If she had been used to defying orders more without paying the penalty
for that defiance perhaps she'd have told Sinclair more firmly to leave
her on Quesh. But he had turned out to be right. Defiance only could
go so far against innate authority though, the Chiss bowing her head to
the inevitable and ceasing her griping.
The insistence on company had been... needed. Once she'd set foot on
the installation there;d been memories and echoes and she'd put a hand
to the wall not just to touch it but to steady herself. Something had
started to happen, rifle falling from numb fingers, feeling her knees
hit the uneven ground without conscious decision to kneel, and sleep had
beckoned. But a sharp voice had spoken and she'd found herself in a
safe haven of sorts, awake later in the Rose's medical bay.
At the edge of her mind a voice still ate at her thoughts, whispering
just past conscious hearing. It teased her with maddening requests, Ker
finding her lips moving and half-uttering phrases that made no sense.
Protocols and targets and the Chiss pulled her knees up, shivering in
the medical shift; her mind seemed to stutter, trying to make up the
differences in thought patterns of two disparate people. Her nerves
were either quiet or screamed for action, long years of training keeping
her still on the bed and feet firmly planted on the Csillan Rose.
Nearby she'd spotted another Chiss in the medical wing, Ker's eyes
hollowing as she'd looked at Ohkirr's form. Guilt hedged her movements
and instead of saying something she'd tried to leave. Because flight
was easier than understanding her own actions, sometimes, though before
she'd always had hunting or work to sink in to. But the medical doors
had remained closed and she'd remained in place, biting back an apology
she wanted to offer and ignoring the cold voice that kept whispering
about being successful later.
---
She'd tried. Helm pulled off as she walked down the halls of the
'Rose, Ker tilted her head back, sweat-damp hair falling away from her
hairs as she shook her head. She'd tried. She had meant every word
she'd said to the Aristocra, that she believed he could succeed without
sinking to the other Aristocra's level of sabotage. That he could
succeed by being himself, his persona, his genial mask instead of the
killer that she knew could have handled the situation with blood on his
hands.
She tore off the blue and black armor feeling like a cheat. She'd known
her duty - she knew how to sweep a room, how to stand protector. They
were all tasks she had done - and more - for the Sith she worked for.
But with the Sith she'd kept her thoughts to herself, unflinching no
matter the topic or tasks given but with her own people... She'd known
Aleris had been uncomfortable, the two had softly spoken while the
council met. She could deduce why readily enough, given the topic and
that Aleris had mentioned being called out. Mind control. Sith. She'd
been helping the Chiss fend off inquisitive Intelligence sniffers using
an I.C.E. breaker developed only for official Cipher usage and instead
of staying she'd left.
Left her I.C.E. with a civilian unqualified and not cleared to use it.
Left her appointed duty behind, leaving others to guard the Aristocra.
Left the room's security in the hands of others, left her people behind
without giving them a thought. She'd been selfish, letting her own
thoughts and feelings overwhelm what she knew was her task.
She'd nearly left the Rose then, nearly gone back to Korriban's cold
sands to await her fate. Nearly gone back to her Sith and their House,
but no longer a House she could think of as her own, not after... he'd
said he wanted her to think, to actually think. And something had
snapped then, leaving her with a gaping hole in what she'd put devotion
to and nothing new to set her loyalties towards. And then he'd asked
where she wanted to be, feet and mind telling her it was Korriban's
sands and winds. They were almost close enough to work- but it was hard
to lie to someone when everything else was breaking and shattered in
her hands and thoughts.
She'd been sitting on the floor of the Rose, tucked into a nook with the armor pressed against the sides, head in her hands. "It's
time to go home." "Even for someone like me?" "Especially someone like
you." "And if it doesn't work out, what then?" "It will." No
platitudes. No soft words, just a firm conviction strong enough Ker was
willing to put her trust in it. A tentative trust that extended beyond
just the man himself but to the people he worked and fought beside, the
people on the odd ship she was now aboard.
She still was thankful that no one had been actually around, security
systems notwithstanding, to see her huddled in a corner of the armory
with her arms pulled over her head shaking. She could have some dignity
left.
---
It'd been no small feat to actually make it back to Korriban for the
summons, the Chiss still keeping to her civvies look though her hair was
pulled back sharply again, the sleep smudged away so it no longer
clouded her eyes. Standing in the cool sands in light garb she'd felt a
keen shiver of wanting home, hiding the tremble in her limbs with a
shift of her feet. On the dais stood three Purebloods, red eyes taking
their forms in. Darth N'Zzod, Darth Vukal, and Darth Sidhorn. The
three main Darths in House Vukal. The three Sith who held her
assignment, disposition in Imperial space in their hands.
Three Sith she no longer knew how she felt towards. But she knew better
than to show the weakness and confusion around them, though she'd
already shown her weaknesses to N'Zzod. On one level, she respected the
predators the Purebloods were - on another she wanted to bare her
teeth, strip them of the Force, and see how well they fared in the real
world, one where they weren't gods. She buried that feeling down deep,
knowing it'd be death.
She'd never thought it before. She'd never realized she could think
that about a Sith, about any Sith, even if it was for a fleeting moment
of fancy. She'd never realized she could be anything but loyal, and
that realization kept most of her attention diverted until she realized
the Sith were passing judgment. Judgment she wondered if they knew
was.... secondary?
But then Darth Vukal had given his orders and they'd been not anything
she'd expected - to return home. To get healed. To become whole. To
be who and what she was supposed to be. A promise she gave to the Sith,
even if for her the words carried multiple meanings. A second implicit
promise to Darth N'Zzod, Ker flinching as the hood was thrown at her
feet, the Chiss picking it up and carefully rolling it before adding it
to her belt.
Standing there on the cold sands beneath the three Purebloods of the
House she was given a release from her duties and told to return home.
And then... return? Of her own volition?
Compassion from a Sith was disquieting. Compassion from three Sith was
moreso. Her hands went to the belt, pulling out the rolled up hooded
mask that Lady N'Zzod had tossed down to her; the Chiss ran an ungloved
hand over the object, reflexively tapping the object and stroking the
material. She felt... set free. A weight gone from her shoulders but
at the same time perched on the edge of a world she no longer had set
boundaries to obey. It was dangerous, this freedom, the concept
scenting the very air; she didn't quite know what to do.
It was a freedom she still felt like shackles around her wrists,
wondering the games that had been played. Lady N'Zzod wanted her to
pass her greetings on to the Aristocra, Lord Vukal wanted her - but had
only asked - for her to update him. Then here had been the lady
Naomh... It had been a skillful game of defiance to tell the Sith 'no'
in the most polite way possible.
Maybe she could start to define herself by... things she discovered she
didn't want to do. Small little ways to build the picture of herself up
into a whole person, one ruled only by her own mind, her own desires.
Maybe then she'd know what it was like to be free.
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