AN: Obligatory reminder, slavery in Essos is consistently depicted in a way that makes the worst IRL excesses in that regard often look tame in comparison.

Disclaimer: I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire, the Game of Throne or the Star Wars books, TV series or games. They belong to their creators, publishers and/or copyright owners. This story is not for sale or rent.

Chapter 8 Part 3

=Sith=

291 AC

Astapor

There was magic in Valyrian steel, especially when reforged into a weapon. Compared to the sword in his hands, any trinket made of the metal he had handled to date felt positively mundane. At the same time, the naked blade before him was simply lacking. Viserys simply knew it in his bones.

Nevertheless, the sword was better than any regular metal had the right to be. If Viserys didn't know better, he would consider it having a monomolecular edge, able to easily slice through all but the best armor. He could compare it well with vibroblades and heatswords. The Sith Warblade he used until he earned himself the right to wield a lightsaber was in some ways inferior in practice, but that was almost certainly the kind of high-end armor he encountered often enough in his youth. After all, there were armors able to resist lightsabers and military-grade blasters. Those were a far cry from the best protection a smith might forge here on Planetos.

From the few tests Viserys ran, his Valyrian Steel sword could even cut through a good plate with repeated strikes – something that would have been impossible for a regular sword.

Dany ceased peeling an orange and glanced at the sword her brother was absorbed in.

"For weeks now, you keep staring at that each evening as if you expect it to talk back," she chided.

"The metal is magical. It will retain a peerless edge, or at least should. Yet, this is no proper Valyrian Steel sword," Viserys repeated.

"I still can't sense whatever you are feeling, Visy. The magic is there; I can tell from here by looking at it. It makes my blood warm and fuzzy," Dany tore a piece of her orange. She began to chew it slowly, glowing happily at its taste. "But that's all. I've held your new sword; it's nice and all, but I can't tell if there's something wrong with it as a weapon, much less a magical sword."

Through the Force and the magic bubbling in his blood, Viserys could feel the energies contained in his weapon. They felt off, misaligned, and incomplete, or at least that was the best way he could put it into words. It was more of a feeling and a sense that things were off than certain knowledge.

He sighed, sheathed the sword, and put it on the table. Viserys summoned a cup with grapes and levitated one into his mouth. Dany pouted at him, for she had yet to master such deft displays of telekinetic control. Viserys knew that if he pushed harder with training his sister to use the Dark Side, she would progress faster. That way lay madness, especially when dealing with a young, hormonal teenager.

At any rate, Dany was advancing faster than any Jedi Padawan could hope to, and it was only her young age that held her back. Viserys suspected that his little sister would always be petite, requiring her to lean heavily on the Force for any feats of strength. Instead, he had his hands full in tailoring her training to focus on speed and agility, which suited her body type.

"Haven't you found anything useful on Valyrian magic in the libraries you looted?" Dany asked after she finished with her orange. "Even if the ancient Force we have is what you can teach me for sure, I would love to learn different magic as well. It's in our blood, you know?" she waved a hand in an uneasy gesture.

Whatever happened when they were sailing past Valyria awoke something within the two of them, making them earn for more… whatever that more was. Perhaps it was knowledge of Valyrian blood magic. Or, like Dany liked to say, their wings. Maybe it was both.

"I am unsure if we can find answers before we are ready to explore the ruins of Old Valyria," Viserys pointed out.

Dany's expression fell at that, and her Force signature dulled in dejection. "And we won't be ready for years, and then we have to be able to leave everything without supervision for months on end…" she grumbled.

"Even with all the power at our fingertips, we won't always get what we want. The Force and the universe as a whole always get to vote, remember this Little Dragon. Accept this truth; otherwise, it will keep pricking at you, pushing you to grasp for more of the Dark Side than you can handle. The Force is ours to command and wield, not the other way around," Viserys lectured.

"I will have to keep trading control and even my sanity for power for the next few years, at the very least. I don't like it. It's great at the moment, but I even attacked you without thinking, Visy! I don't want to fight you for real, much less when I'm not in control!"

"The slow path is not an option for us, I am sad to say, Dany. I've explained to you how it works. We simply have too many enemies and not enough time, and we will have even more people after us in the future. Besides, going any faster with your training will only make it worse."

"I don't have to like it!"

"You are still just two and ten, sister. It is your right not to like your lessons."

=Sith=

The following day, Daenerys faced off against Ser Richard. Practice swords struck each other with the sound of wood slamming into wood. Dany kept drawing on the force to strengthen her limbs and make herself faster and more agile. The knight wore a chain and plate that didn't seem to slow him down. Without the Force, Dany knew she would have lost within moments. Instead, she kept parrying and deflecting deadly strikes, often using their momentum to deftly reposition and counter-attack. Lonmouth dodged or left her sword to skip off the plate parts of his armor, which would be immune to any blade that wasn't Valyrian Steel. Regular swords couldn't slice through his chainmail, so anything but a solid thrust was something he could ignore.

"You've been training her for less than a year?" the Red Viper observed.

For Oberyn, this was the first time he saw Princess Daenerys train with weapons. However, he got a glimpse or two of her levitating objects with magic. He had seen nothing like that before and could appreciate how practical such use of magic could be. When Daenerys grew more proficient with it, she should be able to brain someone with a piece of debris lying around without lifting a finger. Oh, if only Elia could do something like that…. Then it wouldn't have mattered how sickly his sister was; she might have been able to walk away from the Sack of King's Landing.

"You weren't really here just now," Prince Viserys' words focused Oberyn's mind.

"Just wishful thinking, Your Grace," the Dornish Prince admitted.

"My goodsister and the children?"

"If Elia could do this…" Oberyn trailed off and shook his head. Or if he had been there, in King's Landing, when his sister needed him. Or if Rhaegar hadn't been a fool… Or Aerys Mad…, there were too many what-ifs.

"Vengeance is best served cold, especially if you have a way to properly warm it up," Viserys shared.

"Is that some obscure Valyrian wisdom I haven't heard concerning dragon fire?"

"That too," Viserys lips twitched in a hint of a smile. "To answer your earlier question, I began training Dany properly on the voyage here from Pentos, and that was just light knife work and physical conditioning. I started her on proper training with the ancient magic that awoke in us after securing Astapor."

"Can you teach others?" the Red Viper inquired. Like his daughters.

"You need to have this kind of magic awakened in you; otherwise, there is nothing to teach. We are living proof that it can be done, but I have no idea what rituals our ancestors used to make it possible. I can tell you what to do, how to do it, and demonstrate, but without the magic in you to use, it is a waste of time."

"That's unfortunate," Oberyn allowed. He had no idea if Viserys was telling him the truth. At any rate, Oberyn would keep his eyes open and do his best to replicate what the last Targaryens were doing. He should have nothing to lose but a bit of time if Viserys was right, and he would have ample time on the voyage back to Sunspear.

"We will be leaving tonight with the tide. We stayed long enough already," Oberyn said. "Have you thought about my offers, Your Grace?"

"I won't turn back any honest Dornish merchants. Any of your people willing to work in Astapor will be welcome as long as they follow my laws. There will be no betrothals. For your people's sake, I hope that when we return to Westeros, we won't find them on the opposite side of the battlefield."

By now, it was painfully clear that Viserys was unconcerned by the prospect of facing Dornish spears. That should have been hubris, yet… the young man didn't intend to return without an army that could conquer the Seven Kingdoms. If he could muster such a host, the Dornish military would make little difference outside of Dorne. Things would undoubtedly have been different if Viserys hadn't been a Sorcerer training his sister to be his match. But in that case, they wouldn't be having this conversation anyway.

"I can't and won't speak for my brother, Prince Viserys. However, when you come for the Lannisters and Baratheons thirsting for vengeance, you will have my spear by your side," The Red Viper decided. He hoped that Doran would act and give Dorne the revenge it hungered for, but if not, he would have his pound of flesh fighting beside this Sorcerer-Prince.

"We have an understanding then. I can sense your determination and rage, Prince Oberyn. It matches my own," Viserys offered him a genuine smile. "I wish you a fortune in the wars to come."

"You are already making your own fortune for the coming wars, aren't you?" The Red Viper laughed merrily. "The same to you, Young Dragon. When you come for Westeros, many in Dorne will wish you fortune, no matter what my brother decides."

=Sith=

Chapter 8 Part 4

=Sith=

291 AC

in the vicinity of Astapor

After taking the city, Viserys seldom left Astapor. Most of those trips didn't carry him far beyond the wall. They concluded on pleasure barges sailing the Worm River, where one of his supporters invited him and Dany to entertain them or in inspections of the area around the city so he could better plan its defense.

Today, it was the river, its bridges, and crossings that brought the Prince away from Astapor. The Worm was a slow and meandering river, wide and deep enough for barges to go far to the east, bringing goods from small settlements and mines in the mountains. Wooden islands dotted the riverbed, making for nice secluded meeting places or covert observation posts.

Viserys' first instinct was to fortify or destroy the nearby bridges to make the Worm a better shield against Dothraki and other possible invaders. A glance at one of the best available maps told him that holding three large stone bridges and destroying half a dozen smaller ones would, in theory, secure the river for hundreds of leagues.

In practice, Viserys was glad he decided to ride up the Worm and see it for himself beyond what he observed from his supporters' barges. Fortifying the large bridges was a project worth the expenses and manpower. Holding those would significantly increase Astapor's security. The mountains to the south and the ruins of Old Ghis beyond them provided a shield from Dothraki and New Ghis. Lookouts in the few viable passes and relatively small detachments of Unsullied would be able to keep that flank secure nearly indefinitely.

An invader would have to march from the north or land in the plains and hills to the southwest, with the sea and distant mountains trapping them for Viserys to deal with at his leisure. Arguably, the best ways to assault Astapor were from the sea, by seizing the harbor, or from the south side of the river, which offered a nice plain for a besieging force to deploy and dig in. Control of a few bridges or crossings would secure the enemy's logistics and provide a way for them to retreat in good order if necessary. Anyone assaulting from the north, even if they could take the bridge first, would be stuck between the walls and the river and have only a single choke-point to move through or flee.

The many wooden islands dotted all over the Worm made the river a questionable defense. Most of the smaller and two of the large stone bridges used such islands as anchor points. Those could be fortified, making a crossing there that much harder, if not impossible. However, there were simply too many other islands that anchored shallow parts of the river, creating crossings that could be forded by determined infantry or cavalry.

Viserys didn't have the industry or manpower to do something constructive about those. His best bet to prevent a fording in such locations was a rapid mobile force able to turn such attempts into bloodbaths before disengaging. He needed cavalry, mounted archers, and dragoons.

Viserys lacked enough horses for such an initiative, much less the trained cavalrymen.

"I've seen enough," the Sith grouched. "We will be building a series of lookout and messenger towers to warn us in case of a hostile force trying to cross the river. We will also fortify and defend the two large bridges closest to Astapor," Viserys decided. They would have to face any invading army at the city's walls for the foreseeable future. In the long term, he might have the tools and military to keep prospective enemies at bay, but that would be years from now.

Fortunately, he wasn't facing a modern military because giving them this kind of operational initiative would be pure madness. To an extent, that was the case now as well – Viserys simply lacked the assets to credibly defend the outlying settlements technically under Astapor's aegis. This wasn't infantry's game. He needed a lot of reliable cavalry backing infantry detachments stationed at every settlement to protect them. The logistics alone made such things infeasible, not to mention the price. Stationing credible defenses at the outlying towns and villages would turn them all into a net drain on Astapor's resources. Enemies would have to be destroyed in the field before they could ravage the countryside, paid off, or the settlements would be forfeited.

"Do any of you have a plausible idea on how we can protect the towns and villages beyond the city walls?" Viserys asked the Royal Guards riding beside him.

"Destroy the enemy before they can reach them," Lonmouth suggested. "We'll need cavalry for that. Stationing forces to deal with small-scale raids might be a good idea if we are at war. Otherwise, we either abandon them to their fate or evacuate their people behind the walls."

"Most mercenaries tend to camp in such places and demand tribute instead of burning them down," another former Pit Fighter, not turned Royal Guard, pointed out.

"I don't think that anyone moving against us will be so gracious," Viserys noted. "But any slavers coming for us might be more interested in dealing with Astapor and what it now represents instead of ravaging the countryside. We'll station messengers in some of the outlying settlements to warn us of Dothraki or other undesirables coming down the river from the East. We should have evacuation plans, though they might be useless if a cavalry heavy force attacks."

Most people would have to move on foot or carts, and that would be slow. In case of war, evacuation of anything but the closest settlements might be a pipe dream.

Viserys turned his horse around and had it trot towards Astapor. He didn't like the situation and hand and liked even less that he could do little to change it anytime soon.

=Sith=

291 AC
Balerys Iron mines
the Ghiscari Mountains

The second time Viserys left Astapor for more than a few days was to inspect the closest mines to the city. A few were less than a sennight of riding through a rough terrain. The travel time to Yunkai was roughly the same, though the distance between the city and the mines was far smaller.

On the way there, it became clear that utilizing water power to enhance mining productivity was out of the question, at least in this area. A couple of small streams provided fresh water to the mines before sneaking their way to the Worm River. However, they were too tiny to even hope to power a waterwheel, so that was out of the question.

The mines themselves… Viserys had seen primitive mines in his time as a Sith in locations where shipping in expendable slaves was far cheaper than using droids. That was often because the security situation meant no credible manufacturer would provide long-term maintenance contracts, and high-end industrial droids were expensive. Depending on what you wanted to mine, there were locations where it was cheaper to fly in slaves in bulk, have them die from hard labor in dangerous conditions, rinse, repeat, pay for basic security, and still come out ahead.

The mines here made all those death traps Viserys remembered look like resorts. As it turned out, his worst estimates about what he would find here were nowhere close to the truth. If a Sith designed this place to dispose of people in cruel and unusual ways through heavy labor, then the setup would have made a twisted sense. Instead… sheer incompetence and slaves being cheap couldn't explain this, surely?

The mine was a massive open pit with steep walls that people crawled all over. A row of crosses with people nailed or roped to them surrounded the mine, so the slaves down there had a great and constant view of the dying wretches. Five of the unlucky bastards lost their grips on jagged rocks and fell to their deaths while Viserys party approached. A closer look explained it – most miners were little more than skin and bones. They haven't been fed properly in ages.

This explained why the Dark Side was strong in this place. The more Viserys saw of the mine, the clearer it became that he lacked the assets to turn this place into something productive that didn't devour people by the trainload. Hells, the distance through rough terrain meant that supplying the place with enough food and water, much less bringing out the mined ores, would be a logistical challenge.

The way to go forward might be to keep the place open as a small-scale operation, with the bare minimum of people that could be supported while still making a profit. Viserys certainly didn't have the people to waste on this kind of idiocy… and it was clear no one here had gotten the memo that slavery in Astapor was no longer a thing. Or the local slave masters didn't care because this wasn't Astapor. Technically anyway.

An hour later, Viserys has his people crucify the slavers and their guards while wondering what to do with the liberated slaves. Most of them were in such a condition they wouldn't make it without the kind of support that was out of the question this far from Astapor. Those people were in no shape to get to the city by themselves. Only the newest two batches of slaves haven't been worked to the bone yet and might be salvageable.

"Gather all the available food and water. Those of you who believe they might make it back to Astapor, move behind me," Viserys' voice carried all over the open mine. "The only thing I can do for the rest of you is grant you a quick, clean death."

Once upon a time, seeing hundreds of wretches grateful at the prospect of dying, for the pain would finally go away, would have been upsetting. The only thing that really bothered Viserys was the sheer idiotic waste.

When everyone willing to live gathered behind him, the Sith raised a hand, and the Dark Side jumped at his intent. Viserys focused, bending the Force to his will. Tendrils of twisted Force lashed out, touching the wretches and draining what little life force they had left. As soon as the Dark Side energies touched them, they siphoned away the last drops of life from the miners. One after another, they collapsed, dead.

Doing the same to a similarly large group of hale people would have taken significantly more time and power. However, these former slaves were on their last legs, wishing for the sweet release of death.