"When I am the sanest person in the room, it's time to run."
Man, how I had missed training. Something as simple pushing your body just a little bit further than I did yesterday, about feeling that familiar ache in the limbs grow just a bit more intense, about finally doing with trivial ease what had once seemed insurmountable.
Back home, back when I was just… no, back when I was still entirely me, but without space magic, it had been stuff like getting a mile time below eight minutes, cranking out fifty pushups in less than three minutes, or finally nailing that perfect parry.
Here?
Here a floating target drone punished my internal monologue by triggering a shock collar.
My limbs seized, locking up. My arms tightened against my chest, with my legs collapsing less than a second later when a burst of stun bolts slammed into my chest. I was knocked to the ground of the otherwise abandoned training hall, my practice saber clattering to the ground. Above me, the spherical target drone floated serenely.
A single chirp pierced the air, one I had learned to translate back during my first training session with it after arriving in this galaxy: get up. While not a literal translation, I felt it got the point across much better.
"Apprentice," my master's voice cut into my thoughts, interrupting my focus. Thankfully, it also interrupted the practice drone, which came to a prompt halt at eye-level. It rotated slowly, indicative of its stand-by mode.
"My lord," I said, powering down the practice saber. In truth, it was little more than a broomstick with the business end of a vibroblade strapped to it, but it was still a dangerous weapon and a valuable learning tool. "Did something come up?"
"That is one way of putting it," he said airily. "I have received word that a number of apprentices on Dromund Kaas have taken it upon themselves to arrange a social get-together tonight. You are to attend."
"So I'm crashing a party?" I asked. "That seems dangerously undiplomatic."
"The event is open invitation," he pointed out with an indulgent smile. "You will attend, make a few allies, and report back to me at first light."
"At or by first light?" I asked. It was quite a difference. One required I report at some point before the sun came up. The other demanded I report as the sun came up. Since I could not rely on my mind to remember what happened before I fell asleep, that meant one option was far more appealing than the other, at least in one regard. Regarding maintaining my circadian rhythm, however...
My master gave only a smile before gesturing to the door. Right, because why would it ever be clear?
Still, at least I had time for a shower and a change before I was shuttled across Kaas City. For the capital city of an interstellar empire, it was rather disappointing. Underdeveloped infrastructure, plain architecture, and perpetual rain and darkness. The place hardly even felt alive.
Fortunately, I did not have to spend long there; The airspeeder had dropped me off outside of a seedy bar somewhere on the edge of the inner city, which was when I realized two things.
First, I hated this city. I had yet to see the sun in my entire time on the world, the perpetual rain and dampness was impossible to escape, and I could hear another Sith on what was presumably a hunt. Best not to think what they were hunting. Secondly, this bar was a lot nicer than I had been expecting. Mostly because it lacked a pile of corpses piled waist-high outside, or blaster burns decorating the outside walls.
That assessment lasted all of five seconds before someone was tossed out the front door. The blessedly traditional front door, swinging on a hinge instead of sliding on a rail, simply gave away instead of getting knocked off. On the ground, the man groaned. Not the groan of the terribly injured, that sound people made when there was literally nothing else, they were physically capable of saying, but rather the groan of the recently hungover.
Which boded well for me.
"On your feet, friend," I said by way of greeting, extending a hand to the man on the ground. He wasn't dead, that much was obvious. And whatever brain damage he had received was most likely within acceptable standard deviations. For a Sith.
For a brief moment, the man on the ground stared blankly ahead as though thoroughly determined to prove my assertion incorrect. It was enough for me to recognize the clearly Sith cut of his robes and the lightsaber at his waist, but little else before his eyes finally focused on me.
"If that's the best you can do, just wait 'til I…" he muttered, utterly refusing my hand in favor of slowly rising on his own strength. All it did was give the rain more of an opportunity to soak into that black tunic of his, but that was his problem. And mine, given that I was stuck in the same rain as he. "Who are you?"
"Nestor, apprentice to Lord Egatio," I said, letting my hand drop to my side. Clearly, helpfulness was wasted on this particular Sith. "I got wind of an open invitation event. Seemed like a shame to miss out."
"We'll see how long you think that," he muttered, shaking his head as if that would help clear it. "Damn it all, she must have hit me harder than I thought; The tinnitus got turned to gibberish."
Fortunately, I was wearing the mask that my master had made part of my uniform, so my expression remained hidden.
"Oi, Hibal, what's taking you so long?" a muffled voice called from the inside. Definitely female, definitely Sith, and therefore belonging to a person who was reasonably likely to get me killed. Or just kill me directly and skip the hassle of a plan.
At least I had gotten his name. That would come in handy… at some point. Probably.
The other Sith – Hibal, according to one of the other occupants – stumbled back into the building. I deciding that being caught behind a person being thrown outside was not optimal, waited a few seconds before following him in.
The bar itself was a welcome departure from imperial chic. Missing were the dark grey surfaces with chrome edges and stark lighting. Instead, the furniture was dark and well-worn wood and leather, all illuminated by dim yellow lighting. I was no interior decorator, but I greatly preferred this.
More notably, however, the place was almost entirely empty. The bar had been rented out for the night, it must Save for a droid tending the bar, the only occupants sat at the table opposite the door.
All of them clearly Sith. Some wore the usual robes, some wore armor, some even had red skin with the occasional facial tendrils. But far more importantly, they all bore lightsabers.
Mine, by contrast, was still little more than a prop.
"Stars above, it's getting louder…" one of the Sith at the table muttered as Hibal staggered back to his seat. Genuinely a Sith, with red skin and short tendrils sprouting from his cheekbones. "Please tell me you can hear it too?"
I ignored his words, focusing on the individual who was clearly 'holding court', so to speak. No doubt she had been the one to rent out the bar for the night. The Sith sitting at the head of the table was clad in what I could only call casual battle armor, that odd blend of a fitted jumpsuit and the occasional piece of armor plating. She was ignoring the complaining Sith, as well as the Sith who had gotten thrown out onto the street.
All to glare at me.
"Finally, someone new!" Rather unexpectedly, another Sith on the outside of the table had the good graces to welcome me. He, too, wore the alleged armor so popular among the Sith. "For a while, I was afraid it would be the same group as it always is."
"I aim to surprise," I said simply, slowly sidling up to the table.
"Not everyone takes well to that." Finally, the glaring Sith chose to speak. "Nestor, was it? Apprentice to Lord Egatio?"
Oh good, she had heard of me.
Oh shit, she had heard of me.
"The one and only," I said, projecting a calmness that I most certainly did not feel. "I see that my reputation precedes me."
"Some reputation…" the red Sith grumbled before unsteadily climbing to his feet. His drink, I noted, was left barely started on the table. And while his stumbling exit to the door freed up space for me to sit, I opted for an unoccupied chair taken from an unused table.
"Is he going to be alright?" I asked the remaining Sith.
"Eventually," Hibal commented, leaning back in his chair. "Levin was always a bit too good at reading minds; Too many people in one place combined with the drinks must have been too much for him."
Yes, the drink had done that. Certainly, the drink and the number of people around him, that had to be it. There was no other explanation, like a certain Sith Apprentice with very loud thoughts deciding to think in a language that did not exist in this galaxy.
Little Jedi, my thanks for the heads up.
Before we got any further with the insults, veiled threats, and who knows what else, we were interrupted by the affairs of the greater galaxy.
"Breaking news from the northern border with the Republic," a voice in a familiar imperial accent called out. Above our head, the holoprojector came back on, displaying reassuringly normal scene onto the table. The co-anchors of the local news network, obviously both human, flickered into blue-scale focus with a graphic suspended in the air between them as the male cohost continued. "Partisan sentiments are coming to a fever pitch across the neutral worlds to the galactic north!"
"The citizens are calling for action," the co-anchor confirmed. "But what does this mean for the Empire? And what is the Republic's role in this? For some more context on the situation, we go to our local correspondent…"
The display sputtered out almost immediately afterwards. But not because someone unseen had hit a button, no. That would have been too mundane for the Sith; some lunatic had torn the projector from its housing and thrown it onto another table.
Good. Another measured and sane response from my prospective allies. Great.
Wait, I was going to get sent to that dumpster fire the reporters mention a moment ago, wasn't I?
...
Hey guys I would really appreciate it if you could throw some power stones to help elevate the ranking.
...
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