Yours.. for a bargain price! (complete)

[Sibylle]

The place had the most horrendous smell ever, sweat, rotten fish and decay. Of course, most of what she had seen lately of this side of the island was a derelict place of filth and human scum. She had been living a peaceful life in the jungle, with the natives that had raised her. Early on in life she had been trained by the tribal shaman to "see" into the future. She knew this had been coming and knew that despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop it. She would be sold at the Aqualish slave market, to a madman.

She tried in vain to slink back into the recesses of the tent where she, and the other slaves were being kept. One by one the other humans were led out by the chains they all bore around their necks. She could hear the shouts, the bidding and the applause. Girls were being stripped of their clothing and "appraised". She didn't think she could bear the shame if that was to be her fate. Even though she knew that it was pointless to fight destiny, she wasn't going without a fight.

When they came for her and grunted for her to get to her feet, Sibylle shrunk back even further and shook her head. She was yanked to her feet causing the chain around her to dig even deeper into her skin. She smelled blood. She was dragged through the tent flap and shoved out onto the ramshackle stage, before the group of "clients".

The human auctioneer sneered at her and tilted her face up to his. "Hallo there pretty! Why don't you stand up on that barrel so they can see you in the back. Be a good girl and show em your goods, won't ya?"

She moved as if in compliance and in a sudden fury, lifted her knee to his groin and tried to bolt. She was stopped short by another yank on her shackles, this one brought a tear to her eyes. Pulled back to the auctioneer, her face was pressed close to his, she could smell his awful fishy breath. "Wrong answer, love" He backhanded her to the floor and she was hauled to her feet and lifted so that all could see her now bloody nose, and the rest of her..

He shouted in basic to the leering crowd "A spitfire! Although she is a pretty thing, this one is worth the high price we have on her. She has 'the sight' or so they say. She is a Seer and can tell you about the future, the past, hell she can tell you anything you want to know, so she is quite a buy! Shall we start the bidding?"

[Vega Van-Derveld]

It had become apparent, to Vega Van-Derveld, that seizing control of the galaxy was not a task lightly undertaken by one man. For all his power in the Force continued to grow daily, he found that this strength alone was not enough to accomplish his goals. To succeed, he would require help. He had begun searching for likely candidates to train and mould in his own image, but those worthy of such attention were few and far between. It was this search that had lead him here, to a slave auction. There were rumours of Force sensitives being sold alongside the plebeian stock, and so Vega thought it only wise that he should investigate and potentially invest in some new blood.

The auctioneer presented one of these gifted young individuals to the crowd, complete with a newly bloodied nose. He said that she had 'the sight'. This was the lot that the Dark Jedi had been waiting for. Quickly, the bids began to flood in. Vega's dead eyes moved between the hands that shot in the air. There was a group of men, all vying for her, and no doubt for less than noble reasons. Van-Derveld doubted that anyone present had a more pressing purpose for this Seer than he did. No, they would prefer to use her body instead of her mind. Vega, of course, would use both.

His skill in influencing others was not yet fully sharpened, but it was enough that he could silence some of the most vocal buyers. As he began his own bidding, the other less tenacious candidates took one look at him and started entertaining thoughts of backing down. There was something menacing about him, something that suggested that he wouldn't take at all kindly to loosing. One bidder, however, would not be so easily swayed. In the end it fell to Vega to up the stake substantially, far beyond the meagre pocket change that these small-time buyers possessed. Little did they know that Van-Derveld had barely a credit chit to his name, but all that was a moot point. He would pay the auctioneer in blood, instead.

[Sibylle]

A part of her wanted to believe that things would go differently today. Maybe the dark stanger that remained faceless in her thoughts would not come. Not likely. She knew better than most that some things were just fate and could not be altered. A new chapter in her life was beginning and she could either fight it and snap like like the bough of a mighty tree, or accept her fate and allow it to bend, but never break her.

The auction continued to loose steam. One by one her would be buyers were all shot down, or just plain left with looks of frightened defeat on their faces. Just who was buying her..?

"SOLD!"

She was yanked down and dragged away without even seeing the face of her new owner. She was being processed, her filthy clothing ripped from her and replaced with an equally shoddy, but at least clean shapless dress. She was apparently going to remain barefoot and shackled, for the trouble she had caused. Her face was quickly wiped free of blood, but the nasty scratches on her neck from the chain couldn't be helped, not without removing it, which they would not do.

"Yer, gent paid a mighty high price for ye. I'd suggest you give him what he wants, whatever perversion it is he bought ye for. Otherwise, he may return ye and then you'll be right back here with me, and you know what happens to returned slaves? They become mine.."

"Well, then I'll either submit and be what he wants, or make him irate enough to kill me. For you truly are a fate worse than death, you horrid.. smelly.. disgraceful..."

Her words continued, each one more vile and distasteful until a resounding slap was heard.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Keep your hands to yourself, old man, or I'll chop them off.” The voice that spoke was metallic and wholly inhuman, synthesized by a voice box. The auctioneer grunted, a frown cutting his brow as he looked towards the buyer, newly emerged from the crowd. He wore black, and a slight sneerl curled his lips. “I don't want my goods damaged.”

[Sibylle]

So here he was at last. Mr. Fate, had just made himself known for the first time. Well? There was no time like the present!

She didn't waste a minute on studying him. That would have seemed rude. At this point she didn't really care who he was, or what he had bought her for. He was getting her out of here, so if that meant stroking his ego in front of the auctioneer, she'd do it. The man owned her and would take her away from this place. She'd pay him back with obidience, for now.

Sibylle yanked her chain out from the grasp of the pig that had just hit her for the last time. Proud, even with the handprint marring her cheek, she walked over to her new master and meekly offered him the chain, her blue eyes silently speaking to him of her desire to leave with haste.

"Master.. thank you for purchasing me. I shall endeavor to please you."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

With one cold hand, he turned the chin of his new acquisition upwards, so that he might better inspect the hand print on her cheek. Without releasing the girl, Vega looked sidelong to the auctioneer, the frown not leaving his face. “She had better work as you said she would.”

The old man, soured, gave a snort. “Does just what it says on the label. Soooo then, about the payment...”

Now his hand fell away from her. Instead he took hold of the chain, wrapping the links once around his knuckle to get a better grip. “I think you'll find I've already paid,” Van-Derveld said, his tone commanding, persuasive.

[Sibylle]

Frozen still, she didn't speak as her new Master looked her over. She could feel his displeasure, as what he viewed already as his property had been slightly damaged. She didn't know anything about the man, not yet, but she had the feeling that he would very much like to kill the man who had hit her. Kill him, in a very bloody, very violent manner.

As for her. She already knew that he was buying her for a purpose. He wanted something found. She would bet on that. Well, she'd find it, but he'd have to get used to the... particulars of her talent. The only problem that she could forsee was, he didn't seem a patient man.

He released her and took her chain up in his fist. She moved to follow him out. He was halted by the words of the slave trader.

"Ye didn't pay me, and you aren't leaving here until you do. Not with her. So pay up, or get out and I'll take the price I could have got from another gent, out of her hide.."

Her owner stopped. He hadn't turned yet, but she knew when he did it wasn't going to be a calm exchange of funds.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Oh.” The chain slipped from his grasp. Slowly, Van-Derveld turned. A look of distrust came over the auctioneer, as if he could tell what was coming.

“My apologies. Here, let me give you what you rightfully deserve.”

Vega held out one open palm – yet it was empty. Now the auctioneer frowned. With deliberate slowness, he began to curl his fingertips inwards. As each finger closed into a fist, a feeling of slight dizziness, of unusual pressure, began to exert itself upon the auctioneer. He coughed once, twice, then began to strike his own solar plexus, as if trying to dislodge something from his throat. Quickly beginning to panic, his frantic eyes looked between Van-Derveld and the slave girl, as he strained for the breath denied to him.

[Sibylle]

She watched on in mingled fear and fascination. The man who had tormented her for so long was being slowly choked to death right before her eyes. She didn't move to help him. She wouldn't call for help. Her owner wanted him dead, it was her place to agree with her Master, not question him. A corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile. He wouldn't be hurting her, or anyone ever again.

She took in a longer perusal of her new owner, who still remained nameless. He didn't appear completely..well. He had a look about him that she had seen once before. A Shaman from a visiting tribe had been brought to her village for care. He seemed to be slowly decaying from the inside out. The villagers had said he had become one with the evil spirits and they were claiming his flesh..

Snapped back to the present, she watched the body fall to the floor. She quickly looked away, not from fear, from respect. It was not her place to question such things.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

For a lingering moment, Vega stood over the fallen body of the auctioneer, looking down into his bulbous eyes. He snorted and turned, seizing the chain to hand once more. “Come.” Their exit was swift. There was little else Vega required from the backwater hell-hole he currently found himself in. The corpse would be found soon and hadn't the patience to spend his afternoon trifling with the local law enforcement.

“What is your name, girl?” he asked, while stalking towards the ship ahead, some short distance away.

[Sibylle]

Keeping up with his long legged stride was not as easy as she would have liked. Sibylle did her best though, sprinting on the balls of her feet. She still hadn't been given anything to wear for shoes, and it would seem that time was now a great factor. She wasn't a simpleton, she knew that she had not been bought. She had been stolen, killed for. She could only speculate as to why. It made little difference to her, either way, she was now his property. He would get her out of here and she wouldn't give him any trouble. Simple.

"Sibylle... Master." Her soft spoken voice enunciated the three syllables clearly for him, Si-bell-ah. She did not yet know his name, but she was sure when he wanted her to know it, she'd be informed. As they approached the ship, she didn't seem overly concerned with leaving, if anything she seemed ...eager.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

They boarded the ship quickly. Besides wanting to be free of the drenhole of a planet, Vega had places to be and people to see. He was in the process of tracking down his errant Rebel of a sister, and this seer girl would hopefully prove helpful in speeding that process up, for starters.

With the entry ramp hissing closed behind them, Van-Derveld lead his acquisition through the narrow hallways of his craft. “You may only enter the areas of the ship that I indicate,” he explained, then showing her first to a small bunk area, then to the larger common room.

“You are a slave, but in time – and with loyalty – you may earn my respect and gain further privilege's. Do you understand?”

[Sibylle]

While her Master was showing her about and explaining her lot to her, Sibylle was growing more and more curious. He really didn't seem so bad. Granted he had just killed someone. Yet, on the other hand he was offering her a better life and rewards for good behavior. Would a monster do that?

"Yes, Master. I understand. "

Although she had been crudely washed up and dressed upon her "sale", she still felt like she had been dragged across the floor of the auction house. The smell of misery and the filth of other bodies seemed to cling to her. It could have just been her imagination. She hated the shapless bag she was wearing. She was used to running about in cropped off shirts and loose fitting skirts. The material was chafing her skin and her feet were filthy from the hasty exit from the market. She was, in a word, a mess.

She would not complain though. She would not speak a word of her discomfort. She knew somehow that as a possesion of this man, he would see to it that she was properly equipped, at his own convinience. She could wait..

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“While we are flying, you will accompany me in the cockpit...” Vega paused and looked the girl up and down. “There is a sonic shower in your bunk room. Clean yourself up. I'll find you some more suitable attire while you're busy.”

[Sibylle]

A sonic shower! She hadn't used one in years. She'd had to make do with the local river system. She was already up out of her seat. She was going to be clean!

"Thank you.." She humbly backed out of the room and made her way to the bunk he had designated for her. She'd been instructed to leave her clothes, so they could be destroyed. Apparently he really hated them as much as she did.


After her shower, she looked around her bunk, expecting to see a replacement for her now missing clothes. Nothing jumped out at her announcing "Here I am Sibylle! Wear me!". She really wasn't meant to wear a towel into the cockpit, right? Finally she opened a small wardrobe and found a black long sleeved shirt on a peg. It wasn't what she was expecting, but it would modestly cover her nearly to her knees. Maybe that's all he had available at present?

Slipping into the shirt, she had to roll the sleeves up several times to get them to stay at her wrists. She was still barefoot, but that was nothing new to her. She gave herself a quick once over, making sure she was presentable. Sibylle was happy with the results. The sonic waves had rid her of years of jungle grime and her hair seemed a whole shade lighter, her skin more clear and over all she was happy. With a smile and hope for her new circumstances, she made her way to the cockpit and stopped when she came face to face with her Master.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

As Vega turned, Sibylle saw that in his hands he held a bundle of clothing. He froze as his eyes fell on her. She had found one of his shirts, thinking it to be what he intended her to wear. Cleaned up as she was, he saw that beneath all of the grime there lay a moderately attractive face. His nostrils flaring in slight distaste, he suppressed whatever animal desires the girl might have evoked in him and threw the clothing in his hands at her feet. “Have some modesty, slave. You are my servant, not my concubine.”

[Sibylle]

She could not have possibly been more uncomfortable if the ship suddenly grew infested with stinging flies. Her skin flushed pink when she first saw the bundle of clothes. It grew completely scarlet that he though she had dressed that way to provoke him. She wanted to cry, or to run, or both. She did neither. Sibylle slowly picked up the clothes and clutched them to her chest protectively as if it could somehow hide her.

"My deepest apologies, Master. I found this and thought you had left it."

Keeping her eyes downcast, Sibylle backed herself into the room she had just exited and slid the door closed. Her heart felt as if it would slam through her ribs, it was racing so hard. She was in fact, completely terified. Sliding down to sit with her back to the door, she drew in deep ragged breaths and, at length, calmed herself. She got dressed, replacing the shirt exactly as she had found it and made her way to the cockpit. She said absolutely nothing, not willing to risk angering him further.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

They traveled in silence for a time, with Vega's eyes remaining focused upon the stars ahead. After a time, however, he seemed to grow restless. The vastness of space could only entertain him for so long.

“Girl,” he addressed her. “Tell me of how you came into that slavetraders ownership.”

[Sibylle]

"The Mahutari, the tribe that adopted me when I was small, they suffered many losses in battle with another tribe. As a result when the slavers came, the Mahutari were unable to completely fight them off. Some of the tribe was taken, including myself."

She paused, uncertain of how much of an answer her master wanted. She had explained how she had become a slave, promptly. But did he want to know more? Sibylle had been too shy to speak, but he had broken the silence. That didn't mean he wanted a conversation though, just that he wanted an answer to the question. She was unsure how to proceed.

She was just going to have to ask, until she learned more about him. Her voice, audible but just barely, came out shyly. "Did you wish to know more, Master..?"

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Oh, my heart bleeds for you... Vega rolled his eyes and shifted, out of annoyance, in his chair. “Not especially, but we have hours to pass and the silence bores me more than any prattle you might come up with. Carry on your peasants tale, girl.”

[Sibylle]

"During the attack, there was a lot of blood. That was when I knew that I would be taken. I wasn't afraid though. I knew that I wouldn't be long at the auction house."

She knew her words made absolutely no sense at all. Before he had a chance to yell at her again, for making no sense, she continued. She tried to explain the particulars to him, as best as she could understand them herself.

"My visions are triggered by violence. They have been, since I was a child and my family left me with the Mahutari. At least I think they left me. The Shaman raised me from then on and I was.. tutored for the sight, by witnessing rituals for battle and the like."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Tutored?” Van-Derveld repeated. “Does that mean you no longer need to witness violence to experience the... visions?”

[Sibylle]

"I.. I don't really know, Master." She seemed apprehensive about the subject, but to please him she continnued.

"Warfare and torture were common with the Mahutari. I was frequently subjected to bloodshed, and only afterword recieved my training. The Shaman believed that consuming the souls of those he called enemy gave him their strength.. I can only tell you that my visions began in blood and that is how I have them still. Some would call it a curse." She shrugged a shoullder as if it didn't bother her.

"It is a way of life in the jungle. Kill or be killed. It is all I know, simple as that. "

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“You are fortunate, then, in the company you keep,” Van-Derveld replied, a dark smile turning up the corners of his pale lips. “You will not want for blood so long as you remain at my side.” The seeds of corruption had been laid in her. All that was needed was some nourishment, which Vega could easily provide. “Tell me, have you ever killed a man?”

[Sibylle]

Her eyes, which had been obediently downcast, glanced to his face. She hadn't even begun to tell him of the horrors that she had seen and done. She didn't think he would judge her too harshly. Even though she had been an adopted child of the tribe, her compliance with their ways saved her life. Had she resisted, she would have suffered greatly.

In the end it was a matter of staying alive. Not much different then her fate now, she could submit to this man of face what he was capable of firsthand. Her desire for self preservation always seemed to win out.

"Yes.."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Continue...” Van-Derveld commanded, now not entirely convinced that the girls coy exterior was a faithful image of her true nature.

[Sibylle]

Had the questioning come from anyone else, she might have been a tad defensive about her deeds.. Once again she felt as though she was not being judged and if anything, the truth would serve her best.

"It was an honor to sacrificially kill the warriors taken in raids, an honor I earned. One of my duties was to cut the still beating hearts from their chests. They were bound of course, I was not strong enough to take down an enraged warrior. I was not at a level for the rest of the honors yet, however. That was reserved for the Shaman alone."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“How did it make you feel, to hold their heart in your hands?”

There was a grim fascination in Vega's expression as his eyes searched the girls face.

[Sibylle]

Folding her hands in her lap, she looked down at them as if they held a keen interest for her. "I would suppose that I felt.. powerful. To watch the life leave the eyes of something so strong, something that could have easily killled me. To know that I was the reason for the sudden stillness. It was a great honor to be the instrument of such a thing.."

She looked up. "I remember life before the tribe. I know that such things are considered depraved by most. Perspective changes when you have little choice, but I did enjoy my time with them."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Know this: if you serve me well, I can give you the power to do that again... only you will have no need for your opponent be restrained; you will overwhelm them yourself.”

It was a tantalizing offer and one that he doubted the girl would be inclined to refuse. While he had no intention of making good on it just yet, perhaps in time he would educate her in the ways of the Force. Until that day came, the mere promise of it would be enough to maintain her loyalty.

[Sibylle]

It was a wicked thing to say, but she wasn't shocked. Instead she thought about what he was saying. Give her the means to be stronger, to not have to fear fate because she could design it for herself. It was not something she had expected, not while her position was that of a slave. She again wondered what kind of man owned her, what secrets were kept locked behind his completely unapproachable exterior.

He didn't seem shocked by anything she had told him. She was pleased that she had no reason to feel guilt about her past with him. Sibylle wondered what he would think of some of the other things she had witnessed and done.

She wondered again what he wanted her for..

[Vega Van-Derveld]

She had given no reply, yet he sensed something was just on the tip of her tongue. She bristled with a kind of nervous excitement. “Do you have something you want to say? You have permission to speak, girl.”

[Sibylle]

She bit back on the topic of the honors reserved for her mentor that Shaman. Some things were just too personal to discuss during one's first conversation. If he asked, she would of course comply with his desires and tell him, but unless prompted that information would stay with her.

She wondered just how much freedom to speak she had and elected to test the waters. He didn't seem the kind to have much use for timid females.

"Might I ask why I was purchased, since I know I am not to be your concubine." He had made that fact crystal clear for her.. Her cheeks heated with the reminder of her blunder. She was horribly curious about what her duties were to be.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“I have an old friend I wish to find, and intend to make use of your... unique talents in finding her.”

Turning away, he reclined in the flight chair, kicking his boots up onto a clear space on the control panel.

“I wouldn't want them to go to waste in the hands of some lecherous spacer.”

[Sibylle]

She shuddered in revulsion, thinking of the slave master's promises to her. If she had not been bought, she would have been his. He would have defiled her body with glee and either taken her life, or made her wish he had. Actually...

Sibylle eyed up her Master again. He had not purchased her, he had stolen her.. and she was glad. She hoped that she could give him the answers he was looking for. For both of their sakes.

"Thank you.. for that."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“You can thank me by giving me your all. So long as you continue to do that, you will be safe.. but if it transpires that you cannot help me, or you refuse to help me, then I have no qualms with assigning you a fate far worse than spending your life pleasuring some greasy old man.”

Vega now closed his eyes and collected his thoughts.

“Now... your visions. How clear are they? Are they focused on random events, or do you have some control over what you see?”

[Sibylle]

She winced a bit. It was hard for her to say really. She speculated on some things the Shaman had told her.

You have no vision without her. She is the one with the power. You are her Mouth. You utter what she wants us to know.

None of it made the least bit of sense to Sibylle at first. The blood almost always sent her into what she had assumed was a trance. It was only later after a tribe member had pointed at her and called her the Mahutari word for "possessed" that she began to suspect. Something else inside her had the visions, that was why they were so vague to her but clear to others. Her lips spoke the words, but it was not her..

"I am sure that it would be easier experienced than explained, Master. My memories of the events are very vague. I require someone to be present and interpret for me. I am not usually.. in control." She didn't fear that the results would displease him, she was told she was quite good. She only hoped she would get the chance and not wind up suffering his "fates worse than death".

[Vega Van-Derveld]

His eyes still closed, Vega smirk slightly. “I see... We're on route to a primitive world by the name of Nelvaan. We can have a demonstration of your abilities once we arrive there. I am assuming that I would be able to 'interpret' your visions for you?”

[Sibylle]

"I believe so, yes. I am told I am quite clear. I just don't recall much personally." She was a bit worried. Once more, not that she doubted in her ability or in the validity of what she could reveal, but she had been called crazed, possessed.. She had no idea what to tell her Master to expect.

"Someplace private might be a wise choice. I'm not certain what will happen. I know that I have woken up restrained, drugged and bruised on occaison."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Containing you is well within my powers,” Vega countered, his eyes opening with an accusing glare, at the mere suggestion that he would not be able to handle whatever the girl could throw at him. Nostrils flared, he looked away, to the stars then the control panel in front of him.

“If you need to rest, I suggest you do so now. We have one hour until we reach Nelvaan.”

[Sibylle]

Sibylle knew her words had angered her Master yet again. She was truly not trying to tempt his vexation. She hadn't meant to imply that he couldn't handle her in her altered state, only that she may cause a disturbance that he wouldn't want made public. Given his ability to kill without thought of consequence, she would bet he was a wanted man someplace. With a gulp she closed her eyes and tried to relax. Not long after, her head rolled back as she nodded off.

She dreamed of colors. White everywhere. Never ending sea's of white, spotted with red. The spots quickly bled into rivers. Rivers of blood. Blood and snow.