Dark Matter: Episode 3

The device was less overwhelming five levels up, but it still cast a long shadow that hindered her efforts. Nothing felt right as she crept along the halls and poked her head into various rooms. She felt even more disturbed when she found herself in what must have been the crew quarters, giving her an idea of how many must have been serving aboard the cruiser once upon a time; she still hadn't seen a body. Not one on the cruiser, anyway.

She whirled at a sound behind her and launched herself down the hallway. Her senses sharpened. Blade thrumming. Heart pulsing. She could almost sense it, almost perceive it, like a whisper at the edge of hearing. droids were always difficult to track using the Force, and even more so in a sterile environment like a ship in space. It was almost easier to use just her own ears, but the cruiser groaned frequently and she couldn't distinguish the two. She yelled in frustration when she found herself back at the mangled airlock, though she wished she could take it back seconds later; something had moved inside the freighter.

She would have preferred quiet.

She fought down the urge, barely, to use her comm to check in with N1, as she couldn't be sure that wouldn't make her a target. She still thought she was the one doing the hunting, though a small voice insisted that no such thing was true. She cursed quietly as she stepped back onto the freighter and tried to remember how to get back to the Conquest.

The silence was eerie, especially given how panicked the man on the bridge had been before. Sheefa crept along, moving slowly with her blade up, through the cramped spaces. The path looked familiar, and she stayed on it despite a heavy clang behind her.

"N1," she whispered, after entering her security code into the panel beside the docking port. "N1, are you there?" N1 tweeted cheerfully in response, and Sheefa sighed in relief. "I was worried." She looked around, trying to focus on the freighter around her. The pathways she was vulnerable from "It might be better if you disengage, and put some actual space between you and this ship."

N1 beeped softly, and curiously.

"No time to get into it now. Just stay close, and be ready to come back if we start calling." Heavy thuds echoed through the freighter as the Conquest peeled away. She couldn't help feeling like she might have made a mistake, but doubt was a luxury she couldn't afford. Sheefa took a few deep breaths, to steady her heart, and turned to start searching the freighter.

Her lack of knowledge when it came to basic ship layout came into glaring focus as she circled around twice to find herself at the portal where the Conquest had been docked. Part of her was sure she was following something but the freighter was even noisier than the cruiser had been, and most of her knew she couldn't be sure of anything.

She whimpered when she came to another door ripped apart like the airlock. She trembled, near to tears, as she stepped through into the cabin. She had to slap her hand over her mouth to cover the hysterical sobs. She knew she could do no more for him, the man who had begged for rescue. She knew he was beyond her help, broken as he was, and yet she ached with guilt.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry." She took a minute to compose herself. To settle her stomach.

Her mother. She could still do something for her mother. It was up to her to stop that... thing.

She wiped at her cheeks as she walked back through the freighter. Distance proved useful, as her senses were less fogged by the device in the cruiser's hold. She could feel something dark moving slowly and set off toward it. Back through the mangled airlock, she hurried. She kept her blade off but in hand, ready to ignite at a moment's notice. She wandered a bit until she found a different elevator, one that would bring her out behind the presence. It was moving toward the storage hold, and Sheefa knew she had to catch up.

She winced when the elevator gave a loud ping to announce its presence, but there was nothing for it. She skipped down the hall, leaping from the ball of her foot to the ball of her foot, a long and loping gait, and moving as silently and quickly as she was able. She didn't dare open herself up to the Force so close to that device again, instead relying on her years of hand-to-hand training. The closer she got to where she felt the droid must be, the more she slowed.

"Well."

Sheefa's blood ran cold.

"Well well well."

A pure kind of fear, like she had never known before. She turned slowly, mouth agape, as Darth Nazaya stepped up behind her.

"My favorite pupil's favorite pupil." Nazaya's too-wide eyes and uneven grin set her teeth on edge. "I'm so glad I ran into you. This ship has me all turned around."

"Have you seen it?" Sheefa whispered hoarsely. "Have you heard it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Nazaya said, striding confidently past her.

"The droid. It-it killed the crew, and it—"

"Should be no concern for a Sith!" the Darth shouted. After a moment, she paused, blinking, and composed herself quickly. "Now. Where is that sister of yours?"

Sheefa backed away, feeling Nazaya was encroaching on her without the smaller woman having moved at all, and nodded over her shoulder.

"Good. Let's go have a little chat."

Sheefa led the way, though she couldn't stop herself from looking back over her shoulder constantly. Something was coming. Even without reaching out to the Force, she could feel it bearing down on her.

***

"There you are," Nazaya boomed.

Vaux'avh froze at her terminal, and immediately looked sideways toward her mother. "My Lord," she said, turning almost smoothly.

Nazaya craned her head to the side, looking past her Apprentice to the reddish-brown construct in the corner, as she crossed the room. "Do you know how many years I've waited to get my hands on a Rakatan reliquary like this?"

Vaux'avh stepped to the side, gesturing toward it, as her Master walked past to inspect it closely. Sheefa moved to stand before their mother, and did her best to be as invisible as possible.

"Magnificent," Nazaya said, as she laid her left hand on it. "Ten thousand years old, and yet it still hums with power." Her right hand slipped back inside her cloak, and everyone gasped when she produced her lightsaber and buried the blade inside the device. Lights flared from the corners, and along the edges of the construct, and Nazaya smiled as she carved indiscriminantly. Jagged lines and sloping curves. Little by little, the lights on the construct went dark.

The cruiser groaned fearsomely.

"Now," the Darth said, her voice even and calm as she walked away from the smoking, sparking heap. She took deep, even breaths through her nostrils and smiled. "I like you, Vaux'avh."

"Thank you," Vaux'avh said, stiffly adding, "My Lord" a moment later.

"I have several Apprentices. You've probably assumed as much, though I've kept you all to separate tasks and, often, in separate systems." Nazaya wrapped one hand around the other wrist against the small of her back, and stood up to her full height. "Never more than five but not less than three. I have four currently, and you're the only one who returns to Dromund Kaas. Did you know I've never had another Apprentice last more than three years?"

"No."

The little Darth stalked to the side, but always her head was turned to stare straight, albeit tiltedly, at Vaux'avh. "Some move on to different positions within the Empire, but most die. Some of those are in the field, but most are by my hand either because they sought to supplant me or, more likely, gross incompetence. Did you know that?"

"No."

"How many years have you been with me, Apprentice?"

Vaux'avh swallowed. "Thirteen."

"Thirteen years," Nazaya sang. "Quite remarkable, wouldn't you say?"

Vaux'avh said nothing.

"At face value, most other Sith would write you off as either incompetent or lacking the..." Nazaya ran her tongue over her teeth as she stared. "... instinct... befitting a true Sith." A shudder ran through the short human. "Of course, they would be wrong. I know you. I know you down to your filthy, despicable core, don't I?"

Vaux'avh nodded, straightening ever so slightly.

"Yes. I've seen the real you. I've seen the ugly side of you." She stalked a little closer to Vaux'avh, peering wondrously upward at the taller Mirialan. "I've seen you violating your mother, and now your sister. I've seen every second of it." Sheefa shivered, cheeks flushing, and a small whimper escaped from her lips. Nazaya and Vaux'avh continued to stare at each other, unflinchingly, but Nazaya smiled just a little bit wider. "I have leverage over you. We have a deal. You serve, and I allow you to stay where you are. You are free to indulge in your depravities, and I keep your secret. That's the deal."

Vaux'avh nodded again, tightly.

"And what a deal!" Nazaya shouted, turning to address the empty space around them. "I mean, your talent for violence is just..." She breathed deeply through her nose, so obviously intoxicated by the memory of it, and exhaled with a long, pleased sigh. "I often follow you, you know. Visiting the sites I send you to so that I can wade through the carnage you leave behind."

Vaux'avh narrowed her gaze.

"Your talent for death is beyond words, Apprentice." Nazaya closed her eyes, still running through fields of pleasant memories. "The bodies you left behind at Harbinger Station, for example."

Sheefa did not know how Vaux'avh could stand so close to the woman. How she could stay so unperturbed.

"When I stand there, among your victims, I can see it all unfolding before my eyes. The path you take through them is as sublime as it is efficient. Utterly exquisite." Her eyes refocused with a sharp breath, and she turned toward Sheefa. "She courts death. Dancing along the precipice, above the eternal chasm we are all destined for." She held the younger Mirialan's gaze until Sheefa turned away, and smiled. "Every move you make is so beautifully calculated. The Tarwin Massacre, executed to near perfection...

"...except for Private Thurlish."

Vaux'avh froze.

"An odd place to begin your slaughter." She turned toward Sheefa again and addressed her. "You can usually tell who dies first in bedlam like that. Their weapons will still be stowed, or unfired. Their expression will be confused rather than pained. Surprised. They'll die sitting down instead of on their feet." Moving closer with every word.

"I... I don't," Sheefa stammered.

"Don't worry, my dear." Sheefa flinched when Nazaya reached up to touch her face. "I'm building to my point." She patted Sheefa's cheek, hard enough to almost qualify as a slap, and continued her pacing. "Private Audren Thurlish. A junior communications officer. Third grade. It's poetic that so small a person, and so small a slip-up, should be your downfall."

Sweat was pouring down Vaux'avh's face.

"I could scarcely believe it when I realized you had begun your slaughter with such a lowly, miserable target. It was such an aberration. Such an oddity. A room full of military targets, Sith targets, and you choose to kill a boy who most likely would have just... run away. He had peed himself, you know. You wasted your deception and exposed yourself to kill someone of no significance." Nazaya smiled. "Except Private Thurlish was not an insignificant target, was he?"

"You looked into him," Vaux'avh said.

"I did."

Vaux'avh nodded, breathing slowly. "And?"

"You know what I found." The two of them stared at each other, briefly, before turning to her. Both of them looking toward her. Sheefa took a step back, toward her mother. "Thurlish was selling information to the Jedi. And not just any Jedi."

"That's how Toberin found us at Indelyu's compound," the older Mirialan said. "I killed him to... protect you."

"That's not all you did," Nazaya said, grinning widely. Vaux'avh's head whipped back to her, hackles raised. "Is it?"

The older Mirialan remained silent.

"I reached out to the disgraced Master Toberin, and he gave me the most interesting little puzzle piece. He told me you broke into his ship. How pedestrian." She chuckled, and spun on her heel. "Sheefa, would you like to make a guess as to what was stolen?"

Sheefa stammered, mouth hanging open. "Is that why you left? On that moon? The... the important task you had to see to right then."

"Yes," Vaux'avh admitted, and Sheefa was unnerved by how honest her expression was.

"It was their star charts," Nazaya said, as she walked past Sheefa. "That was what she left to steal, leaving you all alone to face criticism from your former Masters. To face their judgement." Sheefa just stared at her older sister uncomprehendingly. "Such a mundane thing, isn't it? I mean, star charts. I admit, I was quite disappointed in you, Apprentice."

Vaux'avh smiled, bitterly.

"Star charts. Star charts. Star charts." Nazaya paced a bit more. "Thirteen years as my Apprentice, serving in the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge. Over the years, you would have had access to a countless number of star charts. That took some time to noodle out."

"I'm sorry," Vaux'avh said, looking back at her. Her shoulders, slumped ever so slightly.

"At first, I thought you were looking for something. Following some mystery of your own. An object of power to supplement your existing talents." Nazaya smiled. "I'll admit that, for a brief moment, I was proud of you. Taking steps to unseat me, and replace me. But that line of thought always came around to the same problem, one which I'm sure was part of your design in the first place; I have safeguards to expose you should you cross me."

"I'm so sorry."

"For years, I've felt comfortable having you so far under my thumb. Indulging you, and forgiving your predilections to have such a talented Apprentice for my own. My complacency has allowed you to run unchecked for too long."

"What is she talking about?" Sheefa insisted.

"She's planning on running away," Nazaya whispered, and Vaux'avh crumbled. Just a little bit. "I suspect she was planning on taking you and your mother with her."

The older Mirialan nodded emphatically, sniffling.

"She's been searching for a planet no one knows about. Putting her grubby little hands on every object she could to get at, before it's cataloged and entered into the Imperial registry, to find a new home. That's why you needed a set of Republic charts too, isn't it? Something to cross-reference against, because the Republic won't be too happy with you if they find you. Either of you. Not now."

"I'm so sorry."

Nazaya breathed deeply, sheer bliss drawing her lips wide. "To think of all that time and effort you spent, pretending to debase yourself and those close to you, when you knew I was watching. Because you knew I was watching!"

Sheefa asked, "Is this true?" and hated the way her voice squeaked.

Vaux'avh stared at her middle, unable to meet Sheefa's gaze. "I had to. I... I-I had to."

"Of course she did," Nazaya said, clasping Sheefa's shoulder tightly. "Any rival of hers would have immediately sorted out that you and your mother were weaknesses. They would have come at you, or Vulva, to get to her. They would have killed you to hurt her. You would have been a liability. That's what made this so insidious. I've been quietly eliminating her rivals for her, in the interest of keeping my prized, devoted Apprentice."

"It was all an act?!" Her voice reached shrill proportions.

Vaux'avh opened her mouth, stammering, but Nazaya talked over her. "She would have you think that. Regardless of her intentions, I think she rather came to like abusing the two of you." She walked behind Sheefa, and whispered, "It was in her eyes. The dark side of the Force is powerful, but that strength comes with... complications. Those hooks are set deep, child."

Vaux'avh unclipped her lightsaber and ignited the blade, glaring fiercely as Nazaya took a step past her stunned younger sister. A step toward their mother. Nazaya's eyes lit up with a malicious glee.

"How could you?" Sheefa cried.

"I had to save her," Vaux'avh said, though her voice was unsteady. "You weren't old enough. You didn't see what was done to her. What they did every night."

"How is that better than what you've done to her since? What you've done to me?!"

"They were worse!" she snapped back. "They beat her, and abused her. They broke her because they could!" Tears flowed freely from the corners of her eyes. "I was too young to... I was too young!" She sniffed loudly, finding a bit more composure before she continued. "I took the quickest path I could find to go back. The quickest path to strength." A dark aura flared around her. "It was a Sith that brought me back there. I killed them. I killed all of them... but..."

"But then he knew," Nazaya said, hungrily pouncing on a pause to insert her own guesses. "Your former Master. He knew how to threaten you. He knew where to push. Tell me, did you kill him?"

"Yes," Vaux'avh hissed, teeth clenched. Nazaya beamed. "I couldn't leave her behind. I couldn't leave her somewhere safe. They'd broken her completely. She couldn't take care of herself! There was so little of her... spark. She needed me. I promised her I would come back for her when I left. For both of you. I promised."

Sheefa turned to look over her shoulder. Their mother was still kneeling, and though her expression was as emotionless as ever, there were tears in her eyes.

The Darth swelled with pride. "I love being right. Taking a thread, a niggling little end like Private Thurlish, and chasing it down to the very end. The unravelling." She rose up on the tips of her right foot, and twirled like a dancer. "Ugh. I'm impressed that you managed to deceive me at all, let alone for so long." She turned and walked slowly across the room, away from Vulva and Sheefa. "Of course, you can't be allowed to go, but you know that."

"Naturally," Vaux'avh said, taking the opportunity to take a step in front of Vulva. The fear was gone from her voice, as was the fire. There was only resignation left, and it was a strange tone coming from her mouth. Sheefa regarded her warily as she approached, and Vaux'avh lowered her voice. "I will make it up to you. I promise."

Sheefa turned back to look at Vulva again, and nodded slowly.

"I can't have it getting out that my favored Apprentice deceived me."

"Naturally."

Nazaya turned back toward them, and withdrew her fire-red lightsaber. Snap-hiss. She calmly regarded them and smiled as if something had just occurred to her. "I almost forgot to tell you the good news! I've already found a suitable replacement for you, and the terms of his service are surprisingly similar to your own!" She half-turned, head tilted toward them, as Sain Toberin lumbered through the wide doorway. Sheefa gasped at the sight of him, as much from the surprise as from his disheveled and deranged appearance.

He grunted, staring single-mindedly at Sheefa. His lightsaber blazed to life in his meaty hand.

"Over my dead body," Vaux'avh snarled, stepping forward.

"Yes," laughed Nazaya. "That's the idea."

The four of them squared off. Sheefa was the last to ignite her blade, and found she could not keep the dread at bay.

"They will kill her," Vaux'avh said. "If you're lucky, they will kill her."

"I hate you for bringing this on us."

Vaux'avh turned her head, with a sad sort of smile, and nodded. "Finally. Something we agree on."

Suddenly, the room filled with the screeching sound of durasteel giving way to tremendous pressure. A shear squealing at the very highest register ears can process. Sheefa turned, but before she could spot the source of the sound, the source of the sound came to them. It landed heavily, sending up a swell of dust in every direction around it. Sheefa had to raise her arm to shield her eyes.