Chapter 5 Walk Into My Parlor Said The Spider
"So tell me what it is
I'm running outta options
Lowering my defense
Trying to make sense
You make it easy
And your waves pull me deep underwater
I'm getting weak at the thought
Fall to my knees here's my offer
You know I am just a mortal"
Baby Rose—"Mortal"
Qimir didn't expect to see her outside of the cave.
His pot of crab soup had finally simmered down into the thick creamy consistency he liked until it was practically a white stew with rehydrated tubers and wild onions floating with the meaty chunks of crab meat he seasoned well. He poured a good steamy amount into a ceramic bowl and crumbled a packet of salt crackers on top for a little crunch. While he stuffed a couple of sealed packets of Corellian Ryshcate pastries into his pants pocket in case Osha wanted a dessert after her meal, a stirring in the Force gave him pause. Like the ripples from a rock in a pond, it moved towards him in transverse waves. The initial impact literally felt like someone had thrown a pebble at him, but it was too weak to strike him directly, so it sent the undulating waves to capture his attention before the sensation dissipated and he was standing still holding Osha's meal in the front section of his cave.
Master Plagueis often announced his presence through the Force in a not-so-subtle way when he was near, but this was not him. It was something new. Qimir didn't think it was that other person either. The one he sensed on Brendok. There was no way that bitch would've found him, even if she hired ten thousand Tynnan trackers to scour every corner of the galaxy. The feeling creeping across his skin grasped at him with a hushed urgency he couldn't pinpoint directly.
He strode out from the cave, needing to get the bowl of hot food to Osha quickly, and he was pleased to find her already waiting for him. Except…something was wrong. Wild-eyed and shaking from bafflement, Osha appeared beyond confused. Her explanation for how she arrived at his home brought on a slew of questions that needed answering. He believed every word she said because the proof was in the way her eyes bled from pure smoky black into her beautiful rich cinnamon brown ones with the clear whites of the sclera. It would've been pointless to mention it to her in the state she was in. He coaxed her with the food and gave in to the compulsion to kiss her flesh. The taste of salt from the sweat on her brow lingered on his lips, and he licked it away without her noticing.
Osha followed him, and the late afternoon temperature inside the cave was perfect for a hearty soup. He guided her to the workroom section of the cave where one of the hydrothermal springs scattered throughout his home gurgled with a soothing ambient sound.
"Sit here," he said, placing a work bench not too far from the cave spring.
Osha stared at the dancing patterns of light reflecting from the water shimmering on the roof. He kept plenty of amber lamps on around the room and it glittered on the water's surface, too. She relaxed more being there.
"I'll go fix me a bowl too," he said.
Qimir left her side and scooped out his food in the kitchen area. He thought of pouring them cups of fresh water, but he thought some good strong spirits was in order and grabbed a bottle of homemade liquor and poured them both tall glasses. Holding his bowl of crab soup and carrying their drink glasses together with his thumb and index finger in his other hand, he returned and offered the liquor to her. Osha took the glass and gulped down all of it with no questions asked about the odor of the contents. She closed her eyes and grimaced as the burn coursed down her throat. He pulled up a stool to sit near her and noticed cuts and smeared blood on the bottom of her bare feet.
"What happened there?" he asked, pointing to her wounds.
She shook her head and tucked into the bowl. The first bite from her spoon brought about shiny eyes at how good it tasted. He picked at his food and watched her, enjoying her delight at a solid meal prepared by him.
"S'good…really good," she said.
"This place has a ton of soft-shell crabs. I eat a wide variety of seafood daily. Wild vegetation provides plenty of food inland. There's a type of breadfruit that grows here that I make into bread and cereal. There's a seasonal green fruit too. It has the texture of meat when you pluck it before it ripens. It's an excellent protein source to switch up from the seafood."
"What happens if you pick the green fruit after it ripens?" she asked, scooping crab into her mouth.
"It turns sweet and has a less fleshy texture. I like to use it before then because it has no flavor and I can season it to taste like any kind of meat I want depending on how I cook it."
"A regular island chef," she teased.
He grinned and beckoned toward her bowl.
"More?"
She wiped the corners of her lips and gave him a shy smile.
"Yes…please."
"Glad you like it."
"I can fix it myself."
"You're a guest right now. More crackers on top too?"
She nodded, and he took her bowl away. He filled it to the brim again, and she scarfed it down as if it was her first bowl. Her appetite was healthy, and he watched her eat while he took his time with his own helping. After she was done, she sighed with satisfaction and placed the bowl next to her hip on the workbench. The liquor's calming effect took hold of her. The muscles in her face were less tense, and she looked…pretty. He cut his eyes away to finish up his meal. She surveyed the cave the same way she had done the first time she was there. He put his bowl down near his foot. Clasping his hands together, he stared at her until her gaze locked in with his.
"Your sister told me a lot about your lives growing up on Brendok."
Her right eyebrow rose. She crossed her arms and rested them on her lap.
"How much did she tell you?"
"You were part of a coven. Outcast witches…"
Her eyes flicked away to look at something other than him.
"Do you find shame in that?"
"No."
"Then why look away?"
She glared at him and her mouth bunched up.
"I know about the reputation of witches. I've studied a lot of deviant cultures over the years," he said.
"We weren't deviant."
"So…by that tone, you still consider yourself a witch?"
"Did Mae?"
Her question challenged him, and those cinnamon eyes shifted into defiant, dangerous stones. The surrounding energy vibrated at a low frequency, one of caution and concealment.
"Yes. She did."
"But I thought she was trying to be like you."
"What am I?"
He relaxed his physical stance and allowed a small portion of himself to open up to her in the Force.
"You aren't supposed to exist. The Jedi wiped your kind out."
"What is my kind?"
She huffed in frustration, and he kept his gaze steady.
"When I was a Padawan, I learned about the Sith. They taught us your history."
"I learned about them the same way you did, Osha. In fact, my instructors on Coruscant predicted I would become a formidable Jedi in the ranks… until I wasn't anymore."
That tidbit brought a jolt to her body. Her folded arms pulled apart, and she gripped the edge of the workbench.
"What happened?"
He lifted his glass of liquor and sipped it slowly.
"Like your coven, they labeled me a heretic. My Master led the charge simply because I asked too many questions and viewed the world through unique eyes and wanted new ways of being. My questions and behavior challenged the Jedi core tenets, and my Master punished me and cast me out like a fallen diathim from heaven. Exiled."
He drank more liquor, and it loosened his tongue. There was still half a glass left, but he wanted to savor the slow buzz. Liquor made him too flirty if he overindulged, and now was not the time to tempt her into something carnal. The possibilities for a consensual union weren't off the table for him in the future. Something other than a master and student relationship pulsed between them. Their chemistry was undeniable. Palpable. He pushed it away for another time and focused on an exchange of information. That was the only currency he had in his favor to secure her inside his web of influence. He swiped his tongue across his teeth with his mouth closed.
"It's a tough adjustment in the real world once you're no longer a Jedi," he said. "I wandered the galaxy working in mines. Joined a few marauder crews on raids in the outer rim. Learned to maneuver hyperspace routes that others in my old world wouldn't dare try. That's how my new Master found me."
"You have a master? I thought you were some rogue who loved living in isolation."
Qimir glanced around his humble abode.
"This place is just one of many that I use. I come here to plot and think."
"Being a pirate has been lucrative for you, I see."
He studied her doubtful expression. It was time to give and take with her. She was the bag and he was going to secure it.
"Would you believe me if I told you I come from wealth? Nobility?" he said.
Osha held her head higher and inspected his countenance. Something lit up her eyes.
"Did you want to be a Jedi?" she asked.
"I was never given a choice. My parents handed me over to my first master when I was too young to question what I wanted. My family was part of a royal house that was under attack in a feudal skirmish. Becoming a Jedi protected me from assassination attempts on my home world. I grew into it as a clean slate, which is what they always want because it's easier to brainwash children with their doctrine when you don't know any better. You're made to feel special because the Force is so strong within you as they cut you off from your blood family and your own distinct culture. The Jedi break you down and build you up into a good little child soldier. Then they send you out into the world as a programmed adult to do the same to other Force sensitive children everywhere."
Qimir chewed into his words and stopped himself from cursing as he spoke.
Osha didn't interrupt him, nor did she challenge his take on the Jedi. Perhaps she realized for the first time that she was nothing but a former child soldier, too. He dipped further into her layers, aiming for the core of the matter.
"Did your coven ever show you how to teleport your corporal body? Have you ever witnessed it yourself as a child?"
Osha gazed at the floor and thought about it.
"My mother could do things. Move the double moons on our planet…focus orbs of energy in her hands and use them as weapons. She was a master of shadow majik…"
Qimir shot up from his seat, electrified by her words. He turned away from Osha and paced a bit before looking at her again. Mae had mentioned their mother taught ancient spiritual practices with their religious order that revered nature and feminine energy. She never revealed to him the woman was a master of the dark arts. Such a pity that Sol killed her, Qimir lamented. He could've learned so much firsthand about that realm of the Force.
But he had her daughter.
He dropped to one knee in front of her.
"Tell me exactly what happened before you vanished from your cave. I know you said you were angry and screamed, so you used that energy to open a portal of some kind. It could be another latent ability, like your gift of foresight. But we need to figure out why you came here and not somewhere else."
Worry lines crinkled her forehead.
"Think hard, Osha," he pushed.
"I found some old clothing that belonged to Mama and my sister. Her cowrie shells and tiny glass beads too. A rage overpowered me and I wanted to kill every Jedi…my eyes turned black and I disintegrated… I saw your face…it was like I could see a light and you were in it so far away and I…went away."
"You saw my face? During all that?"
"Yes."
"Did you feel any pain at all?"
Her eyes darted back and forth.
"No. More like a pressure…like when you swim and get caught in a wave you can't get away from and it bashes you about, pulling you under like a funnel of gravity."
"But you saw me before the funnel pulled you under, correct?"
"I think so. I became a dark mass…like a black mist… and you were there…on the other end of a tiny spot of light."
Qimir rested his hands on top of hers.
"Before I came outside to bring you food, I felt a pull on my energy. I think you were connecting with me and that portal brought you here. You wanted my help and fixed your mind to conjure me up as your exit point. If you can learn to control that…bend it to your will…do you know what that could add to your arsenal of power?"
He lowered his head, and strands of his hair brushed across her fingers. She looked deep into his eyes when he lifted his head.
"Being a witch is a profound thing to be. I have old data-tapes and flimsiplasts of arcane knowledge that mention abilities like that and more. Whatever your mother taught you—"
"Mothers. I had two mothers."
"What happened to your father?"
"We don't have one."
"You didn't know who he was?"
"Mae and I never had a father. We were born without one. There were no males on Brendok. Mama created us and Mother bore us."
"How…?"
Osha regarded him with fragile, liquor-soaked eyes. His homemade concoction thrummed warmth in his veins and his face felt flushed.
"Your mothers were human, and they created twins without semen?" he stammered.
"Mama was human and Mother was a Zabrak."
Qimir sat down on his stool. He knew of certain humanoid species that could switch sexes if their populations didn't have enough males or females to procreate with. Zabrak's were not built like that. They were tough warriors and often arrogant, swift to use fists rather than words. The ones he knew of in his circle had children the way humans did, and even if they needed medical help to do so, it still required male jizz. Hair on the back of his neck rose.
"They used majik to create you. Force majik," he said.
Osha's lovely eyes were human. She had solid flesh. She bled. Breathed. Majik had the power to bring illusions to life, making them seem incredibly real. The woman in front of him was more than real to him.
"Mama pulled on the Thread. Used it to make us. Mae and I were one split into two… shaped and filled with love from Mama. I can't tell you exactly how it was done, but she did it. We were the only infants ever born on that planet. She tried many times and failed for years until she grew stronger and more knowledgeable about wielding the Force in that way. I think maybe she wanted to teach all of us how to do it, eventually. She wrote about it in her private office."
Qimir's mouth fell open, and he gawked at Osha.
"She wrote down how to create babies by manipulating the Force…shit," he said.
He noticed her feet again. She looked at them, too.
"I ran to Mae's cave after my bath in the lagoon. I didn't put my boots on."
"Why not?"
"I was upset thinking about everything. I ran to the cave and then…you know the rest."
He moved into his kitchen area and picked out a clean cloth and dipped it in the barrel of water.
"Lift your foot for me," he said.
He knelt down and cleaned her left foot. Then her right.
"Soak your feet in the pool. It has healing minerals that will help soothe those cuts," he said.
Osha left the workbench and lifted her tunic with one hand. He held her other one to help her step into the far end of the pool where there was a small ledge to prop her feet. She sat down and lifted her tunic higher on her thighs. Bashfulness came over her and she shoved it back lower and he realized she wore no underwear and didn't want to overexpose herself.
"Not too hot, huh?" he asked.
"No. Feels nice."
He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out the packets of pastries he'd forgotten about.
"Something sweet to nibble on," he said.
She tore open the first packet and tasted it. He waited for her to finish both of them before he took the empty packaging away and gave her time to soak.
He cleaned and put away their empty bowls. She had enough of the water after fifteen minutes.
"I want to show you something," he said.
There were a pair of old sandals in a corner, and he grabbed them for her.
"Put these on."
Osha stood and grabbed the damp cloth he used to wipe her feet and blotted the bottom of them again. She slipped on the strapless sandals and followed him to his bed. He pointed to the large, ominous-looking circular opening behind it.
"I keep important things in there. Things I want you to know about."
He climbed on the bed and stepped inside the opening.
"Come," he said.
Osha climbed on the bed and followed him through a dark tunnel that led down to another part of the cave. He tapped a lamp on the wall and the interior lit up.
"Whoa," Osha said.
She ogled the shelves that housed hundreds of data-tapes and flimsiplasts that surrounded a round table carved out of stone from the cave floor. She glanced around until her eyes fell upon his most prized possessions.
Eight tetrahedral-shaped holocrons.
The light from the lamp caused the exteriors of the holocrons to sparkle in their various colors of blood-red, obsidian, and gold. She moved closer to them. A stone plinth supported each one, positioning them at eye level.
"May I?" she asked.
He nodded, and she reached out to touch a red one. The moment her hand raised in front of it, the holocron glowed, shining scarlet rays on her face. He smiled. Only those on the dark side of the Force could activate a Sith holocron if their power was strong enough. And only if they were worthy, too. She admired the intricate crystal lattices and vertices before she touched the base where an ancient inscription carved there caught her attention.
"A Zabrak wrote this," she said.
"You can read your mother's language?"
"I remember most of it. I studied it on Coruscant. This says 'There is Power in the Shadows'."
She looked at the other holocrons.
"How were you able to get these?" she asked.
"Long stories. I'll tell them to you one day."
She smirked and turned towards the other shelves which held more history that she could never finish reading in her lifetime.
"I spend most of my days in here, studying and looking through archival history."
"What are you studying for?"
"To know myself. My power. I will use it to understand you more. Hidden away in here are answers that will help you know yourself too. There are volumes about witches that I haven't even cracked open yet. Now that you're here, you'll spend a lot of time in here with me."
He searched for a particular data-tape on Zabraks and pulled it from its place.
"Take this and study it."
"What is it?"
"The history of your people. Zabraks from Iridonia who chose our path. Mae said your mother had horns, so she couldn't be from Dathomir."
Osha cradled the data-tape. He retrieved another for her.
"This one I need you to pay close attention to for your human mother. Do you know what her original home world was?"
"Espirion. But she migrated to other places as a child with her parents. She didn't tell us about that, so I assumed it was a hard life. Mama was charismatic and highly educated. She spoke so many languages. She met mother on Coruscant for a conference and they traveled together building our coven. I don't know the place they were exiled from."
"When you open this one, try to see if you recognize anything similar to your mother's practices. It can help us pinpoint what you are truly capable of."
She grumbled and piled it on top of the first data-tape.
"I thought my training was going to be in the martial arts and the philosophy of the dark side."
"All in due time."
"Homework…seriously?"
"Seriously. And if you don't find anything there, we'll have to crack open the elder tomes."
"The what?"
He pointed to stacks of old physical books leaning against a data-tape shelf collecting dust.
"Did Mae have to do all this?"
"I never brought her inside my cave."
Osha studied his expression and moved closer to him. She tilted her head and he could smell the strong liquor on her pores.
"Why didn't you bring her here? What makes me different from her that gives me the privilege of being so close to you? Seeing your face? I mean, she and I are exactly alike."
Her assertive stance momentarily took him aback, especially with the way she looked at him, like he was a meal to be devoured and licked from her fingers. It had to be the liquor working up her nerve. He liked it though.
"Hmm?" she murmured.
She pushed up on him until he was backed against a shelf. Her shorter stature didn't diminish the boss energy she displayed. He lowered his head so that he looked down on her to take control of the situation. He enunciated each word.
"You. Are. Not. The. Same."
"How do you know for sure?"
Her gaze stayed on his lips as her warm breath blew on his neck.
"Because I don't think she'd want to kiss me the way you do right now."
"I don't want to kiss you."
"Yes, you do."
Her body became trembly, and he hoped she would be bold enough to do it. Arousal colored her pupils and they dilated. She touched his chest lightly and her eyes narrowed.
"I feel something," she whispered.
He did too; however, it wasn't the romantic inclinations simmering between them. His sensor alarm in the upper section of his cave squawked to life, alerting him of a large starship breaking past the ionosphere.
He grabbed Osha's hand and pulled her into the tunnel, leading her out of his library.
"What's wrong?" Osha squeaked out.
His nerves spiked, but he focused on gathering non-perishable food items for her to take back to her cave. He stuffed them into a worn out rucksack and slung it on his shoulder.
"Qimir, you're scaring me."
They had less than an hour until the starship reached his shore.
"I'm taking you back to your cave. My Master is coming here right now. I don't want him knowing about you yet. You need to stay in your cave until I'm gone."
"Gone? Where are you going? You're leaving me here by myself?"
She shadowed him out of the cave. The sun traveled a downward path and they trekked past gun-metal gray stone monoliths.
"My Master has come earlier than expected. We have some business to attend to off world. I had hoped to have you better prepared."
"How long will I be here alone?"
"A week or more, depending on his needs. His plans often change. You'll have access to the Exile II for emergencies."
"What if something happens to you and you don't come back?"
He stopped mid-walk.
"I'll come back."
The worry in her eyes softened his voice.
"I'm going to make a Sith assassin out of you in no time."
"Then why are you hiding me from your master?"
"He doesn't know about you. Or Mae. I didn't want to present him with anything other than the best for our ranks when the time was right."
"You've had other acolytes before me and Mae?"
"Yes."
"What happened to them?"
"He killed most of them."
"Why?"
"They were weak and ineffectual. Not up to his standard."
"So if I don't measure up?"
"He'll kill you like he did them."
"Fuck. The Jedi just let you wash out with no hard feelings."
"You're not a Jedi anymore. And if I don't get you put away, this might be your last day alive."
"Not if I force choke your master like I did Sol."
Qimir threw his head back and laughed.
"I respect the confidence."
They continued walking and paced through the rock corridor that led to her cave. He handed the shoulder straps of the rucksack out to her.
"There are binoculars and a bunch of glowrods in there too if you want to hike around at night after I'm gone. You can move freely inside my cave and sleep there if you want for a couple of days. When I return, don't seek me out until my Master's ship has left."
"Got it."
"You're the only apex predator on this island. I'll leave the leftover soup in my conservator. Go easy on the liquor."
Osha reached for the rucksack and stroked his thumb gently in the exchange. He lingered inside her gaze.
"Be careful. You don't want to waste all this potential," she said, trying to joke with him.
Sunlight dappled across her cinnamon eyes and they drew him in like magnets. He wondered if she could handle being all by herself on a strange island. With Mae, those thoughts never crossed his mind. He didn't care then because that twin was going to be a knife he sharpened and used to build an army for his Master.
But Osha?
Could he hand her over so easily when the time came? Especially when he needed her for something more pressing in his future plans?
"Take care," he said abruptly, breaking away from the hold she had on him.
He blocked her from his mind, raising a Force shield in his brain to prevent his Master from sensing her presence in his thoughts. A flash of bright light dropped onto the horizon. The Master's Scimitar starship streaked his way.
Inside his cave, Qimir deftly slipped on his Sith uniform and grabbed a forest green duffel bag. He attached his lightsaber to his hip and pulled on his helmet. Wandering back outside, he stood like a sentinel on the rocky shore waiting for the Scimitar to touch down. Within the womb-like darkness surrounding his head, he sensed his Master, the dark tendrils of his power gathering around Qimir like a heavy cloak.
"Take off your helmet," his Master commanded with an arctic voice.
Qimir removed it and looked up to the full seven-foot height of the being before him.
Darth Plagueis the Muun.
The Master's cadmium orange eyes bored into him and he kept his long flat face and bald head shrouded in a black hooded cloak. His pale, mottled skin reminded Qimir of the underbelly of a dead fish.
"I have a new assignment for you. I want three tiresome extortionists with ties to a Senator I'm currying favor with discretely eliminated on Naboo. Afterward, I need you to escort me for a business negotiation in the outer rim territory."
"Understood, Master Plagueis."
The Muun directed those haunting, glowing eyes that looked like burning embers in a fire over Qimir's head toward his cave high above them. The apprentice waited for his Master to retreat into the large starship first before he took a single step forward, in case there were more instructions.
Plagueis regarded Qimir once more with discerning eyes.
"I detect that you are purposely clouding your mind from me."
The Muun's thin lips quirked up.
"Don't bother doing so, my clever apprentice. I am well aware of the woman you have on this island. I will deal with her on our return. Come, we have much work to do."
Plagueis did a stern about-face and Qimir accompanied him onto the Scimitar, stone-faced and troubled.