Harbingers (Self-Training/Invite)

[Darth Libertas]

The concentration of the Zabrak Sith slipped for two or three heartbeats as terrible agony surged through her brain. She split her mind as Sumiko sought to slice it into pieces then unleashed a powerful mental shockwave of her own, blasting the claws into nothingness.


Two or three heartbeats had been all Sumiko needed to be free of the Force Drain attack. Drawing upon this power was a double-edged sword. For whilst it could sustain you, grant you strength and weaken your opponent, each time it was used your hunger increased, to a point where it could become an addiction. Having the act of feeding so abruptly broken off weakened her opponent. In the aftermath of the mental strike the Zabrak was left panting, resembling a spice addict who had been denied her fix. Sumiko staggered as the mental shockwave crashed against her barriers, but she was prepared. Her invisible walls, which had been raised around her mind, shook strongly, but although cracks appeared in places they withstood.


Behind her she could hear the sounds of battle, then there was a loud cry as her droid sliced the arm of the other Sith and then stomped upon his throat. It was time to end this and so with a telekinetic tug she called her bolt pistol into her grasp. Electricity cackled across the open palm of the hand of the Zabrak but Sumiko was faster on the draw and squeezed the trigger, firing the gun. A bolt pistol was essentially a hand cannon, loaded with Anti-Personnel Explosive Rounds. Unarmoured organic targets were pretty much torn apart by the bullets and only very heavy armour offered effective protection.


BAANG The bolt pistol roared loudly as a round exited it. The Zabrak had been too slow to dodge but managed to throw up a basic Force shield. The lightning strike she had been preparing was fired on reflex, with sparks flying as a blast of electricity struck the ceiling. Sumiko grit her teeth as lightning coiled around her, but was undeterred and fired once more. The bullet penetrated the chest wall and badly damaged the Sith's lung, making her cough up blood. Internal injuries of this nature were...very nasty. It was evident that she was now very short of breath, coughing and wheezing out blood in fine droplets. A gurgle was heard when the droid stomped upon the throat of the Sith acolyte it had been fighting, ending his life.


Gripping her bolt pistol with both hands, since trying to fire the thing one-handed was a sure way to get your wrist broken due to the absurd recoil, Sumiko took aim, intending to fnish her opponent off. However, as it turned out the Zabrak was not yet beaten and still had fight inside her. All of a sudden the two dead bodies began to rise into the air and shoot towards Sumiko, coming at her from opposing sides. Likewise the Sith's deactivated lightsabre was pulled into the air and ignited with a snap-hiss into a flash of green light, being propelled towards her skull. Reacting quickly and feeling just a bit annoyed Sumiko exerted her telekinetic will to unleash a powerful force push, sending the improvised projectiles slamming into a wall.


However, it was only then that she realised she had underestimated her opponent. Her danger senses flared but it was too late and she cried out in pain when suddenly a sharp, very painful object oozing the corruption of the Dark Side pierced her back and was driven in deeply. Shocked by the impact and the force behind it, she dropped down to the cold, hard ground. Just a bit further and she would be dead. Using the brief distraction the Zabrak had fashioned a Spear of Midnight Black out of the power of the void. Anger arose inside Sumiko like bile in her stomach and in effort of will she gripped the spear and ripped it apart.


She staggered, struggling to maintain her balance, then abruptly orange tendrils of malevolent energy leapt from her mouth and engulfed the Zabrak. All the rage festering inside her was unleashed in an outburst of hunger as she sucked the Zabrak dry. Weakened as she was the Sith had no defence to muster against her onslaught and after all that had happened, Sumiko was very hungry and so she gourged herself upon her adversary, who was in the process of bleeding out anyway. Oh, yes, it was glorious and she would make the queen pay. As she leeched her opponent of energy she could feel herself strengthening and wounds seemingly healing, yet rather than abate her hunger only increased. Overcome by the intoxicating sensation, she allowed the beast to take over and gave herself over completely to her hunger. Then finally the Sith's life was ended when she snapped her neck, whereupon Sumiko slumped, the sweet scent of death permeating the air of the freighter.

 

[Darth Libertas]

Unconsciousness claimed her as the Morpheus held Sumiko in a vice grip, never letting go as he pulled her into his realm. All intruders had been slain, their bodies strewn across the freighter. However, they were not out of the woods yet, for all of a sudden the ship shook and shuddered powerfully when salvoes unleashed by starfighters impacted upon it. Shields were badly weakened, hyperdrive nonresponsive and apparently offline.


"Engage in evasive manoeuvres and get them off our back. I'll deal with the hyperdrive," Sumiko hissed to the droid, who obediently made haste to the cockpit of the vessel. Very soon the freighter was spinning in what could only be described as wild evasive manoeuvres, the sort only a droid or an organic blessed with the power of the Force was capable of, as it tried to dive through the hailstorm of missiles and laserfire that shot its way.


As Sumiko crawled towards the engines she could feel some grim satisfaction when her freighter unleashed a barrage of laserfire upon the attackers. In space there is no sound, though it is often depicted as such, but then the same applies to explosions. Two attacking fighters melted like snow before a supernova when the crimson bolts of death fried them, then torpedoes streamed from the batteries to find home in a freighter.


But still fighters kept coming and unleashing their payload. Such was the speed of the manoeuvres the droid pilot indulged in that at one point the ship lurched so strongly that Sumiko was thrown across the room. Grunting in annoyance and pain as she got up she took a deep breath as she laid her hand upon the hyperdrive. Her mechu-deru senses sprang into action as she narrowed her down bit by bit, taking in every element of the engines, then finally she called upon her power to warp and manipulate, willing the hyperdrive to once more come to life as she exerted her power to repair the damage done to it.


From beyond the the freighter she could sense fighters approaching, a swarm of them intent on encircling the freighter and cutting it off. She could feel the rage and violent intent emanating from them, feel their weapons being prepped as they fixed their sights upon her ship. With an Atrisian curse escaping her lips she pulled at the tangled web of the Force and let all her power flow into the hyperdrive. All the energy she had gained by draining her opponent earlier. Doubtless one day there would be a price to be paid for the cravings the act had activated inside her, but for now that was the furthest thing from her mind. Such was the exertion that her head felt like it was spinning and suffering from a headache from hell, but she nonetheless persisted, then sparks flew when the hyperdrive came to life again.


Electrical sparks surged through her hand and she yelped when she felt a painful burn. Through the depths of space missiles shot towards the ship, coming closer and closer...then the freighter accelerated and jumped to hyperspace. As the blue, shimmering tunnel welcomed her ship, Sumiko collapsed upon the ground and fell into unconsciousness. She would end up being found by the droid and carried into the small medbay of the freighter, put down to lay on the bed and patched up by a medical droid as much as possible. Somewhere in the depths of Chaos, the ghost of Sorzus Syn laughed.

 

[Darth Libertas]

Force Drain was a strong tool in the arsenal of a Dark Knight. But it was also addictive. Any time one utilised this skill, one came closer to falling of the slippery slope. Hunger could be a tool...but by the same token also easily become your master.


Sumiko had heard tales of those who had mastered this power...and in the end their addiction had burnt them out, depriving them of their sensitivity to the Force. Indeed, during her time amongst the Bando Gora this had happened to one of their Sorcerers. He had gotten his heart torn out as a sacrifice to the Chaos Gods he had so fervently worshipped in life, for to lose the Force could only be seen as a sign of their disfavour.


The taste of power when she unleashed this dark gift had been intoxicating. She had experienced a sensation of rapturous delight when she sucked the Sith dry...but it could easily be her undoing if she did not take great care. It could not be a power she allowed herself to rely on, only a fallback. Nor could it be a substitute for true healing, even less than Dark Repair could be.



Deep within the realm of Morpheus Sumiko dreamt and slept soundly while the freighter slipped through hyperspace and a medical droid worked her over. It was a sleep as peaceful as that of a new-born baby, so strongly at odds with the violence she had experienced and dished out. No torturous memories of the suffering she had endured in Atrisia's dungeons haunted her, nor was she by the same token tormented by the murders she had committed. The Inquisitor had been a hunter, delivering deaths to enemies of the state in defence of Atrisia. Some had undoubtedly deserved death, but a great many had been innocent and died solely because the State had desired it.


Now, to the Atrisian people, she was a traitor herself. It was ironic how things could change. In her quest for understanding she had bathed in the knowledge of the Sith and soaked it up, but this did not trouble her, for she was the captain of her fate and the mistress of her soul, or so she liked to think. Hubris? Most certainly. The flashes of vision she had experienced under the tutelage of Sorzus while she opened herself to the Dark Side visited her again. Before her eyes was a fathomless void...pure emptiness, endless to the naked eye.


For a few moments she dreamt of subjugating Moira Skaldi to her will, undoing her would-be machine empire by bending it to the will of an organic. It was an image that was most appealing to her mind, for it would be the perfect revenge. As the engines hummed and the ship kept traversing the blue, shimmering void, Sumiko abruptly awoke, her eyes fluttering open as she took in her surroundings, still feeling very groggy, though she soon realised that she was lying inside the medbay.

 

[Darth Libertas]

In the timeless tradition of medical droids, this one liked to fuss over its patients. Whether they wanted it or not. Even if the particular patient in question was quite capable of blowing the droid up with her mind or assuming direct control over it. There were some things that never changed.


"You have been under great strain and exerted yourself far too much, Mistress. You need far more care and rest than already provided. I strongly advise that you stay in bed," the machine droned out. Despite the mechanical tone it still managed to sound like a very good imitation of a prim and proper doctor.


Sumiko, however, hated hospitals. Well, it could be debated whether a medbay counted as one, but in her mind it did. Maybe she had inherited this trait from a certain [member="Mirien Valdier"]! "I will not be commanded around by a machine. Especially one that's my property," she declared a bit arrogantly, brushing the droid's comments aside as if they were buzzing insects.


"Fine, fine, if you wish to run a Marathon and tussle with Dark Lords, so be it. I am merely a machine enthralled by your will, designed to patch you up after your heroics, if there's enough to put back together." Could droids get huffy? Well, this one certainly seemed like it was.


Sumiko felt an urge to punish the machine for its insubordination by reprogramming it, but then stifled that. She was not sure whether she would have the energy and, moreover, it would just prove its point. Besides, its snarkiness was somewhat endearing at times. "At least you do the patching up well, machine. What is our status? Where are we?"


"B-One, the poor machine you keep abusing and putting back together, got us out of danger and into hyperspace. We are now en route for Fondor. It will still take a few hours of travel. Hopefully by the time we arrive the latest Lord Protector will not have decided to drop the shipyards on the planet in order to save its people from Sith occupation by murdering them."

 

[Darth Libertas]

"I see you have survived your attackers," the voice of Sorzus was dripping with haughtiness when Sumiko activated the holocron. An aura of wry amusement combined with a measure of indifference seemed to be the order of the day.


"Disappointed?" Sumiko asked sardonically. "They were Sith, I believe. Came a long way just for you. You must feel flattered." She wondered how the intruders had gotten the drop on her in the first place. Perhaps it had been the will of the Force. Any time you made a gain, the Force sought to bring about a counterreaction. Action and reaction, much like the law of thermodynamics.


Sorzus' response sounded like a disdainful snort. "Flattered by scavengers fighting over possession over me? Would you feel such a thing if insects did battle over you? In my time, only a negligible minority of what passes for Dark Lords and Knights in this aeon would have even passed the Acolyte trials before becoming fodder for the tu'kata." Apparently they were back to the 'in my time you would be but muck' stage.


Sumiko just shrugged in response, despite her annoyance with the gatekeeper's imperious manner. Upon reflection she figured it would be best to change the freighter. After sterilising it. "On the topic of how mighty and powerful the ancient Sith were, I have been thinking. Biological alchemy sounds a good deal more attractive now since I have four corpses aboard my ship. I know the ancient Sith had the power to reanimate the dead using sorcery and alchemy, starting with Dathka Graush. Tell me, what do you know about necromancy?" It was time to take the next step into the world of dark magicks. One that could either lead to her undoing or to great power.

 

[Darth Libertas]

"Interesting. The little snake has developed ambition, has she? You wish to do that, summon legions of zombies to bathe entire worlds in blood? Or bind the spirits of ancient Dark Lords to your will to let them fuel your power? How amusing."


If the gentle reader got the impression that Sorzus sounded like a mocking teacher talking to a child, then that is correct. "Necromancy is a source of great power, but it has destroyed many a Sith."


Sumiko's response was just as dry. "I imagine, Dark Lady. Creating an undead army of conquest is not my agenda. Even if I were into ruling, having power over a wasteland inhabited only by the undead seems unsatisfying. Invoking spirits to learn their secrets is something I would learn. Not binding a legion though. I imagine they would get cranky if they showed weakness. Raising the dead in the midst of combat to fight my enemies is something I desire though...as is the ability to raise them in order to learn their secrets."


A sinister smile crossed Sorzus' holographic lips. "I see you have some sense, girl. All these youngsters believe a taste of Sith magicks is the path to absolute power and conquest. Fools. If you stumble and fail, your creations will tear you apart to my amusement."


"Verily, but until then I own this holocron, by the price of iron. You are a great and knowledgeable master of alchemy, undoubtedly you know of the magics Dathka Graush utilised?" Sometimes you had to suck up to the annoying gatekeeper to get somewhere.


There was silence for a moment. Perhaps the gatekeeper was weighing whether the arse-kissing was enough to make up for the snark. Or thinking about how amusing it would be to give Sumiko a fraction of information, then watch a feral zombie bite her in the neck and turn her into a mindless, flesh-eating monster. "His knowledge is only a fraction of what I possess. He was the first to walk the road, I completed it, as I have surpassed all Sith alchemists."


"How do I create these beings then?"


"You die. Every single time you undo death you must die a little bit. The magicks you summon are unstable and very volatile. There will be pain...especially for a novice like you. You must pull on the tether that connects life and death. You must learn to sacrifice a portion of your strength to will existence to return to the body you are trying to reanimate. Your strength, your will...the greater the sacrifice, the more developed the creation will be. But be warned, it will gravely weaken you. For when you bind both sides of the Force, life and death, the abyss demands a tribute."


"In blood, for blood is life. The Dark Side demands sacrifice from its acolytes. I am familiar with blood magic from the Bando Gora. Pay the iron price, not the golden one. If I mess it up, no doubt the zombie will turn feral and try to eat me?" It was more of a statement than a question, truth be told.


"Oh, that's just one of many ways you can fail. If you are too weak and fail to control the magics, the abyss will claim you. Perhaps you will turn comatose, go mad or be deprived of your powers. The Force is a fickle mistress of life. Only a true Dark Lord can bend it to her will. Pull at the strands that connect life and death and infuse a corpse with your power, and it shall rise. I can teach you the incantation. Learn it well, for even one error will be your undoing. What you will be creating is not life, but a mere simulacrum. Ideally a slave bound to your will. A lesser being compared to the glory of the Leviathans, but useful."

 

[Darth Libertas]

Mastery over life and death.


That was what the Sith had always sought. Not merely to control all life, to decide who lived and who died...but to transcend death entirely. At least that was what the most grandiose of them sought to achieve. In truth it was the epitome of hubris. Sooner or later everyone would perish when the bell tolled for them, even stars burnt out. Sumiko would not escape the inevitable, no matter how powerful she became, and she knew this.


The event that had been widely called the Second Akala Crisis or the Netherworld Incident still fascinated scientists and arcane scholars alike, while it was a cause of fear and anxiety for the common populace. In the blink of an eye trillions of sentient beings from across the entire Galaxy had suddenly found themselves inside the underworld. The idea that one being could have such power was disconcerting enough.


Even more so was the thought that the underworld represented a true parallel dimension that could be explored like a normal realm. All of a sudden the spirits of the dead were not utterly removed from the common man, but beings that could be reached and communicated with. Even at the risk of being driven to insanity by the dangers that lurked inside the netherworld. Truly, millions of people had actually tried to enter the netherworld of their own volition, not only in search of loved ones lost during Akala's madness, but also to find long lost loves who had dies ages ago.


So great was their longing for closure. Others had tried to brave the menaces of the underworld in the hopes of gaining power and glory. On average those did not last long. Even after Akala had been cast down, rumours said that two portals remained active. There were even those who believed that the time might come when the barriers between this reality and the spirit realm might completely break down and the vengeful dead might walk the earth.


Entirely new religious cults had shot out of the ground like mushrooms in reaction to this event. They were just not presently making the headlines because the Galaxy was doing its best to forget the great cataclysm and move on. Just like they would rather avert their gaze from what had happened on poor Corellia. First the planet was devastated when Cater destroyed the space stations in orbit, then it was split in two through Akala's madness. The sheer power unleashed had been both awe-inspiring and frightening.


Trying to forget was also the rule of the day on Fondor, capital of the failing Protectorate. Its shipyards might still loom high up in orbit, its factories might still churn out the machines of war and the Protectorate soldiers paraded proudly in their power armour...but though the Omega Pyre Tower stood tall and proud, reaching up into the sky, the sun had set on the Protectors. Their glory days had long since past, now there was naught but rot, decay and stagnation. Truth be told, Sumiko was not one to complain because this state of affairs was rather convenient for her, since she had an apartment on the planet.


The freighter she had used was quickly 'disappeared' via the black market, a new one acquired and the bodies stashed away. Her free time was spent voraciously reading up on anything she could find regarding necromancy and the Sith magicks that related to it. The early experiments of Dathka Graush, of Odoacer-Faustin, Lord Scabrous and his use of murakamid orchid, finally Imperial Project 17A, codenamed Blackwing. The last one had been of particular interest to the Atrisian Empire, especially under Moff Shu, for the paranoiac dictator had feared the Sith might deploy it against Atrisia. It was probably to her benefit that during her escape from Atrisia she had been able to abscond with a few scrolls and datacards. Likewise the Scrolls of Halicanyos were a great asset, for though the information was dated by modern standards it still contained profound knowledge. When the time came for the ritual she would be prepared and so she spent days in almost total seclusion, living in what could be described as a hermit-like manner.

 

[Darth Libertas]

Abandoned warehouse? Check. Planet of death, doom and despair? Check. Corellia suited her purposes just fine. Even for someone like her it had been harrowing to see the planet broken and crushed under the collective madness and viciousness applied against it.


How ironic that the One Sith of all people had been rebuilding the planet after Cater put his own homeworld to the torch...and then Akala came along and the rest, as they say, is history. What had been left behind was a massive wound in the Force, fuelled by the deaths of billions. Something festered in the broken heart of Corellia, it grew and hungered with every moment.


Once it had been a key world of the Protectorate, now it was the site of a terrible holocaust. Thus perhaps it was fitting that a dark ritual about cheating death would take place here, where according to rumours there was still a portal into the netherworld. Maybe the eldritch energies swirling around the place would amplify and strengthen the ritual, make it easier to pull that tether between life and death...or maybe it would make the whole affair more unstable. Time would tell.


Her victim, the Sith Zabrak who had tried to kill her, was strapped and bound to a table. If all worked out well in a few moments he would no longer be a corpse, but something else...a being hovering between both realms, a zombie. She had no illusions about keeping the being around for long. In fact, it was quite possible that she would have to kill it shortly after summoning it in the first place. Then again, the undead do not have rights, or do they?


There was a reason the chains that bound it were rather tight. Watched over by two battle droids, Sumiko sat upon the floor in a meditative lotus position, cross-legged. With a dagger in her hand she sliced across the open palm of her right hand, drawing blood...for it was life. Her eyes had turned obsidian, becoming wells of blackness as she opened herself to the void that was the Dark Side. Doing as her study of the Sith arts had instructed her, she began chanting, speaking the incantation that she had learned during her research. It was a language most foul and vile to the ear, for it was the Dark Tongue of the Sith. While she spoke she made gestures and movements with her bloodied hand, as she had learnt to do.


Sorzus had warned her that there would be pain and that the Dark Side would test, so she braced herself. As it turned out, she had not nearly braced herself enough as unspeakable agony filled her entire body.

 

[Darth Libertas]

Terrible, horrible pain. It was searing agony she felt as the dark energies flowed through her body. She had been told to expect this and had planned for it...but it was still insufficient. She shook strongly as if suffering from several heart attacks at the same time. Her body felt like the eldritch energies were tearing her apart. Her breathing quickened and her heartbeat was racing to a point where it felt as if her heart was beating against her chest.


Breath in, breath out...focus. The whispers of the forgotten dead had by now turned into a crescendo beating against her mind as her sanity threatened to slip. Before her eyes there was a flash, then a fathomless void, the voices calling to her like sirens. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult, yet she pushed on, for if were to fail the consequences could be horrific for her. The energies she had unleashed were terrible, yet at the same time the sensation of being immersed in darkness could only be described as intoxicating, as if she were undergoing a rush. Yet it took her everything to maintain her focus.


Deep breaths...there was no going back now and so she kept on chanting, her voice alien and repulsive. Her being had become a conduit for the eldritch energies as she projected her will into the corpse, breathing life into it as she refashioned and resculpted its mind. "By the power of Chaos I command you. Arise and be mine. By my blade you fell in life, now you shall be mine in undeath. I give you life, my power flows through your body. You shall know hunger, wrath and obedience. Powers of Chaos, I command you, breathe life into this corpse and bind it to me," she spoke in the Dark Tongue of the Sith amidst the howl of the wind outside.


A wind that carried with it the cries of the forgotten who seemed to be lashing out in anger. Both her hands moved in the practiced recitation of the ancient Sith as she poured her will into the body. As she sought to exact her will and restore the corpse, she suddenly felt an ice-cold, numbing chill touch that made her shiver. The cold spread across her body as if Death himself was laying his hand upon her.


For a moment doubt entered her mind. Doubt was the little mind-killer, the slow death, but the pain was awful. Part of her could not help wonder whether she had been foolish, but she cast these thoughts aside. Such thoughts were only for the weak of mind. She would bring the Zabrak to a state of unlife and command her. The power of the Dark Side would heed her command and make sure her will be done. And so she stared into the abyss and the abyss stared back into her, she blotted the voices of the ghosts out. The pain surging through her body was not an enemy, but something to be harnessed and so she embraced it, even as deep cracks seemed to appear in her skin. As she exerted herself, she sought to bring about the inversion of Force Drain as, rather than sapping another's life force, she harnessed her one and allowed a portion of her strength to leave her and flow through the body that was strapped to the table before her. She felt a leeching, draining sensation as her strength weakened, but she persisted, trying to find the right balance.


Her eyes were wells of blackness, the tendrils of the Dark Side swept forth and engulfed the Zabrak corpse. Concentration and strain were etched over her features as she cast the spell, struggling to maintain her balance as she focused her power into the corpse before her. Overcome by strain she dropped down to her knees and then fell to the ground, shaking badly as she tried to calm down. Slowly, very slowly, the dead Zabrak began to first shake and then stir, with the hiss and slither of dead-dry skin. When she tried to get back to her feet she found herself staring into the yellow, sulfuric eyes of a zombie...

 

[Darth Libertas]

It was done. She had succeeded. Once dead, the Zabrak Sith was now among the living once more. Well, among the undead if you want to be pedantic about this. Alas, undead rights are sadly underdeveloped and barely anyone gives thought to whether zombies might be people as well. Needless to say Sumiko was probably not the type to experience such ethical dilemmas since she was sort of evil. Well, did performing occult rituals on a corpse count as evil? Especially since the corpse in question had once been a Sith who tried to kill her without provocation? Undoubtedly Sumiko did not bother ask herself that either.


With a deep groan she got to her feet, feeling very shaky on her legs, but despite this her lips curved into a tired smile. The newly risen zombie hissed and screeched like an animal, struggling against the chains that restrained it. Its fingernails were claws, its teeth sharp and its eyes dripping with malice. Skin had become pallid and mottled, fitting for a corpse.


"It lives. I did this...it's beautiful," Sumiko muttered to herself, looking and sounding enthusiastic as she approached the table the zombie was strapped to. Then abruptly she started laughing. Stretching out with her powers she tried to impose her will upon the creature, but felt that she was gravely weakened and tired.


"Caution, this creature is feral. Approaching it is ill-advised," one of her battle droids spoke in its usual dull, mechanical monotone. Sumiko felt like rolling her eyes. In a more lucid moment she would have heeded the warning but she was far too gleeful to pay attention.


"Mistress," the zombie spoke in a raspy voice, as if it was the first word it had ever spoken and in a way it was for this was a new life it was living. Or rather an unlife, as the case may be. "We...death." Then suddenly the unthinkable happened as in an act of willpower and strength the Zabrak broke her chains and, with an animalistic roar, grabbed Sumiko by the throat.


The Atrisian gasped for breath as she felt her flow of oxygen being cut off and pain surge through her body. She struggled in the iron grip of the zombie, which was as strong as a droid's pincers, but it was futile for after the ritual she was exhausted. Time seemed to stop as the teeth of the beast came closer and closer, then abruptly the zombie was peppered by a salvoe of blaster bolts fired from her minions, then its arm was sliced in half by a droid's lightsabre. Freed from its grip Sumiko dropped down and fell to the ground, nursing her badly abused neck.

 

[Darth Libertas]

Gasping for breath, Sumiko got to her feet, still feeling a little shaky. Her hand rubbed across her sore throat and she looked down upon what was left of the Zabrak zombie, as if contemplating just how close she had come to ending up like her. "Well, that did not go entirely well," she said with a tone of sarcasm.


"You were reckless and almost transformed. Approaching the creature was ill-advised," one of her robotic guardians spoke in the usual dull, mechanical monotone common for droids. Sumiko turned her head slightly as she heard the all-too-obvious criticism and reproach.


"Indeed," she said simply. "I shall know better next time. Pity the creature had to be destroyed before I could probe her mind and see whether any residual intelligence was left inside it. Then again, I still have a couple dead bodies left." Outside the crack of lightning could be heard, along with the roar of thunder. This planet was cursed and the dark side nexus gave even her pause. It was best not to linger here longer than need be.


"We're done here. Let's go," she ordered curtly and started to walk away, though she stopped to give the broken and charred remains of the zombie one last glance. The Zabrak had boarded her ship with the intent of killing her and stealing her prized artefact, now she had become her first experiment...on her path to greatness? Power shifted so easily in the universe. She might very well end up the same away, strapped and bound to a table, a mere lab rat to be used by someone more powerful than she was. Nothing was forever, there was no dark apex. Sic transit gloria. Casting these melancholic thoughts aside she left the warehouse with her two droids. Eventually she left the broken, scarred world of Corellia entirely behind her. Soon she would be on her ship again. Maybe [member="Mirien Valdier"] would send her an equally cryptic message.

 

[Darth Libertas]

Aleena Linosa was not her apprentice or student. It might be interesting and perhaps a bit surprising, but for someone obsessed with the collection and preservation of arcane knowledge, no matter what the source, Sumiko cared preciously little for passing on what she had learned. She had preciously little desire for an "heir" to carry on her work or something similarly trite.


Sith trained apprentices as minions to further their aims, but also to keep themselves on their toes, for the student was driven to surpass the master and one day claim the mantle of masterhood for herself. It was natural selection at work. The student must be powerful in order to serve the master well...but not too powerful. There must always be something the master held in reserve, something she could hold over the student, to both keep her in line and tempt her.


Ironic that so often the Sith had been undone not by the lightsabre of the Jedi, but by betrayal from within. Even Palpatine had met his end that way when his apprentice Vader turned on him. Speaking of the so-called 'chosen one', far as Sumiko was concerned all this talk about redemption was silly. After he had waded through oceans of blood for so long, it was fanciful to assume that casting down the Tyrant washed away his sins.


No, Aleena was not her apprentice. But she had her uses, hence why Sumiko kept her around. If the girl ever turned on her, she would kill her without giving it a second thought and there would be no regrets about it. The girl had long ditched her Jedi robes for spacer clothes. Pants, vest, tank top, a blaster holstered on her thigh. "You're back. How did your zombie ritual go?" Evidently the Twi'lek was still not comfortable with the idea of Sith magicks and rituals...but clearly not opposed enough to challenge her mistress or flee.


Then again, the Light was waning. There was a new constellation among the stars, one of the Dark Side. Even if the One Sith Empire were to come apart, the schism amongst the Jedi could not be undone. What innocence and devotion to the Light the young Padawan possessed had been burnt out of her when Naamah got her paws on her. The torture at the insane Clawdite's hands had been horrific, and it was Sumiko who'd saved her from it.


"Satisfactory, all things considered," Sumiko said with a shrug, then took off her dust-covered coat. "Unfortunately, my creation turned on me shortly after being returned from the living. Pity, but a useful lesson. I still have much to learn." Her tone was conversational, for she seldom raised her voice. Most of the times someone who shouted a lot just looked ridiculous. Her calmness and tranquility made those moments when she lost her temper more effective.


"Well, congrats on your first Frankenstein's Monster experiment. Sure the creepy holocron will be happy. Or maybe not if wanted to get a kick out of the zombie eating you. You wondered whether she didn't tell you the complete incantation? It is a Sith Lord after all."


Good point. It would be very in-character. "I would not be surprised if she didn't. Hence why I'll cross-reference her words with my other sources. Much to study, much to read, but worth it." Sitting down on a bench she took a proffered glass of water and took a deep sip. "Is there something on your mind, dear. Do these rites bother you?"


There was a moment of pause, then Aleena shook her head. "Couple months ago they would have...now, maybe there's a void inside me, but I don't feel like caring much. You did save me from that horrible monster's dungeon."


For a moment there was a flicker of emotion on her face and a shudder, then her eyes reflected anger. "No Jedi came for me. All the hell was good for one thing: Showing me the Code is a hogwash. Doesn't mean dark magicks don't creep me out."


Sumiko cocked her head to the side as if in consideration. "Good, you're thinking for yourself. Not a quality in high demand in the halls of the Jedi. Sorzus is pompous, arrogant, but knowledgeable. She shall feed me scraps of information to wet my appetite and increase my hunger, but keep the best for herself. I play on her vanity, but I can easily imagine her trying to lure me into a trap."


"And what are you gonna do against that? Would suck if you weren't around anymore. You're not leaving me much to inherit!"


"Why, I shall do what every Dark Master does. Drain her knowledge and dispose of her when I can," Sumiko said bluntly. "Have you completed the task I set you?" The voice was serious and no-nonsense.


Aleena looked shifty for a bit, then nodded. "Yeah, put out some feelers among spacers, refugee groups and so on. Turns out rumours are true. About the Bando Gora popping up on Contruum. That crappy little planet never gets a break, does it? Seems like a full-blown cult. Human sacrifices, dark rituals, the whole nine yards. That sick queen Naamah would probably have the time of her life there."


Sumiko raised an eyebrow. The undercurrent of anger was there, bubbling beneath the surface. A woman chooses, a slave obeys. "That would be nice, wouldn't it? If she were to return from Chaos and emerge on Contruum you could get your revenge and chop her head off. Or perhaps make her suffer in agony before you kill her."


There was a flash inside Aleena's cybernetic eye as it glowed a venomous crimson. Her organic eye had been lost to Naamah's razor. Right before the Clawdite had chopped off part of her lekku and ate it in front of her. "Yes, I could. The queen would deserve it. Every moment of suffering I inflicted on her." Oh, yes, there was anger and rage there. Natural human emotions the slave morality of the Jedi Code tried to suppress. Time would tell whether she would be ruled by it and become a beast, a slave to emotion.

 

[Darth Libertas]

"I'd make her suffer, you know. She'd die slowly. I'd repay every blow, every cut. That monster tortured my friend and then ate him right before my eyes. She butchered him and got off on it." So much pent-up anger and rage inside her. It was like she was about to combust.


In stark contrast, Sumiko seemed tranquility personified. Rather than do anything or step in she let Aleena say her piece. Abruptly Aleena suddenly lashed out with her powers and a glass on the table broke and shattered. Dozens of tiny shards of glass fell onto the floor. To her credit perhaps the Twi'lek looked like she was shocked by her outburst, though Sumiko remained as calm as ever.


"I...I'm sorry...I didn't..mean," the girl stammered, suddenly looking contrite and shocked. Or maybe after all the horrors she had endured in Naamah's dungeon she was afraid that the Atrisian might get angry and hurt her, for she was unable to fully shake off the idea of a cruel, unforgiving mistress. Then again, while Sumiko might be many things, compassionate and kind was not one of them.


"To blindly lash out and destroy the glass?" Sumiko finished for her, tone flat. Sooner or later the maimed Twi'lek would have had to confront her anger and her past. Best to get it out of the way now so that she could be useful. "Well, you did. Control yourself, girl, and do clean up." It sounded a bit like a teacher scolding a child for a misdemeanour, except few teachers would sound this frigid. Her tone was as cold as a snowstorm on Hoth.


"'Control yourself'? I'm not a child! Or your minion. You think you can lord it over me, but what do you even know of what I went through? You know what it's like to be treated like a...a plaything? She left me to starve and thirst for days, then...she forced me to eat human flesh...that of my friend and whoever else she grabbed in the streets at night. It still haunts me when I sleep, the nights when she...had her way with me. The broken glass, the shallow cuts so I would remain conscious. Sometimes she would...turn into him and...," the girl was close to tears, unable to speak any further.


"And force herself on you?" It was phrased as a question, but clearly a statement of fact as Sumiko finished for her. "Naamah was a sick monster. You were a victim, a slave, and that is horrible. I was a victim once as well. It's up to you whether you let it define you. Right now you're just a slave to your past." A woman chooses, a slave obeys. It had yet to be decided whether Aleena would become the former or remain the latter. As might have become apparent, Sumiko was a bit of a queen, truth be told.


"How dare you judge me?!" The pent-up rage that had built up inside Aleena found an outlet in an outburst of the Force as she called upon the Dark Side. It was a cry of anguish, hatred and anger amplified by her power as she harnessed the darkness. So far Aleena had received little training, for she had been a Padawan when she was thrown into the Battle of Kashyyyk and then believed missing in action.


Never mind the fact that Naamah's torture had left deep scars, but she had plenty of anger to draw upon. However, Sumiko was prepared. Truth be told, she had intended this. A table was sent flying and crashed into the bulkhead, glass was smashed. The droids had been observing the scene but were smart enough to stay out of the way and not interfere. As the shockwave swept towards her she answered it with one of her own. Rather than merely dissipating the Force blast it overrode it and sent it shooting back to its source, Aleena. It would hit her in the chest like an invisible hammer and send her crashing into a chair, which would fall over from the impact.

 

[Darth Libertas]

"You fething queen," Aleena snarled, anger and rage coming off her in waves after she crashed into the chair. Seeing Sumiko approach her the enraged Twi'lek quickly gripped a blaster pistol and a sharp vibroknife.


However, before she could do much the hand of hers that was holding the pistol was abruptly seized in a telekinetic vice-grip. Pain surged through her as the hand was abruptly pulled upward and, as she fired on reflex, the blaster bolt leaping out of the gun hit the ceiling. Then Sumiko pulled her hand backward at an unnatural length and speed that made her cry out and drop the gun.


But Aleena would now kowtow so easily and so she threw herself at the Atrisian, angrily slashing at her with her vibro-knife. The girl was a good deal weaker than her in the Force, but she had aggression and rage animating her. Blood was drawn when her knife slashed across Sumiko's cheek and sliced into her flesh. The expression on Aleena's face showed that she had been surprised by getting so far.


For a moment she seemed to freeze and then take a step back, breathing in. For her part Sumiko's hand ran down her face, blood dripping onto her fingers. Then Aleena violently launched herself at the Atrisian, hands balled into fists as she to beat Sumiko as hard as she could. Her fists were like bludgeons as they landed upon Sumiko's face, beating her as hard as she could, and her nails were claws. For a moment it even seemed like she could push the Atrisian back but then Sumiko managed to seize her by the lekku and pulled hard, causing a cry of pain, before she managed to spin around and hold Aleena in a chokehold as she wrapped her arms around her throat. A headbutt from Aleena took her by surprise and made her tumble, with the Twi'lek quickly trying to bolt for her blaster.


However, her desire for self-destructive rage would be cut short when suddenly she was seized by terrible pain when a mental shard was driven through her mind. Not enough to take her sanity, not by a long shot, certainly not enough to utterly break her and leave her a vegetable, but enough to make her cry out in pain as she felt like her mind was being split. For the next few moments she would be in terrible pain as the shard sliced across her mind, soon joined by many more as Sumiko exerted her powers.


Using the distraction gained this way, Sumiko pulled upon the tangled web of the Force, then abruptly gripped Aleena and pinned her against the wall. The Twi'lek struggled and tried to summon the Force to break the invisible chains keeping her restrained, but it was to no avail.


"Much to learn you still have, girl," Sumiko said flatly. "Never attack someone when your mind is so confused. Is it me you want to kill, Naamah or are you just angry at yourself and your own weakness?" she asked rhetorically as she stepped forward.


"Shut up! Let me go...now!" Aleena yelled at her. Her scream was like the wail of a banshee and Sumiko found herself forced back as she felt like her eardrums were about to burst and as if someone was clubbing her. Pain wracked her body at the sonic onslaught, but she persisted.


"You know nothing about me. You're just using...," any further words were cut off when Sumiko resorted to the time-and-tested trick of shutting Aleena's mouth with the Force. No words would leave the girl's lips unless she wished it. The mind of the girl was an ocean of chaos, anger, confusion, self-loathing and fear. The best way to deal with an angry bull was to let it rage for a while and then gradually let the anger die off, and this was what Sumiko did as she drew upon her power. Bit by bit, step by step, she would project tiredness and sluggishness into Aleena. The girl would struggle, thrash and rage against the mind pincers, but with every attempt made she would find herself feeling less virile and more tired. The rage would still be there, but it would be an impotent one.


"Let us get a few things straight. Yes, I am using you. As you are using me. I have no affection for you, I am not your mentor. Nor am I here to hold your hand and play psychologist. I saved you from the dungeon and certain death when everyone else had forgotten you, when you were malnourished, dehydrated and broken. I nursed you back to health. Now, before you start again, I am not asking for gratitude. But if you want to stick around, you will function. Of course, if you want to run back to the Jedi and be their charity case, do feel free. I doubt that in your heart you want to return. My question is: Do you want to be a woman or a slave?" Having spoken these words she released her grip upon Aleena's lips, allowing her to speak freely once again. If the the gentle reader had the impression that Sumiko was a massive queen, then this writer fully concurs.

 

[Darth Libertas]

For a moment an awkward silence descended upon them. "I...don't want to be anyone's slave. I dutifully followed the Code even after my Master abandoned the Jedi and joined the Sith, I landed in that monster's dungeon. I won't be your slave either," Aleena hissed. There was still anger inside her, but the raw, primal hatred had been washed away. Or maybe she simpy did not have the energy to lash out anymore. "I want freedom and the strength to protect it. From Jedi, Sith and anyone else."


Sumiko wiped some blood away from her chin, her lips curved into a thin smile. "Good. That is a clear answer. What separates a woman from a slave? Money, power...no. A woman chooses, a slave obeys. Be it the pull of the leash, the command of a Dark Lord or the constraints of a Code...or blind emotion. Control it, and you'll be free. Once I was a slave, then I broke my chains," she said, her tone now almost conversational.


Aleena sucked in breath to fill her lungs with oxygen, then laughed hoarsely. "Let me guess, my freedom stops the moment I go against you and do something you don't like?" the Twi'lek asked with a strong sarcastic edge to her voice. "I will be no slave. You're not my master."


Perhaps to her surprise, the Atrisian chuckled slightly. "Oh, if you betray me I'll kill you without a second thought. You knew that the moment you decided to stay with me instead of going back to the Jedi. By the same token, I won't put a leash on you if you're loyal. Stick with me, assist me...or leave. Know this, I will not tolerate another outburst." There was no doubt in her words that if Aleena lashed out against she would kill her.


"Will you leave me dead then or use me as another guinea pig for your next zombie experiment? If it's the latter I'll do everything in my power to eat you." Ah, they were so cute and sweet together.


The bravado and attempt at a threat did not seem to faze Sumiko in the slightest. "You should watch the news more. Nobody stays dead these days. If you betray me, your life will be forfeit and if you fail to kill me, mine to do with as I see fit. What is your answer?"


Silence for a moment, then Aleena got up with a deep groan and nodded. "I'm staying. I'll work with you and help you...as long as it suits my interests. If you're straight me, I won't turn on you. There better be payment though. I'm not doing this for free. And if you don't play me straight, I will turn on you, even if it costs me my life."


"Good. Then pick up the broken glass."

 

[Darth Libertas]

Trust. Such a fragile thing. Did Sumiko trust Aleena? No, truth be told, she did not. It was strange how the Inquisition had both actively cultivated distrust and a strong, somewhat perverse feeling of community, loyalty and even...family. If the Inquisition had been a twisted little family, then [member="Mirien Valdier"] had been the dark matriarch. If one were to follow this analogy, then Sumiko had been the aunt or elder sister to the Inquisitors beneath her.


But now the Inquisition was no more, and most of her brethren were dead. Aesham had gone off the rails and turned into a degenerate savage, Somarae had vanished, Bellalika had turned traitor, Nick Kahoshi and Olra'en did not count. Sumiko and Mirien were left. Perhaps they would work together again. Or kill each other. Well, if she were honest with herself Sumiko did not think the odds would be in her favour if she had to fight the former Grand Inquisitor. Not yet anyway. It was not an eventuality she considered desirable to explore. For more than just practical reasons and self-preservation. Perhaps she was still more attached to the dark woman than she would have liked to admit.


Aleena was being a good girl and had cleared away the glass shards. "I have matters to attend to on Fondor and will seek some rest. There is a contact I will meet in two days. Our friend the Colonel," the Atrisian said evenly.


The Twi'lek raised an eyebrow at that. "So you're letting me in on your plans now. That's so sweet of you. You're not worried the Omegans will bust you in while you're lounging around on their capital? I mean, I'll just say I'm innocent and the Dark Side made me do it," she joked lamely.


In response Sumiko just shrugged, waving the comment aside as if it were a buzzing insect. "That would require them to do something proactive instead of sitting around pondering the meaning of their little finger. There was a time when they were a superpower and I would've considered working for them. That's passed. Almost a pity."


Noise was heard when the glass shards were tossed into the trash can. "Fair enough. Heard there were Herglic riots over there or something crazy. Last I checked Herlics are peaceful. Guess it's Sith mucking around again. But I guess if someone tried to foment a riot among workers in Sith space that would be instantly discovered by the Dark Lord."


Sumiko took a sip from her drink. It probably appeared a bit bizarre and somewhat surreal that they had gone from beating the crap out of each other to moderately polite conversation. "Undoubtedly, but then the ineptitude of the forces of self-righteousness make it all too easy for a new Sith constellation to arise," she said with a shrug.


"You trust the Colonel?"


Such a question. But then Aleena was still young and evidently had much to learn. "No, I don't trust anyone. Especially not a traitor. I just trust him to have brains. If he crosses me, he dies."

 

[Darth Libertas]

Treachery is the inevitable outcome of all affairs, Sumiko thought to herself. It was something she had learned to accept as a credo. Companionship was fleeting. Love was a fancy term. All too often something that led you to ruin because of your own naivete. This was why she looked to no one's guidance but her own. Being freed from the chains of the Inquisition and the Atrisian Empire had been disconcerting, even frightening for some time as she suddenly found herself without orders, without a clearly defined purpose adrift in a strange Galaxy. But by now she had realised how liberating it was. She was not completely free of her chains. Not yet, not by a long shot. But she was free of the delusions and lies she had been fed.


Having finished her talk with Aleena, who now seemed less inclined to randomly fly off the handle and attack her, she hit the shower to freshen herself up, which was something her body clearly needed. That done and covered by a small towel she withdrew to her quarters and put on a simple robe. Nothing too fancy, for she had no need for that. Material possessions meant very little to her in the grand scheme of things.


Hence why the room was best described as spartan, though admittedly this was just a simple freighter. The ancient Sith holocron was safely stashed away in the oubliette backpack. For a moment she considered activating it once more, but then she just shook her head and turned her gaze away from it. She was not really up for it at this juncture, truth be told.


Instead she opened a compartment in her small bedside table. She removed the resin-coated wrapping and then ran her long fingers over the ancient scroll that was covered in arcane runes of the old Sith. Even after all the millennia that had passed, dark power still radiated from it. These were the scrolls of Halicanyos, today more commonly known as Darth Shadow. Apprentice to Darth Karaxas, a powerful alchemist and sorceress, he had toppled his master as was the way of the Sith, but then brought down low himself when he launched an ill-advised coup.


Unfortunately for him, Vitiate the Sith Emperor had been very real and punished him for his insolence. The information in the scroll was badly dated by now, but it still contained secrets worth knowing and could be considered another step into a larger world. Knowledge, whatever its source, was precious, after all, and so much from the ancient times had been forgotten or misused.


A casual telekinetic tug activated the small lamp on her bedside table, providing further illumination as she studied the scrolls. The words were written in the ancient Sith tongue and much had faded over time, but there was enough for her to make sense of things. In order to read better, she slipped on a pair of glasses. Yes, glasses, you heard that right, dear reader. What was written within the scrolls were the basics of alchemy, a beginner's course, you might say. The man who would become the Shadow spoke of how you would harness the power of blood to bind an item and the fundamentals of how to infuse it with the power of the Force.


In a way the Force worked sympathetically. Not in the way which was in common usage, but in the blood ties you could create with an item. Blood was life, blood contained power. Through a blood bond you could bind an item to yourself. Not only did it prevent anyone other than you from utilising a Force-imbued item of your creation, it also solidified one's ability to use it. This principle extended from magical talismans and rings to the infamous Sith blades. Blood and the force of your own will were exerted to bind the item to you, through the power of the Force you infused it with a portion of your own power. Blood was not only binding, but symbolic of your life force, your vitae. The savage Bando Gora had harnessed it for their rites, though their ways had been mired in superstition and pointless savagery as they sacrificed thousands of slaves to appease their so called Chaos Gods - there were no gods, only powerful spirits and the duality of the Force, the one deity of the universe that bound all life together.


Contrary to popular belief, the use of blood in the alchemical process was not inherently Dark Side in origin, but could be used by the acolytes of Light as well. Far as Sumiko knew, a certain Master Alince was pioneering a craft called Alkahest, the Light Side counterpart to Sith alchemy. After all, the Force was a duality. Light and Dark existed in a state of perpetual struggle. Action and reaction, thesis and antithesis. One might also call it the law of thermodynamics. One power arose, then sooner or later this generated an opposite reaction to contest it. The consequence was the endless cycle of religious wars between Dark and Light that were waged across the stars, leaving behind destruction...but also fountains of knowledge for those with the dedication to look for them.


But now...the power of the Light was fading as the darkness cast its shadow across the worlds. It had been in decline for a very long time. Like with every hegemony, the Sith's would be temporary, but that did not matter. Sumiko kept on studying, tracing across the lines with her fingers, making notes in a small notebook here and there, like a diligent university student. Naturally her notes were also written in Sith; her handwriting was very neat, clear and unhurried. Here and there she would underline a sentence in the scrolls or highlight a specific word. Again, so much like a good student.

 

[Darth Libertas]

"The power of the self is a wonderful thing to behold, but misplaced confidence is a sin." So very true. It was exaltation of the self that Sumiko pursued. In tha regard there were similarities to the Sith, for she did not allow morality to shackle her in the pursuit of her aims. But she had no appetite for conquest and displays of dominance. Moreover, she refused to bend a knee to any Dark Lord.


She reflected, with a chuckle, that Darth Bane had condemned Krayt as a heretic. Then she kept on reading, making notes here and there. The scrolls now went into detail when it came to describing the process of forging Force imbued items. Sumiko already knew the basic details of forging due to her training on Atrisia, but she kept on reading as Halicanyos described how to create a basic, Force-imbued dagger. So she read through the scrolls as the ancient Sith described the basic process of forging, which represented his first attempt to forge a weapon endowed with the mystical properties of the Force, which enabled it to absorb, store and fire blasts of lightning if attacked in such a way.


There were also some interesting references about how to create a blade that could poison an enemy, something which particularly intrigued Sumiko. Th way of the ancient Sith had been to imbue a blade with Kinrath and other venom. A single scratch couldn infect and foul wounds made, with the greater the contact the stronger the effects. Even touching the sword’s blade could poison an enemy as it was a power of the Dark Side. The symptoms of this poison was to slow healing, promote infection, and also to inflict agonising pain on the victim. By itself the venom was not usually fatal unless the wound itself would be, but it could turn a minor wound serious, and a serious one critical.


Sumiko recalled that the Bando Gora had been awfully fond of using such blades, even making use of poisoned chainswords. It made her recall how nasty Devaronian blood poison was...definitely something to look into. Likewise the wild life of Felucia was particularly...venomous. It would be something to look into soon. Looking over at her chronometre she saw how many hours had passed and found that it was already deep into the night.


And so she put the scroll and her notebook aside, switched off the light and slipped into bed. Her sleep would only be light, as it was always soon, but nonetheless it did not take long for her to fall into what seemed like a peaceful slumber. No doubt entered her mind, no shred of regret or remorse for those she had killed - or those she would kill. Perhaps once upon a time she had felt such things, but not anymore. At most there might have been a longing for those who had once been her family, as twisted as it might have been, but had been taken from her. But it was something she had learned to accept and adjust to as she revelled in her new-found freedom.

 

[Darth Libertas]

(Un)fortunately for young Sumiko, her slumber in the realm of dreams would not be undisturbed for long. Undoubtedly this was partially because this writer has a love for crazy dream consequences. It would undoubtedly count as self-training as well, especially if she got into a fight. Besides, she still had some unresolved issues relating to her past. Or at least her writer thinks she does. Doubtless Sumiko would protest, given her übermensch complex!


Anyhow, on with the plot and all that. With a start Sumiko's brown eyes would suddenly flutter open as if something had roused her from her slumber. Or rather her meditation, for she would find kneeling on the hard stone ground in an empty plaza surrounded by stone walls. The light had been dimmed and the curtains drawn, though there was a hint of moonlight slipping through them. The source main source of illumination inside the room was provided by candles that stood on a table and by a small fireplace.


The small fires cast Sumiko's features in an eerie light, giving her an otherworldly, almost ethereal appearance. Sumiko blinked, evidently confused about where she was and how she had got here. Her mind had been focused only on her breathing while she meditated. Wait, last thing she remembered was going to sleep aboard her freighter. This was most assuredly not her bedroom.


Cold eyes quickly scanned the room while her hands ran over her body, finding no binds, no cuffs...though there was a certain sensation from within her spine. A very familiar itch. No... She was wearing orange and block leather robes. Before her crossed legs lay a glasteel mask with tiny slits inside it. When her hand reached down to her belt she found herself gripping a small, cylindrical object and when she touched it, she knew what it was. An unignited lightsabre. Her lightsabre. The one she had constructed in her early years as an Inquisitor, under the watchful eye of the master forgers.


She took a deep breath as she arose. It was all just a dream. Somehow her subconsciousness had transported her back to the time when she had been an Inquisitor, for she recognised this plaza. It was an area in the Citadel she had often sought out for meditation. However, as her eyes got used to her surroundings she noticed certain...differences. Over the fireplace hung a huge oil painting of Madeline Kahoshi.


Madeline Kahoshi...the queen who had destroyed the Inquisition, murdered her brethren and subjected Sumiko to horrible torture. Anger rose up inside her like bile in her stomach as she struggled to compose herself. At the edge of the room stood a marble bust of...Siobhan Kerrigan. Sumiko had to blink again and pinch herself to assure herself that this was really what she was seeing. She had seen the former Sword of the Protectorate during the "victory party" after the Battle of Atrisia, but never really interacted with her. But she knew her face and of her deeds...there was no mistaking that it was her. But Kerrigan had never been an Inquisitor. Leaving aside the fact that she was unsubtle sledgehammer.


What sort of bizarre universe had her subconsciousness conjured up? Or have I been magically teleported into a parallel universe? An absurd thought, but probably less ridiculous than Akala somehow managing to teleport trillions of sentient beings in the netherworld and gourge herself upon the Force, she thought to herself with a strong sarcastic edge.


Alright, she had to focus and approach this logically. The logical answer was that this was a dream. Ergo she would be able to wake up from it. Perhaps this is the Force's way of trying to teach me a lesson. A test of some sort, she considered. She was normally not the sort to be blessed - or cursed - with visions or haunted by bad dreams, but the Dark Side always tested its acolytes. What lunacy is this? she wondered to herself.


She visibly tensed when suddenly she heard the sound of footsteps upon the hard stone outside of the plaza. The door creaked as it was opened and then suddenly a young, Atrisian woman dressed in the blue and purple robes of an Interrogator, stood before her. Her long black hair had been tied into a severe ponytail, her features were obscured by the glasteel mask with the tiny slits through which her hazel eyes could be seen. However, Sumiko did not need to look upon her face to know who it was, for she felt the woman through the Force and experienced a sensation of familiarity.


Interrogator Wai Lin. One of the acolytes she herself had trained. The girl had not been born on the homeworld, but come from one of the colonies settled by Atrisian before the Gulag Virus broke out. A daughter of spacers and merchants, she had been free-spirited and rebellious upon being 'recruited', for her people had not inherited the Atrisian distrust of Force-users.


However, over time she had been broken in. Now she stood here before Sumiko, having come to a halt, clicked her heels and delivered a precise salute with true military precision. "Interrogator Lin. Apologies for interrupting you, ma'am, but High Inquisitor Cyan demands your presence right away. There are tidings from the front," she spoke in a serious, proper tone as befitted a soldier.


Apparently things were getting even more bizarre. Against her better judgement Sumiko did not play along yet. Everything was simply such a shock. "Lin...front? Kerrigan is pat of our order...Madeline is Empress?"



Beneath her mask an expression of concern crossed the Interrogator's features. "I understand that you have been out for a while and that the injuries the Jedi mentalist inflicted upon you have left severe scars. We fear that some portions of your memory might never be recovered, but you've been cleared for duty. High Inquisitor Kerrigan has been with us since the Grand Inquisitor saved her life on Nar Shaddaa. Madeline took over after Akio was assassinated."



"Right...I remember. My head has been a bit blurry, but I am fit. You mean Grand Inquistor Valdier." There was a nod from Lin. At least that was a bit reassuring. It made part of her wonder whether the pair was as close as they supposedly were according to the tabloids. Even more shocking was the idea of Mirien and Madeline working together. "Take me to the High Inquisitor now. How is our progress on the front lines, Interrogator?" Sumiko said in her sharpest, most authoritative voice as she tried to regain control over the situation.


Wai gave Sumiko a look, then gestured to her to follow. "Imperial legions have broken through the enemy's defences and routed the Protectorate. Thyferra has fallen to us. Our sister Kerrigan has purged Kaeshana of enemies of the Empire." For a moment her eyes seemed to grow brightly with true fervour as she spoke, leading Sumiko down a long corridor in the Citadel. Everything looked so familiar...familiar halls, familiar faces, yet so different in a number of ways. The urge to simply call the ruse and run was strong, but Sumiko clamped down on it. It was a test of some sort, so she would play along.