Disclaimer: Lucasfilm, Bioware, Disney, et al. and whoever they sell the rights to next own Star Wars and Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. I write this for fun and not for any monetary gain.

Chapter 12: A Nasty Surprise

While the twin suns of Tatooine slowly approached the horizon, the party of four slowly journeyed through the Dune Seas on their way back to Anchorhead. With a burlap sack, HK-47 carried the gaffi sticks from the camp—including the chieftain's—and those that they could find on their way. The droid found such menial labour a waste of his marvellous engineering, but since his Master ordered him to stop complaining, he had little choice in the matter.

As they neared the sand crawler with the murdered miners, they found two speeders that were apparently involved in an accident, with a few piles of rubble in between. Beneath one of the rubble piles, a female voice cried out, "Please help! I can't get out!"

The quartet paused. Something feels terribly wrong here, Bastila observed. I sense no life beneath that rubble pile.

The rubble doesn't look like they could have come from the speeders either, the Sith Master agreed. This is probably a trap. Reaching out with the Force, he telekinetically pulled three Gamorreans out of the speeders. They squealed in shock in mid-air before they were unceremoniously dropped on the sand. When they got back to their feet, they tried running away, but soon found that their legs weren't working, causing them to fall back on the sand.

"So what are three little pigs doing in the middle of the desert?" the Dark Lord asked. "Surely not building houses out of the rubble?"

"No, we are just passing by," one of the scared Gamorreans claimed.

The rubble pile cried out for help again. In fact, it sounded identical to the cry before. "So what's that under that rubble pile exactly?" the Sith apprentice inquired, suspicious at this development.

"Nothing," the second Gamorrean replied.

"A recording," the last Gamorrean claimed at the same time. The other two glared at him. "Sorry, I meant nothing," the fool added.

"That doesn't sound like 'nothing' to me," Canderous noted as the recording played itself again.

"If it really is nothing as you claim, then it shouldn't matter if one of you touched the rubble, right?" Revan asked. "Who wants to volunteer?"

All three Gamorreans fell over again as they tried to back away. Obviously, they were deathly afraid of touching it, lending credence to the trap theory. Taking advantage of their shock, the Sith scanned their minds. It was clear what they planned—touching the pile of rubble would trigger a bomb, severely injuring whoever attempted to rescue the non-existent damsel-in-distress. The Gamorreans would then come out to rob the victim of all their credits, or kill the victim if they resisted or couldn't pay.

Such scum, taking advantage of kindness, Bastila remarked, sensing the same thing.

Let's give them a taste of their own medicine, her Master agreed. "You there," he pointed at one of the creatures. "Go touch that pile of rubble."

The Gamorrean shook his head, clearly knowing his fate if he obeyed.

"What's the matter?" the Sith asked. "You said there's nothing there, didn't you?" Seeing no response, he waved his hand and intoned, "You want to inspect the rubble pile."

Unable to resist the mind domination, the pig walked towards his doom. His expression and gestures betrayed his fright, but his legs moved against his will anyway. The other two Gamorreans looked upon the scene in absolute terror, especially when the condemned touched the pile of rubble and was instantly disembowelled by his own fragmentation bomb.

"That's what you wanted to happen to us, isn't it?" Bastila inquired, a tinge of yellow in her eyes.

"No!" the creatures tried to deny. Yet, their panic betrayed them, for they couldn't help but remember what they did the day before. In their minds, the Sith couple saw the truth—a new hunter, Ward Fizark, fell for the same trap and was severely injured. The three Gamorreans demanded all his credits and gear, and when the human refused, they murdered him and dumped his naked corpse in the desert.

"Liar!" Bastila proclaimed, her eyes glowing yellow in anger.

"What's the punishment for premeditated murder?" the rightful Dark Lord of the Sith asked, his eyes also glowing.

"Answer: The prescribed punishment for first-degree murder under the laws of the Sith Empire—or the Republic, for that matter—is… death!" HK-47 supplied, his eyes glowing in malevolent red.

"I am sorry! It's all his idea!" one of Gamorreans pleaded, pointing at his compatriot, staring at those unnaturally glowing eyes in fear.

"No! It was his idea! Don't hurt me!" the other claimed, pointing back. Neither felt no remorse for the hunter they murdered yesterday.

Bastila unleashed her anger at one of the murderous pigs, roasting him with Force Lightning.

"Query: May I please terminate this meatbag, Mistress?" HK-47 asked, pointing at the other Gamorrean.

"Go ahead," she ordered as she continued the roasting.

The red-eyed droid advanced on the frozen creature and proceeded to beat the meatbag with his bare fists. When he's done, the quartet shook their heads and continued their journey, leaving the roasted and mechanically tenderized pigs to be consumed by wraids, the same fate they intended for their victims.

By nightfall, the party of four returned to Anchorhead. They dropped off the gaffi sticks in the Czerka offices, where a shocked Czerka representative handed over thousands of credits. They did not tarry afterwards, instead heading straight towards the Ebon Hawk. All of them looked forward to resting. It had been a long and exhausting day under the harsh light of Tatooine's two suns, and they had started the day close to sunrise. It was technically summer, and the day was especially long, although in practice, there were only two seasons on Tatooine: hot and hotter. Yet, it seemed as if their fortune had run out.

As they neared the hanger, the Sith Lord could sense something wrong through the Force. I feel it too, his apprentice concurred mentally. He gestured to his party to stop beside the entrance, and whispered, "Something feels wrong here."

"Statement: Charging weapons, just in case," came the predictable voice of HK-47.

"If this is a trap, I say we just go in and destroy them all," suggested the Mandalorian. It was not surprising: while the former commander certainly could use clever tactics when the situation called for it, he was never one to waste time on elaborate plans when brute force appeared to suffice. After witnessing Revan's full power that day, he doubted whatever danger they faced was a challenge.

"What about the other crew on the Ebon Hawk? Whoever is in there might have taken them hostage or something," asked Bastila with concern.

"We'll save them if we can," Revan declared with steel in his voice, "but we won't surrender just because they had hostages." This is not one of the 'heroic' Jedi tales in which the Jedi surrenders and then somehow, despite all odds, saves everyone, he added mentally. Finding the Star Forge and destroying Malak is more important.

His girlfriend was somewhat uncomfortable with his decision, having grown up with those stories that he had mentioned, but could not find fault with his logic.

The Sith couple wrapped themselves and the others in Force shields, protecting the entire party from blasters, just in case. To a lesser extent, it would also help with lightsabers, if that was the sort of danger they faced. With their weapons at the ready, they entered the docking area cautiously and approached the Ebon Hawk. Suddenly, the two Sith sensed something afoot. They immediately spun around and found themselves facing five Dark Jedi, lightsabers ignited.

"Lord Malak was most displeased to find the Ebon Hawk escaping the destruction of Taris," the leading Dark Jedi declared. "Imagine his anger when he heard reports of Bastila Shan being found alive on Dantooine. He promised a great reward to whoever captures her and destroys her companions."

Keep at least one alive for interrogation, the Dark Lord commanded mentally. His apprentice acknowledged the order.

Revan ignited his red lightsaber in one hand, while telekinetically grabbing one of the Dark Jedi by the neck with the other hand and flung him at the walls of the docking area, knocking him out cold. HK-47 activated his flame thrower and shot a beam of fire at the four remaining Dark Jedi. Three of them managed to dodge the fire, but the fourth one was not so fortunate. He tried to roll on the ground to put out the fire, but the distraction was enough for Canderous to shoot him in the face.

At the same time, one of the Dark Jedi charged at what merely appeared to be Bastila's Jedi companion, his lightsaber poised to stab. Revan saw into his mind easily and knew exactly how he planned to move. The Dark Jedi had vastly underestimated his opponent, thinking he was just a random Jedi Knight. It proved to be the last mistake he would ever make. With a lazy wave of his lightsaber in one hand, the rightful Dark Lord of the Sith deflected the attack, while blasting his enemy with Force Lightning with his other hand. The Dark Jedi was unable to raise his lightsaber to deflect it, with his blade trapped under his opponent's, and quickly fell to the ground screaming. In less than two seconds, he was left as a charred corpse.

Meanwhile, the secret Sith apprentice aggressively channelled her anger and threw herself into a fierce lightsaber duel. After deflecting a few hits from each other, she seized the opportunity to launch a Force wave. As her opponent stumbled, she took advantage of the distraction to push his blade aside. Igniting her second blade, she cut off the Dark Jedi's legs, causing him to fall to the ground screaming in pain. She pushed him into a wall with the Force, knocking him out.

The remaining Dark Jedi tried to attack Revan with the Force. She sent out a beam of Lightning, intending to electrocute him, but he caught the blast in his hand and sent it back, causing her to fall over in pain. He took the opportunity to put her into a blood choke with the Force, forcing her into unconsciousness.

When all the Dark Jedi had been defeated, the Sith Lord left HK-47 and Bastila to watch over the prisoners. He and Canderous quickly made their way onto the Ebon Hawk. He grabbed three neural disruptor collars from their stash, as well as some emergency painkillers. On the way, they noticed that a small skirmish had broken out on the ship and did not see any of the other crew members, except for T3-M4, who was disabled by a blast of Force Lightning.

Returning, Revan quickly snapped the neural disruptors onto his prisoners, and set it from his remote to a level that would barely allow communication but suppress most of their ability to use the Force. For the legless Dark Jedi, Bastila injected some painkillers in hopes of getting a better result than screaming. Not long after, the three captured Dark Jedi were awakening.

The secret Dark Lord quickly asked, "Where are the other crew members?"

"Why should we tell you, Jedi?" spat the Dark Jedi that he knocked out in the beginning.

"Because your lives will be made very unpleasant if you don't," threatened the Sith Lord.

"We aren't afraid of you, Jedi," the ignorant Dark Jedi said, his tone full of derision. "What are you going to do to us? Everyone knows the Jedi don't torture!" He laughed.

With a wave of his hand, the secret Sith Master pulled over the charred corpse of the Dark Jedi he had dispatched with Lightning. "Recognize him?" he asked. "I fried him with Force Lightning. I will fry you too if you don't talk."

"You will be expelled from the Jedi Order when I tell them that you used the Dark Side," taunted one of the other Dark Jedi, who did not seem to care about his severed leg, perhaps as a result of the painkillers.

"What makes you think I care? If you won't talk, by the time I am done with you, you'd wish I'd killed you right now," the Sith Lord grinned viciously. "Besides, you can't tell anyone if you are dead."

The last Dark Jedi gulped. The Dark Lord shot Lightning out of both hands, each hitting one of the Dark Jedi that taunted him. They screamed in agony. "Do you want to join them?" he asked with a sadistic grin.

"Please, I'll tell you what you want to know!" the Dark Jedi begged.

"What happened to the other crew members?" Revan demanded.

"The Cathar messing around with that lightsaber was no match for us, and we tortured her into unconsciousness with Lightning. The feline is only good for a slave anyway. The Twi'lek and Wookiee proved easily subdued. We handed them over to a blue Twi'lek we met in the cantina who told us about the Ebon Hawk. I don't know where he's taken them. He got a few guys to pick them up from us."

"What happened to the pilot?" the Sith Lord demanded again, raising his hand threateningly in the process. He was also pretty offended by how the Dark Jedi denigrated someone she didn't know.

The Dark Jedi looked somewhat smug for a second. "He's beyond your reach now. We already sent him off to the nearest Sith ship. I expect he's on his way to Lord Malak by now. There's no way you'll be able to catch up, and even if you could, you'd have to fight your way through the flagship."

"What about the Twi'lek that told you about the ship?"

"He said he talked to some people on the ship and told us about the crew. Said his name was Griff or something."

"Are there more of you on Tatooine?"

"No, this is all." Revan looked unconvinced and raised his hand. The Dark Jedi swallowed and quickly added, "I swear! Who would want to be left out of this chance to gain favour with Lord Malak? We only stayed because we thought there would be bigger fish!"

The rightful Sith Lord nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answers. He knew, of course, that while torture could almost always produce a response, the veracity of the response was hardly guaranteed. The Dark Jedi let out a breath, letting down her guard after the whole ordeal. Taking advantage of the opportunity presented, he seized her mind and looked inside. He found that she wasn't lying.

How low has the Sith fallen? He raged. When he had been in charge, no one would try to steal credit by killing people on their own side, for the penalty of that was death. Now, it seemed, with Malak's example of rising through treachery, that was no longer the case. Trust no longer existed, resulting in every sentient for themselves within the Sith, to the point where they would forsake backup to avoid betrayal.

What Revan saw in their minds was sufficient for the death penalty by either Republic or Sith law, but it was his lack of use for murderous Dark Jedi prisoners or a place to hold them that sealed their fate. Revan motioned for Bastila to step forward and commanded her to drain the lives of the three battered Dark Jedi. She did it simultaneously without much fuss, earning her some well-deserved praise. He telekinetically searched the bodies of the Dark Jedi and found a disturbingly accurate description of his and Bastila's appearance. He wondered where they had obtained it from, but decided it mattered little. What mattered was that their appearances were compromised. Instead, he took their lightsabers, keeping one to replace the lightsaber he gave to HK-47. He also gave another pair to HK-47 so the latter would be able to dual wield lightsabers and still have a backup. He also found a blue lightsaber that belonged to Juhani, which he would return when the time came. The other two were kept in storage.

Finally, they climbed aboard the Ebon Hawk for a desperately needed rest, deciding to leave the problems for tomorrow, when they are well-rested and sharp.

In the master bedroom, Revan and Bastila finally laid down together in bed and relaxed after a nice long soak in the tub together in the ensuite bathroom. This was one of the perks of flying Davik's ship, as the crime lord had such luxuries installed for himself instead of settling for sonic showers like his underlings. It was not as wasteful as it appeared, since the ship was also equipped with a water recycling system that captured over 99% of the water used. Juhani's kidnapping meant there was no longer a need to hide their relationship, so they had simply chosen to enjoy each other's company in such luxury. It was rather incongruous to cite this as a benefit though, so they didn't.

"So Carth is gone," the apprentice started. "And he knew about the Jedi Council's mission for the Star Forge."

"In retrospect, we really should have just flown the Ebon Hawk over to the Dune Seas. There is plenty of room to land there and we wouldn't have been attacked behind our back. Czerka would not like it, but they couldn't stop us. We didn't have to return to Anchorhead, after all—if we had taken your mother with us as we departed. Thankfully Carth remains blissfully unaware of our little plan to deal with Malak and the Jedi," the Sith Master said with some relief.

"Now I sort of feel bad for wanting to get rid of him… He won't be getting suspicious of us anymore, but even his limited knowledge will cause us a lot of trouble if he spills it. I suppose you should be careful what you wish for," Bastila remarked.

"Yes, I did not expect him to be gone like this… A rescue or even an assassination would be foolhardy in this state."

"Assassination?" the apprentice repeated with some shock.

"For people on my side carrying valuable intelligence in enemy captivity, I would prefer a rescue," Revan explained. "However, sometimes that's not possible. In those cases, if they haven't confessed, an assassination will eliminate any possibility of a confession and also spare them more torture…" He sighed, "I really don't like assassinating my own people, but it's better than an intelligence leak costing many more lives…"

"In that case, it really is the lesser of two evils, as distasteful as it may be," she agreed with sympathy. "Though I understand how hard it must be to make such decisions. Has it ever happened?"

"Yes," he answered simply, not wanting to elaborate. He quickly jumped back on topic, "But we are in a bit of trouble. There is no doubt that Malak will now be looking for the Ebon Hawk, so we need to either disguise the ship, or get a new ship entirely…"

"Yes, and no doubt Malak will be guarding the Star Maps now that he knows we are hunting for them. Do you have any idea how he would go about doing that?" the apprentice asked.

Revan thought for a moment. "Since Carth has no idea that I know Ilum is on the way and that we only need the waypoints after it, Malak has no reason to suspect we wouldn't need to visit every planet with a Star Map. Under such circumstances, it would make the most sense for him to heavily guard the one on Korriban. It's the Sith capital world after all, at least in name, and the Sith academy is also there. It's also the easiest world for him to set up an ambush for the Ebon Hawk, since it's deep within Sith territory, and multiple capital ships are always stationed there to prevent a Republic suicide attack. He might also destroy it just to make sure."

"What about the other maps?"

"Tatooine is safe for now. Malak will not send his fleet here when the Republic could so easily cut their supply lines. Besides, he knows we have this Star Map anyway. Manaan is also safe, and he would not move his fleet anywhere near to avoid kolto sanctions. The Republic will not allow the Corellian Run to be cut off—not unless it loses this entire section of the Outer Rim, at least—so we should be safe travelling between these two worlds. Kashyyyk might be risky. While Malak is unlikely to use his fleet to guard the planet, I expect Dark Jedi to be stationed there, just like here. A trap on the hyperspace route is also possible, so we might need a diversion. We'll have to figure something out before we leave, or try for the Manaan map instead," the Sith Master mused.

"Wouldn't Malak destroy the Kashyyyk map?" Bastila frowned. "He has people on the planet who could get the job done."

"No, I don't think he will," he decided after some thought. "The Star Map is rather difficult to reach, though still easier than Manaan. It would be much easier to prevent access."

"I see…" she conceded. "Hopefully we can reach Kashyyyk without trouble…"

"Same here," he agreed. "But first, we need to rescue the other crew members."

"Do you have any idea where they are? By the look of things, they are probably going to be sold into slavery…" she noted sadly.

"That does seem like it. To think Mission's brother would betray her like that…" he sighed. "They must have met in Anchorhead while we were dealing with the krayt dragon. Mission, probably trusting him too much, told him everything she knew about us. I suppose he's a good opportunist, taking advantage of the Sith stationed here as well as slavers to make himself a profit. Disgusting and selfish, but still, well-executed, especially since it only took him hours to arrange the whole thing."

"That doesn't make him less of a scumbag. To turn on your family members who trusted and idolized you like this… I think he deserves a long and painful death, unless you object, Master?"

"I can't say I disagree," he said. "Now, if they are going to sell them into slavery, they'll either auction them here on Tatooine, in which case we'll go and kill all the slavers. Or, they will send them off-world. Since this was a spontaneous plan, they will take some time to arrange for transportation, as they can't exactly shove sentients into the cargo hold and expect them to arrive in one piece. Either way, it's a problem we can deal with tomorrow." He paused, having thought of something. "I just want to ask, are you really alright with what we have been doing? It wasn't that long ago that you were a Jedi, and we've broken every rule of the Order this day…"

"You are wondering if I agreed to join you out of impulse and afraid that I feel trapped with you, doing things against my conscience because I have no choice?" she surmised, correctly. "I've had long to reflect on what the Jedi were doing before you remembered. I realized that the ideals I thought I was upholding… didn't exist." She snorted. "To never compromise their insanely idealistic principles, even in war. I fought for all that, risking my life as I did so every single time. To what end? Uphold a system of oppression? To protect people like the senator that HK-47 once served? To have the one person I hold most dear taken away as well, despite promises to the contrary? They lured me to fight for them with unrealistic promises, and then inevitably, they broke them. There was no doubt in my mind that the Jedi had lied to me, used me for their own ends.

"You know how seriously I take informed consent, Master. Our relationship is only possible because I knew exactly what I was going into, and I—out of my free will—agreed to give myself to you. The Jedi broke this principle, and I can't in good conscience continue to be one of them. How could you possibly consent to risking your life if you don't know the true nature of the cause you are doing it for? And so, I wanted a way out… But what choice did I have then? Join Malak? Not a chance. If I did not cling onto the Jedi lies, I would have nothing in my life. But you, Master, you offered me the third way out, to do more good than the Jedi ever could, and I could feel it was genuine, so I agreed. Perhaps I should have thought more before I agreed, but I don't regret it. Not when I no longer have to believe what I despise. Especially after the business with Juhani," she replied with conviction.

"But what about all the killing that you did? Are you truly alright with it?" asked her boyfriend, the worry clear in his voice.

"It was necessary, even though on some level I didn't like it. I thought about what I had done, about all the evils spared because a Jedi couldn't kill, and there had been no just authority to turn them to. A rule I once followed because I thought it was morally superior. Then I realized the truth: the galaxy would be a better place if evil no longer walks free. Evil can only exist when good people do nothing. If there is a functioning justice system, we should use it. Crimes are, by definition, vile acts that offend the people as a whole, and thus in an ideal galaxy, representatives of the people should prosecute the criminals, while other representatives should do their best to discern the facts. But crimes have to be punished to ensure deterrence, so if there is no just authority to turn to, we must do the right thing ourselves, and that includes killing if necessary. We owe it to all who would be victims were we to do nothing." She paused, and inquired, "Is this not what you have been doing for years?"

"It was, Bastila. You are right—justice is ultimately done by people for the people. Someone must take up that duty, and if no one will, then we must. I am worried because it was not an easy road to walk. It's so very easy to convince yourself that your actions are justified, once you start believing that you are always doing the right thing. The same trap that snared both the Jedi and Malak. The Jedi Council thought itself infallible, and had done numerous evils in the name of good. Malak simply decided that whatever he wanted to do, he would do." The Sith sighed. "I am glad to hear that you figured it out…"

"I have no desire to become like the Jedi or Malak," Bastila declared. "If I ever do anything that leads me down that path, please, punish me painfully, teach me a lesson I shall never forget."

"I shall hold you to your word…" he said at last, although it was clear he did not like the implications. "It would break my heart to have to punish you like that…"

"I know, Master," she agreed sympathetically. "The thought of hurting you is worse than the thought of any torture you could possibly do to me. Still, there must be consequences. I am sorry to put you in this position, Master. I will do my best to ensure you never have to hurt me."

"I know, Bastila. Enough depressing talk, let's sleep," he suggested.

"Good night, my Master." She gave him a quick kiss.

"Good night, my slave." He returned the favour and started stroking her hair as they slowly slipped into dreams.

The next morning, Bastila woke first, in her Master's arms. She slowly ran her hands over the collar she had been wearing since they got back to their bedroom. Nothing felt better than waking up well-rested while feeling the symbol of her slavery—of her willing submission to her beloved—around her neck, she decided. She smiled at the thought of belonging so completely and utterly to him and felt rather annoyed at the prospect of having to remove her collar soon. Suddenly, her face lit up. She used a Force illusion to hide it from view. Now if Master can't see it, he won't remove it. Even if he could, he might let me keep it if my illusion is good enough.

Soon, Revan also awoke. Looking at Bastila's neck, he mentally shook his head at her antics. He remained silent though, since the illusion was good enough for the time being. They quickly got dressed and ate breakfast. Nourished, they sat down with Canderous and HK-47 for a discussion on the next steps.

"So how do we want to find the others?" asked Canderous without preamble.

"First, I think we should go and find Griff," Revan proposed. "Since he might recognize us, it's best that you and HK-47 remain here to guard the ship, while Bastila and I go disguised to search for Griff, and convince him to give us information."

The crew agreed with this course of action.

The Sith couple soon prepared themselves and left the ship. Bastila untied her hair, changed her eyes to blue, and turned her hair to blond, as well as accentuating her curves. Taking further advantage of her illusions, she created an illusion of exposed skin over her new curves and form fitting clothes, turning them into a skimpy outfit. It had the effect of making her look like some kind of a prostitute, and she intended to use her new look to lure Griff away for interrogation. Revan darkened his skin and added a few wrinkles. He decided to play pimp, and somehow made himself look rather shifty. Their resulting appearances were rather disturbing, but it felt like an easy way to lure someone deprived of morals who recently received a large sum of credits.

By the way, if you lose the illusion on the collar, we can at least pretend that you are actually an enslaved prostitute, he remarked once she was done disguising herself.

Bastila blushed a little. It was foolish of me to think you might not see through my illusions, Master.

How about this? If you manage to lure Griff back without dropping the illusion on your face, I'll let you keep wearing that collar for the rest of the day, he offered. And if you manage to last the whole day without an accident, you can keep wearing it.

Such excellent motivation you give me, Master… she replied.

They quickly went through Anchorhead, searching it systematically for signs of Griff. They checked the Czerka offices, the swoop registration office, before finally entering the cantina. The Sith apprentice saw her mother inside again, but ignored her for now. She doubted it would end well if she were recognized.

The Sith Master looked around the cantina. After a few minutes, he was about to give up and start to chat with some other patrons when Bastila pointed out Griff watching a dance. It appeared that Griff, with his new-found wealth, decided to enjoy some activities more entertaining than mining.

The pretend prostitute quickly approached Griff, her face looking murderous. When she neared Griff, she forced her face to take on a pleasant smile, though it came out somewhat predatory. Deciding to do it quickly, she tapped Griff on the shoulder. The Twi'lek turned around and stared at her with hunger obvious in his eyes. The filthy scum actually started drooling as he ogled Bastila. She was beyond disgusted by the display and decided to alter the plan, for she had no desire to let the sleazy bastard—especially his saliva—touch her. She simply waved her hand and whispered, "You want to come with me. And do not touch me."

The Twi'lek was so weak-minded that the whisper seemed to have its full effect. He followed her as if he was under a spell, his eyes shining with lust. He seemed desperate to lay his hands on Bastila, but couldn't due to the mind trick. Revan shook his head as he followed. It was a pathetic display befitting a pathetic traitor that would sell his own sister into slavery. He was glad that Bastila changed the plan though, as he doubted he could watch the sleaze touch her without snapping his neck. That would have been disastrous. He noted to himself to avoid such plans in the future.

Soon, they entered the Ebon Hawk, and Revan shut the loading ramp, trapping their prey. Bastila turned around to look at Griff. Her pleasant expression vanished, replaced by a look of utter contempt and disgust. Dropping her illusions, she no longer looked like the prostitute she had pretended to be, instead looking every bit like the angry Sith apprentice she was, and a dangerous one at that, for her eyes shone in malicious yellow as she channelled the power of her dark emotions. Griff was shocked into a stupor at the sight of the unnaturally glowing eyes. The Sith apprentice paused, thinking about what she could do.

Let's try that choking thing Master likes to do sometimes, she thought to herself after a moment. She reached out with the Force and cruelly grabbed Griff's neck, lifting him up as she choked him. After a few seconds, she threw him down on the ground. She heard the rather satisfying crack of one of his legs breaking from the impact.

The Twi'lek scum looked at her, consumed by terror. She grinned viciously, before speaking, "Now, tell us where Mission and her companions are."

Griff steadied himself and croaked out, "I don't know what you are talking about…"

"Liar!" Bastila yelled, before Lightning poured out of her hands. She limited the power so it would cause severe pain, but not loss of consciousness or death. She let the Twi'lek scream for half a minute, before intoning again, "Where. Are. They?"

"I go-got s-some people fro-from Mo-Motta the Hutt to t-take them away. I d-don't know wh-where they ar-are ri-right now. M-Motta is pr-probably k-keeping th-them und-under gu-guard. H-He's pl-planning to s-sell th-them in th-the auc-auction here in th-three days," the traitor forced himself to say.

"What time?" she asked, annoyed.

"Af-After su-sunset," he choked out.

"Where is this auction?"

"Be-beside the sw-swoop t-track."

"How many people usually show up?"

"B-Buyers a-and s-sellers are fr-from th-this s-se-sector. A-around t-ten fre-frequent s-sellers and so-some m-more b-buyers. They u-usually come w-with s-some hi-hired bl-blasters."

Sensing no deception, Bastila was satisfied with the answers. She mentally asked her Master if he wanted to ask any questions, and he responded in the negative. She made a show of thinking, "Now, what should we do with scum that sells his own sister into slavery?"

"L-Let me g-go?" Griff suggested. "I al-already t-told you all that you w-wanted to know!"

"That was a rhetorical question," snapped the Sith apprentice. "I think you deserve to suffer for your crimes. Once we get Mission back, I am going to let her kill you. But first…" She channelled her rage and fired more Lightning at Griff, making sure to lower the power enough that it wouldn't cause cardiac arrest. After the Twi'lek filth screamed himself hoarse, he finally lost consciousness.

"Wow, that never gets old," she commented. "I mean, I shouldn't be enjoying this, but I really think Griff deserved this and more."

"I know…" said her Master sympathetically.

She had Griff tied up and thrown in the cargo bay, and left HK-47 to guard the "sad excuse of a meatbag" by whatever means he felt necessary, much to the droid's delight. However, the bloodthirsty droid was disappointed by the explicit order to keep the meatbag alive… for now. Still, that gave the droid something to fantasize about.

Returning, she asked, "Should we torture the information out of Motta the Hutt or wait for the auction?"

"If we attack Motta now, the other slavers might be able to take our allies away. We don't have enough manpower or firepower to stop them from escaping if they all ran in different directions. I think our best bet is at the auction. We can probably get rid of Motta and the other slavers in one go," Revan suggested.

"Good idea, Master," Bastila agreed. "Now I should probably go and talk to my mother."