A Rising Tide

[Maia Halos]

At the edges of Sith Imperial space, there were always the desperate. Those who had been pushed out because they were unwilling to accept sith rule, or those that fed on the former. Pirates abound on those hazy fringes, making certain territories difficult or even dangerous to traverse for those not settled comfortably in military vessels. The Sith could eradicate them at any time, but some areas were left, for one reason or another. To soften up a border world and make it easier to tug into the fold either due to weakness or a final reluctant willingness to ask for protection. To harass greater irritants.

Or because they made useful tasks for up and coming Sith in their passages up the ranks.

Maia was a knight in all but name. One last task before she was told to kneel and accept. She was ready. She had never wanted something as much as she wanted this. It wasn't to please her Master, but to please herself. Where others had seen weakness, the Sith had seen potential, but the framing of the viewer hadn't actually changed who or what Maia was.

The young woman suspected that the choice of final task had been deliberate. It would have been easiest to address this as a stealth op. To take them out in the shadows, one by one, the others never knowing until the half moment where the red glow of the lightsaber illuminated their death. Her master had given her a task that was custom tailored to her weaknesses in the Force.

But her Master had not taken into account that everything Maia did was because she knew how to compensate for a much older void.

She had not come in the night, as a shadow. Instead she had come as an inexorable force, unbending, unyielding, each step into the hollowed out asteroid a step through blood and worse.

Sometimes they fought.

Sometimes they ran.

But every one of them died, bathed in the red light of twin sabers hanging in the air unfettered.

Searching with the Force, she could feel the half dozen or so scattered signatures past the trio that knelt before her now. Still work to do, but it was only the stragglers. Those who thought that hiding would save them. Cowards. They would die, shaking and begging.

These at least were just begging.

Criminals, to the last. Criminals by anyone's definition of the word. Sith, Imperial, Jedi, Republic, Confederation, all condemned the acts of pirates. Maia felt not a shred of remorse. Mynocks, and before they sucked all of the life out of a sector they had to be removed without pity or hesitation.

Two sabers floated on either side of the small cluster of sentients at her feet.

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

[member="Maia Halos"]

Today was a good day.

For once the bathroom hadn't been occupied since the morning. The water had been hot. No one hammering at the door. Absolutely perfect. It was one of the few times Byron Flint managed to complete his crossword puzzles. Music in his ears, nice and loud, just forgetting all the chit for a while. It was luck (or perhaps a lack of it) that made the corridor clean.

Empty.

No bloody corpses or anything.

Maybe Byron wouldn't be humming to his music, while strolling out of the bathroom otherwise. A nice relax swagger. Hummm, huuhuhuuhuuuum. Oooh yeaaaah. To himself all the while.

Until he stepped foot into Maia's room.

A pause. A BLINKBLINK.

"Um, I can see that you are rather busy, so I will just...." Starting to take a few steps back. The really interesting part though? Maia couldn't sense him in the Force. Like his presence was all smeared across the room. Like a spilled milkshake. Only once you went looking for it, did you notice the gorram mess against the backdrop of the white tiles.

The pirates waiting for their death? Groaning and cursing him out.

"Hey! As if you would put yar arse on the line for me, Roberts."

Flint wasn't running.

After those few steps? Waiting. This wasn't something to run from. Those hovering lightsabers said enough about that. Last thing he needed was those embedded into his fleeing back.

 

[Maia Halos]

Maia's speed with her sabers wasn't chained to the limits of muscles and firing neurons. It was only arrested by the speed of her thought and that moved much faster. The man found one of the two sabers slashing through the air too fast to possibly stop and yet... it did, mere centimeters beneath his chin, the light reflecting up the lines of his face.

She hadn't felt him before he'd come through the doors, and when that attention flickered (never completely away from the trio at her feet, one saber still hanging in the air beside them) it took her a moment to understand. It was the way he stood, the easy mannerisms rather than giving in to the flight or fight response that told her to look deeper. That.... was peculiar. And not how a non-force user felt within the Force. She couldn't really find the edges, very easy to have missed him at a distance especially, and only feeling the sensation now that she was looking for it, but oh, someone could slip in that and never know.

If he had run, she would have cut him down without a second thought. If he had fought? She would have met him with a low, grim smile.

"Rather busy slaughtering your comrades, yes. You seem rather relaxed about that, but I suppose there's no honor here is there?"

A faint trace of mockery. Hard to tell if she actually cared about honor or not.

They were the first words she'd spoken since entering the hollowed out asteroid. Warm and sardonic.

"Not from that on-"

"Oh be quiet."

The saber beside the kneeling men darted. Flesh parted. Throat cut, the body slowly slumped, the saber humming in the air there, poised to strike the remaining two.

"You are a force user," she said, as if that hadn't happened at all, her gaze heavy on the only man standing in the room.

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

[member="Maia Halos"]

The moment that lightsaber floated out?

Rigid still.

Peering down with his eyes only. A gulp there. Even that movement enough for a few of his hairs to be caught. The plasma sizzling. Baaaaad idea and he told himself not to gulp again, until this moment was over. Weird how it was kinda. Um. Exciting. Something he did not voice. Right now, anyway. Maybe once Byron had a better idea what he was dealing with.

Maybe.

"Eh, since you are here with Dread Captain Roberts? I gotta assume you already slaughtered yer way through da whole place." He began to shrug. Then grimaced and immediately stopped that. "Dun' matter much what I will do, right?"

Eyes went a bit wide, when she executed Roberts.

Sweat starting to trickle down in spite of himself.

Sure that one had been a cold bastard. And he didn't much care about the rest either, but... this was a bit much. "Well, yes, but they didn't know that." Byron added a bit grumpily at her reveal. The cursing started again. They didn't much enjoy getting to know their former brother-in-arms a bit better. Not when it was a secret that he had been keeping from them.

It would probably have helped them a number of times.

The time on Teta. The other time on Teta. That one stint over at Telti. And, really, who could forget Tattooine?

Come to think of it..... all of those started with a T.

They really need to get more creative with figuring out planetary names.

 

[Maia Halos]

"Almost. There are a few stragglers. You amoung them as it happens. Was that Roberts then?" She asks, tone particular incurious despite the question.

Her thoughts flicked and with a lightening fast slice the two cursing men were silenced- rather permanently.

"And now they're dead," she said with a shrug.

He hadn't made any attempt to stay her hand after the slaughter of the first. Would it have made a difference? No. But it would have made him significantly more boring.

Maia didn't have a particular problem with that issue. There was plenty in her life to keep her interested and occupied that wasn't this. She did not need the slaughter or psychological mayhem to stave off boredom the way she saw in some of the other acolytes and knights. Masters? Well, she knew better than to scrutinized THEM too closely. One day, but not now. There was a fine line between boldness and sticking your head too far up and getting it snipped off. During her apprenticeship she had erred on the side of circumspection, and while the newly minted title she was aiming for gave her more freedom, she had no intention of changing that drastically.

She did not revel in the killings, but neither did she regret them. There had been a task given and she had executed it (along with dozens of people) swiftly and without mercy. She had been taught as a child that killing was wrong of course, and she still believed that-

To a point.

Killing was wrong when it was not right.

And whether it was right or not, well.

That was rather situational, now wasn't it?

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

[member="Maia Halos"]

"That was ind-"

And then she executed the rest with a swift move.

This time no blink from him. Just a very dry mouth and an ever wetter back. Sweat trickling down like an ocean. Maybe not an ocean. A very clogged-up toilet, yes, that was a better image for the head. Starting to flow suddenly, just when you least needed it. "Well, yes." He acknowledged. Only after a moment of pure staring though. Whatever was going on beyond those eyes was anyone's guess.

"I'd salute you, chaps, but I am rather .... tied up right now."

A sigh there.

"Do you mind if you lower the saber a bit more? I'd like to wipe my brow. It's rather hot here all of a sudden. All that sweat is not doing me any favors." A crooked, half-arsed grin followed haphazardly. Byron hated these sort of situations. In spite of that they were a frequent occurrence. Just something about that face. It drew scrutiny, but then it also drew consideration.

Both boldly and italicized, yes.

"Anything I can say to convince you to...." His fingers gesturing lazily there. Towards the corpses. "....not do that to me?"

 

[Maia Halos]

"Oh, I think it's a good look," she said, now amused.

She did not lower the saber.

Tipping her head slightly, she considered him for a long moment. Probing, once more, with the Force around him.

"Would you beg?"

"Would it make a difference?"

"Not really, no."

She left the sides of the three dead men, the second lightsaber following, floating through the air at her side, as though held in a loose grip. There could be none of course, but what she had was better. She wasn't limited by muscles and sinew, by joints that only bent in some directions and not all, by the speed of flesh. Only by the limits of her ability to predict and enforce her desire on the things around her.

A slow blink and he felt the air around him solidify, like a giant hand wrapping around his arms and torso. Slowly, lifting him up until his feet dangled a few centimeters above the floor. The saber at his throat followed.

"Give me a reason," she murmured. She was shorter than he, already looking up at him, and this had only made that angle greater, but there was no weakness in that perspective. "Tell me why I should let you live?"

Tipping her head, eyes on his.

"What would your life be worth..... to me."

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

[member="Maia Halos"]

"Oh, well, then. Who am I to argue?" He demurred rather quickly.

What was there to say to that?

Byron was a lot of things. Kinda cowardly, a little bit of a mouthy chit, egotistic, had a lot of vices too. He wasn't sure where that train of thought was supposed to go. It all kept circling back on his flaws. This wasn't a very useful piece of information. Knowing you sucked when you were about to die. "Then I wouldn't. Note- not because I have too much pride, but because I'd rather spare you the torture of my begging."

A theatrical sigh there as he dangled.

His legs were starting to lose their feeling. Why were his knees itching right now? What was that about. Prickles in his skin. Like miniature needles were being stuck. It was really distracting.

To the extent that when she asked those last two questions?

She got a blink back.

Then another owlish blink.

"Um. Well, you see. I really don't have any pride. Like. None. So.... I suppose if you were to spare my life, I'd be eternally grateful and do whatever you want?" Another attempt at a dashing smile. This one seemed loopy. More like a flawed grimace. Mostly because his knees were still itching like a mother. Hell, not just them. Now his toes were adding themselves into the mix.

Those freaking selfish bastards.

"I am good at things!" Byron quickly added. As if he saw something of hope in her eyes. Wanting to seize at that, make sure she didn't change her mind. If he talked fast enough he might convince her mind not to draw away into wisdom. "Piloting, haggling, mean one with a blaster too.... I could even fold your laundry."

Desperate offer there.

Sweat beads trickling down.

Like Byron didn't have enough to worry about. Itching toes and knees. Now he saw double because of the sweat in his eyes. Like he needed two Sith in his optics.

 

[Maia Halos]

She could feel his skittering discomfort. Practically like electricity across her skin. Neither enjoyable nor uncomfortable in and of itself. But what really would anyone expect? She didn't get anything out of the fear itself, but what it could mean, that was different.

Perhaps if she had dug deeper, she might have seen more. But no one is infallible and there were pressures of the now to concern herself with.

The climb within the Sith was a clawing passage through intrigue, power, politics, knowledge, loyalty, and luck (more specifically, the ability to take advantage of a situation offered without planning). Maia knew which of those she already held in her hand and which of them she lacked. One could step into power without all of those things, but the more of them there were, the greater her chances grew. Maia was not content to the rank of Knight, or one of the Masters without sway. She had been starved of agency in her youth, excuses made for her disability. The Sith offered a chance to grow to so much more than anyone would have ever envisioned for her and she had come know within herself over the years of her apprenticeship that she wanted even more.

Here was a certain splash of luck with the potential for more.

She decided to take it.

"I've never had a lackey." The word chosen deliberately. Making clear precisely what the expectation of his role to her would be. "Perhaps it would be interesting to try. I'd most likely kill you in the morning."

She stepped closer, "You are a Force User," her own face lit now by the crimson light of the saber at his throat.

"What is your allegiance?" The words low and brittle. There was precisely one correct answer. It was not a hard one to figure out.

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

"Truly? I hear they are all the fashion these days."

Very quickly to accept his fate. After all, lackey wasn't slave and slave wasn't death. Two types of improvements in one go. Was there really anything more Byron could wish for? Well, yes. A lot of things probably. A nice and warm bath. Maybe some coffee. Being let go, so his blood circulation could start flowing again.

You had to be realistic about these sort of things though.

No point in looking into a horse's ear. Wasn't that how the saying went?

"Ah well, if I can see the sunrise at least one more time it will be worth it. Certainly." That hope flashing through him. Only a brief distraction though. Knees and toes were followed with his nose. The most frustrating of itches.

Especially with that sweat trickling down there.

Didn't scratch, but sure as hell was tickling.

"Yes, yes, you are correct!" Quick admission. She knew already anyway. "Oh, well. Um." A swallow there. "Can I bother you with asking your name?"

Ruining the moment a little, since she probably wanted him to respond with a clear-cut *you*.

That's Byron for you though.

He never quite did what was expected from him.

 

[Maia Halos]

He was rewarded with a smile, but that was hollow reward. There was nothing kind in it.

Maia had learned a long time ago just how worthless kindness was when it was offered as the only possible sustenance.

"Of course."

For a heartbeat, the hum of the saber withdrew from his neck. But the next moment he was suddenly dropped. Not merely dropped but pressed down. The jarring in his legs already losing feeling plus that pressure would find him on his knees at her feet. The smile never left her face as she looked down at him.

"I am Maia Halos. But you can call me Master."

Would she train him? She hadn't decided. Technically, she couldn't make that decision until she came back having completed this task, and gained that title of Knight.

What were those details though here and now?

"And you will, yes?" The sensation of pressure beneath his chin, like a hand where there was none, raising his face up. The phantom sensation of fingers curling around his jaw.

"Your allegiance, Byron?" Her voice was low, murmured, the feeling tightening slightly on his face. She had heard the name when the others had been cursing him. First or last? She would worry about it later. For now, she waited, eyes never leaving the expressions flickering across his face.

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

[member="Maia Halos"]

That smile didn't offer anything good.

Byron still answered it with a nervous smile of his own. Smile. Always. You couldn't disturb a smiling ma- he was suddenly dropped. The force suspending him up in the air disappearing. Gone. It was quite a shock. Accelerated by a downwards push. He crumbled like a sack of potatoes. In truth? It was only her own effort, her own will, holding him up at his knees.

She could feel that too.

The weigh his body was slumping.

If not for her? He'd be fetal right about now. His knees hurt, he bit his tongue during the fall and it was hurting like a mother. "Yes, Master Halos! I am yours." He quickly added, before the opportunity was gone for him. A moment of pause. "Ow. I think I bit my tongue."

"My allegiance is to Maia Halos, my Master." Ow. It feels like I am talking with marbles in my mouth.

A silent stretch there.

Flint coughing.

"Can I gather up some of my stuff maybe?" A bit hopeful there again.

 

[Maia Halos]

She supported his weight for a moment. Long enough for him to say you.

And then she let go, letting him crumple to the ground- or support himself. It didn't much matter to her which.

Oh, Maia wasn't a fool. This was not real loyalty. This was made under the most extreme duress possible, but that didn't mean there wasn't potential use there. The question was only how far and could she turn it into something real? And if she could not.... what would be the price in the end?

Part of her felt.... disappointed. Let down. It had been.... easy? Was it supposed to be? Shouldn't she feel something the first time someone called her Master? Mostly she was more interested in finishing this job than in gloating or seeing just how far she could push this different sort of 'power' to start.

She glanced down at him.

Probably not the first time he'd disappointed someone.

She considered his question, mulling for a moment.

"Once I have finished what I came here to do. Come."

There were still a handful of pirates left. It did not take long.

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

[member="Maia Halos"]

Crumble.

Most definitely crumble.

It was sudden. The invisible bonds on him plopping out of existence. A sudden woah! and he crashed. Barely managed to put his arms up. Keep the money maker intact, you know? Did not pay any mind to her contemplations though. Too busy sorting out every little pain of his. Every ache. Discomfort. Those things were important to a man. Kept him tethered to reality.

When you got too comfortable things happened.

Like enjoying a good time at the bathroom with crossword puzzles. Just to be caught as the lackey of an aspiring Sith.

Good times.

"O-oh, okay, sure!" Byron pipped up. It was a good thing he couldn't read her mind. Her thoughts were rather uncalled for, if you asked him. Nobody was asking him. Which was part of the problem as far as he was concerned.

Her newest recruit turned out to be especially helpful. Without any prompt? He pointed out a secret passageway. And how to open it too. That's where they found the last batch of pirates. Oh, sure, she knew they were out there. But knowing that they were there ain't the same thing as getting to them. She would have been running circles through the winding paths for days, if he hadn't been there to point it out.

Something Byron didn't point out.

Too uncomfortable by her coldly executing the pirates.

He looked away- unless she forced him to watch, and even then he tried to disassociate himself from it.

"Soo... I could... meet you at the... hangarbay?" The question hopeful as they walked out. Leaving slaughter behind them.

 

[Maia Halos]

She did not force him to watch.

But she noted where he offered without prompting... and where he shied away.

It didn't take long, not with his help. Finding them was swift and efficient and wasted none of her time or patience- which wouldn't have been the case if she'd needed to do this herself. Oh, she would have gotten them in the end. But it might have come at the cost of her literally tearing the inside of the asteroid apart to get at that. Doing that would have left her irritated.

Instead, she was able to do it and get on with it. She could be annoyed at his request but honestly that just seemed unreasonable. Despite the lack of outward response, inwardly she was pleasantly surprised by his willingness to offer up the lives of what had presumably been if not friends at least men and women he had known well and worked with.

However like hell was she going to let him out of her sight. That much trust hadn't been gained.

"No." She even smiled while she said it, her tone easy and light despite the finality of it.

"Show me."

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

[member="Maia Halos"]

A sigh there, but then a nod.

It wasn't like he really thought she'd let him. For better or worse Flint was stuck with her right now. But nobody could blame him for the attempt. It was merely a good amount of sense to do so. "Okay, yeah, sure, follow me then!" Trying to insert a little bit of enthusiasm into his tone. "I hope you won't mind the mess." Over his shoulder, a little bit of a nervous edge there at his throat. "Wasn't really expecting any visitors you see."

Wringing his hands absently.

"Probably should have done the laundry.... maybe air the room a little bit..." To himself really there, or so it seemed anyway. "Someone of your stature probably is used to something entirely different, of course."

That last bit added while stepping over a still-smoking corpse.

A shiver ran across his spine.

Finally they arrived at his room. It had been corridors blending into corridors. Left, right, right, left. Down the hall. Steps down. The cacophony of the engine room could be faintly heard through the walls. Definitely close to it. Which also translated into heat. It was warmer here, than where they had come from. A more comfortable temperature. He shrugged off his jacket and dropped it next to the door the moment he stepped into the room.

No viewport there.

Not all that large either.

There was a mattress in one corner serving as a bed. Books on top of books in a different corner. Half of it adventures, detectives, a few historical ones too. But the other half seemed to be more technical instructions.

A display was humming absently next to the mattress. It had a shatter in it, but still seemed operational.

There was a clear stale scent to the air. Of worn paper and lived in quality. "Sorry for the mess... just... stand or sit wherever you'd like, ma'am." Starting to gather up some chit.

 

[Maia Halos]

Someone of her stature.

Be careful the assumptions you make was one of the earliest things that had been drilled into her by her teacher. As well to use those assumptions when they were to your benefit.

Were they here? She honestly didn't know. It was one thing to be told that, another thing to put it into practice. How was she to know when it would benefit her and when it would not? Surely here yes? Have him assume she was more than what she was- an apprentice on the cusp of knighthood.

No.

She was a Knight. She had only yet to be given the title, but the rank itself she had earned.

Maia let him ramble on, half listening, half absorbing. The increased warmth was uncomfortable. Her homeworld and her master's home on Bastion being far cooler climes. It was a temporary and minor discomfort true, and for now at least easily ignored. There was a certain ease in her shoulders for the moment. The man she followed was little threat, she had accomplished her task, the new rank all but given and certainly earned. Now there only lay a few, small tasks to finish. Her newest acquisition's... acquisitions.... and the customary gift to her Master upon attaining knighthood. As she mulled over that one, they reached their destination.

The young woman paused in the doorway, looking around critically, but saying nothing. The sheer quantity of things.

"We are not staying here, you owe me no apology for the state of a room."

The word choice clear. No longer his room.

She didn't rush him, merely watched. Noting what he was taking and what he was leaving. She did not offer to help. To carry anything. What he wanted he could manage. And she was curious just how much these THINGS meant to him.

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

[member="Maia Halos"]

"Well... yes, I suppose that is true..." Byron muttered back, while piling on the books.

Clearly he wasn't expecting any help from her.

A blaster was picked up. His eyes brushed its frame, then to her, and then he put it down in the duffel bag. Clearly wasn't interested in starting anything. It had been a nice blaster too though. Pearls adorning the casing. Very luxurious and expensive. In fact, it seemed to be the only object in the room worth a damn. In an objective sense anyway. They way he picked up a locket with a picture in it, slinging it over his neck, told about some nostalgia there at least.

"Can I ask where we are going after this?" Waving his hands there a little bit. "If it's not too much of a problem, Master, I wouldn't want to presume anything."

Back to books packing.

"Someone of your power is above answering questions, I am sure."

Tone very respectful. Almost servile there. If not for that tone it might have sounded like a mock though. Certainly that couldn't be the case here. Not with the way he had simply bend for her. Accepting her supremacy. Led her to his former comrades for her to slaughter.

There did not seem a single backbone in him.

The books were plenty- a few histories, some technical how-to's (how to clean a toilet, wash clothes, how to solve some computer problems). He noticed her look there and coughed gently. "As your personal lackey I figure it might be good to maintain a few basic skills now."

 

[Maia Halos]

This was going to get old fast wasn't it?

She had assumed she'd take to being called 'Master' easily. Be kowtowed to. But honestly? It was mostly just a little irritating. Was it something older sith matured into? Something you grew to like as you aged, like bitter vegetables or black caf? Already she was considering just what to do if she did not grow accustomed and instead only grew more annoyed by it.

It took actual willpower to not roll her eyes at him at the 'someone of your power' line.

What, exactly, was this man? He wasn't a brave one that was certain. But was he a coward? In a way, yes, but different from how the ones who had turned and fled were. Could someone be brave but also lack a spine, completely and utterly?

She hadn't known that combination could exist and it was utterly bizarre to watch in action.

"Bastion," she said simply.

Then.... was she so different?

Yes. The word settled firmly between her eyes.

A shrug there when he explained. "There are other people to take care of that sort of thing," dismissive. "But I don't care what you bring."

Mostly true. Very strange man.

Although....

"Why books?" She finally asked. "Why not holodisks? You could fit all of that information on a single disk that would fit in your pocket."

[member="Byron Flint"]

 

[Luca Caldogne]

[member="Maia Halos"]

For all her internalization Byron was still just packing his stuff.

Completely unaware of the effect he was having on her.

Presumably.

"Ah, yes, Bastion. Grand place. Absolutely fabulous. I am not surprised you have made it your home." He commented lightly as he strung up the duffel bag. Circling around his own heels, watching the room with something of nostalgia to his eye. Then tip-toeing over the mess to a small box next to the mattress. Picking out some coins there. Pocketing them and taking out a small knife.

Weighing it for a moment and then moving forward towards her.

"As a token of my servitude. In my culture this blade symbolizes my name. I don't feel comfortable keeping it, if I am to serve as your lackey, Master."

A nod followed thereafter.

"Oh yeah, okay. I will do whatever you want me to do." A shrug there. Didn't really matter to him. His fate was sealed and wasn't that the grandest thing ever? No longer having to worry about the next hour, hours or days? "A book has weight to it. A smell. Scent. Feel. Holo-disks-" A cough there, before shrugging. "Okay, you ain't buying it, I can see that. One of our first missions we hijacked a freighter. Turned out to be hauling books for the Core."

It had been mildly embarrassing really.

Poor people being shocked out of their mind for being robbed.

And it turned out to be books.

"Most of 'em just used it to pitch a fire. Thought that was a waste of our first haul, so I picked some to read." An awkward grin there, before indicating they could leave the room. "So, uh, where is Bastion again?" Like he hadn't paid it compliment after compliment just a few minutes ago.

Absolutely shameless.