Those who follow, those who lead... [COMPLETE]

[Sin]

He was unable to prevent his focus from falling upon the debris and filth that permeated every molecule of the room he now found himself residing within, the ruby prisons which constrained his vision moving to and fro ever so gently to take in his fellow residents. Smugglers, pirates or worse crowded into every disgusting seat available. Had it truly come to this, to flee so far into the darker places away from the cradle of civilization, or those hives and mocking towers that the wallowing plague-bearers had deceived themselves into believing were civilization?

Nay, in truth, despite the grime and grit - the physical disgust that simply sitting within this den of fear and horror brought upon him - it was far more honest than any ivory construct to be found in the Empire's crown. He detested, despite the truth that shone in this place, that he had been driven here. That odorous youth, Palidax, had failed in the most basic, rudimentary and menial task that Sin could have given him. All that Sin had required from that boastful amoeba was that it DIE. Alas, it seemed even the most elegantly simple function of life, to cease, was beyond that disappointing vermin's capabilities. The method had been tried and true, failure was an improbability bordering on the impossible, as it had succeeded in each prior experience. Palidax simply had to arrive at a designated location at the proper hour, and then the beauty of death and of fire would cleanse away a small portion of the worthless inhabitants that stained the universe. Sin's enjoyment would have come with the final breath upon the cankerous lips of that foul-mouthed beast that had plagued him, and then sweet emptiness where Rev Palidax had once stood.

Instead the boy had arrived early, deposited his delivery and left, no doubt to find some hole to crawl into and rut about in. The news feed had lit up with the act, shrill cries of terrorism and of the proponent of such monstrosity having been brought into the Empire's custody. Sin's place on the principle worlds had evaporated in a mere moment with that reveal. The shattered remains of the Emperor's fever dream, his Empire, would wring every drop of information from that worm they could manage, and as such it was time to press boot to ground and abandon his residence within Imperial space, at least until he no longer need fear the recent memories of those who would crave his eradication.

To the forgotten places, then, Sin had traversed. It was upon these orbiting infestations that he now found himself. Socorro he believed they called this one. The name felt like a dagger upon the tongue, fitting perhaps, that it was here he found the girl. He pulled his attention from the sick that spread throughout the room and to the dais before him. There stood, as if awaiting an organ grinder so he may begin a dance for coin and treat, a beast in tattered formal wear. The master of ceremonies for this accursed event, preparing to auction off the sentient cattle that were restrained in cages and bindings behind him. Past him, however, was her - he didn't know her name, nor did he particularly care to discover it. What mattered was what, not whom, she was. An adept with gifts in the Force, strong enough to draw him like a moth to flame.

The poor little wretch did not even realize that with her siren song she had brought about her own demise. He entertained the notion of simply purchasing her, but that would not do - it would fail to create the loyalty or devotion that he would require from her. No, he must be her rescuer, her hero, her savior. Fall behind me, little dove, I shall protect you from the evils that crash upon your gentle form - so that my own evils may overtake you. He would begin once more, a new 'apprentice' who would serve faithfully until her end. A final, explosive period upon the sentence of her life.

[Lyydea Amarra]

I could feel them, their eyes tracing my skin, their mouths turning up in pleasure at the thoughts that I put into their heads. I didn't mean to put them into their heads, I never meant to. I fidgeted again, my hands playing at the hem of the filthy dress they allowed me to wear, it had been a beautiful blue once upon a time, but now it was a mottled brown and grey. Its luster had worn away from years of disrepair and stains. Maybe the next one would at least allow me to wash it. It had been so pretty once.

Too old. Too old. Too old. Was I too old? Would no one want me? My last owner had said I was boring, that I was worthless because I was too old. He'd sold me as soon as he found something younger. I had never really thought 15 was too old, but he had. When he'd stopped paying attention to me it had been a relief, his hands no longer on my pretty dress, pulling and tearing. I had been so happy. But then the food had stopped and no one even looked at me. Weeks of being completely alone, no matter who was in the room with me, I would have begged for his touch just to feel something.

Then I was here, and I was fed, and I was looked at, and I was happy, and I smiled, and it was good. Now all I had to do was smile more, and be happy and maybe someone else would own me, someone who would look at me, and tell me I wasn't too old, and let me clean my pretty blue dress. The auctioneer pulled me up, the hem of my dress falling from my fingers as I was put in front of the potential buyers, and I looked up with my bright, white smile shining at them. I heard the auctioneer speak, even if it didn't matter what he said.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen! A rare treat, this beautiful young Zeltron has only one previous owner, and is only..." he smiled, and grabbed my face, pulling it forward to get me to exaggerate my smile even wider. I relented, smiling as wide and as pretty as I could, it hurt, but it was important. Important things hurt. That's what he told me before. "a little broken in. Do I have an opening bid of 500?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Slavers. Lilaena felt her lip curl with distaste as she walked among the throngs, her hood pulled well over her head. She did not stand out - many gathered were cloaked against the dust of the planet, and a little anonymity went a long way in this sort of company. Beside her, Jeng sauntered, his own hood hanging against his back, revealing a shock of blond hair that was cut close to the skin on the sides. His face was well browned by Onderon's sun, and handsome by any measure. Under his voluminous cloak one could just make out the Mandalorian armor as he walked, though he wore no helmet.

For her own part, Lilaena wore a simple wrap tunic and pants, an obi tied over top and emphasizing her slim waist. She found a spot near the middle of the crowd, facing the 'stage' where the souls were trotted out for sale. The Zeltron up there now was a slip of a girl, her smile as fake as they came. Lilaena had perused the 'merchandise' earlier, finding a few force adepts among the unfortunate. This girl was one of them - she had not even had to try hard to find her ability of knowing kicking in and letting her know yes, the girl was an adept. She raised her hand. "500."

[Sin]

He had woven schemes and intricacies as deep and as wide as an overflowing sea. Every contingency, each possibility, the smallest of minutia had been expected and prepared for, the scene that would occur would be brief, with the girl in tow as they fled after the riotous arrangements that were in motion.

The right credits in the right hands would make his acquisition of the little flower easy, even as it appeared to her, as if he had fought through Hell itself to rescue her. That had been the arrangement. However fate had a far more interesting twist in mind. Sin felt it, like the gentle waves crashing against his psyche as a pair had pushed through the throng of disgusting vermin to find seats, and a moment later it was there. Barely an echo against his senses, but there nonetheless. The Force, raw and pure, and seething with distaste and very, very apparent in its strength. His vision tilted, the muscles of his neck moving slowly to focus on the female and her companion that sat several rows in front of his being.

What are you? the words crashed down upon his mind as he considered them. She was not a player in this act, at least she had not been in the version he had written. That made her something beyond his control, something interesting. His vision shifted once more, turning the other direction as consideration boiled within him. Rewrites to this little story were necessary, and a burning curiosity to discover what was at foot ate at his core. No assault on the flea on stage, then. He must discover the progression that was now to come. His focus snapped to that wretched seller of life and nodded, not a word passing through his broken and shattered lips as he now made absolutely certain of masking his own presence. Years of operating under the watchful sight of the Empire, without alerting them to his actions had taught him to keep his existence silent and his own gifts hidden. It would serve him well here, so close to this new force that had intruded into his realm.

The beast on stage gripped the side of his cranium in distress. $750. No more bids. He pushed himself into the man's mind, his telepathy anything but gentle. He needed to uncover the female's motivations, he required the advancement of whatever her next move would be, if purchasing the little dear was removed as an option.

[Lyydea Amarra]

I smiled, so wide, so hard, and then it came! Yes, yes! A response. Someone wanted me! I could only hope, only pray they would be kind, gentle, he hadn't been kind. He hadn't been gentle, I felt the auctioneer's hands leave my face, gripping at his own head. He looked like he was in pain, and I wondered if whatever was happening to him was important. Important things hurt, afterall.

"We have a private bidder..." He all but choked the words out, and I noticed a drop of blood pool at the tip of his nose, falling to splatter against my dress. My pretty, pretty dress. Even more dirty now, because of him. Something inside me yelled, screamed, bit and clawed. Outside I smiled, wider and brighter. "No more bids, I'm afraid. We will move on to the next item." He was stopping? Had I done something wrong? Panic set into my face, my smile faultering for a moment, I forced it back as quickly as I could, even as he took my arm, and began to move me off stage.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena frowned as the girl was unceremoniously dumped off stage, but it hadn't really impacted her plans. Their plans. Everything would go forward as before, except she was going to have to go back into the auction house to intercept the girl in case she was picked up and moved off premise by her private buyer. She nodded to Jeng, who spoke quietly into his comm as she moved through the crowd like silk, making her way to the 'backstage' area.

The Mando'ade that were sprinkled throughout the crowd remained as they were, posing as interested buyers and their bodyguards. And Granoi was seeding the support structures of the building with microbombs, set to go off when De'Ville triggered them. Rescue the helpless, and bring down the house on those that perpetrated these crimes against their fellow sentients, and against those who were gifted with the Force, and even worse offense.

[Sin]

His vision remained fixated on her as she stood, her companion alongside, and made her traversal from this main hall of inequality into the deeper reaches of the building, to where they were now holding his purchase. There was little doubt in his mind that she travelled to the back to intercept the girl's removal. He waited for her to disappear from sight before rising, mobility carrying him along the same path she had walked, his curious hunger unsated as he continued to try and ponder what role she served, what purpose she held. He had intended on this girl, this slave, to be as the period in final paragraph of her life. Final and eternal. Instead he had discovered a question mark. Yes, that was the only way one could describe this force user he followed. She was an enigma to him, and Sin so rarely encountered those.

The girl sat in the cramped and rusted confines of an imprisoning cage, and Sin made no motion to her side yet. She was but an afterthought, he meandered amongst the back, keeping a sensible distance from the one who held his interest so tightly drawn. He must not seem too keen on her presence, but rather appear that he was merely another loathsome purveyor of flesh and pain.

[Lyydea Amarra]

I rocked a bit, knees tight to my chest as my fingers played in my red locks of hair, dirty and matted, so much like my dress. Back to the cage I'd gone, the auctioneer telling me to "wait here", "be a good girl", and that I would be away soon. Someone had bought me though! My smile brightened at the thought, of no longer being in this cage, even if I were just to find a collar or leash around my neck.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Footsteps on the cracked ground beneath us. I heard it? Or felt it. Or knew it. I could never tell, sometimes I was so sure that there were things I heard that no one else did. Was it the one who had been interested in me, would I be leaving soon? If it were, I'd be sure I announced myself properly, a smile and a curtsy. "Lyydea Amarra" I'd say sweetly, and I'd brighten my smile for them. Then they'd let me clean my dress, and brush my hair, and I could be happy. I'd make myself be happy. I had to be happy.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena approached the cage, the cage, that they were keeping the red haired girl in. She looked her over as if she was merely surveying the merchandise, and placed her hand on the lock. It clicked quietly, releasing. "Come, child, it is time to leave." She swung the door open and waited for the girl to stand and step out.

[Sin]

She meant to abscond with the purchase that had transpired, by appearance. This female, cloaked in enigma and guile had freed his little bird, and for what purpose? To tame it herself, mayhaps release it wild and unprepared for the horrors of the universe? His curiosity was not yet sated, however this transgression could not be permitted, he directed his thought, his words to her and only her. Dripping speech like honey into the cavities of her mind.

Most fortunate, I am, to find that I am not alone in my concerns for the child's safety. Your actions, my interesting friend, would closely mirror my own. Your name?

He waited for her acknowledgement, either through motion or mind.

[Lyydea Amarra]

My eyes went wide as she approached, my new owner? Who else would pay attention to me, must be my owner! Must! Then my cage was opened. Had she even touched it? What had she done? The question didn't matter though as soon as the words fell onto my ears like a chorus from heaven, "Come, child, it is time to leave." My owner! Someone to pay attention to me, someone to treat me kindly, I hoped. To let me smile, and wash my dress, and tell me I was important. I stepped out, smiling wide, bright, happy and lowered my eyes. I shouldn't look, I shouldn't stare. When I'd done that before I'd been hit, told to keep my eyes low.

"Yes'm." I said demurely, going to her side and taking her hand. You should let your owner lead you, you were their property after all.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She had found, in the months since destroying the remnant of A'na Eldhil, that she had absorbed at least some of her former master's abilities. Telepathy, formerly impossible for her, was a new experience, and though she left her solid mind blocks in place to keep others from invading her head, she could now tell when someone was trying to. A buzzing sensation began in the front of her head, and she cautiously let the words trickle in. ... that I am not alone in my concerns for the child's safety. Your actions, my interesting friend, would closely mirror my own. Your name?

Lilaena did not look around, but took the girl's hand and started walking briskly toward the exit. "Try to keep up." Best to play the part of an impatient new owner, at least for now. To the unknown voice she thought, I don't give my name to strangers.

[Sin]

He felt the push back from her towering defenses, knew he was like an ant yelling towards a city - and yet she opened the door, let the insect scream at her. Would he come to the picnic, or bite at her toes?

Then, it would be best for us not to remain strangers. I am Sin, and I am he whom purchased our mutual interest. The one you are leading, at current, towards an exit.

He briskly followed, no longer masking his presence. She'd feel him in a moment, his strength within the Force, even if it were of less measure than her own. His place in the Darkside would also be known to her. A potentially thorny gestation, providing that information to her, but he believed it would bear the sweetest fruit.

For what purpose do you now steal away this poor child? I had intended her freedom, away from this nightmare of a world. Such a travesty to see those of our kind locked away without cause, would you not concur?

[Lyydea Amarra]

The tug on my arm was like bliss, being pulled away and out, along with my owner! Where would I go? Did she have a ship, the last one had a ship. It was awful, foul and dirty. Did she have more slaves? I had been all alone before, until he'd replaced me. The next words I heard, "Try to keep up." made me shiver, had I already displeased her? Was I already a failure? The confusion made me falter, my toe stubbing, and I felt myself stumble, and fall forwards. I had screwed up! She would surely beat me, or hit me, or yell at me. Why was I so worthless?

I fell from her hand, and my face hit the floor, a taste like iron filled my mouth. I knew that taste. I'd spent nights with only that flavor to sustain me. I wiped away the staining blood on my hand, careful to avoid my dress. I didn't want it getting dirtier. "I'm sorry!' I pleaded. "I'm sorry! Forgive me!"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Those with our abilities should rule, not be slaves. Do not get in my way or you will regret it. He said he wanted to free the girl, but lies came easier than truth to those who used the Dark side, as he most certainly did. He was present on her senses now, a dark blot of ink coming along behind her.

The Force sensitive girl was clumsy, probably from being cramped in a cage for far too long, and her hand wrenched from Lilaena's as she fell. Lilaena resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the girl's pathetic display, and stood imperious as she picked herself up. "Just be quiet and follow me." She put out her hand once more and took the girl's, tugging her along until she caught up. She smelled bad, Lilaena noted, but it was nothing a shower and a change of clothes wouldn't cure. The rags she was wearing would need to be burned, the risk of infested insects was too high.

[Sin]

Without question, the puzzle that walked away with the prize he had sought was an intriguing one. Far more intelligent than most he encountered, she did not cease her movements, her deliberate path toward egress. Had she the desire, she could silence him from her mind entirely, and make off with the young adept without even a backward glance at his persona. Yet... she had not done so. The line of communication still flowed like a twisting river, he would navigate its shores until he understood it.

Ahead, the worthless purveyor of this carnival of flesh stood at the back exit, guards flanking either side, and a look of unease growing across his visage. "Now, now, m...miss." He all but stumbled over his pitiful words. "Th...that is not y...your property." If a man could be even less worthwhile than most examples of putrid flesh that he encountered, this plague-ridden vermin was a perfect example of such.

Sin 'spoke' again. His telepathy not restrained to any sole mind this time, wider so that both his new interest, her accompaniment and the trained ape who ran this circus could understand him equally.

No. She is mine, and if I took issue with the actions of this woman, would I not vocalize them? Remove your self from that doorway before you demonstrate that you are a larger fool than I had originally thought.

The auctioneer all but tripped at the sound that echoed between his ears, finally catching sight of the man some feet behind the woman and her party. "Sir, sir! I am merely trying to see t..to it that your..." Sin had no desire to waste more of his fleeting existence with this man's trivial banality. He spoke telepathically again, this one very much directed towards him, and only him. A shotgun went off inside his head.

"NOW."

The man, if one could call him that, hit the wall. Sliding slightly, and keeping himself upright with trembling digits as a thin crimson river drained from his quivering nostril. He slowly slid away from the door, motioning for his fellows to do the same. "Y...y...yes. Sorry. Of course." Sin, having taken to a faster pace managed to find himself now just a step or two behind De'Ville. Once more initiating conversation meant for her alone.

Get in your way? How could I possibly do so, when we travel the same direction? I do not wish to hinder your goals, nay, I agree with them. These... things. He motioned towards the all but whimpering auctioneer, too terrified to keep his gaze up towards them any longer. Aren't fit to manage themselves. I had come to rescue this dear girl, much as you had. I see before me now, however, a much greater opportunity. Permit me to walk a path alongside yours, at least while we traverse the same road?

His curiosity was burning bright in his chest now. What was she? Jedi? Sith? Something else, entirely? For the first time in a great while, Sin was excited.

[Lyydea Amarra]

Forgiveness! I had not been beaten for my mistake, such a joyous event. Truly my new mistress is a wonderful and kind person, yes! The awful man, the man who had sold me to my new owner stood by the door, mumbling into his chest and trying to prevent my exit. Was... was I being taken back? Then, another voice. This one was strange, like a buzzing in the back of my head. It tickled. This voice said he owned me. But what of mistress? My confusion grew, frowning momentarily before I forced it back into a smile. Have to smile, keep smiling. I have to be happy. The seller moved away, and we were walking closer still to the door, but I kept moving, as I had been told. We came upon the door, and that's when I was pulled away. The auctioneer had lurched forward as we were passing, arms wrapping around my shoulders pulling me, a forearm into my throat, choking me!

"N...no one moves, un...until I figure out...w..what is going on. And I g...get... PAID." He spat, and I watched a long thin metal blade flick out from between his fingers, pulled from his pocket. No, no, no! The edge of the blade pressed against my neck, and I wanted to cry, to whimper, but didn't. I was good, like I'd been told to be, so I smiled. I smiled, and tried to pretend everything was alright, until I saw it. A splash of red from the tip of his nose, which fell and landed on my dress. My pretty, pretty dress. I couldn't smile, I couldn't be happy.

I spun, the edge of the blade tracing my neck just deep enough to mark it, but not slice through. He was surprised, I could tell, he looked down and lowered the knife in confusion. So I held his hand, and before he could pull away, or think, or stop, or breath. I twisted it, and shoved, the metal disappearing into his shirt, a blossom of red growing and dampening his clothes. And I didn't smile, I just looked at him, my head turning slightly as I watched the light start to dim in his eyes.

"You ruined my dress."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

If she had not allowed herself to be distracted by the other, the voice in her head (and hadn't she had enough of those for a lifetime?), Lilaena would never had let the girl be taken. She took a moment to block the insect from her mind and focused on the slaver, only to have the girl twirl about and drive the man's knife into his own chest. A gallon of crazy in a pint glass, it seemed, but then, she'd fit right in.

Lilaena snatched up the girl's hand once more as the guards that ringed the slave market began to take notice of their employer/owner's demise, and dragged her out the door to relative freedom. She spoke into her commlink, "We are clear, commence at once."

[Sin]

Surprise, it would appear, was the order of the day for Sin. First, the astonishment of one so unique and attention drawing as the female force user who had taken to acquiring the same prize he himself had sought. Now a surprising display of spine from the worm who had meant to sell the girl. Even if a cowardly display, it was more than he had believed someone of his facilities was capable. Then there was the girl herself. An easily disposable blip of Force sensitivity, utterly devoid of any unique traits. At least he had believed that.

What he witnessed before his oculars was enough to send a warm shiver up his spine. She had turned, instrument of death pressed against her throat, tracing into it to cast a crimson sheen to her flesh, and seen her captor's own weapon pressed deep into his gullet. Such an action would be expected in anger, or fear, or hatred - inspired by the burning passion that so many claimed to possess. Instead it was the coolness of her words, the anger, while present all but frozen in her soul. Such a stark contrast from the smiling, bubbly personage she put on to everyone who had but thought to glance in her direction. Then she spoke, and Sin again found himself utterly intrigued. "You ruined my dress."

Memories returned of his dearest relation, his sister Deidara, lost to him now by means of that accursed Empire - but before her removal from Sin's life she had been such a wonder to be about. The way she would express complete disdain for those beneath her. Removing their lives for what they would have certainly exclaimed to be triviality. She was so much greater than they, however, that each trivial failure on their part was deserving of execution - and here, this adept, this slave had taken the life of one who for merely daring to bleed upon her.

Marvelous. Absolutely marvelous. In a flash the enigmatic woman had taken the adept by the hand once more and began to drag her along, presumably away from this house of disease. He followed, no longer attempting to push his words into the woman's mind - he could feel blocks put in place to keep him out, regardless. He would find another manner of communication, actions perhaps. As such, he continued to follow, he did not hide this fact, but was mindful to maintain distance from those she directed.

[Lyydea Amarra]

I could have watched his light fade for hours. Days. Minutes. It was so very different than the last time. Was everyone's light different? My hand was grabbed again, my owner, was she my owner? The woman who may have been my owner pulled me along, and the man, the one who had said he was, now followed behind us. It was all very confusing.

Why couldn't someone just tell me who I belonged to? It was so very simple when it was explained. "You belong to me." they would say, "Okay, yes." I would reply - and then we could be happy. That was what was supposed to happen. Instead I was being dragged about, no one telling me who I belonged to. Maybe the auctioneer would know, I could always ask him. Wait. Oh right, I took his light. Well now I was sad. He couldn't answer my question.

[Bretak]

Jeng had moved slowly through the crowd, and now slipped backstage to the cattle pens. Slavery was not a strange concept to him; the Mandalorians had made slaves and wives of many from Iziz while they had lived on Onderon. In fact, he had captured a woman from Iziz, only to have her challenge the Mandalore and end up leading the entire tribe. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of that, as he certainly hadn't gotten a wife out of the deal, but he had spent many hours with his new Mand'alor, teaching her the nuances of their language. With Bretak, he had led the loyalists to leave the fleet behind to find her.

"We are clear, commence at once."

With that, the locks on the cages all clicked, and the doors swung wide. The people within were confused, and it took a moment for anyone else to notice. Jeng pulled his blaster and pointed it at the ceiling, shooting bolts harmlessly overhead. "You are free!" he bellowed in accented Basic, and then turned his attention toward the guards who were swarming toward him, a grin on his face.

[Sin]

If his visage were to be made manifest to those about his person, leathery confines and ruby oculars stripped from his broken and burnt appearance, shock and confusion would reign upon Sin's expression. The rescuing of their own kind, even if he thought such an action banal, made a measure of sense to the man. This action, however, left him bewildered. He stood amidst the growing chaos and allowed it to unfurl before his senses, blaster bolts being made to singe the air in alarm, guards rushing to contain now unleashed beasts of burden, these slaves.

A distraction, Sin would wager, was what this gamble had to have been. Either that, or the female's motives were even more intriguing than he had initially thought. He still struggled to put a label upon her. Such nobility and concern, but such violent acts for one who spoke so freely of conquering weaker wills.

Not a Jedi then. At least not in any measure he was familiar with, but not Sith either? He pondered such a curious state as a guard moved to rush past him, towards the fleeing rabble. Perhaps now was the opportune moment to demonstrate his good faith to his new acquaintance. He reached out with the Force, power tangling the leg of the encroaching guard, and tightened the unseen tendril. His purchase slipped from him and he plummeted, another crack of the Force, like a a whip sent the man sliding across the ground and into an especially angry horde of former slaves.

The sound of his screams as they fell upon him like a pack of wild and untamed creatures was symphonic, a melody of slaughter.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena half dragged the girl behind her as she hurried away from the slave warehouse, a ship descending from the sky in the middle of speeder traffic and causing drivers to curse and veer away or be caught in the downwash from the repulsors. The goggled man hung back a bit, taking out a guard. Was it to help "his" slave girl escape the mayhem, or just for the thrill of death? She didn't have time to dwell on it, pushing back against the air with the Force and protecting herself and the slave girl from the windy chaos of the starship landing.

Inside the warehouse Jeng leveled his shell gun at the guards running toward him, shooting a shell that exploded into a sticky substance that quickly hardened like rock. The men cursed and shouted as they were entangled and caught fast. He ignored them, scooping up a small child who was screaming in fear inside an open cage, and making his way to the exits while his brothers and sisters descended on the slave traders like the fist of the gods.

[Zereth Lancer]

The vessel set down and the loading ramp lowered, a single man stepping quickly down the length to meet Lilaena at the bottom. Unhooded and unmasked his long spiky black hair blowing wildly in the drafts created by the repulsors of the overhead speeders diverting around the sudden arrival of the starship. His gaze traveled from Lilaena to the girl and finally to the man following behind. Red eyes met red lenses and Zereth stepped around his fellow force adepts and faced the man in the shadows, his hand resting on the hilt of a lightsabre hidden just inside his coat. "Is that one a problem?"

Whoever or whatever the man in the shadows was, there was something not quite right about him. His aura was dark and foreboding. His former master had felt that way, and that man had been a monster. Lilaena seemed unconcerned but that did nothing to put his calm his nerves. This smash and grab required a quick and decisive execution in order for them to escape before anyone else could slow them down, and this individual could very well be a wrench in the cogs. Wrenches would be removed forcibly if necessary.

[Sin]

Yet another piece arrived upon the chess board, it had seemed, another point of force familiarity emerged as the ship descended, and the new player, another of the female's associates it would seem, entered upon the fray. The scenario unfolding proved more interesting with each passing instance. The passage of time continued on, and it became increasingly apparent that the both of his points of interest, the woman and the girl, were set to abandon this world to its own depravity, and collapse. It was simply a matter of ensuring his own transport upon their vessel as well, less he find the entire exercise of waste.

The issue, that arose was troublesome, he was untrusted - with good reason, of course - and being largely ignored by the only one who could grant him voyage. What ploy would be most appropriate? A show of power seemed reckless, and unneeded. His attempts to work his way into her good graces through diplomacy, and then through action were unnoticed, but he had assisted, and she had noticed it. It simply was not enough to warrant his inclusion to her fold.

Inspiration, like a bolt of lightning from God's fingers struck the dark man. Her concern for the well-being of others, especially those of their kind, the force sensitive. Yes, that he may be able to work with. There was attention on him now, from both the new arrival, and shortly from herself as he had been pointed out. Behind him he could sense a number of guards attempting to flee, and pushed, ever so gently on the force at one, just a subtle suggestion dropped into his mind through his telepathy, directed solely at the worm of a man. Other direction. He broke from the group, and proceeded towards Sin. Upon sight of such a group of Force users any wise and sapient individual would have turned and fled, this one was little more than a beast, as Sin had suspected, and instead took aim. My leg. Another push.

Sin turned, raising his arms in defense, after all he was one with the Force, was he not, he would sense the attack and block it - any of them would have. He avoided the first attempt, but the second would connect. It was the performance, the production that was most vital - it had to be convincing. The blaster bolt caught his leg, and he let out a wordless cry, strangled, broken noises escaping his cracked lips, the only sounds that he could actually form with his body, and the very reason he relied upon his telepathy. His frame collapsed to its side, the black protective covering of his leg smoking, and burned away ever so slightly, showing far more damage than would have been caused by just one blaster bolt. Old scars heal slowly after all.

It was her turn now to act in the play, and Sin grew concerned, if only momentarily, that he had misinterpreted her - it would be troublesome to remove himself from this wretched planet with crippled leg if she didn't take the route he expected.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena shoved the girl toward the ramp and Zereth, turning just in time to witness the stranger take a bolt to the leg. "You've got to be kidding me," she growled, considering leaving him as the girl refused to leave her side and get on the ship.

She focused on the girl. "Get on board!" The girl finally peeled away from her and scampered up the ramp, and Lilaena faced the fallen Darksider. He had helped them escape, even if the help hadn't been needed, and she didn't feel right leaving him to be overpowered by the wave of angry guards that had escaped the slavers emporium. The first explosion from the building brought one corner of it crumbling down, the ground shaking. She ran back and grabbed the man's arm. "Oh, come on." Lilaena dragged him toward the ship.

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth took the girl by the arm. When attempts to lead her proved useless he forced her by pulling her up the ramp and into the hold. "Watch her." he commanded one of Lilaena's Mandalorians inside and then turned and stepped back out on to the ramp just as Lilaena reached the bottom with her new found friend in top. Rushing down he wrapped his arm around the man's waist and pulled him up right and half carried, half dragged him up the rest of the ramp. They did not have time to twaddle about. He had not survived a small lifetime hidden away underneath the surface of Korriban to get bogged down and die in this horrid place.

No sooner had he dragged the man through the top of the ramp than he unceremoniously deposited on the floor in a motion that can only be described as opening one's arms and stepping away in the opposite direction of how the burden falls. Stepping to the side he positioned himself between the slave girl and the stranger, assuming his old stance with hand on lightsabre hilt. Waiting. One misstep, one finger out of line, or a single word from Lilaena and the man would be executed. Zereth trusted the man a lot less than how far he could throw him. Everything about him felt wrong.

[Lyydea Amarra]

Thrown about, tossed around, dragged and pulled. I had been all but picked up and thrown into the ship. It was still confusing! At least both the man and woman who had said they owned me were here, so one of them clearly must have. I managed to sit back after being deposited, rudely, rudely, rudely, I may add, and straighten out my pretty dress. I watched the new man, the one who was watching the man who said he'd bought me, he was intense, very intense! Scary.

The other one, the one in a mask who spoke in my head had hurt himself, and lay on the floor of the ship across from where I was. I wanted to smile, to wave a bit, but the scary man probably wouldn't like it. So I waited to be addressed, kept my mouth closed like a good and proper slave. Yes I was, a good and proper slave.

[Sin]

He felt, rather than saw, the man's gaze upon his form. Menacing and protective of those he trusted - a number which did not include Sin himself. Attention fell back upon his 'hostess' the river of communication still a dry path upon which he could not flow. She kept him blocked off. This one, this ape who was entirely uninteresting seemed just as keen to strike him down than listen to his words, and the girl who sat keenly attentive and serenely calm despite the madness of the hour turned her head in quizzical whimsey at his appearance. He desired communication with her, further information of what, pray tell, she was. How she came to be the creature of duality he had witnessed earlier.

He did not believe the lightsaber wielder to be of a high enough level of intelligence to even pick up on a telepathic communication between himself and the girl, however, this day had been full of surprises and he had no desire to tease fate further and risk the man recognizing his actions and lashing out like a primal animal, confused and upset at the sight of fire. So he would remain seated, deposited unceremoniously upon the floor of this vessel and wait for communication to flow from the other direction, rather than initiating such action.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She waited for communication from Jeng - the slavers' place of business was destroyed, and her people were making their way off planet on schedule. Lilaena nodded to the pilot, and the ship lurched as it accelerated to escape velocity. They would be in hyperspace in minutes.

She turned her attention to Zereth. "Take him," she gestured at the injured man on the deck, "to get patched up. I don't want him bleeding to death on board." She looked at the fallen man, and added, "If you try anything funny, you won't live to regret it. You are here on my good graces, and those are in short supply."

De'Ville then turned to the girl, and held out her hand. "Would you like to get cleaned up?"

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth's attention split for only a moment to physically acknowledge Lilaena's instruction with a nod of his head. His focus returned to the dark being and even as he bent low to get the man up on his good leg he was tensed, ready for something to go wrong. A knife between his ribs, thrown against the wall, shot in the back. Anything. Zereth hated unknown variables and this man embodied all of his doubts. Still, he had to hope in the lack of immediate gain that the man would go without injuring those on the ship. Lilaena and her Mandalorians would prove a challenge to even the most adept practitioner of the dark arts.

This starship was not so large as it have it's own dedicated medical facility, but there was room in the common for him to set the mysterious strange down in a chair while he rummaged through the cabinets where they kept the medical supplies; which were disappointingly few. Immediately he located a bacta patch, bandages, gauze, and a bottle of painkillers. "Do you want anything for the pain?" he asked as he turned to face the man, bottle of pills rattled for emphasis. While not the most experienced medic in the galaxy, Zereth had attended to his own injuries enough times to field dress something as textbook as a blaster wound. Clean, apply bacta patch and bandage. Clipping away dead, burned flesh was optional.

[Lyydea Amarra]

I tilted my head in confusion, would... I like to? What sort of an order was that? No sense, it made no sense. Things still made no sense! The man who said he'd bought me was taken away, something about bleeding? Was his light going to go out, too? Was I going to be even more alone, can't have that, can't have it. Still getting cleaned up did sound nice, maybe see if I can wash my dress. So pretty. I lowered my eyes, and felt a warm flush cross my cheeks.

"If that is what you would like, mistress."

She must have been the one to own me, and not the man, or if he had been - then maybe he was bleeding so he would no longer own me, and she was taking me for that reason. Must make a good impression, I must! I bowed a bit, a proper curtsey, as I'd been taught to, told to, would do.

"I am Lyydea, if you will it."

[Sin]

The gambit had paid off, and now it seemed he was aboard their vessel, for whatever passage of time it was permitted. Briefly, I considered ignoring the basic grunts and tones of this servant as he begged response to his query. Alas, it was best not to put myself forward as anything but submissive in the current situation.

I would prefer my senses not be dulled. Pain reminds me that I still draw breath.

My words flooded towards his mind, and I briefly considered that as he travelled with the woman, he may also be versed in blocking telepathy - in such a situation my greatest weapon would be stripped from me, and I would find myself little more than mute to their company. It was necessity, then, that would demand I be certain that the reason for my method of speech was revealed.

I do apologize, most earnestly, for sharing my words with you in such a manner. He lifted his chin to press a finger to his throat. But this cursed and shattered organ has never produced more than the sound of suffering, and howling incoherence. I am mute, save my gifts, I fear.

He watched as the materials necessary to treat his wounds were gathered, and wondered upon the reaction that would occur at the discovery that beneath the clothing he wore was a burnt and broken frame, scarred and warped from fire and abuse.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena nodded, realizing that the girl had been a slave for much of her life - and did not have the strength of character to avoid being broken by it. "I do. Lyydea, take a sonic shower and clean yourself up." She opened a door, revealing a spartan ship's refresher. "I will have adequate clothing brought for you, rather than the rags you are wearing."

[Lyydea Amarra]

Rags? She'd... she'd called my pretty blue dress rags? And she wanted to take it from me? I pulled away, if ever so slightly, and forced myself to stop, musn't do that, musn't disobey - but... my dress.

"Please, miss, I love this dress. I know its a bit... worn, but I'll clean it if you'll let me. It'll be so nice, and perfect, and I'll never disobey, not once, I promise!"

I gave my biggest, most earnest smile I just hoped she was a good one, a good owner. She'd know in a moment, if the hand came out to strike her, to beat her, to make her sorry for speaking at all.

[Zereth Lancer]

Pain. A powerful tool. It can turn even the most docile of creatures into a raging beast capable of incredible harm. It also reduces the mighty warrior into a frenzy or cowardice; swinging wildly or scrambling for comfort.

With the aid of a scalpel, Zereth cut away the clothing over the wound to reveal the injury, and a body not quite intact surrounding it. He said nothing but his face had become noticeably more somber. The bacta patch was applied, it's adhesive edges holding it in place. The additional bandage was applied to aid in holding the patch in place. Finally the opening in the pants was laid flat again, even if just to hide the charred body from sight. Still he said nothing, because intrusive questions had a habit of being turned around and he doubted he had as many answers as the man before him.

Instead he stepped over to the ship comm on the wall and thumbed it. "Lilaena, our guest is patched up."

[Sin]

Doubt lingered as he focused on the youth, busy in his works. The silence provided by his lack of response was both welcome relief and perilous danger upon his shoulders. He could not judge the boy's reaction to his words, spoken directly to his mind. Perhaps indifference? Unease? There were a plethora of puzzles confronting him lately, and as much as he had enjoyed the excitement of being unaware of what next surprise were to present itself to his being, it now wore thin.

Thunk. He let his head slump back and rest, hard enough to note his agitation, against the wall, vision now directed to the ship comm. The next move lay with this 'Lilaena' as to what his status aboard this vessel was.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Change your clothes," she repeated, and the refresher door closed firmly behind the girl. A Mandalorian stood nearby and she nodded at him as she walked toward the common room.

"I trust you have been behaving yourself," Lilaena said to the lounging stranger. She looked at Zereth, who shrugged. "Do you talk?"

[Sin]

Rapture, bliss, the barren waste of silence was finally broken - at long last communication between himself and his hostess - straight to the point, as well. Fingers traveling the length of his neck, muscles tilting and lifting his chin to expose the throat, and with a firm press with the tip of his digit against the worn, and useless organ that should have given him voice drew an "X" across leather-bound flesh. Mute, from birth.

His shoulders raised, head tilting to one side again, palms up apologetically as he gave a shrug of indication that words, spoken at least, was not an activity he was able to partake in.

[Lyydea Amarra]

Oh the refresher! What rapture it was! I'd almost forgotten the joy that came along with being clean, and was savoring every moment - though I began to fear I lingered too long, growing concern that I was going to disappoint my owner. That I would spend all her time in here, and fail to meet an expectation she had set. So quickly finished the shower, and held up the change of clothes that had been left at the door of the refresher with a knock, one of the mistress's other servants surely had provided it. It was a rather plain affair, made for utility rather than style and held no candle to my most beloved blue dress.

The mistress had called those rags, and I fear she meant to dispose of them. No, no, no. That simply wouldn't do. I bent down to fiddle with the drawers that held cleaning supplies until I found one that had a little extra space. Carefully, I had to be careful, mustn't tear it! Mustn't tear it! CAREFULLY I folded up my dress and tucked it inside, hiding it beneath some cleaning rags. I forced myself to put on the alien clothing and frowned, disliking it very much, I hated it! Hate. Hate. HATED it. I frowned and caught sight of myself in the mirror, forcing my smile to return, mustn't be sad, mustn't show anger. Just push it down, hide it. Hap-hap-happy on the outside. That's what mattered!

I opened the door of the refresher and peeked out, eyes darting to and fro as I looked for my owner, to prove what a good obedient girl I was, to wear such awful clothes.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"That does complicate things," she said. What reason do you have for wishing to come with us? You know little and less about where you are, and who we are. Is she that important to you? A sister, perhaps?

Lilaena felt, rather than heard, the girl leaving the 'fresher and bumbling into a Mandalorian. The warrior would bring the girl to her.

[Zereth Lancer]

Lilaena entered the medical quarters just as Zereth finished rubbing a sanitizer all over his hands. There was a urge to cover more of his body with it. The sight of flesh burnt and distorted had left an impression on him, and had left him wondering just where this man had been and what biological threat he may pose. The universe was a dangerous place, and in the icy reaches of space disease is a ill fitting bunkmate. He would have words with Lilaena later. The individual did not need to be present. In the meantime he would seclude himself in the corner of the room atop a stool and watch the exchange. No words spoken, but there was a crackle in the air, in the force, between the two. A conversation he was not capable of listening in on.

[Sin]

This girl is not my sister, no. His jacket crumpled, shoulders raising in a minute gesture of apology for the truth he shared. She is however, I find, most reminiscent of my younger sibling. Deidara was lost to me, I fear. A victim of the Empire's cruel crusade against our kind. I, myself, was driven from the heart of that wicked system by their actions as well - my location means little to me at this point, as long as it leads me along the path to further the goals I have set. You speak truth that I am not familiar with you and your associates.

I simply saw that we seem to have correlating paths, and to be forthright I tire of walking alone. Allow me to travel beside you, or send me on my way, that choice is yours. I trust that the girl we both have an interest in will remain safe, free, and unharmed if she is in your care.

He wove lies in with his truth, and half-truths more within those. Where one began and another ended, even he himself could not properly identify.

[Lyydea Amarra]

He'd promised to take me to her, he had, he had! I needed to show her just how good I'd been with her order, as the funny man in his funny armor took me down the hallway, my eyes flitted back and forth, in and out of shadows, curiosity growing as I looked over my new home? Was this my home, or was this just what would take me to my home? So many questions still! But not my place to ask them, no... I'd learn them in time, when the mistress felt like I needed to know and...

We rounded a corner, and I almost let out a noise, I had to silence myself before I did, though. Don't want to be a bad girl. But I almost did! There was again, my new owner, but also the other, the man who said he'd paid for me. He was alive, they'd let him live? Were they friends, they were staring at each other so intently, and the back of my head itched, but they didn't seem to be talking. Though I suddenly wonder if I have a sister, and I'm not sure why.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"She will remain safe," agreed De'Ville, looking up as the girl in question came into view. As long as she obeys. "You may stay also, as long as you do not make trouble for us. If we are like minded this should not be a problem. There are others besides us," she said, gesturing to Lancer who was sitting idly in the corner, examining his hands for filth. "Others who walk the same path as we do."

[Sin]

Constraining leather broke the air with audible poison as his head moved to nod in agreement to the terms. Of course he had no intention of obediently serving this femme fatale so blindly - but it would allow him access to her, and with fortunate chance sate his curiosity regarding her status. Light, Dark, something other entirely perhaps.

Ah, and there was the other prize coming into his vision. Clean and out of the rags that she had worn, and clung so much to.

Of course. I am more than pleased to abide by any set of rules you need to present. I am certain that the girl will not be an issue either.

[Lyydea Amarra]

So much talking, talking, talking. Though... I didn't hear him talk. Only her. A one-sided conversation? I'd been on the receiving end of those, usually the points were punctuated with a slap here, a kick there. Worse if I was slow to learn.

I went to my mistresses side, knelt to her right, like I'd been trained. Always in reach, for guidance or whatever other need an owner would have. Must be in reach... I still needed to ask about my dress. I'd hidden it away for now, safe, sound, but I couldn't keep it hidden from her forever it was wrong and dangerous. I would find a time to ask to keep it, but first I'd prove I was good. I was loyal.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"We shall see," Lilaena said. "Zereth, find Jeng and have him clear a bunk for our guest." And keep an eye on him. We don't trust him...yet. Being able to speak into another being's mind was still a new experience, one she found herself rapidly getting used to.

"Are you hungry, Lyydea?" The girl to her right looked up mutely, obviously unsure of what the correct answer was. Lilaena suppressed an irritated sigh, and gestured for her to stand. "No matter, you will accompany me to the galley." She nodded to Sin and Zereth and walked away, trusting her new acquisition would quickly follow.

[Zereth Lancer]

His head moved at the slightest drop, a subtle nod that only those looking for a response would notice. In the current context it did not look out of place. He was less comfortable speaking in other people's minds. It was not a matter of knowing how. He was a master of force illusions and that meant he had an intimate knowledge of getting into people's heads and manipulating them from within. It was a matter of privacy. He felt it was intrusive to enter the most private of places, even if just to cast a message. Not everyone was so casual or accepting of the intrusiveness of it all.

"Very well." Was his only verbal reply before he departed. There was no ma'am or sir. Lilaeana was not his superior. While she was the leader of this gathering, it was more a collection of equals than the insane hierarchy normally found within groupings of force adepts, such as the Jedi and the Sith. He respected her and followed her instructions, but he was no lapdog. Not this time around.

[Sin]

His vision trailed after the youth he had thought to acquire, her egress from the room precipitated with an order from his new 'associate'. Behind leather confinement a smile formed brokenly across shattered lips. This journey had proven far more fruitful than he had anticipated. What would further venture bring, he wondered? The passage of time would find that answer waiting.

For the brief respite that he was allowed, he would simply savor his good fortune. Yes, this was indeed good fortune.