HK-47 was on silent watch just outside the medical room. He greeted Cinder at her approach.

"How is she?" Cinder said.

"Answer: Her condition is adequate." HK was dour and deadpan as ever. The butt of his rifle rested against the floor and one of his hands lay atop the barrel. "Commentary: Despite your best efforts, I am not a medical droid."

"Spare me."

"Addendum: I would be better suited to amputating her legs."

"And how're they healing?"

"Qualifier: Nicely." HK bristled, rapping his fingers against the gun barrel. "Query: Master, the ship is growing overcrowded. Might I suggest we lessen the load?"

"Not yet," Cinder said. She was about to open the door when the droid spoke again.

"Consternation: Master, is there some kind of... tension between you and this organic? A disgustingly saccharine release of chemical compounds that creates, artificially, some kind of bond? Why must you keep her alive when she is wounded and dying, and the presence of all these people puts a strain on our stores?"

"What does a droid care about stores?" Cinder stared up at him for a minute, into those soulless red slits that were supposed to be eyes. Best not get on the bad side of the merciless killing machine. He might be my greatest asset. She sighed. "We'll weigh our options." Before HK-47 could respond, she opened the door and closed it behind her.

It felt like ages since Cinder had last been in the medical bay, though it had only been a short few weeks. The room was black as pitch. She wiggled a finger and the lights sprang to life, washing everything in a pale blue glow. Bestia lay in the same bed where Cinder had once been. Her skin drank up the light, turning it a noxious shade of lime. Her wide eyes fluttered open as Cinder stood beside her, until the light above her forced her to shield them.

"How are your legs?" Cinder looked over at them. They were still pathetic and twisted, though the healing process was running its course in the form of swamp-colored splotches. She could look no more and walked to the other side of the room, staring at her reflection in a wall as yet unmarred by the soot covering the rest of the ship.

"Better," Bestia said. Her voice was worn and ragged. The fall from the Fat Minister's court to the beast pits would have killed a normal person in an instant. The Force sensitive could survive, but only if they'd been prepared. Bestia, with her hands bound and ever-committed to their fool's blunder, was by no means ready for the drop. "Moving them's like quills under my skin. But that's still progress, being able to feel them at all."

Cinder swallowed. "I'm... I'm glad to hear that." A chill ran across her shoulders. She slid her hands down the front of her tunic and straightened herself up. She let out a heavy sigh and yet her burden didn't ease in the slightest.

"I know why you've come." Bestia coughed. "I don't regret anything. We were on death's door, and our last moments deserved to be good. Don't you agree?"

Leide's last moments were not good. And I pray mine will be more dignified than dying at the whim of a Hutt.

"Still," Bestia continued. She struggled to raise herself up from the bed. "I pray ask you forgive me."

I still cannot forgive myself. "She was my one and only," Cinder said as she turned around. Bestia relented on trying to move and kept still. "You know well I'm not one for doling out forgiveness." Cinder stepped closer and rested the back of her hand on Bestia's head.

When Bestia tried to speak, Cinder placed a finger against her mouth to shush her. "I will not forget this. That being said, I hold nothing against you." Cinder stooped down to her knees. The cold metal floor set them to throbbing, but she ignored the pain. Better to look her in the eyes. "To have a primal want that forces you to say 'damn it all' and follow its twisted path, that is an admirable thing. It's what separates us from the Jedi." Cinder bit her lip and took her next words with care. "The old ways have gotten us nowhere. I want you to be my Shadow Hand."

Bestia raised a nonexistent eyebrow. "But Lord Fell-"

"Damn the boy." She trusted Fell enough, but not completely. Cinder would need more than just one apprentice to keep the peace in her ranks and secure her rule. Betrayal was inevitable- she knew that much even without the harpy squawking in her ear- but that did not mean she should make no attempt to hold it at bay. "I require a left and a right hand."

"He will not too pleased."

"Ruin had a cadre, did he not?"

"Yes, but only one Shadow Hand. You."

"I won't repeat his mistakes." Cinder rose. "But if you don't want the job..." She took her lightsaber in hand and loosed the blade, holding it over Bestia's legs. "Sawbones outside prescribed amputation, but I think that notion ill-advised. I'm offering a second opinion: a recommendation to put you out of your misery."

"Lysara, this is madness." Bestia reared her head back as Cinder thrust the blade just underneath her chin. Bestia reached for her own saber still at her belt, before she remembered that it was no longer there.

Instead, it lit up in Cinder's free hand. "Looking for this?" The scarlet and orange blades met, crackling and snarling as they converged in an 'x' at Bestia's throat. "I like this no more than you do, but what choice am I left? The bright light of the blades made her eyes water. She closed them for a moment and thought about making the cut. Just one is all I need.

Instead, both sabers switched off. Cinder opened her hands and let the hilts clatter to the floor. "Forgive me," she said, her eyes stinging, "but I cannot do this." She turned and walked away, thrusting her head into a metal wall.

Her emotions would prove her undoing. This she knew. If she could not even keep them in check long enough to bend one apprentice to her will, how would she hope to control an empire? The matter of killing Ruin was all that was left, and now she was left wondering if she was capable of even that.

She was too attached, too much of a coward to risk the displeasure of anyone. Her attachment to Phanius made her leave the Jedi with him, too scared to say no. She was just as scared to tell Leide the truth of it before she left, and scared still during their final encounter on Korriban. Cinder thought killing her would make the pain go away and finally put things to rest. It had made it so much worse.

Fell deserved to die for attacking her on Korriban, and yet she held back. Bestia, too, for serving with Ruin and defying her in the pit as she did now. And yet she could kill neither. Fell was almost a son to her; they had a bond that transcended the base relationship of master and apprentice, much as she tried to deny it. What she felt around Bestia was complicated. All too similar to a certain feeling all those years ago, one that I hoped would never return.

Phobos would have had her kill them both. "They will betray you the moment they are able," the witch said, rattling in Cinder's skull. What do I do?

"Lysara."

Cinder heard Bestia from behind her, repeating her name. She blinked and felt the wetness in her eyes, then saw the clear liquid trickling down the wall where her face had been. Damn it all. What kind of Sith am I? "Yes?" she said as she turned around.

"Of course I accept," Bestia said. Her voice was hushed, her demeanor sheepish. She ran a hand through the growing tufts of hair on her scalp.

"Why now?" Cinder said. Her eyes were raw, the sockets puffy and red. "Do you wish to torture me so?"

"No, of course not." Bestia set a hand on one of her legs and raised herself upright as best she could. "As you said, we can't make the same mistakes. It's a new order. Where's the harm in trying something new?"

"This naiveté is not endearing."

"Naiveté?" Bestia smirked. "Two lieutenants can kill you twice as fast if they both feel they have something to gain."

Cinder pursed her lips. "You're threatening me," she said with a smirk of her own. "Even still, you two would have to fight over the scraps."

Bestia giggled like a little girl. "You mistake me. I've no ambition to your throne."

"No?" Of course not, I know well where her ambitions lie.

"I don't want it," Bestia said. "I do want to protect you, even if it's just from yourself."

"I'm not convinced." Cinder folded her arms. She wasn't certain where this was going.

"Well, as your new Hand, I'm obligated to tell you Lord Fell and I have discussed this arrangement before."

Cinder raised an eyebrow. More ambition than he will ever have. "What did he say?"

"You've taught him too well." Bestia laughed. "'Our way is treachery,' he said. Perhaps you need protection from him."

"I do not need protection." Cinder grimaced. Neither from myself nor my insolent apprentice. Still, her disposition softened. "But maybe I want it. I want someone at my side I can trust. It's not something I hand out freely."

"We understand each other, then." Bestia slipped a wry smile. "Master."

The way she said it made Cinder's flesh run with goose pimples and sent a wreath of blush creeping across her face. She set her feelings aside and said, "What did you learn from your discussion with Fell?"

"He thought we would fracture like the Triumvirate of old."

So he does remember my lectures. "It's not the same arrangement." Cinder sat down in front of Bestia and crossed her legs. "Yet you think he will betray me."

"He will try, but I doubt he has the ability."

You'd be surprised. Fell's affinity for the Force had made him advance through his training regimen quickly. And to think the Jedi would have turned him away because of his age. Their duel on Korriban had been quick and bloodless, but Cinder did not doubt that Fell would be able to best her in due time. "Perhaps not yet," she said."

"Regardless, Lady Cinder, I can protect you if you let me." Bestia winced before laying back against the pillow. "Just let me."

Cinder stopped herself before she could get too lost in thought. "Focus on your legs," she said as she rose and moved towards the door. "We'll need your help to guide us to Rhen Var." She switched off the lights and left Bestia to her rest.

HK was still standing silent guard outside. "Query: What happened in there, master? I heard quite the commotion earlier. Shall I fetch a body bag?

"No," Cinder said flatly. The droid's demeanor could be charming, though she found it grating in times like these. Her attempts to mollify his homicidal tendencies had been only half-successful. And the fight with Mandalore seemed to awaken something in his subroutines that seeks to undo my work. "Make sure Bestia heals. She's capable of doing it herself, but speed the process along if you have to. I have no idea how long it will take us to get to Rhen Var space, but I need her lucid before we arrive. And moving before we make landfall. Understood?"

"Affirmation: Understood, master. I will continue playing the doctor for the lump of gutless suet."

Her nostrils flared. "Mind your vocabulator. Your quarrels with Fell are as much as I can stand; I will not have you loose barbs at Bestia as well."

"Confusion: Master, whatever do you mean?" HK-47 turned to face her. "The boy and I have reconciled. Clarification: Well, as much as we can, at least."

He lifted a finger to his chin in a facsimile of thought. "Jest: It is some kind of bond, isn't it?" he said, peering down at her through those blank red eyes.

"Jealousy does not become an assassin." She set a hand on the pommel of her lightsaber. "I don't care how useful you are to me, I will not hesitate to turn you to scrap if you move against anyone on this ship."

"Query: Even the scrawny thing from beyond the galaxy? She seems to vex you so. Boasting: I can snap her in two like a tree limb if you like."

Cinder had let stress get the better of her upon meeting Xira. I meant all of my ire for Kregg. "The Nagai does not annoy me. Where did she run off to, anyhow?"

"Answer: Your manservant is in the cockpit charting course. The smuggler is in the engine bay. I would assume the sentient twig is in there with him."

"So, we're en route then?" Cinder placed a hand on her hip. She was relieved Fell had done what she asked. All too often he did everything but. "I'm returning to my chambers," she said to the droid. "Fetch me when we've arrived."

"Affirmation: I will report to you when the meatbag is in a more suitable state." HK-47 gave her a salute before reassuming his watch position.

When Cinder got back to her chambers, she cupped Phobos' holocron in her hands and set it gently down on the floor in front of her. When it didn't activate at her touch, Cinder looked it over. She almost screamed when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Phobos was behind her, appearing even more corporeal than she had in the beast pit.

"I didn't think you'd wish to speak with me again so soon, Dark Lady." Phobos grinned as she walked around Cinder and sat in front of her. She slouched forward, setting her clawed hands upon her knees. "You have questions, I have answers. They might not be the ones you want."

"Spare me, witch," Cinder said, waving her hand. "I know you haunt my thoughts. What say you about Bestia's words?"

"The boy's treason?" Phobos grinned. "I've warned you of that already, though you choose to ignore me."

"Again, spare me."

Phobos leaned forward until she was right in Cinder's face. Instead of smelling flesh and breath, there was no scent at all. "Why do we have these conversations if you do not wish to truly hear my words?"

"We are Sith. Betrayal is in our blood. What is the point of you telling me of an inevitability?"

"You know it to be inevitable, so you claim. But you do not want it to be." Phobos waved her hands. "And so, in some misguided futility, you will rage against fate. All because you love them both."

"I will deal with whatever threats come my way in time," Cinder said. "If you wish for me to kill them now, give me good reason. Then I can deal with it after the Dark Lord is dead."

"Being dead doesn't make me an oracle, foolish girl." Phobos cracked a smile. "You're not ready. I can feel it. Too many doubts for a ruler of the Sith. The fears that float within your head make oceans seem empty."

"Of course I have doubts," Cinder said. "Didn't you? I will put them aside when the time comes."

"Maybe he will put those doubts to rest."

Cinder scowled. "When are you going to tell me who he is?"

Phobos laughed. "I don't need to, my poor, scared little girl. Ruin will tell you." The laughter echoed all around, raining down like arrows. "And if he doesn't—or can't—then he will tell you himself."

Cinder wanted to throttle the witch here and now. She stopped herself from smashing the holocron to pieces with her boot. "How do you know him?"

Phobos giggled, then gave Cinder a great, shark-toothed smile. "I spent my final years searching for him alongside my cult. A font of great power, that I learned about from a text on Wayland. I thought I found him on that frozen hellworld you're being led to, but I was dead before I could tell. My dying moments were assaulted by the ceaseless chattering of 'He is not ready'."

"And now he is?" Cinder had no clue how old Phobos even was. The events the witch described could have been five years ago or five hundred.

"Ruin woke him," Phobos said. "The wounds refuse to scab over; they are ready to burst. Even dead, I can still feel the Force. How it screams, how it twists, how it writhes. Its agony is delectable, yet still I understand the consequences of its throes." Her smile turned solemn. "You feel the darkness rising, yes?"

Cinder had felt more disturbances in the Force, though none had been as great as the one that almost sent her doubling over on Nar Shaddaa. She nodded. "Say what you mean to say."

"It will consume this galaxy if left to fester. Kill it at its source."

"And why would I do that?" Cinder did not doubt Phobos' claim was truthful, but she remained apprehensive. If this being is so powerful, then perhaps I ought learn from him.

Phobos scowled. "When you return to the void, maybe then you will understand."

"That will be a long time yet, witch."

"That remains to be seen." Phobos wore a proud grin. "Run along now, girl. You have a monster to slay." The witch was gone as quick as she had appeared.

Cinder swatted the holocron away with the toe of her boot. It went sliding until it hit the wall on the opposite end of the room. She raised her legs up to her chest and buried her head in her knees.

Perhaps Ruin would spare her one final lesson.