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 24: Rules of Submission

On the way to Manaan, the Sith couple decided to do some more lightsaber training in the cargo hold after eating. Juhani and Jolee arrived a bit later and ended up watching the two practicing instead. Soon, Revan proved victorious in the training fight, disarming his apprentice and tackling her to the floor. She graciously admitted defeat and leaned forward to kiss him, caring little about their audience. Juhani's face turned red at the intimate display and she turned away, uncomfortable with such public displays after years of Jedi training, especially when it conflicted with her own preferences.

On the other hand, Jolee sighed. The display triggered various memories decades ago, from before the Exar Kun wars. "How I wish you were still here, Nayama…" he muttered.

Once the Sith couple got back on their feet, Revan couldn't help but remark. "Who was Nayama? Your wife?"

"You really have annoyingly good ears," the old man complained. "I suppose there is no point in denying it… Yes, she was my wife."

"What happened to her?" Bastila wondered.

"Many things…" Jolee replied, sighing. "Do we have to talk about this?"

"You did say we'd talk next time when we sat by that campfire in the Shadowlands," she noted reasonably. "No time like the present."

"I suppose you are just going to nag me until I cough it up, aren't you? Nothing is private anymore…" he grumbled. "There's no escaping it, I guess. We'll have to start from the beginning… I warn you, it's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Naturally," the Sith apprentice replied.

"Alright… It all started back during my adventuring days," Jolee recounted as the couple and Juhani listened. "I wasn't even done with my Jedi training back then, and I had a full head of hair and an eagerness to see absolutely everything. I was never a good Padawan, you see, and the Council was never very happy with willful, brash Jolee Bindo. Even less so when I began my smuggling career…"

"Your smuggling career?" the Cathar repeated, incredulous.

"How did that happen?" Revan asked.

"At the time, the Ukatis system was interdicted by its own king. He preferred to keep his people starving and poor, all the better to oppress them. The Senate was trying to negotiate a peace, but they were getting nowhere… as usual. I decided I wasn't going to wait. I found myself a ship and a partner, and we began smuggling food and supplies to the Ukatis citizenry through the blockade," he explained. "I was a half-decent pilot in those days… and with the Force guiding me, we made it through some tough spots nobody else would have."

"That was kind of you, using the Force for public service," Bastila noted. "How did you manage to afford all the supplies though?"

"Well…" the old man chuckled a bit, "we didn't buy all the equipment, per se. Some were happy to donate goods. Some we just… ah… knew had more than they could use."

"So you stole it?" Juhani summarized, not sure how she felt about the whole idea.

"'Stole' is such a harsh word," Jolee protested. "They would have donated those goods readily enough if they were compassionate. I consider it a tax on the greedy. We only got caught once. A lone Ukatish frigate shot us down and forced a crash landing. I thought the Force had abandoned me, as I remember."

"You must have run into another Force user," Revan deduced.

"Sort of…" the old man replied. "As it happens, getting shot down turned out to be very fortunate. That was the day I met my wife. Upon meeting her, I knew right away she was strong in the Force. That's why she was able to shoot me down. But she wasn't trained, not at all. She didn't even know she was using the Force, and she shot me down. Nayama was a marvel of a woman. Fiery, determined, smart… She dragged me to the capital and foiled three of my attempts to escape prison. Oh, and that body…" He was clearly lost in his memories of the woman he loved.

"How did you two get married?" Bastila asked, trying to get back on track.

"Where was I?" Jolee wondered for a moment. "Ah yes. Needless to say I eventually won her over. That was after I kidnapped her upon being broken out of the Ukatis prison, mind you. One thing led to another, and we married in secret. I am sure you don't need the details. At any rate, I wanted to train her in the Jedi way. The Council refused my request, naturally. I was still a Padawan at the time. I was an experienced Padawan, surely… but not yet ready to be a full Jedi and certainly not to train another, especially one as old as my wife."

"And what did Nayama think of this whole business?" the Dark Lord asked, wondering if the old man, in his eagerness to train his wife, forgot about her wishes.

"She was intrigued by the idea of becoming a Jedi," the old man recounted. "She liked the idea of power too much, perhaps, but I certainly didn't see that at the time. No, I believed in her and trained her in secret. I ignored her willful nature… I loved her too much to see fault in her. And she loved me too. I know she did. At the time, our love was a shared bliss… better than anything I had known before or since."

"So what happened?" the Sith apprentice wondered.

"Exar Kun happened. Nayama was inspired by his promises of a new Golden Age. She wanted to join him. She came to me, pleading with me to throw aside what she called the decrepit trappings of the Jedi… to join her in Exar Kun's war."

"So essentially, she loved power more than you?" Revan inferred.

"I… hadn't thought so," Jolee admitted. "Not right then. I was too proud to believe that of her. I had trained her myself… I loved her. I pleaded with her to reconsider, to think about all that she was throwing away… to think about what she would become. She would have none of it. She accused me of loving the Jedi more than I loved her. Finally, in frustration, she attacked me. She drew her lightsaber and attempted to strike me down. It was a scene being repeated everywhere throughout the galaxy. Pupil against master. In my case... It was a long and terrible battle, but I defeated her."

"And you killed her?" Bastila asked.

The old man took a deep breath. "No… no," he said at last. "I had her at my mercy, disarmed and defenceless. She looked up at me and she knew… she knew I couldn't do it." As he said so, he stared at Bastila, his gaze so intense as to be disturbing.

Why is he looking at me like that? she wondered.

I think, to him, that sounded like what happened on my flagship, when I was unconscious and you stood over me… her Master explained.

Oh, is that what he's thinking? she deduced, upset at the implication. Honestly, the idea never even entered my mind… My only thought then was your continued survival. But how does he even know? Who have we even told?

It should be possible for him to guess just from what we told Matton… Alternatively, he could have had a vision, Revan observed. Either way, this will prove to be very annoying… "I don't think I could have either," he noted out loud for Jolee's benefit, sensing the silence had dragged on for too long.

"But I should have," Jolee insisted, still staring at Bastila. "Sometimes I try to convince myself otherwise… but it's no use. She had fallen to the Dark Side when she raised her saber against me, choosing to turn against the Republic… But no, I let her go. To my great shame, she went on to kill many Jedi during the war and used her skill to shoot down countless Republic pilots…"

"What happened to her in the end?" Bastila wondered, hoping to deflect his attention from herself. "You told me love saves people. Did it save her in the end?"

"No…" the old man replied, sounding heartbroken. "She fought to the bitter end with Exar Kun, dying in the final battle… I grieved for her death, inevitable as it was, even as the Jedi Council put me on trial for my actions once the war was over."

"Of course they did…" Revan muttered.

"It shouldn't be a surprise," Jolee noted. "I had trained Nayama against their wishes. I had failed to kill her when I had the chance, and she went on to kill others. Not to mention that I had remained a Padawan throughout the war. A formality, perhaps, but with the trial it had to be decided if I was worthy to become a Jedi at all… It was a travesty, of course. That was when the Order left me…"

"Because they found you guilty?" Juhani guessed.

"Not at all," the old man countered. "They found me innocent. Even though I… deserved every punishment and more… they let me go. Mitigating circumstances, they say. I deserved compassion, they said. They said I had learned wisdom the hard way. For all I had done during the war, they wished to raise me to full Jedi status at long last. That… that was when the Jedi left me. That was when they failed me."

"Surprisingly, I can actually see why they might do that," the Dark Lord admitted. "It's just like why a smart boss shouldn't fire an employee for making a massive mistake that cost the company a million credits—they effectively just spent a million credits training someone to never do that again."

"But where's the justice in that? They are effectively rewarding me for my pride, my cowardice. Are those acts befitting the Jedi?" Jolee questioned. "No, I failed the Republic, I failed the Jedi. Countless people died. For an order that claims to stand for justice, the Jedi are terrible at delivering it." He sighed. "While they may have been able to forgive me, I could never forgive myself."

I think he's too fixated on his own guilt instead of seeing the bigger picture. Nayama was only one of the many who chose to fight for Exar Kun, the Sith Lord observed. The war would have lasted just as long without her.

I sort of understand it though… Bastila noted. I struggle with guilt myself, but at least my Master always punishes me to make it go away.

"So then, why do you believe in love's redeeming powers so strongly, when it didn't work out for you and Nayama?" Revan asked at last.

"Because it was possible to save Nayama," the old man insisted. "I couldn't figure out how, and then it was too late. Nevertheless, I still believe there was a chance to save her, to save the Republic so much harm. Does that surprise you? Hopefully, it won't be too late for you." He sighed again. "Ahhh... it was so long ago. Lost in the winds, I suppose. Nobody cares what an old man believes anymore, do they? I am tired…" With that, the old man left the cargo hold.

Seeing his departure, Juhani sighed and returned to her dorm, knowing that she had little chance of getting any practice that night.

"I honestly felt bad for Jolee," Bastila confessed to her Master, now that they were alone in the cargo hold. "His wife betrayed him to fight on the opposing side, using all he had taught her against him…"

"That… was too close to us for comfort," he admitted, thinking back to the years they had been on opposite sides of a war. "We are lucky that it worked out for us. It's unfortunate that it turned out that way for them... Some couples are not meant to be, I guess."

"I suppose," she agreed, "though I can't deny the parallels. Still, it's bothering me… Why is he so intent to tie his inability to kill his wife to what happened on your flagship? We didn't fight each other… I would never have harmed you, and you would never have harmed me."

"Perhaps he just sees the parallels?" he wondered. "I hope that's it, because the alternative is that he genuinely thinks you should have killed me…"

"But why?" she questioned. "He doesn't even like the Jedi…"

"I don't know… but have you noticed that he's never said a single disparaging thing about the Republic though?" he observed.

"So he thinks I should have killed you to save the Republic?" she deduced. "It really makes me wonder what his motivation for joining us is…"

"We don't know enough. It could be something innocent, but we must be on our guard," he decided. "I also don't know what he's trying to do, hinting at our 'salvation.' We'll need to probe him more and better understand his intentions. Doing anything rash will only make him more unpredictable…"

"I know…" she agreed, sighing. Just thinking about how many complications this added to their mission made her upset. "I suppose we should warn the others to be careful what they say around Jolee…"

"Let's split up and do that," he agreed.

And so Bastila headed out, offering to practice lightsaber combat with Juhani, sharing her suspicions in the process. Meanwhile, Revan walked around the ship, joining Mission, Zaalbar, and T3-M4, who were working on a new slicing tool. He offered them some tips, while also sharing his suspicions. Next, he checked up on Canderous, who was still reflecting over Jagi's death. The Mandalorian also promised to keep an eye on the old man.


Meeting back in the master bedroom, the Sith couple cuddled, trying to forget the potential risks their mission now faced. With the fate of the galaxy hanging in the balance, that wasn't an easy task.

"Now that we've retired to our bedroom, Master, we should put it to good use," Bastila suggested unashamedly, hoping to distract themselves further.

"Yes, we will," he replied, correctly guessing her question. "But first, I think we should talk."

"Master?" the willing slave girl said uncertainly, suddenly alarmed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Not really," he reassured her. "I just think that we should probably talk about your… desires."

"Am I being too pushy, Master?" she guessed weakly.

"No, I just think we should have a talk about exactly what you want, since we haven't really talked about this in a long time. I know you wanted to try things we haven't done before, but you don't feel like asking because it goes against your role. At the same time, I also don't want to go beyond your comfort zone, especially when I feel out of practice for years."

"Yes, Master," the submissive replied immediately. "I am sorry, Master, for assuming you knew what I wanted."

"Apologies accepted. Yes, I am mostly aware of what you want, but I want to hear you say it explicitly so there is no uncertainty or confusion. Still, in the future, you should speak up."

"Yes, Master," she agreed.

"So, Bastila, tell me about how you want to be treated," he ordered. "It doesn't necessarily have to be stuff we can do right now. Remember, our mission comes first, but we will do what we can."

"I want to be naked and in chains when I am alone or it's just the two of us," she confessed. The thought of being completely exposed and vulnerable to the man she loved—combined with the knowledge that she could not escape that much desired fate—was so hot in her mind.

"How do you want to be chained?" the dom asked. "Be specific."

"I want to wear my collar, of course, with a durasteel leash so you can drag me anywhere you want. I want durasteel rings installed around my wrists and ankles, which you can use to restrain me any way you wish. When I am not chained to something, I want you to chain my feet together so I will never be able to run away, but I should still be able to walk. Same for my wrists, I want to be able to do useful work, but I should also have a constant reminder that I can't move my hands freely. And I want a chain hanging down from my collar, in front of me, to hold up my ankle chains," Bastila described vividly, projecting the image in their minds through the Force bond they shared.

"I am sure that can be arranged on the Star Forge," Revan said confidently. "I believe we can even make it perfectly fitted so that it doesn't hurt at all. Anything else?"

"I want you to order me around. It doesn't matter what, I just enjoy obeying you. You can order me to do anything, whether it's serious work, pleasuring you, or simply kneeling in a corner," she said, smiling at the thought. "Being your slave though, you should feel empowered to 'take advantage' of me sexually. I wish to be your property, your very own sex slave, so you should feel free to use me whenever you want, wherever you want. I trust you and won't complain."

"So essentially, I should order you to do anything I want you to do, no matter how big or small. And you give me consent upfront to have sex with you anytime and anywhere?" he summarized.

"Exactly! I enjoy surrendering control over my body to the one I love," she confirmed. "It makes me feel owned. I trust you to use your judgement though."

"Of course I will," he agreed. "I wouldn't put either of us at risk of physical harm or reputational damage. I always take good care of my 'property,' after all."

"That's very sweet of you," she replied with a smile. "And… I want to feel like I have no rights and deserve nothing. That everything I get to have requires your permission and can be taken away at any time."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I want to have to ask for permission for things people take for granted. Like, sleeping in a bed, for example."

"So, you want to default to being treated badly, and need my permission to get the normal treatment. Like, if I don't give you permission, you have to sleep on the floor?"

"Yes, Master, things like that…"

"Don't expect me to say no often, at least for sleeping," he noted. "I certainly am not inclined to punish myself by sleeping alone."

"Of course, I just want to have to ask," she agreed. "Also, as your slave, my body isn't mine anymore, so I should need permission to touch myself or orgasm…" she added, blushing a little as she did so. It was rather endearing, really.

"Okay, got it. How about this? Except in case of emergencies, you must also ask for permission to wear clothes, even if you are to appear in public?"

"I would like that, Master," the willing slave girl admitted. "I also want to be in subservient positions too. Kneeling and crawling. Unless you give me permission to stand and walk."

"Okay. Anything else, Bastila?"

"I want you to call me degrading names when I am being used for sex."

"What sort of names are you looking for?" her Master asked.

Her face turned red. The idea was humiliating, even though that was why she wanted it. She replied in a small voice, "Slut, whore, and bitch." These names would keep her in the right headspace for that sort of play, even though she would never dream of sex with anyone other than her Master.

"Will do. What about at other times? Do you want me to call you 'Bastila'? Or something cute? Like honey, love, or dear?"

"Yes, those cute names would be nice for when we might be overhead. Maybe 'good girl' too, when I do a good job. When we are alone, I think I would prefer 'slave' because that's what I am. In public, or when we try to get work done, I think you should call me 'Bastila.'"

"Sounds good. Anything else you want to tell me?"

"I always wanted to be like one of those obedient slave girls in stories that can cum on command…" she confessed, trying hard to avoid falling into the fantasy.

"I see… I always wanted to see how that would work," he admitted. "We can figure this out together. Anything else?"

"I enjoy pain during play, up to a certain point. Things like having my hair pulled, my body parts pinched or clamped, or getting spanked… As long as it's not too much pain, like being hit with a training saber repeatedly," she stated, remembering her punishment as they left Taris. "Things like that are more suited for punishments."

"Well, I don't think I know where exactly the line is," he noted. "I guess we'll have to find out?"

"Yes," she concurred. "I don't think I know where it is either. We can experiment, and I promise to use my safeword if it becomes too much."

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed. "Do you always want me to treat you like property though? Or do you want to cuddle, make out, and do other 'vanilla' things?"

Bastila thought for a few moments. "I think I would enjoy the vanilla stuff as well, as long as we don't overdo it. Maybe as rewards or aftercare…?" she proposed. "You can always order me to do it whenever you feel like it too…"

"Naturally," he agreed. "Is there anything else you'd like?"

She pondered a bit more. "I think that's all I can think of for now," she said at last.

"Well, you can always let me know if you have anything else you want," he decided. "Now that we've established what you want… how do you want the rules to be enforced?"

"Through corporal punishment?" she suggested. "For small infractions, maybe a quick slap in the face, or pinching my nipples? I want you to train me to follow your orders without hesitation."

"You are asking me… to change you," he noted cautiously. "I get the appeal, but there could be downsides. I do make mistakes, and I want you to speak up when I make them. You will also be fighting in battles, and when you do, my orders will only ever be guidelines. You must react to the situation accordingly, as no one knows it better than you do."

"I understand your concern," she replied, completely serious now. "I don't want you to destroy my mind. I may be your slave, but I am also a Sith. I enjoy being intelligent and competent, just like your ideal Sith. What I really meant is that in the safety of our home, I want to follow your orders regarding our play without hesitation, and nothing more. I will always be available if you need me for non-entertainment purposes."

"I suppose that would be fine," he acquiesced.

"I promise I won't be mad if we find that some of my fantasies don't end up working in real life," she added, "even if it's the stuff I dreamed of for years. I know you care about me and wouldn't want to disappoint me, but it's okay if things don't work out. The dom can use the safeword too, if things have gone too far."

"You are right, of course. It's something too often forgotten though. I do wish BDSM literature talked about this aspect more. Most of the focus is on the sub's feelings, probably because if the sub is not willing, then it becomes abuse."

"Yes, the feelings of both parties matter, since it takes two to make a relationship work," she summarized. "Being a dom gives you a lot of control, a lot of power, but being a good dom means you have to take a lot of responsibility as well, and sometimes, that's too much. I understand. One of the reasons I enjoy submission is not having to be responsible."

"I am glad we are on the same page then. While we are thinking about the practicalities, how do you want our relationship to be outside of play?" he asked.

"I think I want our power dynamic to continue," she replied. "Even when not playing, I still think of myself as your slave. I want to wear your collar, even if I have to hide it. Anything you need done, you can order me to do it." She thought back to the past weeks on their mission together. Even as she battled, she still felt like he was in charge and she was obeying his orders to slay their enemies.

"That's fine," he decided. "Do you have any goals outside of submitting though? Like, any life goals?"

"I think ultimately, in addition to being your slave, I want to also be your partner, your advisor, your best friend, and your confidante. I want us to build a wonderful life together," she decided. "While I prefer being less than you in status, I want to be your equal in skill and ability so I can better help you achieve your goals."

"I would love that," he agreed.

"I am also your Sith apprentice," she added. "I definitely want my training to continue. I want to master the Force in all its glory, and I owe to both myself and my Master to succeed. I want to fight by your side in all battles. I definitely don't want to be one of those girls waiting for her beloved to come back from war. I've had enough of that to last a lifetime."

"Understood. Do you want a job or something, once we take back the Sith?" he asked.

"I don't think I want a job in the traditional sense," she decided after some thought. "I want to spend my time with you, but it's also a huge waste of my talents if I did nothing else. Perhaps… I could be your full-time slave, but you can order me to help you rule your empire or something… This way, you can delegate any task you want to me instead of shouldering the whole burden by yourself. I get to be useful, yet I can be with you as much as possible."

"I like this idea… I am sure a talented slave girl like you will have no shortage of things to do. I can certainly use the help."

"And I am very happy to offer it," she declared.

"Anything else?" he asked. Seeing her shake her head, he continued, "Now, for the most important part. What are your limits, Bastila?"

"I don't think my limits have changed since the pre-war days… I think I will keep my hard limits at scat, maiming, or other activities that have a very high likelihood to cause permanent bodily harm," she answered. After some reflection, she continued, "Oh, and no sex outside of our relationship. Other than that, I don't think I will set any other hard limits."

"Sounds pretty reasonable," he agreed. "What about soft limits, things you don't like but are willing to experiment under the right circumstances?"

She paused, thinking for a moment. "I think I am more adventurous than you are, at least sexually. Anything you can come up with, I can probably handle. So I won't set any soft limits. In any case, we should negotiate the harder scenes that would go near any potential limit beforehand, and I can always safeword if it really becomes a problem."

"That makes a great deal of sense," he nodded. "These limits sound good to me. Remember that we can rediscuss these rules anytime."

"Of course, Master."

"Now, let's make sure you don't forget your safe word. Say it."

"RuBisCO," she said without hesitation.

"Good." He smiled. "Would I be wrong to assume you want to start as soon as possible?"

She shook her head.

Immediately, Revan's demeanour changed. "Well, why are you dressed, slave?" he asked with a glare. "Since when did I give you permission to wear anything except my collar?"

"I'm sorry! I know I have no right," she said, scrambling to get her Jedi robes and underwear removed at the same time. When she was done, she threw them into a corner and knelt in front of him, with her hands on her knees and her legs spread open. "Would you ever forgive me, Master?" she said, looking down at the floor.

"Look at me, slut," he ordered.

She immediately complied.

"Since you rectified your mistake so efficiently, you are forgiven," he said more gently. "And in the future, don't look down meekly when I am in front of you, unless you are being punished. Look at me instead. Your eyes are too beautiful to be facing the ground."

"Thank you, Master!" He could sense her pride at his compliment.

"For the rest of the day, you will refer to yourself in the third person with degrading names only," he declared. "Be creative."

"Yes, Master!" she replied. "This worthless slave understands. What does Master want it to do?" Internally, she found the idea of referring to herself in the third person with inanimate pronouns a massive turn on, putting her straight into the submissive headspace, which of course was his intention all along.

"Undress me and pleasure me," he ordered. "If you do a good job, you'll be well-rewarded."

Bastila complied immediately with a cry of "Yes, Master!" She took her time, however, teasing him and getting him ready. She regretted that their means were rather limited, and she was not restrained in the way she wanted, but she carried out her "duty" nonetheless…

Hours later, the couple laid in bed, holding each other as they slept. Bastila found it somewhat regrettable that she never got a chance to ask for permission to sleep in a bed, but she supposed being pulled into the bed by her Master and taken possessively was just as good. A feeling of satisfaction and contentment radiated throughout the Ebon Hawk.