A Vial Full of Fate (Naj)

The cupboard doors were closed tightly, and locked. Inside, on the single shelf, a glass vial was resting. It was stoppered up securely, its contents hard to see in the darkness.

A key turned in the lock, and a crack of light appeared, and then the shelf was flooded with light momentarily. The doors closed, the key turned once more. The vial was gone.
___

Lilaena De'Ville tucked the key back into her belt, and turned the vial over in her hands. The late afternoon sunlight caught it, and inside a single hair shimmered red. It was a short strand, but enough for it's purpose.

The taking of it was to instill fear of the unknown. And now, after nearly two years of no results, Thareena would know fear of the known. Of course, not right away, but soon enough.

That was where Arilov came into play.

She knew full well that her apprentice dabbled in genetic arts, having taken some pointers from Garrett Blade before the latter's disappearance once more into insanity, or oblivion. And now he would dabble in it for her. De'Ville's feet were taking her to his apartment in the city, and deep in her thoughts she barely realized that she wasn't taking an offical speeder. Bare feet in city streets were highly unusual, and she was a recognized figure in the City by now.

People steered clear of her path.

The Dark Jedi stopped at the door, and knocked loudly, waiting for her apprentice to show himself. It was a highly prized day off, but she knew he'd be here. Daria was off planet with Silus at the moment, and so he had no where else to be.

She knocked again.

De'Ville's knocking nearly made Naj fall off the couch, where he had been napping. Daria was off planet with Xilarian, who was incidentally the only one who had ever knocked that loudly. So, not knowing who it was pounding on his door, Naj quietly slid the small drawer on the coffee table open and picked up the blaster inside. He made his way to the door and peeked through the looking glass, just as De'Ville knocked again.

Being caught off guard, Naj stumbled back a bit, then reached forward and slowly opened the door, keeping the blaster behind his back.

"Yes?"

The door slowly opened, revealing Arilov's cautious, blue face. De'Ville didn't offer him a smile, and didn't step inside. "I have a request for you."

She held up the vial containing a single hair between two fingers, and waggled it back and forth a little. "I know you like to create things. I want you to create me something."

"I can see you have no shortage of hair, so I assume you wish for me to create something else."

Naj studied the vial for a moment then casually shut the door. He wasn't sure if De'Ville would open the door, knock, or simply leave. It really didnt matter though, as he wasn't going anywhere without his robe. That, and he would need a few things from his ship.

She was non-plussed when he shut the door in her face, but she remained on the porch. "I assume you are getting dressed," De'Ville called through the door, "so hurry it up and I will tell you who's hair that is."

The door opened once more, with Naj stepping out. This time he was dressed in his usual robes. Although it didnt appear that De'Ville was taking him on any sort of training session, he wasnt about to take the chance of ruining good clothing with her. As the glow of his eyes flared and adjusted to the outside weather, Naj quickened his step to catch up to his master, who was already walking off.

"Pray tell who that hair belongs to."

They were walking briskly back towards the palace, a good twenty minute walk from Arilov's apartment. "The hair belongs to a New Republic senator, one who made a deal with the devils about eighteen months ago.

"She has been wasting my time, and so this little piece of... insurance is going to be put to use. I could use the DNA in this strand of hair to have a poison designed specifically for her made, but if I use it on her, she is of no further use to me." The master and apprentice stopped at the side of a road, waiting for traffic to slacken so they could cross. De'Ville turned to Arilov. "I have an idea, however, and this is where you come in."

He raised a black eyebrow with non-committal interest, and shaded his red eyes as they crossed the street. Arilov seemed content to let her continue to talk, so she did, tucking her dark hair behind her ears as they reached the other side of the street. "I need a clone of the good senator. Actually, two clones."

"Ah, now it all makes sense."

Naj mused as they continued their walk. Truth be told, the project interested him, but seemed to be something of a monumental task. As much of a god as he thought himself to be, even he knew that one couldnt just grow a human on some sort of tree.

"As inclined as I am to go along with this, the issue of equipment must be raised. My lab is nowhere near sophisticated enough to produce any sort of clone. Without some very sophisticated machines, well, I think I make my point."

She smiled crookedly, "As much as I would like to remain mysterious about this, there is something I would like to show you. It requires a short trip into orbit, if you are up to it."

Reaching the palace grounds, she flagged down an official car. "This will take us to the spaceport where a shuttle can take us to my ship, The Devil's Advocate."

"Very well."

Naj replied, hiding his curiousity behind a veil of indifference. Since his training began, the chiss had felt a bit stifled when it came to his experiments. While he knew the importance of his own personal power, he still had a handful of 'projects' that had to be put on hold. The thought of getting some real practice with genetics, in such a way that it might further his own ends, began to make him almost salivate.

The rest of the trip was spent in relative silence. It was a short shuttle ride into high orbit where the Corellian gunship was sitting. She had ordered her captain to keep to the Outer Rim while she got settled on Onderon, and had just recalled Captain Delving two weeks previously.

This would be her second trip to the ship. In a few days it would be landed on the planet and repainted with the sovereign colors of Onderon and become it's only hyperspace capable ship. But not for a few more days.

The shuttle entered into the sole shuttle bay of The Devil's Advocate, and De'Ville and Arilov made their way down the ramp. Captain Delving and four grey uniformed soldiers greeted them. "My Lady, we did not know you were paying another visit, and so I must apologize for the poor reception." Michel Delving fell in beside her as she continued to walk, and the four troopers brought up the rear behind Arilov.

"Captain, I need no reception, and I have told you that before." There was no sting in her words, Michel Delving was a fine officer, and fiercely loyal to her. He had defected from the Corellian fleet upon her banishment, bringing with him such loyal men and women as could be trusted. She trusted him even more than she trusted Xilarian. "I only came to show Arilov here the hangar."

Darth Viscera had arranged many years ago for her personal ship to be outfitted with a hangar capable of holding a squadron of fighters. She'd gotten rid of all but three TIEs to make room for a more precious cargo.

Michel nodded, "Certainly my Lady." With a subtle gesture the four troopers split off from their party, receding into the background of the ship's corridors. "You know the way well. But allow me the pleasure of accompanying you."

She nodded, knowing that it was being in proximity to her power that gave Delving new drive to do anything she asked of him, and so indulged him. A short walk and they were entering the wide doors that led into the highly polished hangar deck. A wheeled transport for getting pilots to their TIEs sat dormant by the inside of the door.

The captain gave another signal, and the lights came on, bathing the entire room with an unrelenting glare. De'Ville didn't bother looking at the three TIE fighters that were lined up directly in front of them, but walked past them, and towards the far side of the hangar. Arilov's footsteps followed her, Delving's did not.

"This is how you will make me my clones." She turned to face him, and was satisfied with the look of complete astonishment on his face. Behind her was a row of eighteen spaarti cyclinders, and there had once been many more. "Before you ask, I was a part of a raid on the Mount Tantiss labratory on the planet Wayland, when I was part of the Sith Order. As my reward for a job well done, I was given these."

She turned slightly, and walked towards them, running a hand lightly against the thick glass. "I have never used them, because I lack the knowledge of such things. Since cloning is outlawed, it has been increasingly difficult to find geneticists willing to take part in such a scheme." De'Ville turned to face him again, leaning against the cyclinder. "However, I parted out many that I had, and sold them to 'collectors,' or other beings interested in the old Empire's leavings. The government of the planet Kamino bought enough to make two complete cyclinders, although over several months."

He was still silent, and she added, "I honestly do not even know if any of these will work."