Maybe their fear had paralyzed them to the spot or it could be they didn't believe they could escape if this dark avenger before them wanted their lives. The knives hovered before the three boys with free hands, handle first.

"The four of you must have suffered a great deal at the hands of these men," said Glailen in a low tone. None of the boys responded but they didn't have to. He gestured to the only living rebel.

"He's yours if you want him."

All at once the four boys gaped in shock; a couple took a step back. Wide eyes shifted from him to the rebel and back again several times. Perhaps they were trying to decide who they feared more. Even in his weakened state, the rebel had a sway over them. Memories could prove unbreakable chains as Glailen well knew. He waited for them to decide and let them do so on their own. If they were to trust him – as he hoped they would – then he couldn't push them to make such a decision. All he would do was stand by and simply be there. What they would take from his presence was up to them.

The rebel had heard Glailen's words even through all his pain. He was saying something – yelling at his assailant and the boys. Glailen didn't really hear him with his full attention on the boys. The kids kept looking at him, at this Sith who had come in and changed their lives. What were they seeing? What did they hope to find? Glailen didn't know but he decided he could wait all night if he had to.

Finally, one of the boys moved. He was the one who kept his knife from earlier and the same one to attack first when ordered to. It was clear that at his core he was a fighter. Walking towards the rebel, he held the knife at arm's length as though expecting the rebel to suddenly leap up and attack. All the rebel did was shout even louder.

Two more of the children made the same choice, plucking a knife from the air each and stalking towards their wounded prey. Only the boy who had been taken aside into the night remained frozen in place. He practically quivered with indecision. Glailen sensed the turmoil inside of him. So much fear but it wasn't alone, crashing again and again against a wall of hate. He wanted to tear into his abuser but found it difficult to actually take that step. Sometimes, when the hurt is bad enough, it's hard to believe that you can be strong against someone who made you weak.

Glailen opened his mouth to speak. The boy screamed. It wasn't from terror but from rage. He rushed forward, taking the final knife, and leapt onto the rebel. Slashing and screaming, he left his mark. The other three boys were stunned for an instant but then hurried to join. Suddenly the rebel didn't have it in him to yell obscenities at the kids. All he could do was add his own scream to theirs.

Inexperienced, the boys slashed with their knives instead of stabbing. Their attacks left dozens of cuts varying in size on the man's body. His agony was prolonged as a result. Maybe the boys had actually done it intentionally.

When it was all over, when the body stopped twitching and the boys had exhausted themselves cutting away at the meat, Glailen walked closer to stand over their handiwork. His appearance got the boys' attention and they stepped away, lining up before him. The Sith glanced down at the scene. They had worked hard to make sure no one would be able to recognize the rebel. Their chests heaved with a combination of exertion and adrenaline. Glailen studied them, they were covered in blood but none of it was theirs. Shaking eyes stared back at him. This wasn't the fear from before. What they had seen – what they had seen themselves do, that couldn't be taken back.

Glailen couldn't help but wonder if he'd done the right thing. The thought quickly left him though. For what he was, Glailen had done the only thing he could for them. It was, he thought, what he had hoped someone could give him all those years ago.

"The pain won't go away but now you know you can be strong."

Almost in unison the boys turned their gazes to what they had done. As they did so Glailen had to think of what he should do now. Let them go so they could try and survive the inevitable move by the Empire. Take them with him? That was crazy thinking; he couldn't look after four kids. He could barely look after himself. So, what did that leave? Bring them back to the Imperial camp so they could go back to being what they were. Was that really the best choice?

'We couldn't leave a kid behind.'

Glailen winced.

No. No matter what, he couldn't leave them behind by themselves. Even together. They were just kids. He licked his lips and tried to find his voice.

"I can't take responsibility for you but I can bring you back to the authorities." Glailen spoke slowly, testing each word. His words, understandably, captured the attention of the boys.

"You'll be made slaves again," he paused, waved a hand at the trees around them, "or you take your chances out there."

A second ago, Glailen was sure how he would answer in their position but as the words came out, he found himself doubting. Would he rather be free or made into a slave? He didn't know first-hand what it was like to be one but there was a reason people generally didn't want to become one. Then again, surely trying to survive in this valley or escape it was akin to suicide. None of the boys answered right away and Glailen couldn't envy their position.

They had his sympathies but, contrary to his earlier stance, he didn't have forever to let them think it over. If he were being honest, he was done with this valley and wanted to be gone. He sensed nothing decisive from the boys. They looked at their feet, at each other, at the trees – anywhere but him. Well, maybe he could force a move from them.

"It's your choice."

Without warning Glailen turned away from the boys and left the camp. He could feel their sudden apprehension as he got further away, rising to panic. Instead of looking back he kept moving forward. In their hearts they had already made their choice. Now all they had to do was show it.

He didn't have to wait long before the sound of rushing feet behind him became undeniable. As he spun around, he was faced with the four boys coming to an abrupt stop. He stared back at them questioningly. They shared a few quick glances, apparently deciding who should talk first, when finally one, the one who had been cut first, stepped forward.

"They'll make us work again," he said. Glailen nodded.

"They will."

Again, the boys shared a look.

"But they'll give us a home. Feed us."

There it was. Basic needs were a powerful bargaining chip. Against a roof over one's head, or knowing where the next meal would come from, what could be weighed? Freedom was something people liked to strive for but it lost a great deal of its glow when the stomach became an empty pit. Glailen exhaled a sigh through his nose.

"Yes."

There was no silent debate this time. Instead, the boys stood ready to follow, their expressions showing a resolve that made everything clear to Glailen. He turned and led the way.

It was slow going for the group to make their way through the valley. Glailen was no longer on his own but had four kids trailing him. He had to slow down considerably in order for them to keep up. They didn't complain though, nor did they make much noise. Instead of talking they kept their mouths shut, tapping one another on the shoulder when needing to get their attention, and they knew enough not to step on every twig lying on the ground. Glailen had to admit he was glad for it; they were still deep in hostile territory and he didn't want to find out if he could keep them safe if attacked.

Despite that, it was Glailen who would take a risk.

As they walked a very seldom used trail, something caught Glailen's attention. He cocked his head to the side as though listening but he was reaching out with the Force, trying to pinpoint what he was sensing. It was odd. Not something he expected to find in a valley filled with rebellious slaves. He addressed the boys.

"There's something I need to investigate. Wait here. I'll be back soon."

The boys wanted to protest or at least say something but Glailen was gone before they could muster the courage. Where he was going would be too dangerous for them – at least if what he sensed turned out to be true. Furthermore, they would surely be fine by themselves for a short time. He only planned to be a few minutes.

Before long he spotted someone, a large figure standing next to a tree with their back to Glailen. They were staring at something propped up against the tree. Without warning the figure turned and dashed away. Glailen didn't think they had noticed his approach but he was suspicious nonetheless and kept his gaze on where he lost sight of them. He came to the tree where he saw the figure and learned what they had been staring at. Lying against the tree was a human female and she was quite dead by the unnatural angle of her neck. What interested Glailen, however, was the shallow gouge marks across the neck that almost resembled…claw marks? A peculiar find that only added to the Sith's curiosity.

It occurred to Glailen that he might have found a victim of the savage slave he had been warned about. Resolved to learn the truth, he took off in the direction of the figure. They had a head start on him but hadn't gone far enough to escape his senses and they also didn't bother hiding their path. Glailen tracked them with ease for which he was thankful. He didn't want this to take too long. After a few moments it became clear his target had even stopped moving. That encouraged Glailen to approach with more caution.

As he got close, Glailen began to make out voices that only grew louder the closer he got. Maybe the savage was in fact a group of murderous slaves. But when he arrived at the scene, he only had more questions. Staying hidden, Glailen saw a group of four human slaves surrounding and closing in on another slave. The one in the middle held Glailen's interest; a dark-furred cathar standing well over six feet and thick with muscle. Though outnumbered and surrounded, the cathar didn't appear overly worried but more daring the others to make a move.

"On our way to becoming Sith, every kill strengthens our ties with the Dark Side." The rebel who spoke stepped closer, brandishing a knife and pointing it at the cathar. Glailen couldn't deny the rebel in question was nearly as intimidating in appearance as the cathar. He was just as large, bald but with a series of scars crisscrossing his face, and had the eyes of a killer. The one he carried himself spoke of confidence. Still, he was only nearly as intimidating. The cathar had an advantage but Glailen doubted the other slaves were yet aware of it.

"There is little to be gained from killing an alien but still," the rebel suddenly reversed his grip on the knife, "there's something!" All at once the four rebels converged on their prey. Glailen watched, wondering if they would be shown to be the hunted.

The scarred man, the only one with a weapon, was the most eager for the kill. He rushed in first and lunged with the knife. At the last possible second the cathar reacted, catching the outstretched arm and twisting his hips to flip the large man onto the ground. Another quick twist and the man released the knife with a pained grunt. There was no time to follow up before the other three were upon the cathar.

With quick precise movements the cathar fought back. He kicked at the knee of one man causing them to drop to a kneeling position, then he turned and push-kicked another rebel. The cathar then whipped around, swiping his hand across the four man's face. Screaming, the man backed away while clutching at his face. Blood oozed out between his fingers. The cathar appeared in the habit of utilizing his claws. Even as Glailen registered that piece of information, the cathar turned his attention to the kneeling man and plunged his thumbs into the man's eyes. The screams that came seemed enough to wake the dead in Glailen's mind. Struggling was no good, the cathar's were large trunks of hard muscle that wouldn't budge against frantic slaps. When the cathar finally pulled away the man fell back to the ground, writhing in an agony that wouldn't go away. By that time the scarred man was back on his feet and had retrieved his knife. He was more cautious with his advance the second time but only marginally so. If anything, he seemed unable to accept an alien as a credible threat.

Before the scarred man could take more than a couple of steps, the cathar rushed to meet him. He caught the knife hand in his left and twisted. The man wouldn't release his grip so easy but that move was only done to control the weapon. The cathar used his free hand to send a chopping blow against the side of the man's neck, stunning him, before pulling back and slamming his elbow down on the elbow of the trapped limb. This time the man couldn't keep his hold on the knife and it fell from treacherous fingers. With the weapon out of the way, the cathar unleashed a series of blows. Glailen's eyes widened at what he saw for the attacks were not the blunt attacks he had expected. They were precise strikes that came from a trained fighter. Staggering back, the scarred man was unable to form a defense against the combination of speed and power. Dazed, the scarred man stood on wobbly legs as the cathar paused his assault only to step forward and drive his forehead against the man's nose. The man dropped heavily to his knees.

The third man had recovered and threw themselves upon his foe, trying to lock in a chokehold. Before he could, the cathar drove a hard elbow into his side that sent him stumbling back. Immediately the cathar was on him, diving at the man's legs and the pair tumbled down. They rolled around on the ground for a second before the cathar was back on his feet and holding one of the man's legs. From there it was easy to hyperextend the joint and more screaming filled the air. The fourth man had mustered the will to keep fighting despite the damage done to his face. Running at the cathar was the wrong choice, however, as it ended with a heavy blow falling across his head. The punch nearly dropped the man but before he could decide if he would fall or stand the cathar grabbed a handful of the man's shirt and threw him back to the ground.

With all of his assailants down, the cathar turned to the scarred man. The cathar lifted his arms and suddenly all but the scarred man were lifted from the ground by invisible hands around their throats. He let them dangle in the air, clawing for air, before closing his hands into fists. The three men shuddered for an instant and then ceased their struggles. The cathar released his hold and the bodies dropped lifelessly. With fear and awe, the scarred man looked at this monster staring down at him. His mouth dropped open, trying to bring forth sound. The cathar reached out a hand and the vibroknife flew to his grip.

"You're Sith…"

The knife plunged into the scarred man's chest.

"And you're not," growled the cathar. He released his hold on the weapon and stepped back. The man fell on his side and didn't stir. Then, slowly, the cathar's head turned and he stared – straight at Glailen.

The first thought to go through the Sith's mind was that it wasn't possible for the cathar to know where he was. That thought was quickly turned away when, an instant later, he remembered what he had just seen. Clearly there was more to the cathar just as Glailen had sensed. Realizing there was no point in trying conceal himself anymore, Glailen stepped out from his hiding place. As he did so his hand brushed against his lightsaber; subconsciously reassuring him that the weapon was still at his side. His pulse quickened as he met the cathar's eyes but whether from fear or excitement he couldn't say. Likely it was a mixture of both but one would win out in the coming minutes.

Glailen walked closer, unhurried in his stride, projecting an air of almost disinterest, until he was a few meters away then he stopped. He had seen the cathar move. A few meters should be enough if things took an exciting turn. Both men stared at each other for some time. Finally, Glailen elected to take the first step.

"An impressive display."

Still the cathar said nothing. He stood so completely still, the only sign that he was alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest. Even so, that menacing stare was hard not to take personally. Glailen cocked his head to the side.

"I wasn't expecting to encounter another Sith in this place."

"And you haven't. Officially." The sudden rumbling reply caught Glailen by surprise but he caught the hint.

"Of course. I think we have an understanding in that regard," he said with a pointed look. A low growl came from the throat of the cathar which Glailen decided to take for agreement.

"I was warned about some particularly violent slaves running around. Appears I've found them." With a wave of his hand, Glailen indicated the corpses littered around them. The cathar's eyes narrowed slightly and he took a single step closer. Glailen couldn't help but tense up from the movement.

"Is that why you were following me? You thought I was the one responsible for the killings?" The irritated accusations gave Glailen pause. He hadn't expected the cathar to sound almost…offended.

It hit Glailen like a punch when he believed he realized why the cathar was being defensive. Glailen was human and he was an alien in the Sith Empire. He was thinking Glailen had assumed he was the savage slave just because of his species. A dangerous situation to be in with someone the young Sith didn't need to know personally to figure was not short on personal pride. Such an obvious thing to pick up on in retrospect. Vette would have been disappointed at him for being slow to catch on.

"The first time I saw you was earlier," stated Glailen carefully, "when you had just finished killing that woman. You left in a hurry after you were done." The cathar seemed to stop and consider what Glailen said, looking away as he did.

"She was one of them, trying to lure me to her companions." Refocusing on Glailen, the cathar tilted its head in a gesture that looked more menacing than curious.

"You didn't happen upon me here. You were following me. I could sense it." Suspicion dripped from the cathar's words. Glailen shrugged nonchalantly.

"You're not the only one who can sense things through the Force. Curiosity drew me to you, a cathar on Dromund Kaas with a distant feeling of the Dark Side. Unusual." Daringly, the cathar advanced on Glailen in response to his words. He stopped with only a couple of feet separating them. It took a deliberate effort from Glailen to keep his hands from clenching into fists or, for that matter, a hand reaching for his lightsaber. The cathar didn't appear to carry the weapon of choice for Sith but just because Glailen couldn't see it didn't mean it wasn't there. It also didn't mean Glailen would hesitate to use his own even if the cathar didn't have one. Closer now, the cathar studied him for a moment.

"Does it bother you to find a cathar with a greater understanding of the Dark Side than yourself?"

Greater Understanding? That remains to be seen.

"Not at all," replied Glailen smoothly.

The cathar's bright eyes narrowed at the response. Despite the urge to rise to the challenge, Glailen held back. He knew the cathar was less interested in who was stronger and more in whether he was speaking with someone holding to traditional Sith ideas. A topic of debate seemingly unavoidable among Sith. In regards to which side they stood on, Glailen imagined they thought more or less along the same lines. Glailen stood impassively as he waited for the other Sith to reach some mental decision. He didn't have to wait long.

"Good," said the cathar in an almost whisper tone. He turned and marched away, apparently ending the conversation for both of them. It was just as well. Glailen had the idea the cathar was not one for enjoying interactions with other Sith. Or maybe other sentients in general.

Taking his eyes away from the retreating cathar, Glailen began retracing his steps through the woods. Before long he realized he had allowed his curiosity to guide him further than he had thought. Even so he was able to find his way back to where he had ordered the children to wait. As he approached the fallen tree, he found the boys were nowhere to be seen. He walked slowly up to the tree stump and stopped, standing completely still as he reached out with his senses in search of the boys.

A moment passed.

Another.

Grass shifted behind Glailen. So silent he wouldn't have heard it without the Force to enhance his hearing. He looked back to find the boys gathering together at his back. They had hidden themselves well. A fact that impressed Glailen. He hesitated a second before diving in.

"You know how to stay safe." It was a compliment. It was meant to be a compliment. Even to Glailen's ears, however, it fell well short of what it could have – should have – been. Despite the lack luster effort applied by Glailen, the boys actually stood straighter after hearing his words. It was enough.

"Let's go."

Reaching the bridge was uneventful which was just as well. Glailen wanted to be done with this valley. The boys held back a moment before following Glailen over the bridge. They were worried about what would happen next, he understood that. He would make sure they were safe. It was the least he could do.

"You've returned, my Lord. Unharmed by the looks of it." The lieutenant from earlier was still guarding the bridge. He didn't look at all tired so maybe he rotated out and then back on during the time Glailen was away. The Sith stopped in front of the officer.

"A stroll in the woods, Lieutenant, nothing more." The other man nodded but his eyes drifted down and looked behind Glailen.

"Except you haven't returned alone." Stepping aside, Glailen removed the cover the boys had been using to avoid notice though it hadn't worked. They clustered together, hoping to find if not safety then at least comfort in a group.

"These boys are willingly returning to the Empire. They understand they will return to slavery and in return I have assured them they will be treated fairly."

"I understand, my Lord. Rest assured I will ensure their reintegration into the system goes smoothly. They'll be strong when they grow up and the Empire needs strong hands to continue building it up." As he spoke the lieutenant coxed the boys to start walking with him.

"For the Empire," intoned the lieutenant. Glailen watched them go with resignation.

"Yes, For the Empire."

The lieutenant began leading the boys away. They cast repeated glances back at Glailen who elected to stay and watch them go for as long as he could. Upon reaching one of the tents erected around the site, the lieutenant pulled back the flap and beckoned the boys inside. They hesitated, looking back at the man who rescued them one last time. Glailen met their eyes and nodded. It was enough for the boys as they steeled themselves and turned away, disappearing within the tent.

Would he see them again? Did he do enough for them? These were the questions that dogged Glailen's mind as he looked away from the tent and began his journey to the landing zone where he could get transport back to Kaas City. He wasn't surprised to be thinking the questions, only surprised that he wasn't surprised.

Once he had secured transport and was on his way back, Glailen pulled out his communicator to contact Darth Baras. Within moments a tiny blue figure of the imposing Sith lord appeared.

"Apprentice."

"Mission accomplished, Master," Glailen stated, without preamble. The other Sith nodded.

"Good. Time will tell if it was enough to keep the surviving slave leaders quiet."

A pause.

"I trust you did your best to deliver the point?" Glailen looked away at the question, his mind turning to the scene he had left behind.

"It was a massacre."

"Excellent," replied Baras with the slightest hint of mirth in his tone. He looked away as well, appearing to consult a screen out of sight. After a moment he turned his attention back to Glailen.

"There is a situation developing; I may have another task for you soon. For now, return to Kaas City immediately."

Before Glailen could respond the connection was cut. He remained staring at where his master's image had been for some time before sighing resignation. It was a good thing Baras hadn't told him to go anywhere other than Kaas City because Glailen was already looking forward to taking some time off after that mission. At the very least, I hope the next mission is somewhat more appealing than killing slaves. Despite the amount of truth in those words, Glailen knew also it was dangerous to have such thoughts. He was his master's tool; he would do as told and be grateful for it. For now, that was his life.

Returning to the city was uneventful but for the fact the rain had finally begun to fall. The rhythmic sound of raindrops striking the hovercab tried to pull Glailen into slumber but he stubbornly refused it. He was a Sith and wasn't going to be caught snoozing. When the cab came to a stop at Lord Haits Towers, Glailen got up and left in a hurry to try waking himself up. Inside, the man from earlier was gone and a woman now sat at the reception desk. Glailen walked straight for the nearest lift. The woman watched him out of the corner of her eye but didn't try to stop him. Gratefully, Glailen watched the lift doors close and felt it begin to rise. He would finally get to see his new home.

The hallway was quiet; not unusual given the time of night but it did put the Sith a little on edge. He kept expecting one of the doors to open and someone to rush out, demanding why he was there as though he didn't have the right to be. Nothing of the sort happened and Glailen reached his room, swiping his key card and walking in. The first thing he noticed was Vette sprawled out on a T-shaped couch, lightly snoring. He only had a second to take in the image as, with his first step into the apartment, she suddenly shot up and her hands held a pair of blasters aimed at the doorway. She mumbled something indiscernible.

"It's okay, Vette, it's just me," stated Glailen in as soothing a tone as he could. One hand was on his lightsaber if the need rose.

It took a moment for the words to register but when they finally did, Vette lowered the weapons. She rubbed a hand over her eyes, trying to brush away the sleep that wanted to pull her under again. When she could see properly, she sent a slightly embarrassed look at Glailen. It would have been hard for her to explain why she'd shot a Sith if he wasn't still around to help.

"Oh, hey, guess I fell asleep." She offered a grin as she stretched out her arms. Glailen offered no immediate response, choosing instead to take a walk through the apartment.

"Good to see you've made it back. In one piece?" The edge to the question wasn't lost on Glailen. He nodded but didn't look her way. It was a kind gesture that Vette took an interest in his well-being and he thought it was genuine.

"I'm fine."

"Okay."

There was a silence as Glailen continued looking around. After a moment, Vette got up from the couch but merely stood in place. Perhaps she felt uncomfortable sitting around while he wasn't.

"So, I got some things. I didn't go crazy but we have enough to eat for a few days," supplied Vette in an effort to break the growing silence. Glailen glanced at her, took in her attire.

"You bought some clothes for yourself. Other things as well, I imagine." Vette looked almost surprised he'd noticed, then Glailen felt a flicker of worry.

"Yeah, you said I could."

"Yes. I'm glad you did," said Glailen, waving off the concern. Vette fought back a grin. She dropped down on the couch, apparently no longer concerned with enjoying the comfort.

"Well, I'm guessing you'll want some time to get familiar with the place. I'll just be around."

"I think I'll actually get some sleep," replied the weary Sith turning to the bedroom.

"Oh, right, that would be good too."

Glailen disappeared into the bedroom. There was only one. He wondered about that. If he was paying the rent then that was sufficient argument in his mind for getting the only bed but at the same time, he didn't feel right with Vette being required to go without. Maybe this wouldn't be their home, or at least not hers. They could look into getting a place with two bedrooms or looking at prices for her to have her own apartment. Glailen didn't mind downsizing either if need be. While nice, the current apartment was simply larger than he could imagine needing. It was, however, a worry for tomorrow.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Glailen placed his few things on the nightstand. Then he simply sat there staring at nothing but winding down. He sighed. Less than a day on Dromund Kaas and already he was wondering when his master would send him off to another world to do something more beneficial to the Empire. As opposed to hiding sabotage from within, of course. He also wondered when he could get into the field on an important front in the Empire's ever-present goal of expanding its influence. Given that he was no expert in espionage, the answer to that last one seemed clear to him.

"When the next war starts."

The words came out as a whisper as though Glailen were worried if he said it loud enough, he would start the war himself. Even as a whisper the words sounded incredibly loud to his ears. It was a foolish worry, but still. He had no qualms against fighting for the Empire – he eagerly awaited his next opportunity, in fact – but he didn't want to be known as the one responsible for reigniting the conflict. Luckily that was highly unlikely to be the case.

Sighing again, Glailen fell back onto the bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Perhaps what he needed was a decent rest. He should change out of his clothes though, before he dirtied the bed entirely. Before gathered the will to get back up, Glailen allowed his eye lids to slide shut for a moment.

The pinging of his communicator got his eyes open again. Glailen shot upright, looking around confused. Who could be calling him? That was a dumb question though. But had he fallen asleep without realizing it? No, a quick look at his chronometer showed only a couple of minutes had passed since he sat down. It was simply bad timing for him. But, bad timing or no, he had to answer the call so he did. With the push of a button a small see-through figure of Darth Baras appeared before him.

"Master." Glailen spoke tonelessly, trying to match the blank mask he wore to keep the annoyance and irritation he felt from showing.

"Apprentice," greeted Baras distractedly. He wasn't even focused on the person he had called but instead kept glancing away.

"The situation I spoke of earlier has escalated. Come to my office at once. We'll speak more then." As he spoke the words, Baras turned his head aside, focusing on something else.

Can't even be bothered to give me his full attention when assigning me a new mission.

Glailen didn't realize he was clenching his jaw shut until it started to hurt. He quickly flushed away the tension in his body before his master noticed. No anger, only control. Don't show any insubordination. It didn't matter what he thought or how his day had been; it was imperative he remember his place.

"Of course, Master," he said calmly. The connection abruptly cut off. Baras deigned not to waste further words. Glailen stared at his communicator for at least another minute before taking action. He gathered his things and left the bedroom.

"Awake already?" asked Vette by way of greeting almost the very instant he opened the door. Glailen was about to mention he had only been locked away for a few minutes but stopped when he saw the grin the twi'lek wore. She was making a joke. Glailen forced himself to relax. Any frustration he may or may not have been feeling was not her fault.

"Duty calls," he answered. A frown formed on Vette's face too fast for her to stop but she looked away quickly.

"Great. Maybe his Sithiness has more slaves for us to kill." Glailen would have to be the most oblivious person in the galaxy to not notice the bitterness in those words. But just as he noticed it, he also knew where it stemmed from. Vette did not, however, know all the details and even as Glailen thought about that he found himself putting it into words.

"Vette, those slaves I killed, they…they weren't good people." He hoped she would catch the meaning in his words. Vette opened her mouth to reply but stopped and shut it again. Frowning still, she turned away. Glailen could sense she wanted to argue but was too busying arguing with herself. She understood enough.

"I won't keep my master waiting," Glailen said and began moving towards the door.

"Hey, I'm coming too." Stopping, Glailen turned and stared back at Vette. She had gathered her things and certainly had the look of someone ready for whatever came next.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"You're not leaving me here alone to…" Vette's words trailed off as she looked away, brow furrowing in frustration. Glailen didn't think it was directed at him but he couldn't truly tell on this occasion. After a second to take a deep breath, his companion tried again.

"You're not leaving me here to play house maid every time." If the surety in her words wasn't enough, the conviction in Vette's eyes would have been.

"Alright."

The pair exited the room and made sure the door was locked before heading for the lift. What Darth Baras had for them next, they would learn together.