One More Bottle!

[Darth Veles]

Needless to say, Tatooine wasn’t on the list of Avreet’s favourite planets. Quite the opposite, in fact. The ever-present dust and sand did no good to his moist skin, the sun’s heat only making the situation worse. His ship, Your Deathbed, remained several docks behind in this massive spaceport many fittingly called the “armpit of the galaxy”, Mos Eisley. At least the buildings offered some shielding from the specks of dust flying in the air, some shadow where the sun could not reach. The amphibious Sith Assassin looked very out of place as he moved through tight alleyways, his large eyes darting back and forth as if expecting an ambush any second – given the crime rate in this nasty settlement, one could not blame him for that. Despite his unusual appearance, the Sith known as Darth Veles had little intention of giving the suspicious individuals that shared the streets with him any more reason for an attack; his curved twin hilts remained concealed under a dark, heavy cloak that shrouded much of his body under the thick layer of black.

Normally, the amphibious assassin wouldn’t even consider going to such planet, but it was not his will that brought him to Tatooine rather than his sense of duty. The Sith Lord held little to no loyalty for the One Sith, therefore he cared little for some traitor who had no better idea than to leave the piece of Sith cake and move to another slice, more hospitable to his liking. Unfortunately for the traitor, several bombs he had left behind as his final goodbye to Sith were more than enough to get Veles’ attention. A weakling and a terrorist. The Mon Cal disliked innocents dying, he hated insane Sith as well, therefore it’s been decided the man would face death worthy of a traitor. Maybe the task was under the Sith Lord, but the amphibian did not want some Acolyte or Knight to come and actually persuade the man to re-join the One Sith, to be allowed to rise up the ladder of ranks again. No, the Sith Lord had come to permanently end the Dark Jedi – a former Knight of the One Sith. Intel indicated the traitor often visited a certain canteen called The Black Cat’s - possibly in search of Jedi agents who would grant him safety in exchange for information.

The Sith Lord’s very signature could not be spotted in the Force, his presence hidden away as if he did not even exist. The target did not know such power – even before the traitor strode out of the canteen, Veles could feel his distinct Dark Side signature, one built upon insanity and suffering he had caused alike. The face corrupted by the Dark Side only confirmed his identity, sickly yellow-ish eyes burning like ember. Taking a glance left and right, unable to spot his stalker as Veles disappeared in shadows, the Dark Jedi started to move away from the canteen, picking his favourite path through the narrow alleyways. Shadowing him, never losing sight, Veles waited for the right moment to strike.

Half an hour later, Veles found himself sitting in the very same canteen his target had visited. While the Mon Cal calmly sat on a stool by the bar and sipped from his glass full of clean water, the Dark Jedi’s body lied under a set of stairs, several blocks from the canteen, a dirty and forgotten place nobody walked through much. The unnatural way his neck’s been twisted suggested the man fell down the stairs and broke his neck. Accidents like that happened every day, plus nobody cared about accidents in a settlement full of murders. The corpse waited for the first looters to discover it, further robbing it of all identity and making the traitor just another nameless corpse to be forgotten before the sunset. A fitting end, some might say.

Simply enjoying the free time before returning back to the OS space to confirm the kill, Avreet kept his cybernetic eye on the canteen’s patrons. His sight cut through the smoke that filled it and he seemingly ignored the annoying music resonating within the walls. His senses remained wary, searching through the Force, his presence no longer hidden. Avreet intentionally acted as a beacon by displaying his neutral signature in the Force, hoping to draw in the man’s contact, whoever that was.

[member="Cora Passek"]

 

[Cora Passek]

Tatooine, a familiar hive of scum and villainy. To Cora, it long had been a home away from home. A place that was as familiar to her, as the back of her own hand. It had been the place where she first took her steps into the greater galaxy as well as learned just how cruel life could be to a young woman.

The Ancient Evil within, pressed at the back of her mind, like an itch that that just would not leave her be. Can't I just have five minutes alone with my own thoughts? And where would the fun be in that? She shook her head and sighed at the internal reply. At least he wasn't fighting for control nearly as much these days. Though, that spirit had a much better grip upon the powers she loathed to admit she had. Still she avoided training, avoided friends, avoided home, her real home to keep people from discovering who or what she had become. It felt safer that way. Safer than admitting she was the very type of creature she had sought to end for so long.

The Black Cat's canteen came into view. There was rumor of a Sith deserted who had put on quite the show. If rumor was correct he'd be here. Though, her blood did boil at the idea. Sith. Cora hissed internally. Oh, come now darling, I'm not that bad? I beg to differ. They'd destroyed her family, taken everything from her in the end. For years she had been on a path of revenge, and destruction. A path that ultimately would have led to her becoming nothing but a monster. Oddly enough, it took sharing her body with a Sith Lord, to figure that much out.

Slowly, slowly she was turning things around. She still had a long way to go and many things that she'd have to accept before then. With a heavy sigh, Cora entered the canteen, and wandered slowly to the counter, her eyes quickly scanning the room for potential threats. Though, the reality here, was everyone was to some degree or another. And some more than others. Lifting a finger she flagged down the barkeep. "Scotch, neat." She said before taking a seat. If only she had an idea who she had just sat down next to.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Lifting the glass and raising it to his lips to take a sip, Avreet acted very casually despite being in a place where every other sentient was a criminal. The Force revealed no Jedi as of yet, albeit that could have been due to the Jedi hiding their signature, similarly to what Veles had done when stalking his target. Suspicious, the Mon Cal watched those who seated themselves in dark corners of this establishment, also searching for hoods – Jedi were notorious for wearing hoods indoors, especially counterparts of Sith Assassins; Jedi Shadows. Darth Veles could easily imagine one of those being sent here to extract the rogue Sith and make him an offer in exchange for valuable information. No appearance of any individual screamed their Jedi allegiance at him, or they were a good actor – almost everyone in this canteen looked drunk, sleepy, bored, neglected. Those few sober enough to talk and think clearly usually chatted with an associate of theirs, discussing deals resolving about smuggling cargo and people alike The cybernetic orb of the Mon Cal also revealed nothing useful, not tricks or traps waiting for him.

Then, suddenly, someone finally sparked the Sith Lord’s interest. Surprisingly enough, the newcomer definitely did not look or feel as a Jedi – and yet the Force told Avreet to pay close attention to her and his large eye automatically darted the woman’s way when she entered, the cascade of blonde hair making her stand out almost as much as the amphibious Mon Calamari. To avoid looking suspicious and not to stare, all the Sith Lord took was a short glance into her face, believing to have noticed a detached look in her eyes. In the next moment, both of Avreet’s amber gemstones focused on the cool surface of water that filled his glass, yet sensing the lifeform approach his position and take a seat right next to him. There was something wrong with her signature – not only the murky presence definitely did not belong to a Jedi… Avreet couldn’t quite put his finger on it and then it was gone, just like a cold breeze of wind, which left him wondering if his mind simply played tricks on him.

The ordered scotch arrived, a clean glass as well. One sight of it and Avreet couldn’t help but wonder if one particular Jedi Master would enjoy the alcohol; the Mon Calamari couldn’t really say, only knowing Corvus liked her favourite Corellian whiskey. Whatever the case, the amphibious Sith still found no Jedi around and his attention eventually fully shifted to the woman. It was time to start a conversation with her, in his own way. For all he knew, there could have been no Jedi. Maybe this woman came to recruit the rogue Sith, perhaps to kill the man, or simply just to enjoy a bottle or two. Avreet could not see into her mind, yet the curious combination of the Force and this funny feeling in his gut told the Sith Lord she was more than your average drunk. He needed to find out.

“Excuse me, my lady,” the Mon Cal started politely, as always, large orange eyes watching the woman with unspoken serenity. Everything about the Sith Lord radiated comfortable calmness – just as much as his voice carried that unmistakable thick Imperial accent that became harder to find after the fall of the Sith Empire that came before the One Sith war machine. Yet here it was again, on Tatooine of all places.

“I apologize for interrupting you from enjoying your drink, but this place is hardly fit for such a beautiful young woman. Seeing as it is filled with drunken ruffians and no security, I find myself worried for your safety. Are you certain this is the right place for you?” The amphibious assassin spoke, tone sounding clearly concerned, before turning his large head to gaze at the man behind the bar who didn’t seem all too pleased with the Sith Lord’s words until the Mon Cal tossed a few credits his way.

“Bartender! The lady’s drink is on me.”

For him, nothing but courtesy that came naturally when dealing with those of opposite gender.

But on Tatooine, such traits have been buried under mountains of greed and selfishness, like some sort of treasure hidden under the sand and waiting to be found - except nobody was interested in worthless trinkets.

One did not have to look alien to stand out.

[member="Cora Passek"]

 

[Cora Passek]

Surprised rippled through the young blonde as she lifted an eyebrow as she looked over to the Mon Calamari. "A Gentleman in this hell hole? I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised. I was not quite aware that such a thing existed here." He's more than a gentleman, but I'll leave you to figure out that joy for yourself. The feth are you talking about? You'll see. The spirit replied with great pleasure ringing through his tone for he recognized a kindred spirit. But, he was in no way going to inform her of that. "Thank you for the drink."

For a moment, Cora glanced around the bar, looking over the usual criminals that frequented the bar. "You'd be surprised how much I fit in around here." With a sigh, she finally picked up her glass. Her gaze shifted, staring down into the amber liquid within, before taking a small sip. "Practically grew up here. From eighteen on I spent a lot of time in Mos Eisley. Business and such. Not that there ever was much choice in the matter back then. Couldn't go home, and couldn't get far enough away from the trouble my family started." At that she shrugged, "It is what it is, I suppose. Nothing I can do about it now."

Pausing the accent she knew too well. It was one she could hardly forget given the circumstances of her family's death. "Your accent, Imperial isn't it?" Hers had taken great effort to drop. And now that accent alone brought back a flood of memories that she in no part wanted to relive. Not now, not ever. I almost pity you, you'd have made a good sith, if not for the mistakes of your mother. The hell I would. And seriously, this whole third person in the conversation is on my last nerve. Fine, I'll leave you be for a while. Thank you. That spirit, leaving her be, was enough to at least soothe some of the sadness and anger she felt in that moment. Those memories were far from pleasant.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

The woman’s statement did not surprise him – he was pleased the woman appreciated his behaviour. While nothing but common courtesy, such acts have often been viewed as a weakness, especially among the Sith where most could not properly comprehend the Sith Lord’s strange ways. Avreet wasn’t soft though; the Mon Cal simply enjoyed being gentle, especially towards women. Despite that, he opted not to respond to the woman’s thanks by words, courtly nodding instead and letting her speak and being the greatest of listeners. The very first bits and pieces of information immediately painted her as a somewhat suspicious character – was it a hint towards her being one of the ruffians? A smuggler, pirate – perhaps a slaver of sorts? Her good looks definitely protested against such claims, especially when compared to other patrons. A gentlebeing such as Avreet always appreciated beauty of a woman, this particular human right next to the amphibious Mon Cal being no exception. And to the Sith silently took in the woman’s story, occasionally nodding or taking a sip of water – but his large eyes always remained locked with the woman.

Then came the question that finally shifted Avreet’s attention back to his glass. However innocent the question sounded, the Sith knew all too well about all prejudices and myths tied with his people. The woman had noticed his unmistakable accent and whether she hated or loved him for what he was – Avreet could hardly change that. As such, he did not even try to avoid the question or lie, it wouldn’t be the right thing to do and only delayed this conversation. A brief look of his swivelling eyes across the bar to see if anyone listened, and spotting nobody interested in their conversation, the Mon Cal focused fully at the blonde. It was his turn to share a bit about himself.

“I must commend you on your excellent hearing, my lady. It is an Imperial accent, correct,” he admitted with a nod, his expression and tone swiftly changing from firm to almost apologetic, “I hope this is not a problem. I am fully aware of how an Imperial looks like in minds of many citizens on planets such as Tatooine; a tyrant who has come to oppress those poor innocents who did nothing wrong, a corrupt official who steals fruit from vendors, a bully with hate for non-humans. If it’s not too much to ask, it’d be greatly appreciated if we freed ourselves from the stereotypical portrayal of an Imperial that is so often found in Republic… materials.”

In another words: propaganda.

The look in the Mon Cal's big eyes grew dreamy, one could almost see the sense of nostalgia that washed over him.

“Have you ever visited a planet with strong ties to the Sith Empire, my lady? The Empire that came before the One Sith and is no more? I hope you have witnessed the peace and hospitality it offered.”

A shrug, a polite smile that almost dared and encouraged her to go and see for herself in that very moment, and the Mon Cal fell silent again.

“If it helps, I’ll buy you a bottle as a display of my good will?”

This time came a wink and without even waiting for the woman’s answer, the Mon Calamari called the bartender with a wave of his webbed hand and ordered more alcohol - the very same she had asked for before.

[member="Cora Passek"]

 

[Cora Passek]

"I wouldn't call it excellent hearing, so much as it's an accent that I used to have. Took many years of work to bury that, so people would forget where I came from, who I was and who my parents were.." She grumbled, clearly getting irritated. Calm down Cora, he's bigger than you. Point. And I thought you were going away? Not entirely. Not when it comes to keeping you out of a situation that could get us both killed. Oh, so you do care. How cute. Self-preservation, darling. Simple as that. Of course. Should have known.

"And yes, I have. I grew up in the old Sith Empire. Lived there, in peace and happiness up until the point my family were declared traitors. For reasons that I have never been able to find out. I watched as they came in the middle of the night, slaughtered my six year old sister as well as every last living blood relative I had." She snorted, downing the entire glass of scotch. "So if that is the hospitality, of which you speak ... I know plenty about that. As I barely escaped with my life at eighteen! Barely an adult, still a child truly. Hell of a birthday present that was." She snarled, at that point her feathers more than a tiny bit ruffled and in her mind she was already going through the stock of weapons and ammo she had on supply and debated if she could actually take him here and now.

Down, Cora. Think before you act. you really think for a second he isn't just as trained if not more so than you? And he has the force, you haven't even taken a second to train that talent of yours girl. Only a fool would attack him here and now. You know, I really fething hate when you have a point. Perhaps even a really good point. Good, I knew you weren't suicidal. Well you are ... but at least not today. Ass. Always...

She glanced to the bottle that had been set upon the counter and back to him. "Tell me, what justifies the death of a six year old child? Or her elder sister who I can promise had no knowledge of her parents crimes?" Still angry, still debating her next move. But first, she opened the bottle. After all, it was really good Scotch, and then poured herself another glass. "We were children. Children. Is a child really responsible for the crimes of the parent?" Cora asked before she placed the cap back on the bottle, and took a hefty gulp from her glass. Her fingers curled back around the bottle, having half a mind to break it on his head. Not wise woman ... Not wise at all.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

A fellow Imperial?! Even an experienced Sith Lord such as Veles couldn’t have expected this much of a coincidence when entering this miserable canteen on a backwater planet. The Mon Cal wanted to smile and heartily greet the woman, cheer and celebrate this lucky encounter. Unfortunately, he knew all too well no luck or coincidences existed in this galaxy, the dark truth in the corner of his mind predicting the unpleasant things to come. The change in his new friend’s tone further underlined the warning in form of boiling anger he could practically smell and taste in the Force, originating within her body – cold alcohol and fiery temper never mixed well when combined. Ironically, the powerful emotion radiating from the woman’s very soul only gave the Sith more power, something to feast upon as the idyllic start changed into a living nightmare. Avreet’s smile froze on his lips before it even appeared, expression growing far more serious as another tragic story unveiled itself in front of him, his fellow Imperial’s anger failing to mask the sadness and pain piercing her heart.

The Sith Lord sincerely shared the woman’s emotions, albeit not in such a powerful manner. Avreet stayed quiet until his companion voiced her last question, leaving the Sith to wonder of what to say in order to defuse the situation. He found himself very intrigued by the story, slightly confused by some details that had yet to be revealed for him to wrap his head around it. On the other hand, Avreet knew very well he had unknowingly cut into a very painful and sensitive matter, something he regretted now. Disgust and pity started to grow within him, only to be subdued by his inner calmness that was necessary from one of them. The two made a perfect contrast; one boiling with anger, drinking one glass of alcohol and immediately pouring herself another, the other staying calm and slowly sipping water.

“I am sorry for what happened to you and your family, my lady,” the amphibious assassin finally addressed his companion, reaching out through the Force to touch the woman’s aura and calm it with serenity, “It is unimaginably tragic. To lose your entire family and all your dreams and plans for the future in one violent stroke of fate; you have my deepest sympathies. There is absolutely nothing that could justify murder of an innocent, especially a child.”

The Sith Lord sighed and lifted the glass to take another sip, only to realize he had lost all appetite and the water suddenly tasted terrible, leaving a strange metallic aftertaste on his tongue. Putting the glass down, he cast his amber gaze on the blonde. The music that filled the whole canteen became awkward, playing happy tunes that were completely inappropriate given the topic. Needless to say, the Sith did not believe the terrible deed had been committed by the authorities as the woman’s words strongly suggested. There had to be more to it. Perhaps a robbery that went wrong? Or maybe a crazed drug addict in a fit of rage, breaking into a house and killing everyone within?

“Regardless of your parents’ supposed treason, your parents should have stood a fair trial, to hear they have been murdered instead… I find it hard to understand, my lady,” he frowned and shook his head decisively, “No Imperial following our values would ever sink so low as to abandon basic moral principles and no Sith would ever kill an innocent child either, as our way speaks against such acts. I apologize for prying into such a tragic matter, my lady, but I have to know; who exactly committed the heinous crime? Is there anything I can do to help? People responsible for your tragedy have to be brought to justice, if they haven't faced it already.”

His voice remained strangely soothing still. One webbed hand pulled out a clean handkerchief, offering it to the blonde woman in case tears started flowing with frightening memories flooding back. Avreet hated to see women cry – very much the reason he always carried a handkerchief so he could wipe off their tears.

[member="Cora Passek"]

 

[Cora Passek]

"You're what?" Surely she hadn't just heard an apology from a Sith? Did that really just happen. Turning, giving him a sidelong glance, Cora truthfully didn't know what to think as he spoke. It just seemed far too odd to find a Sith of all people being sympathetic to her plight. "I find it odd, that you would agree that the murder of innocents isn't justified. Are you sure you're not wearing the wrong colors? Flying the wrong flag so to speak?" She asked. The apology had thrown her momentarily off her rage. And for a moment Vahri was quiet, but Cory could still feel the slimy creature shifting around in her mind.

"In any other world, any other Empire they might have gotten a fair trial. But not there. Not then." She said as she returned to her drink, quick to take a large gulp. At least for the moment she seemed distracted from the idea of beating Avreet over the head with the bottle as she finally released her grip.

"I don't understand. You would help me? Why?" That part of things really didn't make much sense to her. But there wasn't much about this day that was really making sense to her. "Truthfully, I don't know who did it. I wish I did. I was a little more concerned that day with getting out alive, than I was about seeing who did it. Had I stayed for a moment longer in that house, I'd have been dead too." She sighed heavily and actually accepted the offered handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes.

"The details have been hard to find after the fact. Records are almost non-existent and I don't exactly have the access to find out either. Not without causing a whole hell of a lot more trouble than I care to deal with." Said with a heavy sigh. She still had half a mind to beat him over the head but for now that seemed to be kept in check when she realized that she might be able to use him to get details about her family's death that had been previously inaccessible to her. As well as such details being far to risky to go after at the time.

She still believed he was wrong. That any Imperial would have done it. Any Sith. He was different and someone she couldn't quite wrap her mind around just yet. But he at the same time was useful. Useful enough that she wasn't ready to throw that aside, not when it could help her figure out the mystery surrounding her family's murder. "If you want to help me, truly help me .... I need details, things I can't get on my own without great risk to my person. It's not exactly been safe for me to walk in Sith space these days." At least not with the things I've done. She thought to herself. This is risky ..... Less risky if he is actually willing to help. I don't trust him. Neither do I. For now, he's useful. We'll get what we can from him, get the details we can about my parents and sister's death and we'll move on. We'll deal with him should he become a threat to us both. You sure about that? I may be skilled, but you are not. You'd have to submit to me completely and let me have control for that, I hope you know. It's not an option I like, but it will have to do. Good, then don't fight me when that time comes. I won't. Working with a Sith, or with Vahri wasn't what she wanted to do but it was the needed thing. She had to do this. One way or another she would get to the bottom of the death of her family.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

The young blonde’s confusion only produced a soft, muffled chuckle from the Mon Cal as a response, quickly silenced when water filled his mouth and drowned the laughter threatening to happen – as humorous as he had found his companion’s reaction to be, there was no reason to make fun out of the girl’s lack of knowledge concerning the Sith. He understood where she was coming from though – shaking his head, the Sith Lord took another sip of water while doing his best to keep his face straight and serious while having deep thoughts about what Sith meant to others, those untouched by the Messiah’s wisdom and greatness.

As the glass in his hand clinked with the bar again, his lips thinned, the amphibian knew very well what others imagined under the word “Sith”. Not him, neither Zarrah, the only two Sith in the galaxy; no, sentient beings imagined the Hands and Voices of the Dark Lord, the “illustrious” leaders responsible for sinking the very concept of being a Sith to the bottom of the ocean and portraying all Sith as senseless psychopaths. Avreet hated it – at least the government’s name was accurate. The One Sith.

One might wonder why Darth Veles remained within the One Sith’s embrace still; the reason he had tolerated the genocides with nothing but discontented thoughts. Power, wisdom, knowledge; it all came to the Mon Cal without requiring him to butcher what it meant to be Sith. When the Dark Jedi slaughtered billions of innocents for a terrible reason or no reason at all, they had occasionally unlocked another chapter of the Dark Side, discovering more of its unnatural secret arts.

While others have secured their rightful place in the Void for their monstrous deeds, Veles’ conscience remained clear and he could sleep at night most of the time, armed with more knowledge and hatred for the “large Dark Jedi cult”, growing in power without doing anything to help these monsters – aside from an occasional attack from the Republic and mission that kept his mind and body alike in perfect shape. The Messiah benefited as well through her Chosen One, gathering power away from these infidels and weaklings.

He was definitely flying the wrong flag though.

For the most part, the Sith Lord remained silent, not breaking his companion’s flow of words as he, too, fell into the trap of melancholy. Knowing that merely being a Sith automatically branded him a monster by everyone, even the most loyal citizens of the One Sith, weighted heavily on his mind. He hated the One Sith for destroying everything the true Sith had tried to build. He hated the Jedi for being so ignorant and not distinguishing between actual Sith and Dark Jedi merely using their honourable name. He hated the ignorant Acolytes rejecting his wisdom. He hated himself for riding the tiger still, unable to dismount the beast. Veles saw the wisdom in not challenging the hundreds of Dark Jedi, using their discoveries to further the Sith agenda, but indifferently witnessing their crimes and doing nothing felt wrong.

“Why would a Sith help you, my lady, indeed,” the Sith mused as well, one webbed finger silently tapping into the glass, “It seems you need my help to uncover the truth about the tragedy– thus helping you feels like the right thing to do.” Was this supposed to be some sort of self-redeeming thing to make himself feel better? Avreet never believed in redemption, unlike his Jedi opponents, yet his assistance to the One Sith could not be denied. Was he just as guilty for all these innocents murdered even though he had never spilled innocent blood? Or was his lack of action the exact thing making him a monster?

His head hurt. He didn’t want to think about it. More water vanished in his throat and the Mon Cal suddenly believed he understood why some sentients resorted to drinking alcohol instead of keeping their mind sharp.

"I can get you into the One Sith space, my lady, and assist you in your search. My rank alone still holds some significance - and as my...," he couldn't think of a proper word, leading to a moment of awkward silence further underlined by the frown spreading over the assassin's face, "As my Dark Jedi colleagues have ensured, nobody will oppose us. No non-Force user, at least. Everyone is too afraid of dying to even look at a member of the One Sith." A sigh and another shake of his large head before Veles' gaze settled on the woman once more.

"I am Darth Veles, by the way, but please... call me Avreet."

The frown vanished, replaced by a bright smile.

[member="Cora Passek"]

 

[Cora Passek]

"You'll have to forgive me ... It's just not something I understand. Never has a Sith deigned to help me before. So I only find all of this so strange." More than strange. Cora still wasn't entirely sure what to make of his words. But at least he seemed willing to help her get the much needed information about her past. Things, places and knowledge that she in no way could get to on her own without such assistance. This was something she never dreamed of happening to her. Never dreamed that she'd accept help from such a creature.

She sighed quietly, using the handkerchief to wipe away the few stray tears that had spilled over onto her pale cheeks. "It's help, I'd much appreciate. I can't think of much other way to get this information that doesn't risk life and limb. For stealing from the Sith, even information can come at a grave price. One I'm not willing to pay these days." But you will trust a Sith to get it for you? To help you? Be careful child, he just might put a blade in your back if you aren't careful. Oh trust me darling .... I'll be careful. Good, because it exhausts me to have to take control from you, just to use my talents to save your ass. So, I'd like to avoid that altogether. So would I ... So would I. After all, I hardly trust you enough to return my body back to my control. You don't exactly like to let go once you take over. Can you blame me love? After thousands of years without a body? Can you really blame me? ... No, I suppose not.

"Avreet." She said with a nod, committing the name to memory. The Darth name wasn't one she was going to be repeating anytime soon. That was something that simply felt wrong to her. Another sigh fell from her lips, looking far more tired than she actually was. Picking up her glass she quickly swallowed the last bit of alcohol, and glanced to the creature as she placed the glass back on the counter. "When do you think we can leave?"

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Quiet observation of his female companion revealed no amber drops of alcohol left in her glass, her words further proving she was done with drinking and ready to leave. Darth Veles only hoped she wasn’t drunk, not to the point walking would be impossible at least, but given the blonde talked with no trouble indicated she was more… experienced than him when it came to drinking. As more water rolled over his tongue, the assassin silently appreciated his choice of ordering nothing but water for himself. Given the incredibly fast rate at which he could get wasted combined with the fact he was about to pilot a ship, one quickly saw the advantages of leaving alcohol to others. One nod and the Sith Lord set his own glass down as well with a clink, turning his attention to the blonde.

“We can leave immediately!” Avreet informed her and hopped off the bar stool, noticing more regulars started to enter the small canteen in hopes of getting wasted enough to forget about themselves. The glare of his watched them with suspicion for a bit before turning to the woman and nodding again, a signal to follow as he created them a way through the occasional mass of bodies. Wild and empowered by alcohol, the men and women grew louder, along with the music that only underlined the small establishment’s atmosphere as the local watering hole. Once Avreet made his way to the exit, hopefully with his companion behind still, the Mon Cal finally stepped out and let the evening’s silence refresh his senses. It felt good to be outside, despite the air still retaining its warmth. It certainly lacked the odour of alcohol mixed with sweat.

One wouldn’t have guessed an hour or two must have passed when the duo chatted inside, but the light’s slight red hue and the lack of people passing through streets immediately had Avreet and his blonde companion know it wasn’t long before night. Of course, the amphibious Sith led the way, staying close to the woman. His pace brisk and steady, yet not rushing, the Sith Lord had purposely picked another way to his ship – one that did not have a rotting body of a Dark Jedi in the way. Slightly turning his head towards his companion, the Sith finally asked the most important of questions, just as the silhouette of his ship appeared after rounding another corner. Its design and sharp features uncommon among local vessels delivered the final proof of his allegiance.

“You have me at disadvantage, my lady,” he pointed out as the boarding ramp started to descend, “You know my name, but your own remains a mystery to me.”

A simple gesture of his right hand pointed towards the entrance, inviting her to enter the elegant infiltrator vessel.

Ladies first.

[member="Cora Passek"]

 

[Cora Passek]

Immediately, that wasn't the answer Cora was expecting. Truth be told she expected an entirely different answer, with them both waiting a day or two before leaving. Right now, the two of them, her brain wasn't entirely with it. Nonetheless the blonde hopped gracefully off the barstool and followed Avreet along through the crowds.

Keeping pace with him, and keeping a cautious eye out, did take a bit of effort. One never could be too careful on Tatooine. Trouble was down literally every alley here. Seeing the ship ahead, she sighed softly. Her paranoia and lack of trust in anyone was rising to the surface, as did her nerves. Getting on a strange ship, always came with risks. And Cora had plenty of reason to be concerned about that. After all, once the hatch was sealed, she was stuck with him until they reached their destination.

Cora managed a faint smile, and gave a slight nod as she realized she in fact did not give him her name. Perhaps an effect of the alcohol she had already drank this evening. "I'm Cora, Cora Passek." She said softly, almost nervously. Giving out her true name wasn't something she often did. Especially not with someone she barely knew, much less trusted. It felt even more wrong that she'd just given it to a Sith. But alas, it was what it was.

With one last anxious sigh, the woman stepped on board. Pausing just inside the ship, she turned back to wait for the amphibian. After all, she didn't like to walk around willy nilly on a stranger's ship. She certainly hated when people did that on her own ship. So, she waited patiently, though anxiously. This part of the trip, she just merely wanted to be over with already. Too many things could go wrong between here and Sith Space. But still, she did have a Sith with her ... IF he could be trusted. And right now, she wasn't too sure of that. Not with her paranoia coming to the forefront of her mind.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

The sound of his boots tapping on metal grew closer as Veles ascended the ramp and appeared right in front of the woman who awaited him there, standing in silence. Avreet’s gaze indifferently passed her, moving towards the wall where a switch waited for the Mon Cal’s finned hand to press it and shut the hatch closed behind them, bathing the entire cargo bay in darkness. Both sentients aboard Your Deathbed vanished in an impenetrable night, a tense moment of silence where one could hear nothing more than their own breath and the low hum of the inner systems powering up.

It lasted only for a few seconds before the ship’s lights automatically flicked on and illuminated the area in a clean, white light, revealing several sealed boxes of supplies stuffed by the walls. It also showed the large Mon Cal’s eyes looking right at [member="Cora Passek"]. Avreet fully realized how sudden this interesting turn of events had to feel, to throw her life into hands of someone she did not trust. Was her distaste for Sith and Imperials justified? Was she about to be ripped in half, her blood used as paint to decorate the ship’s sterile?! Was the Sith going to torture her endlessly, practice the most twisted of powers on her body?!

“Welcome aboard, lady Passek,” the Sith Lord stated, offering a friendly smile, “Please, if you follow me, I’ll show you around the ship.”

No sign of aggression or foul intentions, the Sith spoke calmly in the soothing way that was so typical for him. Clasping his webbed hands behind his back, the amphibious assassin walked past his guest, passing through tight corridors and giving her an insight into the room layout. Everything served its purpose – this was a stealth ship, not a pleasure cruiser, the bunk-like bed in Cora’s chamber that was to become her temporary living quarters for the duration of her stay proved that.

“… and here we have the cockpit,” Avreet finished as the unlikely duo entered the last unexplored place. The Sith Lord casually walked over to the pilot’s seat, sitting down, but before his webbed claws started fiddle with switches and controls, Veles turned his head so his gaze met Cora again.

“Please, make yourself at home. You’re my guest now.”

Finally, the Sith turned on all systems and performed the necessary checks; lights flashed, changing from red to green, the sound of engines purred as the ship moved, shaking off dust and sand that had accumulated on its outer plating during the prolonged stay. Soon enough, they were off, and the moment Veles added Coruscant’s coordinates into the ship’s computer and entered hyperspace, he was free to leave and tend to his guest. The beautiful scenery of space right beyond the window changed drastically, white dots of stars became lines, just as differently coloured planets. Then a shimmering tunnel of blue and white engulfed the ship.

Spinning on his heel after getting off the seat, the Sith offered another polite smile. Time to show the guest the famous hospitality the Empire was famous for.

“Coffee, tea? Something to eat, perhaps? We have various vegetables normally used for salads and bantha steaks.”

 

[Cora Passek]

Cora glanced to Avreet with a soft sigh, trying to force her nerves to the back of her mind. Anything to try not to wander into the possibilites of what could happen. She nodded quietly and fell in line behind him as he took her through the ship. Her eyes flicked from side to side, taking in important details, trying to make sure a few things stuck in her mind.

"Thank you." She at last said quietly, as they came into the cockpit. A part of her had the urge to just return to what was her room and remain there for the duraction. However, something kept her from leaving the cockpit. Slowly Cora took a seat beside him, and glanced over the controls. It never hurt to be familiar, just in case.

"Tea, if you don't mind. Atrisian if you have it. If not, that's fine." She'd gained a taste for Atrisian teas while she worked for that particular little Empire. "Though I'll come with you." Cora said as she got to her feet once more. Paranoia taking over, though this had more to do with a certain woman by the name of Moria Skaldi that drugged her through food, than anything else. After that experience, even if it was for her own good to get her down to mend some of her wounds, she still was quite paranoid about who made her food, who touched it and the like from then on. And well, this Sith, she had no faith in at the moment. Not at all. Though, he was remarkably different from any Sith she'd yet met.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

“I am afraid I do not have that kind of tea, lady Cora,” the Sith Lord apologized, looking at her for a bit as she expressed her wish to follow him, “But do not worry, please; I’ll make another!”

With a polite smile offered to the woman, the Sith Lord marched through the ship, his guest right staying right behind. The journey did not take long and after the unlikely duo rounded another corner within the metal beast, they entered a small kitchen serving as a dining room as well. It served its purpose well enough though, so immediately after seating the woman by the table dominating much of the cabin, the Mon Cal swiftly moved to the kitchen unit and started working. Soon, very soon, the strong aroma of tea filled the entire room and Darth Veles turned around, an entire tea-set in his webbed hands. Even after carefully setting it on the table, his hands did not stop moving – one cup appeared in front of the blonde Imperial, filled with dark liquid in an instant. It was then that the Mon Calamari finally stopped; one hand holding tongs that in turn grasped a cube of sugar after reaching into a sugar bowl, the other hand holding a jug filled with milk of the same colour as the sugar.

“Please, how many cubes?” came the first question and Cora would see the Sith doing as she wished.

“Would you like some milk?” came another, the same thing.

Only after the guest’s been presented with a cup of tea of her wishes, the Sith Lord filled his own cup, adding neither sugar nor tea. One wouldn’t have recognized a Sith Lord in him in this very moment of peace and relaxation, the entire scene looking like a happy picture of good friends. The only thing ruining the atmosphere was the ship’s cold and sterile interior, shamelessly contrasting the rich texture of the hot liquid. Too hot, in fact, prompting Veles to leave his cup alone for a bit, eyes once more finding the head of his dear guest.

“Please, tell me more about yourself, lady Passek.”

Something about her felt off. He must have overlooked something.

A terrible thought crossed his mind and the amphibious assassin mentally cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. The change in temperature between Tatooine’s burning city and the ship’s cold interior must have been noticed by the guest. If [member="Cora Passek"] had spent more than a day or two on Tatooine before boarding a space vessel like this, the chances of her freezing were somewhat high.

“My lady,” he started carefully, “Please forgive me for asking, but aren’t you cold? I can offer my cloak if you wish.”