Dumb Kriffing Luck (Ongoing Story)

On board the Avenger, still in orbit of Nar Shaddaa, Darth Ragious stood looking down at the stasis coffin containing his wife's body. He had spent two tireless days scouring medical facilities on the planet below to find her. He hadn't slept, he hadn't stopped to eat, he refused to even take communications. When he finally found her, the urge to tear the facility down had been so strong, but he had subdued it within him, and simply made a donation to the clinic contained. The poor people there had been through enough and did not need a Sith furthering their suffering.

The wound his wife had sustained had been repaired, expertly. She could have been sleeping, and as much as Ragious would hope for that, he was a realist. His wife was dead. Killed by a woman he could not deny that he had been so tempted to leave Kiabe for. He held a hand on the forcefield maintaining the body in stasis, then turned and left it, the only object in one of the Avenger's massive cargo holds, an honor guard of his most loyal shock troopers stationed to keep vigil on Kiabe's body until she could be returned to Dromund Kaas for a proper farewell.

Returning to his quarters, he stripped off all of his armor, and returned to the simple black tunic he had worn so often when Aittera and he were together. He stepped into view of the holocommunicator and activated it, sending the message out on all frequencies, but having learned enough from both her and from his technicians to mask the point of origin. He was almost unrecognizable, he truly was Kol Arren in this moment, from his posture, to the way his face seemed much more worn.

“I know everything. What I don't know is minutiae that doesn't matter. All that matters is that I need you to return. I need you. If you're worried what they might do, I swear to you that you are protected.”

Dumb Kriffing Luck (Ongoing Story)

Aittera sneered at the holo-recording when she found it.

I know what you know what I know... If nothing else, this is going to turn him into a laughinstock.

The final promise to not allow any harm was the biggest joke of all. Loving Kol Arren had nearly killed her quite literally when his wife came through her door and put her lightsaber through her gut. At the thought, a hand moved absently atop her shirt over the scar's location.

In the end, allowing him into her life had cost her everything, and now, she couldn't be sure if he was making a public spectacle of himself just to regain that foothold he'd managed or to avenge Kiabe's death.

Well, he's Sith, so probably both.

Dumb Kriffing Luck (Ongoing Story)

Another holorecording.  This one is more focused. It is no longer broadcasting throughout both the Empire and the Republic, instead he has his slicers focusing on non aligned networks.  The image of him has changed again, he is seated in his bedroom on the Avenger, the uniform is visible hanging in the open bureau behind him.  Beside that is the same armor that hung there in the dream they shared.

"I know what you think you want me to do, but you know I can't.  I can never give up searching, even if you think you don't want to be found.  I will go where you direct, I will go alone.  I will fight armies on my own to get to you if that is your wish.  I am Kol Arren, and I am Darth Ragious, and I will find you, I always could.  It doesn't matter that something has happened with my powers preventing me from reaching out to you in the way I used to be able to.  Even if I have to go system by system searching for you, I will.  Come back.  I promise you that I will never allow anyone to harm you."

House Troubles (Ongoing Story)

Ragious went early and alone.  Sitting in one of the booths of a cantina on Nar Shaddaa, he didn't even attempt to guess at who the slicer he'd been referred to was.  He was once again in something to identify him as Sith, but it was a simple outfit, not the full armor he often wore.

Sheridan Zila walked into the cantina a few minutes before the scheduled meeting time, strolling toward the bar without looking in Ragious's direction. She nodded to the bartender, who immediately poured her a drink and slid it over to her. In return, she slid something across to him, and he gave her a short nod before announcing that he was going to take a break. Once he left, Sheridan and Ragious were the only people in the cantina.

Watching her interact with the bartender, Ragious's lips curled into a grin.  He waited for her to make her move over to where he was sitting before he spoke up, "Well, I must say, you aren't at all what I pictured in my head."

Sheridan's longcoat concealed an array of weaponry, the dramatic red halter top and tight pants wrapped around her shapely curves meant to keep attention away from that fact. She picked up her drink and strolled casually toward Ragious's table, her boot heels marking each step with a soft clack on the floor tiles. She slid into the booth across the table from him, smirking at his greeting. "What did you have pictured in your head? A mousy little thing with glasses or someone covered in implants?"

"Possibly a mousy little thing covered with implants.   I like this much better."  He kept his hands on the table, doing his best lately to not be threatening, to not even appear as such. He wasn't going to give her an opportunity to find some fault in his action.

Sheridan noted his posture as she grinned back, taking a sip of her whisky before responding coolly. "So, you're the big, scary Darth Ragious. I thought you'd be...no, you're just what I expected," she chuckled good-naturedly. "I have to say I have been looking forward to meeting you."

"Really?  You've been looking forward to meeting me?"  He grinned across the table at her, "Probably not for the reason I want but I'll take it nonetheless."

"Let's see how I do, shall we?" she ventured with that air of someone who likes a good challenge. "I knew you were handsome, powerful, and from your war record, you have a pair of durasteel balls. I didn't need to meet you to know any of that. I wanted to meet the man who could make a certain redhead -that- willing to risk everything to be with someone who stands for so much that goes against who she is. I figured there was something I wasn't seeing.

"I mean...you could argue that people will do anything for love - and I couldn't very well argue back, given what I've seen - but not this particular woman. She's got a backbone made of that same durasteel your balls are. Hell, she even scared me a little, and no one scares me - not even you."

"You did your research obviously.  Was that what she hired you for I wonder?"  He looked across the table at her, his smile still quite charming even if it was showing some wear these days.

"Aittera wasn't the only one taking risks, her very presence on the Avenger was a risk for both of us.  As to that way she scares you? It's part of why I love her."

"Why don't we start with what you'd like to know, and then, we can negotiate a price."

"Ultimately I want to know where Aittera is.  Kelri said you did some work for her. I know she is out there, because she sent a  message after one of my holobroadcasts but my people failed to trace it."

Sheridan nodded in response, setting her glass down on the table, her deep brown eyes never leaving him. "Yes, I saw that. Decrypting the source would take months. There's no way she did that herself."

"So who is doing it for her?"

"That's a damn good question. If you find him, would you give him my contact protocol?" She winked. "In the meantime, I can tell you - and only you, by the way - what she paid me to do before she left, as well as give you a copy of the files she paid me to get."

"She knew I would come to you then.  That is what you are telling me?"

Sheridan nodded, and though her expression and demeanor remained laid back and confident, her eyes took on a more serious light. "Did you ever know her not to be at least two steps ahead of you?"

"The very first time we met.  I had the advantage that time."  He didn't linger on it,  quickly moving on "What did she hire you for?"

"Price first. She said to make sure you make this worth my while," she grinned playfully.

"There are several ways I could take you know."  The grin he returned to her was just as playful.  "I have a feeling you know what you want already though."

"Smart man," she chuckled. "There's an algorithm that's used to produce access codes for security clearance to sensitive data. It changes periodically, but the base formula generally stays the same. I'd like to get my hand on the one used for a specific Imperial database. Just so we're clear, this has nothing to do with the war, and I'm not working for the Republic. This is for my own personal use."

Ragious leaned back in the booth and whistled.  "That is something that I can't just hand over lightly.  At least I would need to know more about what you are going to use it to go after."

"Information is power, and in my business, power is credits. I have a way to dig up information from Republic and Hutt sources, but something Imperial would give me the hat trick."

He seemed to consider her request, taking several drinks from the glass of water he had in front of him.  "I can't provide direct access to that information..."  He began to hold up a hand to stop any protest as he continued, "I can however tell you of an automated relay station that someone of your skill could easily access.  You will be able to gain what you seek there."

She grinned, nodding satisfaction. "That will do. Just remember that if this is a wild goose chase, I'll make sure to take payment in a way you may not like. I'm damned good at what I do."

"You have my personal guarantee, if what you seek is not gained from that location I will deliver you my personal access codes to the Imperial holonet."

"You have a deal." She reached into a pocket and withdrew a datapad that she slid across the table. "Just enter the information about the relay station there, and I will tell you everything."

He took the datapad, and entered the location and best approach for breaching the station undetected.  He also entered the times it had been observed to be unoccupied.  He slid it back over to her with a grin.

She took the datapad back, secreting it away in her coat before producing a portable holoterminal that she placed on the table between them. She activated the display as she spoke. "I'm sure you know about the warrant that SIS released. An old associate of Aittera's gave her a heads-up about it, and that's when she contacted me. I'd worked for her in the past, so she trusted me - well, as much as she trusted anyone.

"I tracked down the issue order for the warrant itself and the evidence it was based on." The holoterminal displayed the security footage from the Avenger. "When we first saw this, we thought it came from someone undercover who had managed to secure a spot on your staff somehow. This was placed in an SIS dead drop used for compiling and relaying data collected in the field."

"I won't say that it is impossible that my staff was infiltrated but it is at least improbable.  I hand picked all of the officers, and I always controlled the non military personnel on my flagship."  Still the idea that the SIS had eyes on his ship, even just security footage unnerved him.

"That uniform was for her protection.  It made sure she would pass unquestioned.  She didn't choose it, I did.  And she is no longer affiliated with the SIS, that they think they can continue to control her life will cost them dearly."  He was angry of course, and he let the threat hang in the air.

"Yeah, she explained the uniform, and she asked me to dig a little deeper, because she saw the same red flags you did. The dead drop used turned out to be in a sector in Hutt space, light years away from where your ship was. She asked me to keep chasing that lead at the time, but the other thing that caught her attention was the source of the order - Director Jax Brixen. He was her CO on her last mission for SIS, and she seemed to think that his fingerprints on this is proof of a personal vendetta, but she didn't give me any further details."

"This entire thing feels personal.  Aittera and I have a connection, we always did, she was always so easy to feel in the force and now I can't feel her at all."  He sighed and took another swallow from his glass.

"I don't suppose you know where I can find this Jax Brixen?  I believe his neck and my lightsaber would become fast friends."

Sheridan shook her head. "No, and I doubt it'd make much difference now anyway. I think he was just taking advantage of the fact that the footage fell into his lap. I traced the signal back to its original source eventually, and Aittera was right. It didn't come from an SIS agent."

"Who did it come from then?"

She pressed her lips together, considering how best to answer his question, and in the end, she reached for the holoterminal again to pull up surveillance footage from the street outside Aittera's apartment. "This is from the night before the local port authority logs the last time the Devious Hope left Nar Shaddaa."

The familiar form of Ragious's wife, Kiabe, stalked toward the door, and when it wouldn't open, she forced her lightsaber blade into the lock until it melted away. The footage ended with her forcing the door open and charging inside.

"This is footage from Riukii's system isn't it?" He had a feeling he knew what he was looking at, "I want to see the rest.  And please do not insult me by saying you don't have it."  He wasn't angry, in fact his face had taken on a sadness.  He was Kol Arren in this moment not Darth Ragious.

"I honestly don't have it," she answered apologetically. "It was scrubbed from the system. I can tell you that whatever happened that night, it changed everything. When I saw her before she left, it was obvious that whatever happened had affected her deeply.

"She didn't give me any details," she quickly added, lifting her hand again to ward off that inevitable question. "She knew you would eventually come to look for answers, and she asked me to convince you that she was dead, but when I saw this, I realized that  there was more to it. Then, when Blue said you had told her that Kiabe was dead, I thought maybe Aittera was trying to protect someone. Knowing what I know of her, it's probably a list of someones that includes you and herself."

"That was the night my wife died."  Ragious offered a smile to Sheridan he didn't want her to think this was going to be something he grew angry over.  "If it was scrubbed did you do the scrubbing?"

If she was relieved when he didn't react angrily, she hid it well, though she imagined he could feel the uptick in her nerves through the Force well enough. She shook her head, answering honestly. "It wasn't me, and it was done so well, even I couldn't figure out who'd done it. Believe me, I looked. Very few people are good enough not to leave some kind of print behind - and I'm damn good at finding those traces."

"It's not fair.  I can't even bury her.  No body.  I can't return her to her home.  My wife and I spent decades sparring with each other.  Our entire marriage was spent challenging each other in some way."  He took a drink, swallowing hard.  It was probably to give him time to recheck the emotions that ran so deep in him.

"After seeing this, I feel that Aittera killed her and the only thing I am angry about is that I am not angry.  I loved my wife, I love Aittera.  That footage tells me Kiabe died in battle and I can not be angry about that.  What I can be angry about is being robbed of the chance to give my wife a goodbye appropriate for her."

"I know you're not asking for my advice, but I'm going to give it. Search the local medical facilities. Body dumps rarely take place far from the scene, and this clip suggests the scene was here on Nar." She spoke in the quiet support of one soldier speaking to another.

"Thank you, I will try that."  He offered her a smile, truly grateful for the way she had regarded him.  "You've never thought about switching sides have you?  You've been invaluable, and I would give you anything you wished for you to work with me."  It was a long shot of an offer he knew, but he was genuine in his regard of her skills, and that he would likely give whatever she desired if she would join his staff.

Sheridan smiled back. "I'm happy where I am, thanks. I think I see it now, though."

"See what?"

"Why she was willing to compromise everything that she stood for for you."

"I never asked for that, by the way.  I will never ask her to do anything against her personal beliefs."

"Maybe, but you had to know what it would do to her reputation and her credibility. She burned a lot of bridges to be with you."

"And I vowed that I would make up for each and every one.  That I would be there for her, and that's what I am doing.  I must find her, and if I have to have my forces cut through every single SIS operative until they retract that vendetta they have on her, I will."

"Well, I wish you the best of luck, sincerely," she offered as she fished a datastick from a pocket to slide across to him before putting the holoterminal away. "That's your copy of everything I have."

"Thank you, truly.  Keep my offer in mind, if the Republic ever becomes too constricting I can guarantee you the highest of freedoms to pursue what you desire in the Empire."

"Oh, I don't work for the Republic anymore. I'm with a PMC, and I've got the freedom to pursue any side contracts I like."

Dumb Kriffing Luck (Ongoing Story)

By the time the second message found Aittera, she had fallen into an almost predictable cycle. Wake up. Clean up. Hop worlds. Hide her ship. Drink herself into oblivion, usually getting herself into one or two good bar brawls in the process. She'd become a shadow of her former self.

In a dingy little cantina somewhere on a dingy little planet she hadn't even bothered to learn the name of, she spied some oddball news item speculating about the meaning of the strange message and who its intended recipient must be. (Darth Ragious's face had been easy enough to recognize, of course.)

She narrowed a cobalt gaze at the Imperial uniform hung behind Kol. She wasn't sure what infuriated her more – that he really thought he could lure her out of hiding by returning to the charade that he ever cared about her at all or that he kept reminding her that she'd ever fallen for it in the first place.

A few days (and too many credits) later, she had a slicer send an untraceable email directly to the Sith.

"The woman you seek is dead. Let her rest in peace."

House Troubles (Ongoing Story)

Ragious leaned against the doorway to Qel'rend's office, drink in hand, and smiled at her, "I found the girl. Shara, you trained her I believe?"

Qel's smile reflected a fondness that was common when asked about one of her 'special' girls, and she nodded. "I did. I hand-picked her for Kiabe."

"She said that Kiabe did something very out of character. She would never have berated her servant in the way that she did Shara, nor left her locked in a room. I can only assume that some kind of outside source was either impersonating, or controlling my wife. Sound familiar?"

She listened thoughtfully. "You think the datacron affected her the way it affected me?"

"The datacron, or something else." He moved from the doorway to where Qel was sitting, taking the seat beside her. "Shara didn't mention my sister visiting Kiabe though, so I can't be certain of anything other than it seemed very familiar."

"I do not think I was possessed in the traditional sense. I was overwhelmed by immense rage and hatred, certainly, but I was aware, and I can recall the entire experience."

"That's exactly what Shara seemed to be describing, Kiabe consumed by rage and hatred."

She nodded, once again thoughtful. "Perhaps that is the datacron's effect on those who are not of your bloodline."

"How would the datacron have affected her on Nar Shaddaa though. I don't know how long it was
buried in that...tree."

"If it was buried in the tree."

Ragious nodded, every new answer seeming to only bring more questions, "Have you had any further luck with tracking my sister or my wife. Shara didn't know where either were."

Qel shook her head. "Nothing new. Though I have reports of both Decidion and Agonar on Nar Shaddaa recently."

"That only makes me believe we were on the right track for finding them on that world. Though with Agonar you never know, he was never bound to my wife's side like I prefer my apprentices. Do you know what he was doing on the moon?"

"Yes, he did tend to wander. There is surveillance footage of him with a bounty hunter that was under the employ of House Arren until recently." She leaned forward to call up the footage on the holo-projector on the coffee table.

In the surveillance feed, Agonar could be seen talking to - and then kissing - a redhead they were both familiar with named Riukii Talsyn.

"That's...not like Agonar."

"No, it isn't. And local port authority has logged his ship leaving a few minutes after this was recorded."

"And just brings up another question. He would never take a lover unless he was instructed to do so by my wife."

Qel'rend inclined her head in agreement, though if she had any further insights, she kept them to herself. "I suggest you question them."

"One more person on my list. Though perhaps Agonar will respond to a holo."

"I will contact him. You're not exactly his favorite person." She gave him a knowing smile.

"Yes, I was going to suggest that, I have no doubt he would answer your call. And he only hates me because I have everything he does not."

Chuckling, she leaned forward again to deactivate the holo-recording and signal Agonar's frequency.

It took several minutes, but Agonar finally answered, his holo image appearing completely nude, "I hope this is important because I was busy..." He saw Ragious's image next to Qel'rend's. "Oh for kriffs sake, both of you?"

Qel gave Agonar's image a warm, polite smile, her eyes tipping southward appreciatively, knowing it would feed his ego and hoping that would keep him on the call despite Ragious's presence. "Forgive the interruption, Lord Agonar, but I have a problem that I was hoping you might be able to help me with."

"For you. He can go die." Agonar turned so his holo image was facing only Qel, completely ignoring Ragious. Ragious in turn just rolled his eyes and moved closer. "If this is about the accounts I cleaned out, he can't have them back."

Qel's smile became one of amusement - something that was reflected in her voice as well - as though she was addressing a beloved, but belligerent child. "Consider it remuneration for your assistance. I am searching for the Ladies Kiabe and Jocelyn. Do you have any information that could assist in that endeavor?"

"This is a joke right? Some weird taunt he put you up to?" Agonar seemed suddenly angry, where before he was at least polite with Qel, his visage took on a degree of danger, "He's the powerful Darth Ragious, and he knows damn well his wife is dead."

Her smile evaporated, and she passed a concerned look back toward Ragious before responding to Agonar. Her voice was grave, carrying a note of honest sympathy. "No, Agonar. He doesn't know. When and how did this happen, and why didn't you report it?"

The words are almost a physical blow to Ragious, his fist slamming down on the holoterminal, his control fading as he stared daggers at Agonar, "If Kiabe was dead, I would have felt it. You are obviously the one playing some kind of sick game."

Qel put a hand on Ragious's shoulder.

Agonar completely ignored Ragious, continuing to speak only to Qel, "I don't know how, I only know I was able to feel her death halfway across the galaxy, one moment she was there, like she always is, in the back of my mind, the next, it was like a part of me had died. Do you really think if she was still alive I would have cleaned out all of her personal accounts, and took off with Riukii?"

She frowned. "I wasn't aware that you had accessed Kiabe's accounts until you just mentioned it. Does Captain Talsyn have any information that can help us sort out what happened?"

"I don't know, she's rather tied up for the time being, when she isn't I will see if she wishes to speak to you." With that, Agonar disconnected the holocall.

Qel sat back, stunned. "Shall I have his location traced?" she asked quietly.

Ragious was still fuming, but within it, Qel could see the pain he was experiencing, "Don't bother. I know Riukii Talsyn, she will never run with him forever, she has her cantina and casino to run."

"He could be wrong."

"He's not." Ragious knew the truth when he heard it, and when he finally sat down again, he looked defeated, "I never thought she would die first, you know?"

Qel'rend put a comforting hand on his back. "She was too tenacious to die at all," she observed quietly.

"That she was. Whoever killed her..." He just shook his head, "I have to tell Thala and Khyran, Khor too when he turns back up."

Qel nodded solemnly. "Anything that I can do, you simply need to name it, my lord."

"Tell me why Agonar was able to feel her death and I wasn't. Figure out what is interfering with my ability to feel those closest to me."

"I will begin working on that right away."

Dumb Kriffing Luck (Ongoing Story)

The next transmission permeates the holonet on alternating frequencies.

The Darth is once more wearing his simple black tunic, and hanging behind the chair he is seated in is a recognizable intelligence uniform.  "I admitted something to you once and you know what that revelation meant to me.  The same continues to hold true, more now than it ever has.  I do not know what happened, whatever it was matters little. I only know that I need you to return.  You know I have never lied to you.  Regardless of what anyone else has or will tell you a part of you knows that every word I spoke was truth.  Contact me, please."

House Troubles (Ongoing Story)

Ragious arrived on Nar Shaddaa and began to check the usual places. He knew that Jocelyn and Khor had purchased property there, not far from where Aittera's had been. Checking there first, he found no trace of anything related to those he sought. Reaching out with the force, he searched next for Shara, Kiabe's personal attendant. Having claimed her for a night, as payment when Kiabe had angered him in the past, he merely recalled the memory of how she felt in the force, and sought that out.

His search led him to a brothel in the Red Light District - one of the seedier places run by a vicious-looking zabrak named Bajunta. Half of the girls in the barely hospitable parlor where customers pick out their 'company' for the evening were wearing slave collars, and most looked like they were strung out on spice. Bajunta seemed to do plenty of business, however, and he had a considerable amount of guards stationed around the establishment.

Ragious had dressed for Nar Shaddaa, wearing simple black clothing. But with the ornate lightsaber on his belt, and the way he moved as he entered, like the world should move around him, it would be impossible for him to hide the fact that he was a Sith. He commanded the force, and that command was what was guiding him, his eyes scanning each face, as he narrowed in on his target.

Shara was in a corner of the parlor, pressing herself into a space between the wall and a couch, trying to avoid being picked. There was a slave collar around her neck, and she was topless like most of the other girls, wearing a simple pair of panties that did nothing to cover what was beneath them. She was thinner than he remembered her, and there were dark bags under her eyes from a lack of proper sleep.

She was trying so hard not to be seen that most of the girls around her had noticed the tall, handsome Sith before she did. Customers this clean and good-looking were rare, and that made him something of a target for the hookers. He looked well-off enough that he'd likely tip well too which meant more spice for them.

A too-skinny lethan twi'lek with a deep scar running the length of one lek approached him first, offering him a good time. Others began to join her, all flirting, making promises of a good time or a night that he wouldn't forget. The sheer amount of attention overrode Shara's self-preserving efforts to remain unseen, and she felt the tug of his eyes when he looked her way.

Fear sliced through her, and she looked around wildly for an escape route.

Ragious had no time for the whores that surrounded him. He was after answers, and while he had no doubts that these girls would take to his victimization in any way he liked, his eyes were only for Shara.

He pushed the others away with a display of the force, and reached out with a hand to keep the girl in place. "My name is Darth Ragious, of House Arren and House Eirndeth. This slave is the property of my house. The owner of this establishment has exactly five minutes to remove this slave's collar, or he will be forfeiting every slave in this building as payment for interfering with my property."

Bajunta stepped into the parlor a moment later, flanked by two huge Gamorean guards with blaster rifles drawn and aimed at the source of the disturbance. Bajunta himself was on the down side of middle age, and years of living amid the vices of the Smuggler's Moon showed in the hollows around his clever gray eyes and the girth of his belt.

One look at Ragious and the lightsaber hilt on his belt was enough to bring him to the conclusion that the last thing he wanted to do was anger the Sith. "Uh...welcome, my lord. Is there some problem here? I have better girls, cleaner!"

"Three minutes. I do not want any other girls. I want MY property. Do I need to execute a few of your guards to make my statement, or are you going to remove that collar?"

"Your property? Why...I'm sorry. There must be some mistake. This girl has been my property for the past two years!" he declared loudly, looking around at the other patrons and whores nervously.

Shara, in the meantime, was staring at Ragious like a rat caught in a maze. She knew running was no use, because even if Ragious did not catch her up by her throat with the Force, the slave collar around her neck would be activated if she crossed the brothel's threshold. It was clear she was terrified, but it was also just as clear she'd been traumatized.

At the lie Ragious' hands immediately shot up, both of the Gamorreans flanking the Zabrak dropped their weapons as their hands moved to their throats, their mouths, unable to form basic were making horrible squealing noises as Ragious choked them to death. "One minute. Lie to me again, and I will kill every male in this room."

The zabrak jumped as his two most formidable guards were dropped at his sides, and he raised his hands. "Right away, my lord! Take her! Take them all!"

He took a device from his pocket and threw it to Ragious, using the moment it took Ragious's attention to catch it to flee back out of the parlor.

Ragious stepped over to Shara, using the device to deactivate her collar. "Stay here. You are coming home with me, but first I must attend to the rest of my new slaves."

Taking out his holo, he contacted the Avenger and ordered several shuttles be brought down, ordering them to land directly in the street and to load all of the slaves in the brothel onto them, giving orders that when every female was taken, every remaining male was to be executed. He gave additional orders that a contest was to be held among his soldiers, that the one that hunted down and delivered Bajunta's head to him was to be rewarded greatly.

Shara dropped to her knees at Ragious' feet once he removed her collar, and she waited obediently while he made this call. There was no use running now, so she awaited her execution, crying in fear and even relief now that the ordeal was over.

With his orders given, he returned to Shara and leaned down, taking her hand in his raised her up to standing. "I do not know what was done to you here, but that man that put that collar on you will be dead before the end of the day. You will be returning to House Eirndeth and from now on you serve me. If my wife can not keep her beautiful servants properly protected, then she should not have them."

He offered the girl a smile as he looked outside to see his shuttles landing. Ordering one of his commanders to remove his jacket as he walked in and saluted him, he put it around Shara's shoulders, it offering her cover as he walked her out to the shuttle.

Shara smiled back weakly, nodding when told that she will serve him. She tugged the jacket closed around her, shielding her exposed breasts from view. Grateful that it hung down to her thighs, she felt a little less vulnerable, and leaned against Ragious's side as he walked her to the shuttle, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

Once they were aboard the shuttle, Ragious gave orders for it to return him to the Avenger, and then to go back for the remaining slaves. Seating Shara in one of the shuttles more comfortable chairs, he took one across from her, "I need you to tell me what you know of where Kiabe is."

Shara's eyes widened in fear again, and when she spoke, her voice was strained, timid. "She didn't come back, my lord. I waited, I swear, but she didn't come back. I don't know where she went."

He held his hands up in a non threatening way, "It's alright Shara, you have no need to fear me." He dropped the hands and reached out for hers again, closing one around her much smaller hand, "My wife is ever beholden only to herself. It is not your fault that she abandoned you. Had I known sooner, I would have retrieved you myself long before now."

Her hands were trembling as his closed around them. "Sh-she didn't abandon me!" she insisted, defending her mistress. "She was angry with me, but she would never abandon me."

"Why was Kiabe angry with you, Shara?" He continued to talk to her calmly, even as she had her outburst, part of him appreciating her quick defense of his wife.

"I don't know. Sh-she never said those things to me before, so I knew I must have done something wrong." Shara began to sob, and she slipped from the seat to kneel at his feet, throwing her face in his lap.

Ragious moved his hand to her back, slowly stroking it across the jacket to comfort her, "It's okay, Shara. Please tell me, what things did she say?"

"She said I was filthy and that I was scum. She locked me in my room, and she said I could die for all she cared." She lifted her head to look up at him, shaking her head. "It wasn't her! Or...or I did something really bad. She never looked at me like that before! She loved me, and I loved her! She would never say those things!"

"My wife would never speak like that. Regardless of what you did, those are not words she would use. If she felt that way, she would have just executed you." Ragious speaks with certainty. "So either you are misremembering her words, or it wasn't her speaking them."

"I'm not misremembering! Everything she said was like a knife to my chest! I wanted to die!"

"Then it wasn't her speaking them. It is as simple as that."

Validated in her own beliefs, she laid her head in his lap again, sobbing relief as she hugged herself to his legs.

Ragious continued to console her, "Did you notice anyone strange around my wife just before this? Was my sister around?"

Shara lifted her head to shake it. "No, my lord. Four days after she locked me in my room, the door opened, and I thought it was my Mistress, but there was no one there. I don't know why I did it, but I fled. I was so scared, I just -knew- I had to run and never look back. I didn't know where to go, though, and a few days later, that...that Bajunta's man...he..."

Ragious spent the rest of the short journey to the Avenger comforting the girl and walked her to the medbay personally once he assured her that he would find Kiabe.

Dumb Kriffing Luck (Ongoing Story)

Aittera looked up at the news holofeed from the tattered booth she was currently occupying when she heard the other occupants of the cantina she was holed up in grow unusually quiet. The bartender was just turning up the sound.

“My name is Darth Ragious of House Arren...”

Kriff.

Whether he'd figured out that she was responsible for his wife's disappearance or was just fishing, it was only a matter of time now. She should probably get a little farther away, do a little more to conceal her identity and location.

Or...

She got up to stroll toward the bar, dropping a credstick in front of the bartender. “Another bottle of bourbon. Keep the glass.”

House Troubles

Darth Ragious spent some time speaking with the servants of House Arren regarding the incident involving his wife Kiabe and her visit to Jocelyn Arren. Despite his reputation, he was surprisingly controlled when they were unable to tell him anything beyond what his daughter had already gathered. His search for answers led him further into the grounds, and he sensed – no, he was pulled – by a powerful concentration of Force energy that seemed to be centered within the arboretum.

The restoration of the arboretum itself had been Lady Arren's personal project, and she had spent two years pouring her passion into creating a lush, colorful environment of flora and fauna drawn from every corner of the universe. The building itself had withstood the years well, but every window had been replaced, as had the antiquated irrigation systems. It had become her sanctuary in that time, and whenever she was on Kaas, it was the first place to seek out her presence.

It had also been where she received her future mother-in-law on the day in question. Ragious felt drawn to the power inside, but his attempts to gain entry proved futile. When his attempts to raise either Jocelyn or Kaldaras by holo failed yet again, Ragious decided to try a new approach by contacting an old friend – Lady Qel'rend, who had served House Eirndeth for many years. Her own experience had seen her work closely with members of the Spheres of Ancient Knowledge and Philosophy, and she had always proven to be a valuable source of advice.

He met her in a sitting room in the main house to discuss the arboretum, greeting her like the treasured confidante she had always been. "Please, sit, and I'll tell you why you're here, though I imagine you've already felt it."

"You were hoping I could provide insight into why the arboretum will not open. Thala mentioned it, but decorum dictated that I await an invitation from someone with authority they were actually -given-," she said with a rueful smile. She was often amused by Thala's tendency to overstep her position and push her boundaries.

"She does have a tendency to just push her way in doesn't she? Remind you of anyone?" He looked over with a grin, eliciting a chuckle from the Zabrak. "And yes, I was hoping you could help me with that. It seems the electronic locks are keyed to not let anyone but Jocelyn or Kaldaras in, but those I can easily bypass. They aren't what is keeping me out."

"I will do what I can to help. Allow me to examine the structure, and I will try to discern that for you." Once he nodded permission for her to do so, Qel'rend rose to make her way out to the arboretum with Ragious beside her. For quite some time, she simply appeared to stand before the large glass double doors in silence while she communed with the Force, reaching out with her senses toward the energies within.

In time, he sensed a fluctuation in the powerful emanations coming from within the arboretum as well as a kind of 'push' from the slender sorceress. There was a brilliant flash of darkness that was much like watching an explosion with inky darkness instead of bright light, and Qel'rend was thrown back off of her feet, landing hard on the ground several meters away.

Ragious was at Qel's side in an instant, his arm under her back to prop her up. "Qel! Are you alright, what happened?" His presence tensed, ready for battle, but there was something else behind the violence he was ready to unleash - a feeling like it wasn't just battle. He was ready to defend Qel.

She groaned as he helped her sit up, her face pale and body trembling from the discharge of a good deal of her power. She drew in a shuddering breath as she mentally took stock of her body's condition before nodding. When she spoke, it surprised her to find her voice was hoarse as though she'd been in a shouting match. "Try the doors again."

Ragious hesitated to leave her side, but he is stood, his lightsaber in hand (unlit) though he couldn't remember summoning it, and walked toward the door. He reached out and tried the latch again.

The door swung open, though the power that was emanating from within had not dissipated in the least. It had only receded. A moment later, Qel was behind him after stopping to compose herself. She was still shaky, but she was determined to unravel this mystery with him.

Deeper inside the lush greenery and exotic flowering plants, the source of the dark Force power could still be clearly felt - in the direction of Jocelyn's preferred point of sanctuary.

Ragious held his hand out for Qel, his other activating his lightsaber it in preparation for what could be waiting.

She slipped her hand into his, her other extended outward, palm facing the emanation as her head tilted as though listening to something. "It is not yet contained, but there is nothing here with a form that can be fought physically."

Once he felt her hand, he forged ahead toward the source of the disturbance. He was still being careful, doing his best to stay within the paths his sister built to guide them through the lush foliage, trying not to do more damage to her sanctuary than is necessary.

As they approached the clearing, the source of the force energy could be more clearly located both by their outstretched senses and the sight of a large tree that seemed to have grown near the center. The wrought iron table and chairs that once stood beside the fountain were gone completely, but as they approach the gnarled and angry-looking tree, they could see black veins of metal woven into the decaying wood of the trunk. Closer study found further striations of black that are clearly neither wood nor metal which seem to writhe and move hypnotically if one stared at them too long.

The 'feeling' of the aberration was the most disturbing, however, for it was clearly not just made up of dark force energies, but there was an underlying 'will' within its power. Everything about the 'tree' felt like angry, unsated violence, pure and unburdened by conscience. It wasn't sentient, but it was most definitely alive.

Ragious stared at the tree, watching the striations move in contrast to the parts that were wood and metal. Feeling the power it was letting off through the force, he sought the best way to attack it. Then, he looked back at Qel, once again relying on her wisdom as he began the build up of force energy to unleash a Force-infused scream at the main body. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

Qel'rend's eyes were focused on the tree itself, caught up by the hypnotic pattern that played out across the skin of the thing. She released his hand to step forward, reaching for it, intense anger and passion rising within her.

Ragious moved quickly to block her path, stepping between her and the tree before she could get too close. "Qel! Look at me! I need you to tell me what you're sensing."

Her lips curled into an angry snarl, and she drew not only on her own impressive reserve of Force power, but that of the tree's as well, to push him out of the way with a wave of her hand.

He was caught off guard by her attack, and it sent him a few feet to the side and down to a knee - enough of a disruption that she is able to reach the tree and put a hand on it before he was on his feet. He leapt at her, tackling her to the ground. Qel roared in pure rage as he pinned her, and resisted her attempts to throw him off. "Qel'rend you will look at me, you will focus and you will fight whatever hold is on you. You are not weak, you are strong and you will win against this thing."

While he managed to capture one wrist easily, the other hand evaded his attempts to secure it. The green of her eyes was completely eclipsed by the red that usually encircled her irises.

Something in what he said drew her focus to him, and she glared up at his face seizing on his admonition to fight the energies assaulting her mind. Hatred and anger - two things she had never dealt much in despite her Sith training - boiled within her. She directed her free hand up and over his shoulder, sending the energy that was filling her back toward its source, effectively attacking the tree with its own power.

The sound of wood cracking and metal rending came from behind him, followed by a dark tendril of inky blackness that seemed to whip toward the zabrak from over Ragious's shoulder. Its tip struck her head, and she fell back unconscious and motionless beneath him.

After making sure that Qel was merely unconscious, Ragious stood and turned on the tree. In an instant, his saber was once again in his hand and lit, it's crimson blade a beacon against the darkness of the tree. The power he had been drawing in on himself since they first encountered it is lying in wait, and when he opened his mouth, it was to unleash a destructive scream of pure hatred at the tree, striking out with the kinetic attack in the same instant he leapt to do battle with it with his Lightsaber.

The tree shattered beneath the multi-pronged attack, sending shards of wood and metal in every direction that embedded themselves deeply in anything in their trajectory, including the glass ceiling and walls, sending large panes of it falling atop them.

Ragious reached both hands out with the force to redirect any panes of glass that would endanger Qel'rend or himself. Watching the area where the tree was, he tried to feel in the force what was feeding it and making it so powerful.

The only thing left was the very base of the tree, and in the hollowed out trunk, there was a small device that looked like a datacron, still emanating with a fraction of the same power from before.

Using the force, Ragious called the datacron to his hand, and then moved to scoop Qel up and exit the area.


Several hours after the incident with the tree, Qel awoke in an unfamiliar bed. Wincing, she raised her hand to her head to rub between her two foremost horns.

Ragious had been sitting a silent watch over her for the entire time, holding the small stasis box in his lap, not willing to risk anyone else touching it. When she stirred, he immediately poured her a glass of water from the pitcher the servants had brought in at the start of his vigil. "Welcome back. Was afraid we were going to have to spend the night here."

She sat up with a groan and took the water with a grateful nod, drinking the entire glass slowly, but steadily. When she was done, she looked to the stasis box on his lap. "I take it that is what created the tree?"

Ragious nodded. "Datacron, ancient. I believe it was part of a collection owned by Mistanis' husband. I tried activating it in the usual way, but it didn't work. I suspect it wants blood."

Qel'rend stared at the box in thought. "Something meant to affect members of your bloodline then. I wonder to what end."

"I'm not stupid enough to feed it, so I suspect I'll need to find Kalista for us to get any answers."

"Yes, that would be the safest course of action. I think it's safe to assume that Kiabe brought this when she came to visit your sister, and that when its energies were released, both women were affected."

"Qel, do you know where either of them are? I guess I should have asked that at the start. I'm not trying to imply you would hold it back, I just never thought it important to ask."

A soft smile formed on her lips as though this was amusing to her, but not in any way that speaks to her thinking anything negative or demeaning about her friend. "I started searching for them both the moment I found out they were missing, but no, I haven't found them. According to the trackers I hired, Kiabe was last seen on Nar Shaddaa, and Jocelyn...is a more difficult subject. There have been more sightings of her and more recent, but nothing concrete. I brought the reports I have received with me. I was going to give them to you right away, but we seem to have gotten distracted."

"Nar huh...what the hell was she doing there? Stalking Aittera and me?" He couldn't wrap his head around it, but he smiled at Qel. "Thank you for looking out while I was away, and for keeping an eye on Thala. Even if she would have completely disregarded anything you told her was in her best interest."

"She seeks out my council easily enough, but she only seems to take my advice about half of the time." She chuckled. "I'm learning to read when though, and I am learning how to influence her accordingly."

Dumb Kriffing Luck

[This thread is essentially an account of what happens after this story. Full explanation in the comment thread.]


The regularly scheduled broadcast of the Holonet News fades, replaced by a holo-image that flickers in blue, a Sith clad in deadly black armor under the robes of their order.  His stance is imposing as he takes down the hood of the robes and begins to speak.

“Before you begin to try to block this signal, you should know that I have some of the best slicers in the galaxy working against you.  My name is Darth Ragious of House Arren, and the recipient of this message knows who I am speaking to.  You may have changed everything to hide from them, but you will never be able to hide from me.  This message will find you. As I said - and as you saw - my people are the best, and they will make sure this message reaches the furthest edges of the rim if that is where you've gone.  You know where I am.”

The image fades again, and the news anchors look like they don't know what happens, but it is obvious that someone quickly tells them to ignore the message, the same one that will be repeated and shared over and over.

House Troubles

The Avenger finally returned to Kaas after months away, but Ragious chose to continue keeping communications silence even as he landed his personal ship on the grounds of the Eirndeth Estate. Stalking through the grounds, he searched for his daughter, drawing the force in on himself to keep her from sensing more than a general presence. He found her in the training dojo attached to the main house, sparring with several practice droids, a lightsaber in each hand.

Watching her in silence, Ragious felt the pride of a parent at the young woman his daughter had become. "You're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you, and twice as deadly."

The familiar voice brought a ready smile to the young pureblood's lips, and her lightsabers were de-activated and at her hips before she had even turned around to run into Ragious's arms. "Father!"

He embraced her, lifting her in the hug until her feet left the floor. "I've missed you so very much. I was hoping you would have been able to join me on the Avenger before we went into the Deep Rim, but the timing was all off."

"The bantha more than made up for it. I love that creature!" she laughed, hugging his neck for so long a moment, it seemed she might not let go. Finally, she stepped back to give him a sly grin. "So, what did you bring me?"

He laughed and bent to plant a light kiss on her lips. "My Thala, always wanting more. Good thing I love you most." Reaching behind him on his belt, he pulled loose the two ornate lightsabers he had hanging there and held them out to her. They were obviously handcrafted by an expert, someone well versed in the Sith art of lightsaber construction. "I have been working on these since the day you were born, and I am so proud to finally be able to gift them to you."

Thala took the lightsabers with an expression of awe, testing the heft of the one in her main hand. "They're practically weightless! Fighting with these will be like using an organic extension of my own arm! I'm honored." She looked up at him with a wide smile of affection and appreciation. "Thank you, Father."

"No, Thala, thank you for being worthy of them. Now, tell me all I have missed. I want to know everything."

She frowned at the request, and with a glance toward the doors to make certain they were closed, she gestured toward a side area where they could both sit. She secured the new lightsabers to her belt in place of the old ones as she headed in that direction so she could discard them onto a side table next to her other equipment. There had been more to her routine than simple lightsaber training, and she tapped a command into the console on the wall to signal for the droids to begin cleaning up the training room.

There was a carafe of water and two glasses on the table, and she took a seat there before speaking again. "I'm not sure of everything. I've been trying to piece it all together, but there's a lot that's not making sense. It looks like Kiabe and Jocelyn Arren were going to make some sort of coup attempt."

He followed her, taking a seat and pouring himself a glass of water. "A coup for what? Your mother isn't still pissed at me, is she? I was out winning battle after battle, leading the soldiers loyal to this house."

"I have no idea. I can't find her."

It was his turn to frown. "And why would Kiabe be conspiring with Jocelyn? That makes as much sense as if I was to begin conspiring with my Rattataki slave. What do you mean you can't find her? Your mother? She was on Nar Shaddaa last I heard."

Thala shook her head. "A few days after you went radio silent, I went to the Outer Rim with Lady Qel. She was on a business trip and wanted company, so I acted the bodyguard for her. When I got back, there were a few messages from Kiabe. In the last message, she was babbling about how I shouldn't trust any of the men in our house - especially you and Khor - and that she was going to 'repair the damage' that you two had caused. I thought she was being over-dramatic.

"There was another message from one of the servants at House Arren - a distress call. It had been a couple of days though, so I only came in on the aftermath of what had happened there. I've been trying to piece things together ever since."

"She was really still upset about Aittera? Thala, let me explain something to you, something that if you truly are my daughter, and the Sith I know I have raised, then you will understand. I have never hidden anything in my life from you.  I have never safeguarded you against the uglier things I have done, and I see no reason to ever start.  You are my daughter, and I love you more than anything else in this galaxy.  We are born to conquer, and at times our emotions draw us toward something that we must possess. For me Aittera was and remains one of those things. I had her, and she slipped away, and I did everything to possess her again."

"Father, you never owed me an explanation for Aittera or any other conquest, just as I never owe you one. We are Sith. We are entitled to our own pursuits," she confirmed with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Which servant sent the distress call, and what were the contents?"

"The one that attends to the household when Darth Kaldaras is away. She simply said that something was wrong and requested assistance from a member of the family since he was away.

"I went there immediately, but obviously, the danger was past by then. I've managed to put together what I think is an accurate timeline of the events that happened there, but the surveillance was tampered with, and you know how inaccurate servants can be."

"Tell me what you've discovered then. Last I heard Kaldaras was on some journey tracing down some holocron that a tablet he came across referenced."

"Kiabe paid a visit to the house, specifically to meet with Lady Jocelyn. The servants' accounts are a little varied - some say there was a fight, some described something more like a disturbance involving the Force - and none of the survivors are firsthand witnesses. Whatever happened, when Kiabe emerged, she cut a swath through the household, killing half the servants - including all of the alien ones - and the only one who saw Jocelyn was the servant who sent the message. She said Jocelyn appeared, shoved her into a closet, and told her to send the distress call."

"And no one from House Arren has since tried to contact you? Not Kaldaras, or his Chiss? Just silence?"

Thala shook her head. "The servants say they haven't seen either of them or Lady Jocelyn since that day."

Ragious sighed. "I guess it is a good thing I have returned then. Because it appears I have two houses to put back together."

She nodded sympathetically. "I've done my best to hold things together here, but quite honestly, I would rather be in the fight somewhere than babysitting a bunch of whiny servants."

"That does seem like more of a job for one of your brothers."

Thala laughed, nodding. "If Khor is at all to blame for whatever is happening, you should make him do it. He seems to like playing with things that are beneath him."

"I was thinking your twin. He seemed to like stirring shit while we were on the Avenger. Maybe I'll make his little blonde whore into one of the house servants too. I obviously cannot trust her on the Avenger."

She smirked. "Even better. You should've seen the messages he sent trying to rub it in my face that he'd been posted on the Avenger with you."

"That was your mother's doing. I wanted you, but you had not yet returned."

"It gave me the perfect chance to piss her the hell off when I did get back," she sneered.

Ragious smirked at his daughter. "I'm sure she's worried with you around that I would truly be replacing her."

"She should be. I'm ten times the woman she is and a hundred times the fighter."

"And very soon, you may just be proving both of those things to me." He leaned over to kiss his daughter again on the cheek as he stood. "I'm going to go put House Arren back in order. I will return in a few hours. Until then, see if you can't raise Thalkyr up on the Avenger and inform him to bring a shuttle - and his slut - down."

Thala's lips curled into a cruel, delighted smile. "It will be my pleasure, Father."

Active TOR Character List

Characters I've been RP'ing most in game will be listed here, while my full character list can now be found here.

Pub Side

Kel'ri
Sheri'dan
Aliyobi

Imp side

Riukii

Kelri'irris
Sher'idan
Thala

Control (Sheridan Zila)

Control. It all came down to maintaining control. The medication was helping with her symptoms, minimizing them, staving off the headaches and nausea that sapped at her strength, and she was grateful for that much. Her dreams were a different story.

Her dreams vacillated between the events that she now knew had never happened yet seemed so real and the actual events that had led to her discharge from the army nearly two years ago. She would wake up in a cold sweat, sometimes shouting, and sometimes even on her feet beside the bed.

Worse, she had begun seeing things here and there. At first, she'd thought maybe she was dreaming really vividly or that her mind was playing tricks on her as little things cropped up – the general's voice ordering her to stand down as it had in her hallucination or the smell of sweat mingled with cheap aftershave. More than once, she had looked down at her hands and seen bloodied, bruised knuckles even though she hadn't been in any kind of fight that would cause them.

There was that sense that she was being watched, of course, but that was just as likely from the real possibility that the Commandant had decided to ask someone to keep eyes on her after finding out she'd been drugged by this Darth he'd told her about.

Then, yesterday, she'd seen General Zila himself, flanked by the two men who had arrived at her door in her hallucination, stalking toward her while she was walking through the spaceport. She'd stopped short, her hand dropping to the blaster on her hip, but a small group of Twi'leks dressed in brightly colored pastels walked by in front of her, and the men were gone.

She had reasoned that as long as she could maintain control over her reactions, she could justify keeping the extent of these 'moments' to herself for the time being. From what little explanation she'd gotten about her situation, there wasn't anything more that anyone could do, and the over-protective nature of her fellow officers at ARCS would likely lead to someone babysitting her in a medcenter somewhere.

Frustration was eating away at that self-discipline that was key to maintaining control. She wasn't privy to whatever investigation was going on, and until someone could point out a target to aim an assault cannon or rifle at, there was nothing to do but wait. Wait. Maintain control. Keep moving.

(( OOC Post )) On the issue of 'Active' vs. 'Inactive' Characters

I wanted to write something up here to clarify what I mean by 'Active' and 'Inactive' when referring to my characters. Basically, I make the distinction so people who are looking for me know who to look for me on when they don't care which of my characters they're interacting with or just need to find me in game. That's really all there is to it. I have a note to myself to glance at the list twice a month, adjust as needed, and republish if anything's changed.

Several things go into labelling a character as 'Active'. Mostly, it's who I've been RP'ing of late, who I'm focusing on writing for (not that I won't write whatever comes into my head for any character), who people are asking me to log in, or people who are involved in something going on in RP (like the Dheroveer plot). I generally have chosen one or two 'default' characters to log in to go hang out in open RP settings (usually the cantina at the Slopes or on Fleet or where ever people are gathering) who are likely to blend in or interact in a way that makes sense for those types of settings.

'Inactive' characters are simply characters that I haven't RP'd for one reason or another in a while. I'm happy to get them involved in things, bring them out to RP with a specific player's character in private, or even bring them to a social function they were specifically invited to.

That's it. That's all. That's the big distinction.

So, if you haven't seen me on a character in a while, it's not that I don't want to RP them. It's because I have nothing for them to RP. If you want to see me drag them off the shelf, I'm happy as hell to do it! Give me something to do with them!

Luck

There is an elusive element to life that no one can truly prepare for. No matter how much one plans, no matter how many contingencies one considers, no matter how much control a person tries to assert over every aspect of their existence, there is an unknown mechanic in the universe that can somehow affect it all. Sometimes it was for a better outcome, sometimes worse. Some called it fate; others, destiny. Some attributed it to gods or the Force. If Aittera were asked to put a name to it, she would call it luck.

Aittera had woken up to find herself blinking wearily into the face of an unfamiliar Mirialan. A feeling of warmth and comfort had seemed to flood her body, soothing away the worst of the pain that came most predominantly from the vicinity of her stomach. The familiar voice of Tes'ara, Jean's second at Agamar Risk Control Services, had been next. Relief and grief had flooded her conscious thought simultaneously.

Not dead.

Her apartment's security system had activated third-party alert protocol, alerting Jean Schramme when Kiabe destroyed her door. It was a change that Aittera had made just days ago, when he had come to talk about Sheridan Zila. She had realized only hours before that unplanned, unexpected meeting that Selus's frequency was still listed in the protocol, and asking Jean if he would mind allowing her to use his contact information instead was simply good timing. She needed someone she could rely on, and he was the one person left in the universe who still might have her back.

Should be dead.

Aittera was in a medcenter on the Upper Promenade, and the Mirialan was a Jedi healer who she would come to realize later had never given her name. As the events of the attack came back to her, Aittera was dumbfounded at the sheer impossibility of what had occurred. Jean and Tes'ara explained that the pureblood had bled out by the time they'd reached her apartment. The knife she'd used was something she never really gave much thought to anymore. It was simply part of getting ready to go somewhere, like an extension of getting dressed – blasters at her hips, knife in her boot or under her belt. The choice to stow it at her back on the day of the attack had been nothing more than a matter of convenience.

I'm not dead.

Further, they had disposed of Kiabe's body, and from what she was able to understand from the conversation between the Jean and his second, by the time Tes'ara was finished, there would be no trace of the Sith Lord's visit. She was profoundly grateful. They had insulated her against retaliation as best they could. Turned out the good guys were far more scary in their efficiency than any criminals she'd ever met.

Why aren't I dead?

Aittera would also come to learn from Jean that he had called Cartel Security to provide an escort to the medcenter, and she would marvel at her old friend for how easily he went so far above and beyond for the people he cared about. When the medical staff quit fussing over her, she asked to move to the Hope's medbay to recover. The Promenade's medcenter gleamed too bright, too metallic, and felt far too open and exposed.

Dumb kriffing luck.

When asked a few days later what was next, Aittera honestly had no idea what the answer should be. After all, she should be dead. As much as she might have told herself she wanted to die just a few days before, that instinct to survive, to fight, was as strong as it ever had been. Whatever was to come next, she was alive. Let it come.

(( I want to take a moment to once again thank the players behind Jean, Tes'ara, Evander, Radwan, and Zabess for the awesome RP that went into helping me finish this story. I'm humbled and so very, very grateful.))

Confrontation

Aittera's gut was screaming at her as she stepped into the tiny apartment and looked around as the lights came up. Something was very wrong. Something had been wrong ever since she'd left the bodega a few blocks away that she'd just come from, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. She never shrugged off that vibrating, sinking sensation that warned her of imminent danger, and it had never been wrong once in her life. It had been a constant for as long as she could remember, since the day it drove her to her feet to run toward a building that was about to erupt in an explosion in a vain attempt to save her fiance.

Warily listening for any small sound that might be out of place, she turned to key the lock to the door before setting the bag of groceries on the nearby table. She reached down to thumb the security straps loose from the holsters holding her blasters in case she needed to draw them fast as she moved toward the only part of the place she couldn't see readily from the door – the bedroom. For just a hint of a moment as she stepped across the threshold, there was an irrational hope that Kol would be standing there beside the bed, giving her that charming smile, asking her if she missed him. But the room was as empty as the rest of the apartment, and she scowled as she turned to walk back toward the little dining area.

That was when a flash of red energy drew her attention back to the front door where sparks were beginning to fling themselves away from the computerized locking mechanism onto the floor. Aittera barely had time to recognize what she was seeing as the tip of a lightsaber before the door was loosened and forced to the side where it crumbled against the inside of the doorway. Darth Ragious's formidable pureblood wife came striding toward her.

Lord Kiabe Eirndeth stood just a few inches taller than Aittera, her muscular frame bound in form-fitting armor that seemed to the observer's mind to refuse to reflect or even acknowledge light. Her black hair was pulled back in short thick braids to frame her serpentine face and seemingly glowing yellow eyes which locked onto the redhead's face as she growled battle lust and rage. Without a word, she stalked toward her prey with purpose, effortlessly deflecting each shot Aittera fired at her with her lightsaber.

“Obviously, you're not here to talk,” the smuggler quipped as she continued to fire, mentally cataloging her surroundings as she tried to see some kind of escape route as she was inevitably driven back into the living room. She knew she was no match for a Sith warrior, and she wasn't stupid or arrogant enough to try.

Kiabe leapt the small distance between them in an instant, bringing her blade down in a sweeping arc that sent white hot agony through Aittera's left arm, severing her hand from her body, catching her by the throat to shove her against the wall with an angry sneer. “No. I'm here to make you pay.”

Aittera's scream was choked short by the fingers closing around her throat, her blue eyes wide with fear and pain as she clutched her arm to her chest. As she felt her feet begin to leave the floor, she knew she was about to die. Frantically, she fought to draw in breath, and her mind suddenly seized on the feeling at her lower back like there was something pinned between herself and the wall. Darkness crept at the edges of her vision as she puzzled for a moment what the familiar shape was, her thoughts racing the inevitable. This was important. This had to be important.

She didn't have time enough to think it through. She reached back with her off hand to tug the object free, only recognizing in that moment the knife she nearly always carried on her – something most often stuck in her boot, but on occasion kept beneath her trenchcoat at the back of her waist as it was now. In the next impossible moment, the vibroblade was protruding from the pureblood's neck and blood was pouring from her jugular. Kiabe's grip on her throat loosened as she fell back, instinct bringing her lightsaber swinging toward Aittera in one final attack in the last moments of her life.

Relief was cut short by fresh pain in the redhead's side, and she crumbled to the floor against the wall, clutching at her side where she found a hole burnt into her jacket before she lost consciousness.

Giving Up

There was a familiar low groan almost like a growl coming from nearby, the sound of pain and muted frustration. It took more than a minute to realize it was coming from herself, and as Aittera tried to push herself slowly up into a sitting position, the dull throb where her head was supposed to be forced her to lie right back down.

“Too much. Drank too much. I've got to stop trying to make up for lost time.” she murmured to the empty bedroom. That's not what you were doing, and you know it. She knew it, but she wasn't ready to admit it, not even to an empty room.

It had been two weeks of utter, ongoing frustration since her return to Nar Shaddaa. The visit from Somaesthesia had seemed itself to be more something she'd imagined than had actually happened, but after two days of doing everything she could to reach out to Kol - from taking a sedative in hopes of inducing one of their shared dreams to simply standing in the cockpit of the Hope, screaming his name to the rafters until she was hoarse – she had begun to wrestle with the possibility that it really had all been some kind of sick mind game.

Teach had shown up at the hangar with a Jedi named Zero. Well, technically a former Jedi, but to Aittera, Force wielders were pretty much Sith or Jedi, and she could not care less about the nuances they used to differentiate themselves. It had taken a lot of convincing to keep them from taking her into custody or detaining her, and in the end, she'd agreed to give Zero her tracking beacon's frequency to keep her from putting her idea of fusing the Hope's landing gear to the hangar deck into action. By the time the two had left, she was furious with her fellow former SIS agent for bringing yet another damned Force user into her situation. She was fairly furious with herself for her convoluted explanations in response to his accusations as well.

She'd promised to stay on Nar Shaddaa while Zero investigated her claim to innocence, though, so she'd finally left the Hope behind to go back to her apartment. That was a better place to begin looking into things on her own in any case, she'd reasoned - until she'd walked in, of course. From the moment she'd stepped inside, she was assaulted with the memory of the time she and Kol had spent in the tiny abode, and the question of whether it could all be a lie was renewed with vigor.

Aittera solicited the help of a slicer named Sheridan Zila that she had relied on in the past to try to track down the evidence the SIS had against her. It seemed to boil down to this security footage Rallyn had informed her of, but a few days after the slicer had answered confidently that she could find where exactly the file had come from, Aittera had a visit from Jean Shcramme informing her that -her- slicer was one of -his- people and wouldn't be working for her any longer.

If she didn't love and respect her old friend so much, she might have decked him. Of course, she understood. She couldn't even imagine how to begin to slice her way into SIS databases and networks without tripping an unimaginable number of alerts and security along the way, and if his agent was compromised, his company's integrity would be compromised along with her. She understood. She just didn't have to like it.

I didn't have to break down in front of him either.

Yes, that had been the most humiliating moment of all – spilling salt into his shoulder as she finally admitted aloud for the first time that what she had experienced had very likely been an illusion. After all, Kol – Ragious, damnit – had said that he had realized he couldn't conquer her by force, and hadn't Khor all but said that he thought seduction would gain her trust more successfully?

Aittera reached for the bottle of bourbon on the table beside her bed, chasing her hangover with the proverbial hair of the dog. Clearing her name seemed less important now. Doing anything seemed less important really. Eventually, she might track down the slicer Jean had offered as an alternative and see if they could get her any closer to some answers, but for now, she no longer saw the point. There was no fight left in her.   

Homecoming

She knew something was off before she'd finished keying in the security code, and by the time the maintenance door of the private hangar had slid open, her blasters were in hand. Her eyes scanned the interior as she hesitated a moment to assess the feeling in her gut that danger was waiting for her to step over the threshold. While the automatic lights kicked on, illuminating the Devious Hope and the neatly kept hangar space around it, she examined every crate and piece of machinery for any sign of movement as her mind ran through possible ambush points, quickly running through the scenarios she would choose if her target were someone with her particular skills.

She was a sharpshooter, so distance would give her target the advantage. She would probably choose to wait just inside the door so that her target would have a blaster barrel at their temple before they could raise a weapon. It risked exposing her blaster arm to attack, but the bet would be that she could get a shot off in that moment it took her target to realize she was there and react. Either side of the door would work, of course, so Aittera had a fifty fifty chance of keeping her head. Fun odds, those.

Left. Step and pivot, blaster raised.

Aittera found herself face to face with a woman about an inch or two taller than herself with black hair pulled back into a tight bun, giving her hawkish face a stern severity that belied her natural beauty. Recognition took a milisecond, but it was the tension that kept her blaster arm extended.

“Rallyn?” she began simply.

“Yes, Aittera?” Rallyn's voice was as low and cool as her own.

“Mind telling me why your blaster is in my face?”

“I was trying to get the drop on you,” Rallyn explained flatly.

“And how is that working out for you?”

The two women stood in silence for a moment longer, each with a blaster pointed at the other, until Rallyn's grim expression dissolved into a cautious smirk, and she holstered her weapon. Once Aittera followed suit with a smug look of her own, the two clasped hands, though the tension in the air between them never quite dissipated wholly. This obviously wasn't a social call.

“So, what are you doing here? I didn't contact you.” Aittera wasn't much for social niceties, and Rallyn knew that. Besides, it was a better approach than demanding to know why the SIS agent had broken into her hangar and was essentially lying in wait.

“I wish you had. I might have been able to get ahead of this.” Rallyn pulled a piece of flimsiplast from a pocket and handed it over. “Security footage of you in an Imperial Intelligence uniform turned up in a data drop that is used by some of our deep cover agents.”

Aittera studied the arrest order with a growing frown. “At least they were kind enough to specify that I should be brought in alive beside the allegations of sedition and treason.”

“What the hell, Aittera? Please tell me you were investigating something independently or...I don't know....rescuing someone?” Caution gave way to genuine concern in her friend's tone, making her wince.

“No, it's more complicated than that,” she began, handing the flimsiplast back to Rallyn. “It's not what it looks like.”

“Well, that's a relief, because I did a little digging. Between this and an unconfirmed incident I tracked the Hope back to involving the Hutt Cartel and some blockade, it is starting to look like you and this Sith, Darth Ragious – whose dreadnought that footage was from – are working together.” The undertone of accusation didn't escape Aittera's notice.

“It wasn't like---yes, he was working with me on the Hope, but it wasn't—I never aided in any actions against the Republic. This was personal. I was a guest on the Avenger. That's all,” she found herself sputtering defensively.

“A guest? A guest!” Rallyn was incredulous. “Well, I'll just go back to headquarters and explain that you were just a guest on the flagship of a Sith Darth's fleet. I'm sure they'll understand. Hell, we get invited to come inspect Imperial vessels all the time!”

Aittera's defensiveness gave way to irritation. “I'm sleeping with him!”

She regretted the admission the moment it left her lips, and one look at Rallyn's appalled expression reinforced that feeling.

“If Davin were alive---” she began, but Aittera was quick to cut the sentence off before the dagger in her heart could be twisted.

“Davin's not alive,” she reminded her old friend coldly.

“Thank the stars,” Rallyn spit back.

“We're done here.” Aittera turned away from the brunette and stalked toward the Hope.

“The moment the Devious Hope tries to dock on any Republic world, you'll be arrested. I can't make this go away,” her oldest and once dearest living friend called out. “Watch your back!”

A slender figure shrouded in black and cloaked in the Force watched the two women converse, waiting until her target turned to stride toward the light freighter known as The Devious Hope before silently moving into position. It wasn't until Aittera had keyed in her security code and stepped into her ship's corridor before she was aware that she was still not alone, but it was already too late. Lightning erupted seemingly from nowhere, violently striking her body to send it crumpling to the floor. The last thing the redheaded smuggler was aware of before she lost consciousness was the smooth black helmet that hovered just in front of her waning vision and the accompanying recognition of the small crimson crest etched into it. 

Time to Go

“I want you to authorize a shuttle. I'm going back to Nar Shaddaa.”

Kol's smile dissolved as he halted his approach to kiss the fiery redhead who had just stepped into his private quarters. “I know you're unhappy with what happened, but if you---”

“What? Stop and think? That's all I've been doing since the briefing – thinking.” Aittera shook her head in that slow, incredulous way she had when she felt like she was completely out of her depth. “I don't belong here.”

“Aittera,” he implored as he took the final step to bring himself to stand before her, his voice softening as he touched her cheek. “Yes, you do. You belong here with me, at my side. We've been through this. I did what was necessary. As Darth Ragious, I cannot be seen as weak, and I cannot allow two of my commanders to conspire against me.”

“You executed them without any evidence,” she asserted, not quite making eye contact. Her stomach was still churning in spite of how thoroughly she'd emptied it in the privacy of her own room.

“I told you. I have no doubt in your assessment.”

“I didn't know I was sentencing them to death by sharing an observation!” Now she did lift her eyes to meet his, and he saw the guilt he was already feeling from her.

“You were trained as an assassin for SIS, Aittera. You've killed people before.”

“I followed orders given to me that were based on extensive assessment of threats to the Republic. By killing a handful of people, I saved hundreds, possibly thousands of lives. Two months with you, and I'm stabbing mercenaries in the neck and watching you cut off the heads of people I point at.” She stepped past Kol to pace the room with a pained expression.

“People who would have tried to kill me and, very likely, you as well,” he reminded her.

“Maybe,” Aittera acknowledged with a nod. “Or, maybe they would have realized what they were up against and changed their minds, altered their plans. It's one thing to anticipate and defend against an attack, and it's another to outright kill someone for the way they look at you in a briefing.”

Kol bristled as he watched her walk the small strip of floor between the door and the couch. “Would you have preferred that I wait for him to attack you? I saw the way he looked at you! Sith can sense emotion, and the moment he realized you suspected him, he had reason enough to kill you. I'm not going to apologize for acting first!”

She stopped her pacing to glower at him. “I'm not asking you to! I'm just---Damnit, Kol, I shouldn't have been here in the first place! Hell, they were both Sith! I am standing here, feeling horrible about causing the death of two SITH! I'm so out of my element at this moment, I'm beginning to wonder which way is up!”

Groaning, Aittera sank onto the couch and rubbed a hand over her face, the fight draining from her as quickly as it had come. “I don't belong here. I can't live like this – constantly looking over my shoulder for which member of your family is going to come after me or which of your men are going to use me as proof that Darth Ragious's head should be the next one rolling across the floor. I can't be responsible for the death of someone's father or son, just because I---”

Kol took a seat beside her on the couch to put an arm around her. “You're not. I made that decision, not you. As for looking over your shoulder, can you honestly say you weren't already doing that before, when we were enemies?”

“You were easier to spot,” she joked darkly as she let him pull her against his side. “Still, this is where I need to step off and get some space. I don't recognize myself anymore. It's not forever, and I'm not...walking away from whatever this---we---are. You know where to find me.”