So, after leaving Nar Shaddaa, I came to a realization that I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do next.
More specifically, I still had my rather broad and vague plan of just having fun, going on various adventures full of death and carnal pleasures, and slowly building a stable power base of varied and colorful minions along the way to later wage war against some still unspecified enemies, but currently I found myself unsure exactly where I should travel next after finishing my visit at the Smuggler’s Moon, every option having their own allure.
Fortunately, this was not a particularly novel experience. In fact, looking back on my life, ‘having no plan whatsoever and stumbling upon something amazing’ had been the starting point of a large number of adventures.
At the beginning of my career, when I was still a teeny weeny apprentice, it had usually gone something like:
"Adas, you handsome bastard, I need you to murder several important people and retrieve a collection of ominous ancient artifacts. Please ignore the fact that I am obviously manipulating you and will try to possess you later. Instead, focus on my seductive voice and impressive collection of revealing outfits."
Then there was the whole business with Grandpa Alloysius:
"Adas, my grandson. You must acquire several hostile ghosts and put them inside your head to save your life and defeat Darth Thanaton. Try not to get possessed in the process. Good luck.”
And after that there was that mess with the Eternal Empire:
came the truly unpleasant years.
"Darth Imperius, our glorious leader. We are under attack by a mysterious enemy nobody understands. Please go save the galaxy. Also try not to get possessed by that KRIFFING KRIFF Valkorion while you're at it. Thank you, glorious leader."
Now that I thought about it, possession was an issue that featured surprisingly often in my life…
Anyway, the point was that I had rarely possessed a proper plan, mostly as I seldom ever needed one. Most of the time I simply stumbled into situations, committed several acts of heroism or villainy, accidentally acquired a few followers, and somehow emerged richer than before.
The Force had always been remarkably good at providing me with opportunities and obstacles…also, opportunities disguised as obstacles and obstacles disguised as opportunities.
Selleana would probably call it the Will of the Force, but I was fairly certain that all those contrived coincidences happened simply because the Force had absolutely no idea what it actually wanted, spending eternity pushing people toward contradictory goals and then acting surprised when things exploded.
In short, the Force was a dick.
As such, I felt no particular urgency regarding my next destination. In the end, if something important was to happen, reality would inevitably throw it at my face eventually. So instead of agonizing over where to go, I simply selected a reasonably interesting random planet in the Outer Rim, engaged the hyperdrive, and allowed fate to sort itself out.
It had worked before…mostly.
In the meanwhile, I decided to spend some time with my new minions.
For most of my life there had always been some of these around me, be it advisors, lovers or fanatics (And with Lana, all of the above simultaneously), but after my death I was forced to spend several thousand years with extremely limited social interaction.
Now, however, I once again found myself sharing a ship with other living beings. What’s better, those living beings happened to be a disturbingly enthusiastic assassin and a three-meter-tall Flesh Raider whose primary hobby was to eat people.
It was nice.
And there were only two of them for now, which was a blessing as I had once commanded a crew of over a dozen people aboard a vessel with exactly one functioning bathroom. That experience had taught me valuable lessons about leadership, logistics, and the limits of human patience.
…Though admittedly Raksh alone was able to shoot far above his weight in that department, so it wasn’t as much of an improvement as it could have been.
Still, it was fun to have minions again.
***
“And then I, completely alone and without anyone at my side, finally struck that kriffing parasite down within his own mindscape, ending Valkorion’s reign once and for all!” I spread my arms dramatically as I delivered the conclusion of the tale. “Everyone was cheering. Jedi, Sith—every last one of them stood there watching in awe as I emerged victorious, having single-handedly saved the galaxy yet again.”
Not a trace of hesitation touched my voice despite the fact that the story had undergone some... minor modifications. A lesser man might have felt guilty about embellishing events and diminishing everyone else’s contributions for my own benefit…
I, however, was a Sith.
Across the common room, my audience sat utterly enthralled.
Leila looked as though she had just received a divine revelation. The Twi'lek's eyes practically burned with devotion while her fingers flew across the surface of her datapad, preserving every word with impressive diligence, her expression shifting between awe, pride and joy.
I was fairly certain those notes would eventually find their way back to the Cult of the Screaming Blade, as Leila, despite her official role as my assassin, could arguably also be considered some sort of prophet now. After all, she was currently travelling with the cult’s god, listening to his wisdom, witnessing his miracles and was apparently documenting his adventures for posterity.
Raksh, meanwhile, simply sat frozen as he listened to my story, his maw hanging open and his eyes wide…though admittedly, that was not entirely unusual for the Flesh Raider. I wasn't entirely certain how much of the story he understood, but judging by the emotions coming from him, he had grasped the important parts: Sith Ada strong. Valkorion bad and stink.
Honestly, that was more than sufficient.
“How amazing!” Leila breathed, her lekku trembling with excitement. “So you were truly the only one able to withstand that demon's pressure?”
“Indeed.” I nodded sagely. “It was tragic, but someone had to do it. The rest, though valiant, were sadly too weak to continue the fight.”
Leila gasped in awe.
“They were all willing to aid me, but Valkorion's power was simply too overwhelming.” I continued solemnly. “It was truly heartbreaking to witness.” I sighed heavily. “Revan took it particularly poorly. The realization of his own inadequacy was simply too painful to accept and his resolve broke completely, the man weeping on the floor through the entire battle.”
Leila nodded without a trace of hesitation, her fingers still typing.
It was deeply satisfying to know that this tale would soon find its way to Nar Shaddaa and spread among the Cult of the Screaming Blade, inevitably destroying the last remains of Revan’s reputation that could have survived so long after his death.
Kriff that guy.
“Like that Revan,” Leila said after a moment, her voice full of sincerity as she looked up from her datapad. “I too would be devastated if I could not be useful to you, my lord.”
“Yes.” I agreed, feeling a certain vindication. “He was truly a sad man and should not be emulated.”
“A cautionary tale.” Leila nodded solemnly as she added something to her notes.
“Exactly.” I confirmed simply, knowing that no one would be able to verify my version of the story.
“And yet…” she continued softly, looking at me with shining eyes. “Despite their weakness, despite their failures, despite everything... you still saved them. Just as you saved us. You truly are merciful.”
“That I am.” I agreed gravely, placing a hand over my chest. “My bleeding heart is a burden I have to carry every day.”
Leila looked genuinely moved, but my words seemed to confuse Raksh.
“MERCY?” The Flesh Raider raised his hand, the Flesh Raider looking deeply confused. “SID ADA MERCY?”
“Yes, Raksh.” Leila answered before I could. She straightened in her seat, her eyes burning with zeal. “Lord Imperius is a merciful lord who pities our weakness and seeks to bring us salvation. He is the champion of the slaves and downtrodden, a benevolent lord who gives us strength to stand up against the rot!”
Raksh stared at the woman, then looked at me. He repeated the action a few times, his eyes narrowing in confusion.
“SITH ADA STRONGEST.” He folded his arms, almost as if in defiance of his worldview being challenged. “SITH ADA CRUSH ENEMIES.”
It seemed that while I was able to somewhat able to explain to Raksh that killing everyone in my way would be rather counterproductive, he was still not ready to accept such a complicated idea as mercy, treating my more benevolent actions as a simple if devious tool of dominance.
…Someday, I would have to teach him that mercy was such a tool too.
“It is true that Lord Imperius is the strongest.” Leila sighed. “But it’s his mercy that sets him apart from the rest of this tainted galaxy. You travelled with him longer than anyone, accompanying him the last time he arrived on Nar Shaddaa and brought us salvation, so you must have witnessed countless examples of his kindness.”
Raksh looked at me again, no comprehension behind his eyes. The poor creature had no idea what she was talking about. Neither had I, to be honest, because when I visited Nar Shaddaa for the first time, the one who accompanied me was —
Ah, right. The cult still thought Raksh was Khem Val, some sort of sacred beast that had accompanied me since the very beginning.
“Really?” Leila's eyes widened.
“Yes.” I lied, nodding confidently. “He possesses the same loyalty and personality, but he lacks the original’s memories.”
Leila looked enlightened.
“Of course!” She declared, immediately typing something into her datapad. “It all makes sense now!”
I watched her write, wondering how the blind fanaticism of mu cult would integrate that one into their teachings. I hoped it would be funny.
Still, Khem Val was probably still out there somewhere. After all, the galaxy was large and Dashades were famously difficult to kill. There was a very real possibility that one day I would have both Raksh and the Khem Val standing in the same room with my flock. Then I would need to explain that mess, but…
…ehh, I will probably just wing it, saying that they were two aspects of the same being, or something like that.
***
"Where is my toothbrush?"
Silence answered me as I opened the door. I stood in the doorway of the bathroom for a few seconds longer, staring at the empty spot beside the sink where said toothbrush had been only a few hours earlier.
I knew I had left it there, because I distinctly remembered placing it next to the sink before going to sleep. It was a toothbrush and I remembered exactly where I had put it.
Which meant one of my companions had done something with it.
The mystery solved itself the moment I stepped into the communal area of the Second Talon, where I found Raksh. The Flesh Raider sat in the middle of the room, occupying nearly half of it simply by existing. His enormous frame was slumped comfortably onto the floor, the only surface in the ship capable of withstanding his weight.
More importantly, he was chewing something…something suspiciously familiar.
"Raksh." I greeted him, already beginning to understand what might have happened.
"SITH ADA!" The giant immediately looked up as he heard my voice, his entire face splitting into a delighted grin. The sight alone almost made me forget the issue and let go…almost.
"What are you chewing?" I pointed at the thing he was stuffing into his maw.
Raksh blinked, then proudly lifted the object in question for inspection. It was definitely my toothbrush, though it was hard to identify it due to its handle being bent and the bristles completely flattened. Several sections appeared to have been partially dissolved already, courtesy of Raksh’s saliva.
"TOOTH PICK." He declared proudly.
"...Raksh." I said slowly. "That's a toothbrush."
The Flesh Raider looked down at it, then at me, then back at it, his brow furrowing in concentration. Clearly, he was evaluating my argument and, after several moments, he raised one enormous finger and pointed at his mouth, ready to provide a rebuttal.
"TOOTH." He declared, then he pointed at the toothbrush. "PICK."
I opened my mouth, ready to continue this fascinating debate on the topic of the object’s inherent role, but then I closed it upon realizing it was probably not worth wasting Raksh’s limited mental space on this sort of higher knowledge if it meant him having no room for more valuable lessons down the line.
"You know what?" I finally said. "That's fair. How about you keep that one, but ask first if you need another? Can you do that for me, Raksh?”
The Flesh Raider nodded enthusiastically, apparently convinced he had won the discussion…which, unfortunately, he kind of had.
At that exact moment, Leila appeared from the shadows. One moment the space next to me was empty, the next it contained a red-skinned Twi'lek. Before I could say anything, she dropped to one knee, both hands extending forward, presenting me with a toothbrush. Her toothbrush, to be more specific.
My lord." She declared submissively. "You can use mine, if you wish to do so."
I slowly turned toward her, staring at her kneeling form with certain apprehension.
She stared back expectantly, not the slightest hint of hesitation in her expression. The Twi'lek knelt perfectly straight, entirely serious about her offer, presenting her toothbrush to me with utter sincerity.
"My lord, everything I own belongs to you." She lowered her head slightly. "From the smallest possession to my entire being."
The words were spoken with absolute conviction, though the effect was slightly diminished by the fact that her declaration of eternal devotion concerned a dental hygiene of all things.
I stared and she stared back.
"..."
"..."
"...Leila."
"Yes, my lord?"
"…you know I can just get a replacement, right?" I spoke slowly. "We packed enough supplies on Nar Shaddaa, so we should have some spare ones on the ship.”
The Twi'lek froze completely, her eyes widening. I felt the exact moment realization struck her, followed by embarrassment, then horror, then embarrassment again, but stronger.
Her face began turning darker by the second, her cheeks practically black after a few seconds.
"...Yes, of course." She managed, her voice weak. The Force practically vibrated around her, filling the ship with shame and embarrassment. “Pleaseexcusememylord!”
She shot to her feet, turning and fleeting the scene. Within seconds she had disappeared into the depths of the ship, the muffled sounds of mortification following shortly afterward from the direction of our bedroom.
I stood there for several moments, then looked at Raksh. Slowly, the Flesh Raider lifted my destroyed toothbrush.
"TOOTH PICK."
I rubbed my face.
***
The Second Talon was many things. It was fast, surprisingly comfortable, and even stylish from a certain point of view. It was also very old, old enough to have some accumulated history.
The ship had been retrofitted numerous times by numerous owners, each apparently convinced they understood spacecraft engineering better than the previous one. Entire sections had been rebuilt, modified, expanded, removed, then reinstalled somewhere else for reasons known only to individuals long gone.
The result was a vessel whose internal architecture resembled a puzzle, with systems crossed through places they had no business being, power conduits vanishing into walls only to emerge three corridors later and several maintenance hatches that led to nowhere.
Which was why I wasn't particularly surprised when several warning lights suddenly flickered across the cockpit console, an odd grinding noise echoed through the ship and then the stars stretched and snapped back into place, the hyperspace tunnel collapsing and spitting us back into the realspace, surrounded by nothing but endless darkness and distant stars.
As a confident Sith Lord, I naturally moved to investigate the issue personally, but several hours later it became increasingly clear that I didn’t exactly know what I was doing.
I was currently halfway inside an access panel beneath the engineering deck, with tools littering the floor around me, several components sitting in a pile nearby and wires hanging from the ceiling. I had absolutely no idea whether those wires were supposed to be there.
Truthfully, none of us were particularly qualified for this situation.
Raksh's technical expertise began with...no, it didn’t begin with anything, Leila could maintain blasters, explosives and assassination equipment, but possessed no mechanical skills beyond that, while me…well, I possessed only what could generously be described as a basic understanding of ship maintenance.
I knew some things, mostly because I had spent enough decades around starships to absorb knowledge through sheer exposure, but for most of my life I had simply delegated such tasks to minions, treating the delegation of duties as an important leadership skill.
Unfortunately, I currently lacked anyone competent to delegate to, which left me attempting repairs personally.
Naturally, I resorted to cheating.
Allowing the Force to guide me, I moved around the damaged components, reconnecting circuits and shifting power relays into alligment without a clue whether my actions were correct, simply believing that the Force, having received my command, would serve me well in my current endeavour.
"I think..." I muttered as a shower of sparks erupted into my face. "...I think I almost have it."
The hyperdrive emitted a noise somewhere between a cough and a death rattle, which was almost definitely a sign of progress.
Victory seemed within reach, but then something brushed against my senses, the Force stirring at some distant presence.
Feeling that, I slowly withdrew from the machinery, greeted by Leila appearing from the closest corridor.
"My lord!" The Twi'lek skidded to a halt. "There is a ship approaching us!"
Well, it seemed the Force had finally decided to give me something to do.
***
As I returned to the cockpit, another vessel floated directly ahead of us.
The ship was surprisingly elegant for something that looked as though it had been assembled from spare parts. Its hull bore the scars of countless journeys, weathered plating covered a compact but capable frame, while twin engines glowed softly at the rear. Various modifications protruded from the hull at seemingly random locations, suggesting that multiple owners had improved the vessel over many years while possessing wildly different standards of engineering.
There was a strange charm to it, the vessel looking like an aging scoundrel who somehow survived long enough to become respectable.
In other words, it was almost certainly a pirate ship.
As the vessel slowed and stopped directly ahead of us, a transmission request appeared on the console. As I accepted it, a holographic figure materialized in front of us.
A smiling Weequay male appeared before me. He wore oversized goggles perched over his eyes, a broad hat sat atop his head, while jewelry gleamed from his ears, wrists and neck. Most importantly, he looked entirely too pleased with himself.
The moment the transmission connected, he burst into laughter.
"Ahahaha! Greetings, unfortunate victims!" The man declared, his grin widening as he pointed at us. "It is my greatest pleasure to inform you that you are about to be robbed by Hondo Ohnaka!" He spread his arms wide. "Pirate extraordinaire!"
***
So, that took a while.
You see, for a while I didn’t have any idea how to push this story into the arc I planned to write, which caused a hiatus. But I recently began to crosspost this story to Questionable Questing, which gave me motivation to give my next course of action a thought.
So, here it is. I will post the previous chapter a little later though, as I am still crossposting it on QQ and (maybe) I will write the second part of that chapter that concerns a Jedi shadow.