The atmosphere was fairly tense in the somewhat-grand dining hall of House Luwian’s estate, no matter how pleasant the music playing in the background, how magnificent the meal, or how easy-to-appreciate the company. Entirely my fault, of course, that air of tension, given my utter lack of communication with my Kela and my Nicky these last few months, followed by the manner -and the company- of my arrival. Of course, that silence was hardly my fault, Korriban’s rules being what they were, but I could have stood to communicate a bit better in the time since, and certainly not show up on my lover’s proverbial and near-literal doorstep with a passel of, if not problems, than at least changes.
Changes including, but not limited to, a millennia-old dashade shadow assassin, three new women that she’d never before met or vetted, and the Captain of the Imperial warship I’d essentially absconded with on the promise that she would pay for the upkeep and payroll of his ship and crew while trying to protect them from the wrath of one of the most powerful -and least pleasant- men in the whole of the Empire. And I wouldn’t doubt that she’d tell me, rather tartly I was sure, that I should have pushed Kilran harder, maybe even leaned into my connection with Darth Marr, to work things out. Which wasn’t necessarily an unreasonable point, but there were a few considerations.
First, I wasn’t sure how much name-dropping Marr would tolerate. He seemed to have a certain sort of fondness for me, and was certainly ‘watching my career with great interest’, to quote certain other Sith, but fondness and interest in my career likely didn’t go so far as getting him embroiled in a conflict with the Deputy Minister of War over a mission that was every bit as vital as Kilran had believed it was.
Secondly, and related to the first, was that -despite the fact that the man was an ass, and that it was still absurd that he’d given the Black Talon the task of completing a mission that a battlefleet had failed to accomplish- it had been a lawful order to a crew of the Imperial Navy that had been disobeyed. The fact that it had been disobeyed with good reason was irrelevant, especially in the Empire, and I didn’t doubt that Marr would agree as much on a professional level.
Thirdly, and more importantly, Kilran was going to be dead soon, and if I was able to strike the careful balance between impressing him with my audacity and pissing him off, it increased the chances that he wouldn’t have me and mine painted as targets before he shuffled off the mortal coil. Perhaps not the most Sithly thing to do, but I wasn’t a very good Sith anyway, and since one of my long-term plans was to make Sith more pragmatic and calculating rather than psychotic and brash, I rather needed to follow my own example. At least on occasion.
Fourthly, and perhaps most importantly, I wasn’t going to bite of more than I could chew. Maybe if it had been just me that the target would be painted on, I’d have risked it, but bringing something down on the family I had started to build for myself? Unacceptable.
Not that any of those were going to be good enough reasons to keep Nicky from being pissed off with me, though I did have to admit I was looking forward to the make-up sex that would inevitably come to pass. The very rough, passionate, not-quite-hate-but-definitely-not-lovey-dovey make-up sex.
For now, though, we all had to survive through to the end of dinner, something that would be a little complicated given the presence of Orzik, Sylas, and Vaenia, the former two rather more than the later given she was one of my girls. Not to the same level as Nicky, or where I hoped Lana would be, and probably not even at the same level I valued Kory, but one of mine all the same. And, frankly, I didn’t think my sweet little ensign was particularly interested in being one of my wives. I think that would strike her as far too much attention and responsibility at a level of society that didn’t appeal to her in the least. Which was entirely understandable and fair, if I was going to be honest.
I glanced over at where Vriska and Mako were sitting together and eating quietly, the polite look of attention on the Chiss woman’s face belying the calculation I could sense going on through her mental shields. That was another reason I was more than willing, and Nicky as well I would wager, to leave any important discussions by the wayside until we had some more privacy. Friendly though we were, Vriska was still very much not one of mine, an Agent of Intelligence, and for all I knew trended more towards the red than the blue when it came to her decision-making process. That wasn’t the impression I had of her, of course, but…well, I wasn’t arrogant enough to think myself infallible on that matter.
For a moment my mind went to Khem, and I couldn’t help but be grateful that he’d opted to go hunting for his own dinner. Dromuund Kaas being what it was, many of the animals that roamed the forests -such as the one near the Luwian estate- were heavily saturated with the Force, and while it wasn’t as good a meal as a Force user would be for him, it was a damn sight better than a raw steak. Besides, it wasn’t a bad idea to let him blow of some steam. After all, he hadn’t been terribly happy when I hadn’t given him the green light to go after Skotia. As tempting as it had been, and as willing to believe as I had been that he’d have been able to kill the man, I didn’t know how well received that would be.
In the secrecy, relatively speaking, of his quarters, that was one thing. In the middle of the arrival terminal at the spaceport? That was something else entirely, and I definitely didn’t think I had sufficient influence to get away with having my dashade eat a Dark Lord of the Sith in front of a few hundred people. Even if I wasn’t promptly executed, which wasn’t a guarantee regardless of how much evidence would be on my side, I wouldn’t be surprised if other Sith didn’t try to have me disposed of for getting ‘uppity’, or even just to contain the threat I would represent.
No, it was much better to just let things play out the way that they were supposed to, if only because letting Zash root out all of his hidden artifacts for me to make use of in the future was far more efficient than looking for them myself. Besides, as sure as I was that Khem could handle the man all by himself, what was the point in taking any risks? Zash had a weapon being designed to cripple his cybernetics already, and while I wasn’t adverse to dealing with things more directly when needed, I wasn’t stupid enough to pass up something guaranteed to put him on his knees.
Speaking of Zash, I was positive it wouldn’t be very long before she summoned me to get the ball rolling. She would be anxious to get her hands on Skotia’s office and all of it’s myriad artifacts, and anxious to get me into the Dark Temple as well. Unless she’d already retrieved the relic from Kallig’s tomb? With my restoring his senses to him, the corruptive effects on the people spread across the Temple’s grounds had been broken. Then again, even in the game he hadn’t been the only awakened Sith that had been mind-controlling people in and around the Temple, so it was certainly possible that the various other lords like Pharsol and Vacuous -talk about an unfortunate name there!- had still been woken and were still wreaking havoc, if on a smaller scale. I’d have to ask Nicky and Kela later on, get something of a heads-up on what I might be heading in to.
Skotia, The Dark Temple…what else would I have to worry about? The Trandoshans, I supposed, but I could probably convince Zash that I didn’t need to go hunting down the damn tablet and waste my time in the effort, not when I had Khem and not when I could -accurately, as it happened- point out that Skotia would never have bodyguards that could actually pose a threat to him.
Damn, there was The Mask of Revan and the Revanites, wasn’t there?
Shit, maybe…I couldn’t trust Vriska with that yet, could I? She was still too much of a question mark. Maybe I could task Nicky and Kory with that? Getting Kory into the Revanites might actually not be the worst idea in the world. If I could keep Revan from turning into a corrupted, genocidal maniac, that would make a lot of things much, much easier. No brutal civil war for the Empire or the Republic, no disaster on Yavin IV, potentially not even Ziost as well. And she’d get some good training amongst them as well. On the other hand, that would mean losing easy access to my Kory, at least until they trusted her enough to send her back to be a ‘hidden agent’ amongst the rest of us.
Fuck, I was going to have to talk this over with my girls. It was too big an opportunity to entirely ignore, but I wanted to make sure that we did it right.
“…did you come to meet Apprentice Khai, Captain?” my Nicky’s voice cut through my thoughts and I blinked, looking up from my contemplations to take the table in. Sometime during my reverie, it seemed, Kory had finished her story, and now it was the Captain’s turn.
“Well, it was my ship, the Black Talon, that brought her here My Lord, and I suppose I can say that we met properly at dinner. I invited her and her companions to join me for a meal while we were enroute from Vaiken, and we all spent some time speaking then.” Orzik, who I was probably never going to call by his first name, even in my own head, responded promptly and politely. An entirely honest answer, but a limited one, and Nicky seemed to know it, arching an eyebrow politely as a small smirk creased her lips.
“Captain, I’ve no doubt that she proved a scintillating conversationist, but I rather doubt that she was so fond of ship-board fare that she felt the need to take you into her service and bring you -not to mention these two lovely things you’ve brought with you- to meet with me. So why don’t you tell me the whole story from your perspective, and I shall compare it with hers when I speak with her later?” she said almost chidingly, and Orzik glanced at me with something resembling a request for permission in his eyes. I don’t think the slight toast with my wine glass that I gave in response was quite what he was looking for, judging by the subtle change in his expression and presence, but he turned back to my lover all the same.
“As you say, My Lord. It’s something of a complicated story, in some ways, and painfully simple in others. Grand Moff Kilran ordered my crew and I to intercept and engage the Brentaal Star, a Thranta-class, while we were enroute. Specifically, we were to either sink her and destroy any lifepods, or we were to board her, find a specific passenger aboard, and either execute or extract that prisoner.” he started, and Nicky’s second eyebrow joined the first as a small scoff left her lips.
“Captain, with all due respect, that is absurd. Your ship is a simple Gage-class, is it not?” she asked, the question less of a question and more of a statement, and when he nodded in agreement she gestured broadly with her own wine glass. “Far be it from me to question your skills or those of your crew, Captain. I can tell very well from your age and your rank that you likely saw combat before the Treaty, and the fact that you’re still alive and in command of your own ship indicates at least some competence.” she shook her head, even as he bowed slightly and murmured his thanks. “You didn’t have the firepower to sink a Thranta, and you certainly didn’t have the manpower required to storm one, never minding find one specific man aboard in a timely manner!”
“Which is precisely why I refused the order, My Lord, and the later knowledge we gathered -that an Imperial battlefleet, with at least three Harrowers, had tried and failed to complete the same mission had failed, thanks to Grand Master Shan herself- bore that decision out. However, the Grand Moff ordered Lady Khai and her companions to take control of the Black Talon and continue the mission regardless. When Lady Khai attempted to refuse as well, he informed them that he would ensure that my ship and everyone aboard her would die before reaching Dromuund Kaas if they did not carry out the mission.”
You didn’t have to be a Force sensitive to sense the sudden and precipitous drop in temperature -and rise in pressure- in the dining hall as Nicky absorbed those words. Her jaw tightened, the muscles in her neck following suit, and there was a soft crinkling crack, like ice under pressure, as a spiderweb of hairline fractures spread across it’s face.
“Grand Master Shan, you say? Satele Shan? One of the most powerful Jedi alive? She was in charge of this mission, and he ordered Vestara to engage with her?” she ground out the words, the Dark Side coiling within her as it fed on her anger and her fear, and I jumped in before anyone else could speak.
“Not quite. She was in charge of the fleet, but while her battlegroup held the Imperial fleet off, she sent the Brentaal Star ahead. It was still a risky mission, and I still had to fight a Jedi, but she was only a padawan and the ship was running off of a skeleton crew.” I hastened to reassure her, though the pressure of her presence didn’t lessen all that much, at least not immediately. “It was still a dangerous mission, but nowhere near as bad as all that. I handled the padawan just fine, Vriska and the others dealt with the target, and the Captain was already disengaging and spinning up the hyperdrive when Satele and the rest of her fleet jumped in.”
Nicky's gaze held on me for a long, searching moment, the kind of look that I knew all too well at this point in our relationship. The one that said I'm deciding whether to be furious or relieved, and you'd better hope I land on the right side of that. The cracks in her wine glass hadn't spread further, at least, which was probably a good sign.
Probably.
"A padawan, a trained Jedi. With you freshly off Korriban." Nicky repeated, her voice still that low, slow expression of rigid control and a very tightly held leash. "And a skeleton crew. On a Thranta-class cruiser. With Satele Shan bearing down on you."
"That about sums it up, yes."
"And you won."
"We did."
Nicky set down her damaged wine glass with exaggerated care, as if she was afraid that any further pressure would shatter it entirely -which very well might be the case, even if it was just as likely she was using the time such care took to maintain her self-mastery- before folding her hands over her stomach and tilting her head back, letting her eyes slide shut.
“Captain Orzik, you and your second in command must be exhausted from such a voyage. My servants will show you to your rooms. We will discuss matters further in the morning. Agent Vriska, unless you and your companion are required to be in Kaas City tonight, I would suggest you stay as well.” she intoned steadily, servants appearing out of the small corridors that they had doubtlessly been waiting in for just such a moment. “Yashia, Kory, Vaenia, you will be shown to a room in my wing of the manor by Kela. Make yourselves comfortable there, get to know each other.”
The dismissals, and that’s exactly what they were, were polite, calm, and utterly final. No one at the table could, or did, miss the undercurrent of the words, and it went without saying that no one was stupid enough to argue or attempt to demure. Orzik was the first to rise, inclining his head in a sharp and respectful military bow, Sylas half a step behind as they followed the slave responsible for guiding them from the room. Vriska and Mako were next, the Chiss woman offering me a glance that communicated something between sympathy, curiosity, and deep amusement before the two of them disappeared as well.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was Kory that lingered the longest, her eyes darting between Nicky and I with the expression of someone who desperately wanted to help but knew better than to try. As close as she was to me, and as much as I valued her company, she was still very much a stranger to the dynamic between Nicky and I, and she knew it. Which is why she didn’t try to resist when Yashia gently took her arm and guided her away, Vaenia trailing after them like a particularly nervous shadow.
Kela was the last to leave, and she paused at the doorway to give me a look that was equal parts warm and warning-sharp. A look that said, quite clearly, I'm glad you're home, I love you, and you're in trouble. Then she was gone, the door sliding shut behind her with a soft hiss that sounded entirely too final for something so mechanical.
Then everything was silent, leaving Nicky and I alone in a full void, and I wondered what I was supposed to do right now. Should I say something, explain all the reasons why this wasn’t my fault? Should I try to comfort her, clearly worried as she was? Should I make a joke to break the tension? Should I try to seduce her, help her relax before we got into the rough discussions?
“I knew, when you went to Korriban, that you would be putting your life at risk. That others would be putting your life at risk. I was…able to tolerate that, to accept it, because I knew it was something that you could handle. The trials would be something within your skills, within your power and ability, and even with this ‘Harkun’ Kory mentioned causing you trouble, you proved me right. You crushed the trials, surpassed them. Fought dozens of rebelling slaves, soldiers, even hacked droids. Outfought and out-thought other acolytes, in your pool and out.” she finally said quietly, before I could come to a decision, and I was gratified by the pride and affection in her words.
"But this?" Nicky continued, and her eyes opened, golden and sharp and glinting with a fury that was all the more terrifying -and attractive, I had to be honest about that- for how controlled it was. "This was not within your power. This was a Grand Moff pointing a gun at your head and telling you to throw yourself into a battle beyond your training and resources, and the only reason you survived is because the Republic happened to be running light! If they'd had a full crew aboard that ship, if they'd had a Knight instead of a Padawan, if Shan's fleet had arrived so much as ten minutes earlier—!"
"I know, love, I..." I murmured, reaching out in the Force to embrace her presence with my own, wincing slightly as ‘she’ writhed furiously in my grasp. Not hurting me, but not exactly sinking gently into ‘my’ proverbial arms, either.
"I know!" She repeated my words back to me, but where mine had been gentle and conceding, hers were edged with something raw, something that went beyond anger and into a place that I recognized all too well. Fear. The kind of fear that came from loving someone too much in a galaxy that seemed determined to take them away. "That you know. That you knew that this could happen. And I know that you tried to mitigate things, to argue against it, but I do not believe for a moment that you could not have avoided the entire situation if you had so desired it!”
“I could have, yes. I could have waited on Vaiken for an extra day or two, or tried to find an express shuttle. It might even have worked, though I wouldn’t count on it. But that would mean Captain Orzik and his entire crew would be dead, possibly Mako and Vriska as well, and the Empire would be weakened. The target was a big one, Nicky. Kilran might be a piece of shit, but he was right about that much.” I agreed and disagreed in the same moment, getting to my feet and starting to make my way down the table towards her. “So yeah, I could have just looked out for myself and left others to die attempting what I knew I could pull off. But that would have made me just like so many other people in this Empire, like your brother and his friends, and you wouldn’t have fallen in love with me if I was anything like them, right?”
Nicky's jaw worked again, the muscles in her throat shifting as she swallowed whatever retort had been forming. Her eyes tracked me as I approached, golden and bright and dangerous, but she didn't move from her seat. Didn't rise to meet me, didn't turn away. Just watched with the same unwavering hyperfocus that a predator might use when stalking it’s prey. Ironic, given that I was the one on the move.
"Do not," she said, the word clipped, precise, and utterly frigid. "try to make this about my feelings for you. I'm not some lovesick idiot you can disarm with pretty words and that damn fucking smile, Vestara."
"I know you're not. That's one of the reasons I love you, but would you be this bothered if you didn’t love me?" I asked as I stopped a few feet away, close enough to reach out and touch her but choosing not to. Not yet. Nicky needed space to be angry, needed to feel like she and her emotions were being respected rather than deflected or managed. She growled softly, presence crackling against mine, the hair on my arms standing on end as a result of the static-that-wasn’t. “None of the options were good, Nicky, so I did the best with what I could. I got through it, I’m okay, and I’m going to try and stay that way. And I promise you, I’m never going to take any bigger a risk than I need to. The last thing I want to do is leave you, any of you.”
“…hmph. Good.” she muttered after nearly two full minutes of silent, fuming contemplation, getting to her feet and giving my cheek a kiss before near-flouncing away as I tried to pull her into my arms, smirking at me over her shoulder. “I think not, Vestara Khai. If you wish to climb between any thighs tonight, you will be doing it in our rooms, and you’ll be doing it after you successfully seduce Kela and myself into spreading them for you. Consider it your penance.”
I watched her go, the sway of her hips deliberate and inviting even as the set of her shoulders broadcast that I hadn't quite been forgiven yet, and I couldn't help the mingled rueful and excited grin that spread across my face. Penance, she'd called it. As if seducing two beautiful women was any kind of punishment. Then again, knowing Nicky, the 'penance' wasn't the seduction itself but the fact that she intended to make me work for it, every step of the way, and would almost certainly have coached Kela to do the same by the time I arrived.
God damn, I loved this woman…
#####################################################################
By a strange coincidence, Darth Marr was -at the same moment that the dinner and discussion in the Luwian estate were taking place- looking over several files in the privacy of his quarters on his flagship, orbiting Dromuund Fels. Not quite so comfortable as his office in The Citadel, of course, but not far off, and infinitely more secure. His crew, his fleet, were utterly devoted to him, and while it was more than possible for bugs to be -and had been, in the past- slipped into his ground-side quarters, no one would dare even attempt to do so here aboard the Empire’s Grasp. And when he was dealing with and discussing matters regarding one Vestara Khai -apprentice, now, not merely a slave or an acolyte- he considered the paltry effort of an hour-long shuttle ride entirely worthwhile.
“Harkun’s distaste is blatantly obvious, and it’s quite obvious to me that he’s neglecting to give us all the details. Such as why two far lesser acolytes decided to attack someone far above them…” Corilla mused from across the room, her legs curled under her as she read through her own copy of some of the files, files from official and unofficial sources on Korriban, while dressed down comfortably. Comfortably enough that many would, and did, assume that she spent much of her time warming his bed, fools that they were. As if he would hamper her progress by reducing her to nothing more than a toy to entertain himself with. If he was ever to take another lover, it would be a woman grown and fully-developed in her training, someone sure of themselves and competent in their field, not someone still striving to grow.
“While foolish and obviously resulting in failure, it isn’t improbable for these twin acolytes to have decided on their own to eliminate their strongest rival. Desperation can make foolishness seem far more palatable, and they did wait for her to be in the middle of a grueling trial, by all accounts.” he reminded her, once again reflecting that she would not be truly ready for the duties Khai had forseen she would hold if she did not leave her iron-clad grip on incredulity behind her.
“Yes, Master, but I don’t think that’s the case this time.” she acknowledged and disagreed with the same breath, looking up at him with a thoughtful expression. “Two desperate acolytes waiting for a rival to be weakened and exhausted, then striking, that I can see. But so many slaves, from a group in the midst of a full revolt, assisting them? That makes considerably less sense, and while desperation makes strange bedfellows, it only does so when there is something to bargain with. Which means that the acolytes must have had something to offer the slaves, their enemies, in return for their aid against Khai.”
"Which is an astute observation, and one that could lead to interesting implications." Marr conceded, setting aside the datapad he'd been reviewing to give her his full attention. She was, after all, doing exactly what he had long trained her to do: think things through to the end, and consider all potential elements. Besides, he’d long since found that subordinates tended to fair better when you paid them due attention when they were saying something worth hearing. "Continue."
"Freedom, most likely. Or at least the promise of it." Corilla tapped the edge of her datapad against her knee, her brow furrowed as it always did when she was working through a thought process and hadn’t quite gotten it fully in hand. "The revolt was already underway, and had been for some time. Dozens dead on both sides. Those slaves had already committed to fighting and dying for their freedom, against the Academy which the acolytes were representatives of. They should have been trying to kill each other on sight, so if they didn’t, there had to be a mutual gain. Didn’t one of the files discuss the twins in greater detail?” he nodded. “It said they were mediocre at best, unlikely to succeed even in a more average acolyte pool?” a second nod, and she hummed softly to herself. “Based on his blatant dislike for Vestara and all of the other evidence we have here, I’m going to assume that Harkun told the twins that if they killed her, they could go home unharmed. I don’t know how they would have proven it to the slaves, but I’m willing to bet they extended to offer to them as well, convinced them to join in.”
"A reasonable hypothesis, certainly." Marr acknowledged, and he could see the faint flush of satisfaction that crept across Corilla's features at the measured praise, slight though it was. She was learning to read him better, which pleased him. Too many apprentices focused solely on power and neglected the art of reading people without using the Force to do it for them, a failing that got more Sith killed than lightsaber duels ever had. “And what does this hypothesis tell you?”
“Well, for one thing, Vestara is better than most acolytes. Overseers are never kind or gentle, but most acolytes don’t have their overseers actively trying to kill them. If Harkun was, then the fact that she survived in spite of his best efforts sets her apart.” Corilla paused, lips quirking a bit wryly. “More apart, rather. She was already quite different from anyone else I’ve ever met, free or slave alike. This is just another example of how different that she is.”
“And for the other?” he prodded when she fell silent for a long moment, and she hummed again before shrugging lightly.
“For another, I suppose we need to keep an eye on Harkun, and the Overseers in general. If we’re going to expand the acolyte pools, welcome more people into our ranks, we need to make sure that our overseers are not…well, I hate to use the word cheating, but as harsh as the trials are meant to be, the overseers shouldn’t be putting their hands on the scale.” she struggled slightly to explain, quite clearly to his eyes, but he understood the gist of what she was saying all the same, and he didn’t disagree. Being a Sith wasn’t -and never had been- a matter of fairness, but there was a difference between encouraging struggle and quashing talent in the crib because it didn’t have a bloodline you approved of. “Even with you supporting this program, Master, I’m afraid of what they, and others, might try to pull. It’s already suspicious enough that Baras has latched onto the Beniko girl, given what we’ve heard about the last two acolytes of his pool.”
“Suspicious, perhaps, or she is simply superior to the other potential acolytes. Much like Khai, she has been receiving preliminary training with the Luwian girl.” Marr pointed out, having received extensive reports as such from his agents in that house, agents that Asmu-Nikal had been bluntly told would be present. Her kin being responsible for opening the Dark Temple, and the events centered around Vestara Khai that had happened as a result, had made it not just a guarantee, but a necessity. “I’m far more interested in the events of the Brentaal Star than in Baras’ potential attempts at revenge. Jadus has much to explain about this defector’s near success, and Kilran has more still. Titan, Praetor, and Behemoth will be in space-dock for months with repairs, and at least three of their escorts will need to be scrapped entirely. Nearly a thousand dead members of the Imperial Navy and Marines as well, and yet he could not prevent the escape of a single Thranta.”
“And then he sent a single transport ship and a handful of rookies -the Chiss isn’t even a Cipher yet!- to board said Thranta, pitting at best a dozen Marines and half-a-dozen or so rookie specialists against a crew of hundreds!” Corilla growled, swiping at her datapad as she changed to the relevant reports, her presence darkening in response. “The fact that it was running on a skeleton crew for InfoSec is the only reason any of them are alive, never mind succeeding in their mission!”
“I rather think a good portion of the problem is the fact that Kilran and several of his ships were off chasing ‘Ambassador’ Vyn Asara.” Marr didn’t growl himself, but the air was noticeably cooler around him as he scrolled through the report again. “Putting aside the fact that using a Harrower and it’s escorts on such a mission is an absurdly wasteful allocation of resources, putting aside the loss of an entire Mandalorian strike team, putting aside the loss of a Sith apprentice, there is the fact that dealing with a seditionist such as she is the responsibility of Intelligence, or at least a member of the Assassinorum. Not a Grand Moff, not the Deputy Minister of War, and not in the manner he performed the mission. The man is a a brilliant strategist and tactician, but if he is beginning to let personal goals -or his own pride- override considerations of the Empire as a whole, I will be…displeased.”
Corilla grunted softly in agreement, both of them well aware that such ‘displeasure’ could quite possibly be fatal. While Marr was not capricious like other Sith, not prone to slaughtering subordinates at the drop of a hat, one of the things that did tend to earn summary execution were things he deemed weakened the Empire. The results of Kilran’s actions over the last few days most certainly could be considered to have qualified for such a thing.
Neither of them commented on the irony most would find in a Sith commenting -nigh on complaining- about someone putting personal goals and pride above the proverbial greater good. Of course, neither of them were entirely typical amongst the Sith, which was a better part of the reason for the lack of commentary.
“Well, regardless of what you do end up doing, Master, I should think some punishment is warranted. Reassigned to a post that isn’t entirely insignificant, but isn’t glamorous or glorious, for a time at the very least. Being in charge of a garrison squadron or something of the sort. Something to remind him of who and what he is.” she finally said after a long, long moment, and Marr tapped his desk thoughtfully for a moment.
“A surprise inspection and over-haul of the Maelstrom Prison, perhaps.” he suggested, lips quirking slightly in amusement. “A greater honor, of course, to be responsible with the security and integrity of the Empire’s greatest prison. We would be remiss to give the task to a lower-ranked, less-competent man, one who might lack the skill and wisdom required to ensure it remains inescapable.”
“Artful, Master. Perhaps you should have joined the diplomatic corps instead.”
“Bite your tongue, girl, and mind your cheek. You are not a Lord yet.”
“Yes, Master, of course. My most humble apologies, Master.”
The pair, each smiling in their own way at the comfortable, near-familiar banter between them, left conversation aside and returned to their duties in earnest, each doing their part to ensure the Empire and it’s people remained safe, stable, and secure. To them, and those like them, there was no higher calling, and it was a calling they took very seriously.
And why wouldn’t they? Without the Sith, the Empire was nothing. And the Sith? Without the Empire, they were one more cult wandering the void between the stars, fading away like stellar dust on a solar wind.