Nine Till Five

[Leena Mai]

Bureaucrats. Let me tell you about bloody bureaucrats. You know how useful they are? A slowly melting herd of chocolate dildos, that's approximately just how useful bureaucrats are.

With the destruction of the Palace upon Coruscant Leena had found herself temporarily in a state of vacancy. Of course, not one to waste the tax payer's credits she was sadly not permitted to be on paid vacation until said Palace was rebuilt. No, there was always a time, place and need for vaguely job-titled administrative assistants. Always.

Stimcaf. Paperwork. Schedules. Paperwork. Meetings. Paperwork. Hiding affairs from spouses.

You'd be surprised at how incapable those at the top were at datapad management. Clicking on spam like demented grannies.

However, Leena at least thought they'd send her to an administrative scene, some nice office buildings. No, no, he sensible heels clicked along the floor of the Sith Temple, surrounded by menacing robed figures, stimcaf clutched in hand like it was her weapon. Good job, mother-dearest didn't send a balloon to this workplace.

This place filled her with more than just unease, she always could have sworn that she saw a whale, which was pretty wild. She needed directions. Lord Carach. That was the title of her new boss. A Lord, sounded swanky. Going back to the bar with the girls later like, 'What's up bitches, I work for a Lord.'

She tapped the shoulder of a hooded finger, almost trembling, “Excuse me, where might I find Lord Cara-”

The creature, who bore scarlet eyes and a face like a melted candle span around and hissed at her, “Haaaaave yoooouuu evvvverrrrr taaassssssteed theeeee kiiiidneeeeeeysssss offfff aaaaannn Ewoooooook?”

Leena promptly threw boiling stimcaf in his face.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Leena Mai"]

In the center of the Valley of the Dark Lords resides the new Sith Temple, a place of worship and contemplation. A place where Sith Acolytes can come together to train and make themselves into something better for the Glory of the Dark Lord and seemingly also to get boiling stimcaf thrown in their faces. A vibration rang throughout the Force, right into the mind of a certain meditating Dark Lord of the Sith, this man was something of an oddity in comparison to the vast majority of the current new Sith Empire.

For one the new Voice of the Korriban Sector hadn’t been part of the clique for a long time, before being appointed to his station. This meant a few things, but the thing that was currently applicable to this thread was the fact that he hadn’t had the time yet to properly settle in. He didn’t have an elaborate spy network established to serve as his eyes and ears throughout the systems, neither did he have a vast bureaucratic system devoted to him and the sector he was supposed to be governed.

Well… that second statement wasn’t entirely true, he did have a bureaucratic system devoted to him, but Carach didn’t have men and women firmly devoted to him and his cause. It were the standard bureaucrats, who had been sitting in their positions for years upon years and were the de-facto rulers of the Empire. They knew the ins and outs, knew how to bend the rules to their will and most importantly… they knew that in a few years when the Voices which they serve in name were finally rotated out of the system… that they would still be in charge of their specific departments.

It was this realization that had dawned upon them and caused them to start thinking independently of the system, made them start developing their own hopes and dreams. Hoping that one day they would be able to become more than they were right now, upstart bureaucrats. If Carach had been able to, he would have taken his old staff with him to this new place, but such a thing would have… attracted far too much attention.

Instead, he had taken a single soul with him, well… maybe a few more than one. His Apprentice, who had proven herself to him and became his Knight. The hand who exacted his Will, but Matsu wasn’t a bureaucrat. She didn’t know how to push papers, and neither had the wish to do such a manual thing. Her destiny was a different one.

Today, as the screams filled the atmosphere of the still comparably intact Sith Temple, the Sith Lord Carach had been expecting a visitor of some kind. The Dark Lord of the Sith had been so kind to allow him to borrow a few administrative personnel, to kickstart his own governmental apparatus and so… the first of many candidates were supposed to join him in his temporary office in the Temple.

So when a youngling ran into his office without even knocking it brought one of his eyebrows right up his forehead, but once the little acolyte finished his story and the Sith Lord stopped beating his head against the proverbial wall… well… the lad didn’t get force choked or electrocuted for his insolence. He did have to stand in the corner on bare knees for the entire duration that Carach was gone though, sometimes you gotta teach your pupils a lesson.

So it was that Darth Carach, on his first day of preceding the Sith Temple as the Voice of the Dark Lord, strode out of his office with a regale stature and entered the outer sanctum of the building and came across the following scene.

A groaning man with a boiled second degree burns on his face, whimpering on the ground, clutching at the ruins of his already disastrous face. By his feet stood a woman, attractive in a variety of ways, still holding the now empty cup, screaming something about poor ewoks and how she would never eat their intestines. She seemed pretty riled up and serious about the matter, Carach’s face was blank for a few moments.

In the Sith Lord’s mind presented itself the firm desire to blink twice, turn around, return to his office and lock the door behind him. But sadly enough this wasn’t the time for shenanigans or daydreams for that matter, instead Carach nodded to himself and a faint smile decorated his lips as he spoke.

His voice boomed through the hall, the darkness radiating from it and establishing authority with a single syllable. Even though he said more than one, so it was more of a Tyranny than simple Authority but the writer digresses. ‘ An Acolyte of the Darkside struck down in a place of Worship by a simple woman and her cup of stimcaf, a disgrace, Salamonus. Dartan, get him to the infirmary, but make sure that the doctors don’t remove the scars. He will carry the wounds of… battle with him for the remainder of his life, or until he proves that he’s more than a simpleton. Woman, with me. ’

Without waiting for her to react the Sith Lord turned around and walked back into the hallway from which he came, into the direction of his office.

 

[Leena Mai]

For a moment Leena thought her life was over. Five minutes into a Sith Temple and she had already assaulted somebody, that's a great start at your new placement, I mean, fan-bloomin'-tastic. I mean, can we just fall to the floor and praise you like the sun?

I mean...

I mean...

DAMN IT, LEENA, ARE YOU ON THE 'STIM? SPIT ON THE GUY WHILE YOU'RE AT IT! KICK HIM AND TELL HIM HIS MOTHER LIKES GAMORREANS GONE WILD!

Thankfully, instead of a horrible death or a trip to the torture chambers (there had to be torture chambers) Leena was rescued by tall, dark and authoritative, or at least she thought she was rescued, there could still be chambers...with spiked chairs and racks, good old fashion medieval style. No no, reign in your imagination.

Without looking back at the man with the scalded face, Leena scurried after the imposing man, now holding a very empty cup and with a question in mind.

“I am so terribly, utterly sorry! He just started screeching about...about eating Ewok kidneys! Can you believe it. Ewok. Kidneys. Sir, sir. I am a civilian. I've never even had bantha kidneys. It's preposterous, it's frightening, I panicked, I'm human!”

She was nattering. Slow down. Take a breath.

“I...” she started, taking a quick oxygen break, “am searching for Lord Carach. Could you direct me to his office....” her voice trailed off, do Sith have offices? “....chamber?”

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Leena Mai"]

She was rambling, it was pretty amusing and for a while Carach had the distinct notion in his head not to tell her about his identity at least for a little while. A lot of fun could have been had in such a situation, with tales of horror and torture on the mysterious Dark Lord who she was going to serve. Then again… Carach did torture people sometimes, so there was that. Not that this was one of those situations, he really had better things to do than torture a girl who threw some hot beverage into some guy’s face.

Carach wasn’t a janitor, and for once he decided to be a bit mature about things. Which came as a surprise to him too.

‘You are speaking to him.’ he said simply, while continuing to walk towards the chamber.

 

[Leena Mai]

Awkward.

Leena blinked.

Super awkward.

Leena blinked approximately eight more times in rapid succession.

“Oh,” was the first thing that escaped her mouth. Then the rampant lack of professionalism that she had just displayed occurred to her. “OH.” No, no, you were just going at three thousand words a minute, don't lock up. Come on girl, I hear your engines stuttering, just need a kick-start, you'll be fine.

“Lord Carach,” she started, posture stiffening into a straighter back, the scurrying sound of her heels transforming into really proper click click clicks, “I am Leena Mai, the Administrative Sector have assigned me as your personal assistant. I am here to aid you in any matters of bureaucracy and government.” Also, all the piddly little nonsense that little women in pencil skirts and heels tended to do. Get my lunch. Get my caff. Bend over this desk for me, slowly. I mean, what?

“I had gotten you a stimcaf, but as you are well aware of, there was an accident. Would you like another?” Huh, I guess she had to be hiding some form of professionalism behind that comical, bumbling guise.

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Leena Mai"]

Some men searched for meek little playthings as their assistants and other servants, they do not wish to hear any form of opposition and through it they only want to fuel their own hubris. Yes, Lord. No, my Lord. It would be my pleasure, My Lord. The only vocabulaire most servants possessed these days, that wasn’t what Carach was looking for.

He needed weapons, tools which he could utilize to terminate any threat to himself and the Dark Lord in general. Tools who were overlooked through their beauty, plainness or other assets in their possession. Tools that would never be considered a threat, until they threw a cup of hot, steaming stimcaf in your face. Already, Mai had proven herself to be far more than the simple assistant most Lords possessed these days, even if she didn’t know it yet herself.

At least she halted her apologizing for a few moments and promptly switched into a more professional mode, it showed a flexibility that most servants had to have and yet the rigid structure of the Empire had made them forget.

Carach still didn’t look back at the woman who was following him dutiful to their chambers, they weren’t that far off anymore and yet the Sith Lord wished to make something more clear ‘Never apologize. The Dark Lord has his Voices and Hands to show his will, and I have mine. If you survive the day you will be elevated as my personal Hand, in this position you must show ruthlessness and restrained at the same time. You must be always certain of your course of action, or at least seem to know what you are doing. You only owe obedience to me and to a greater extent to the Dark Lord himself, never grovel again to anyone else.’ For a moment he halted his speech, until he continued yet again. The pause was a meaningful one, meant for her to consider his words before Carach would suckerpunch her with the following. ‘You will kill, lie and die for me, understand that this will be your entire life from now on and… concerning Salamonus. He was a fool and would have been cut off during his trials, you only showed his failure to the rest of the acolytes ahead of schedule.’

Eventually he did turn around though, with a thoughtful look and maybe just the barest hint of a grin that once belonged to another man, a different man.‘Good job… though I would try and reduce my stimcaf throwing-ways, if I were you. Not all are fools like Sala, and some of them may be able to kill you with the barest flick of their wrist. If someone manages to kill you, that will reflect… poorly on my own name. Do you understand, miss Mai?’

 

[Leena Mai]

Huh, he wasn't so bad.

A bit serious, made the job sound like some kind of occult suicide pact, I mean hey, job title elevation though? Scratch what I said before about meeting the bitches back at the bar, now it's: 'Hey girls, guess who's the Hand of Lord Carach? I am. I am that hand. Suck it.'

Ruthlessness: We can work on it. Restraint: Okay. Seem to know what you're doing: That can be more than achieved. Talk of obedience and grovelling made the woman a touch nervous however, the more he talked the more this job felt like a binding contract of souls. That's how the Sith worked right, in souls? No? Oh gosh.

She continued to follow him, mulling over prospects of obedience and the sexual connotations that came alongside that word, especially in an office environment and then he spoke once more.

Kill: What? Lie: Sure. Die: WHAT?!

Thankfully he was still walking ahead of her, and thus missed her wide-eyed expression of complete and utter shock. Killing? DYING? DYING?! There are things the ordinary assistant is weary of when they get a new employer. Do they have terrible body odour? Are they lecherous? Are they horrifically unspecific? Leena recalled once being asked to, 'get me my lunch at the place I like', on the very first day.

But killing? Dying? This was about twenty levels above hardcore administrative duties.

He turned, and Leena had to suddenly pull her face back into the form of professionalism, lest he caught her terrified at the prospect of future ventures. A polite smile slipped onto her visage upon being complimented, 'Glad I could ruin a Sith Acolyte's future ahead of time, My Lord', she might have said were she feeling cheeky.

“I understand completely, My Lord, I'll avoid scalding any more acolytes for the time being,” she responded with a curt nod of the head, before a pause, Miss Mai bit her lip before blurting out a question, “Do your assistants... die often, My Lord?”

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Leena Mai"]

It seemed as if our brave assistant was having second thoughts concerning her gig and the job description that came with it, wasn’t too surprising either, it was a lot to take in at the first day. But sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, fact was that this was necessary, she had to be thrown into the proverbial swimming pool. To be sure that she was able to handle herself, and if she was a disappointment? She would be replaced real quick, but with her stimcaf-throwing ways… Carach had the idea she would be alright.

For a while the Sith Lord didn’t reply to her, he had already turned around and resumed walking when she asked the question and so they walked on. Right before they reached his chambers, Carach yet again turned around and gave her an answer.

‘Serve me well and death will hardly be an issue for you.’

Hadn’t been the answer to her question, but Carach didn’t want to tell her the truth. That under him… not one of his servants had died, that he took pride in taking care of his people. Hardly the thing you told your new Assistant, when she needed to be on edge. Maybe tomorrow during the coffee-break.

After speaking those cryptic words, Carach opened the door and entered his temporary office. It had been the sanctum of some upstart Sith Knight, who had promptly been kicked out of it the moment the Sith Lord had appeared. A wooden table stood at one edge of the room, with a two seats sitting in front of it.

Couple of bookcases stood against the walls, giving the sense of education and literacy, but nothing more to show any signs of personality of the Dark Lord. No torture devices that suggested cruelty, neither paintings that suggested some measure of refinement.

Just books and a table.

So either Carach was a bookwyrm, or he was a cryptic fella.

 

[Leena Mai]

Well that was ominous.

His silence didn't exactly fill her with confidence as to the lifespan of the Lord's aides, or minions, or hands, whatever he preferred to call them. A year? A month? A week? A...day? Of course Leena's head went to the worst possible place, thinking that she was about to walk into not his office, but rather an iron maiden. Oh me, oh my.

This train of thought kept chugging until he finally stopped and assured her that doing a good job meant that living was still on the table. Oh. That's grand?

Talk about high-pressure jobs.

What's behind mystery door number one? The blandest office in the entire galaxy. It gave away absolutely nothing. There was no décor to hint at an ominous and villainous man, which in itself was an omen, after all who could know what was in Lord Carach's head when there were no clues to him whatsoever. Perhaps he didn't want anybody to know. We've got to dig deeper.

“My Lord,” Leena started, eyes scanning out for a trash can for her empty cup of facemelter, “are there any queries you have? Any issues with settling in so far that I can aid you with? I know these lodgings are only temporary but I can have these chambers decorated if it pleases you.”

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Leena Mai"]

Already trying to figure him out, lass? You will have a hard time doing that.

Carach found his way to the other side of the table and sat himself down, studying his latest subject without any emotions showing on his face, eyes or anything else. Just crude calculation. There were things to do, problems to solve immediately. Becoming the Voice was only the first step in many, and information was needed to go further, knowledge… was power.

‘Decorations are irrelevant, at least for now. I have been elevated to the Dark Lord’s voice and yet I have a distinct lack in understanding, considering the world I just jumped into. You are going to get me answers, Mei. That’s going to be your first trial. I need to know the players of the game, the different Voices and the Hands the Dark Lord has empowered. What are their relationships between each other, why did they bend their knee towards the Dark One. What kind of defenses to they have, what are their powers. These are things we have to know, if we want to survive. Knowledge is power, my dear, and today we will set the first step to it. Kill, lie, sleep with the clerk. I don’t care how you do it, as long as you do it. Do we understood each other?’

 

[Leena Mai]

Decorations may have been irrelevant, but at least it wasn't something that she would perish doing.

Leena's brilliant blues settled upon the table as she listened to the task being assigned to her. Was she an assistant or an assassin? By boiling the face of that Apprentice had she came across as a figure of danger and intrigue? No, no, she wanted to protest, 'My Lord, I have an art degree, this is too deep. May I fetch you some caff instead?' however no such protest escaped her lips, at least not yet.

“I....” she began, very obviously hesitant, “...understand.”

The idea of sleeping with Tsavong's clerk was somewhat horrifying, never mind killing them. However Leena wasn't just going to find herself assuming the form of doormat as her orders were given. She understood that knowledge was power but still, this was a lot to ask.

“Information, of course, is vital and I can get you what you need to know, but My Lord. I am but one woman, one ordinary woman,” she started, albeit rather nervously, “Killing? Even lying? I don't mean to come across as incompetent, but, there are Sith that walk these halls that could sniff out my intentions with a mere look, that could crush my mind with a snap of their fingers.”

Leena frowned, the idea of having her mind razed was not one that filled her with warm fuzzy feelings.

“If truth be told, the prospect frightens me, My Lord but if it is information that you require, I will strive to retrieve it."

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Leena Mai"]

It was understandable that the woman had some difficulty with coming to terms with the new change in scenery and duties. Most folks would probably have tried to ragequit right about now, refuse to do what was asked from them and the end of it. Not this one though, this one understood the situation she was in, can’t just decline a Sith Lord, especially not such as Lord Carach.

Even without speaking to him for more than a moment or two, she already instinctively understood something about him. That underneath his calm and courteous mannerism, and behind his bookcased office… something else lied there. Something that ain’t necessarily better than the Zambrano Tyrant and his permakill +2 sword.

His tone changed, shifted to a slightly different tone, almost as if the Lord was reminiscing on other, better times. ‘We all begin differently, my dear. It’s the task of our Masters to mold us into the form that is necessary, have heart… your position under me will… protect you to a certain degree.’

After finishing that sentence Carach studied her for a moment and then waved with his hand. ‘You know your task. It’s time you start working on it, report back to me when it’s done, Lady Mai.’

Of course, murder and lying weren't the preferred options. Mai had complete freedom in how she wished to tackle this assignment, Carach only gave suggestions; it would be up to her to actually solve the problem.

 

[Leena Mai]

She frowned.

Moulded? She was a clerical assistant, Leena was almost certain that her contract held nothing about moulding and/or sculpting, did she look like a Sith Apprentice? No, she was but a woman, no sexy deadly secretary with a holdout in her stocking and an atrocious amount of catsuits.

I bloody well hope so, she thought, regarding his statement about protection, after all, was any job worth dying for? I don't think so.

“Very well, My Lord,” she said with curt nod. There would be no bowing, not unless he requested it. She was no vigilant medieval servant. There was a spine within her still, it was not broken quite yet, thus she would not snivel so. “I shall be understandably occupied during this venture, but if you need me do not hesitate to call,” Mai said, retrieving a piece of flimsiplast with her contact details from her bag and laying it upon the table.

A few years of playing the assistant role had turned the ringtone of her communicator into a flash-back inducing hell-song but a good aide is always available.

Turning upon her heel, and still holding the empty stimcaf cup Leena promptly left the chamber, a sense of worry weighing her heart down. There would be no aforementioned drinks with the girls tonight, her quest for information would likely be taking up much of her time.

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Leena Mai"]

As you might already have noticed, Carach wasn’t the usual Sith Lord. Though he might look more like a feudal-style Lord with a cape and a Castle in his pocket, there was a hint of modernism streaming through his veins. This modernism allowed him to feel nonchalant about bowing or non-bowing servants, as long as they were respectful… it didn’t really matter to the Sith.

Just as she was stepping through the door his voice would call her back again, to hear what he had to say. ‘Oh yes, when you finish your work and come back to report, bring me a cup of tea. Has to be brewed at exactly 212 degrees fahrenheit, served with a single sugar cube of approximately half a centimeter in diameter, and two cookies. Sweet-sand cookies to be precise and it has to be tarine tea.’

This all was brought with an emotionless, apathetic expression perched on his face, which made it hard to distinguish if the Sith Lord was being serious or playing a joke.

While Mei had to process that the man’s gaze glanced off her and returned to the table, where a piece of paper rested on top of it. A piece of paper with some kind of schematics drawn up, of a… Ship? A big one for that matter.

Huh, how peculiar.

 

[Leena Mai]

Leena didn't sleep.

How could she? The task set before her was no simple case of keeping track of schedules and dossing about while chatting poodoo with the girls on the comm. No, this was serious Sith business. I mean, if Leena failed then she had already karked up by knowing too much and likely wouldn't leave the Temple with her heart still beating.

She hadn't actually left the temple, taking advantage of the disorganisation left by the destruction of the Imperial Palace. Miss Mai, when put to the task could be one heck of a work bantha. There were two datapads before her upon the desk in the temporary archive, that and a very large cup of hot chocolate (she wasn't actually a fan of hot caffeinated beverages).

One datapad was for personal use, and it held notes and very sassy comments about former and current employers. Information about who they were, what they were about and if they were complete tossers or not. It also held other vital information, such as a very personal and very secretive diary. Also a tab under drinks, the latest entry being:

Tarine tea. 212 degrees Fahrenheit, 1 cube of sugar, half centimetre in diameter. Two sweet-sand cookies.

The other datapad was for compiling the information that the Lord required. Of course, where she would begin was the information that one could acquire through copious amounts of reading. Voices were public figures and thus there was information already available, she would work upon that first before sneaking into more private files (which of course, was easier to do when you had access to the actual consoles inside the Sith Temple)

With dark circles developing under her eyes, Leena read onward.

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Leena Mai"]

While his assistant was slaving over the assignment he had given her, Carach himself was doing some important business too, don’t look so surprised in contrast to other men Carach still remembered what it was to be a lowly thug in a beaten-up organization.

Work was what had made him ascend to the position he held today, and it made him proud of his achievements, which was why he never really minded doing some good hard work.

These schematics were proving to be pretty useful, it detailed the finer details on how to construct the engines of the flagship he was planning on constructing.

Truth to be told Carach wasn’t much of an engineer, he had people for that, but he knew enough when he saw something excellent.

This design would be able to make the flagship go faster, in contrast to the size it was, bigger and yet… relatively fast..

Achieving this by using light, durable materials and a custom engine, based of the experimental Roche Engine which Sienar Fleet systems had used to create the Dzu’ari. Which coincidentally was still his to command.

 

[Leena Mai]

When the river of information that could be acquired through savoury means ran dry it meant that Leena had to take a new avenue. A less legal avenue, an avenue that if not strolled down correctly could mean nothing but trouble for the young clerical assistant. Maybe even certain death.

So she at least slept before pursuing this endeavour.

With a grande tea in hand, Leena strolled back into the Sith Temple as if she meant business, being sure that she was not going to tap any strange men on the back, lest she had to return to the caff shop to buy a new drink. No, she would not waste five credits on the face of another Sith Apprentice. No, it was time to be stingy.

For Miss Mai had made a rather grand purchase.

In her handbag there was nestled a computer spike, a rather expensive computer spike. Not the most expensive, mind you, she was no auctioneer Sith Lord with an immense fortune to spend. The Plan X MicroThurst computer spike had cost her a slice over four thousand credits. Nothing for her to sniff at, but given that her skills in slicing were hardly pro...or even average, the leverage was definitely needed.

She made her way with clipped steps towards the archives, where there lurked a veritable gaggle of computer terminals. Granted that nobody stood very close to her then they wouldn't know what she was doing. Hopefully her reputation for scalding Sith Apprentices would ensure that she was left alone to slice.

Hopefully.

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Leena Mai"]

Meanwhile… at the Voice’s Office.

Nobody ever dared to assume that the life of a Voice was a simple matter, there were many responsibilities and duties and tasks and… well you know where I am going with this, most of the times all these responsibilities bottled up and started dragging down the Sith Lord in question, all cumultating into a variety of outcomes. Most… well… almost all of them weren’t too pretty, involving either mass murder, genocide, mass arson, grand theft auto or a bloody, hot and angry make-out session with your PA during office hours.

Whatever to let off some steam, am I right?

That was the idea at least, Leena still hadn’t really proven herself, though I suppose she wasn’t that long busy anyway. So can’t really blame her for that, anyway… we would have to wait with such shenanigans until she had shown she could handle this life.

In the meanwhile I was still busy with the outlines of these designs, the scientist had done very good work, even with the size of the ship it would go relatively faster. But these things had already been discussed, what hadn’t been discussed were the weapons systems which weren’t going to be cut, to accommodate the engines.

That had caused a stir in the minds of the engineers, I can tell ya, but with some rewrites and resizing in the hull and the use of some new material… it should work fine.

I say should, because it could also blow up the ship the first time we start it up.

Hmm… we might just have to go back to the drawing board for that part…

 

[Leena Mai]

So her grand task was continued.

Eyes sifting through information both useful and utterly useless. It was just a matter of copying that which Lord Carach desired. Cutting the crap, knowing what he desired and insuring that said information was not padded by fruitless materials that would offer nothing towards his quest for knowledge. His game to stay at the forefront of Sith politics.

This research took hours. The sheer density of files within the system screamed for a clean-up but alas that was not her job and so this archive was to remain a hive of chaos and disorder.

Eventually, one man, a Knight judging by his tone and posture finally decided to inquire what this woman was doing in the archives, and what it was that was taking her so long. He came up behind her, almost silently before tapping her upon the shoulder three times with a single digit. This of course, startled her, and caused the personal assistant to spin around upon the spot, (thankfully empty) cup in her grip.

“May I inquire into what you are doing, Miss?”

“Updating the database,” she replied, almost as if it were rehearsed (mostly because it was) as if a Sith would even know what that lowly clerical term even meant. There was a certain shade of relief in her eyes as Ewok kidneys had yet to be mentioned in this so far short conversation.

The Sith smirked (as Sith were want to do), “Oh my, you're that girl that scalded Salamonus, aren't you?” A sheepish nod from Mai sent yellowing eyes flashing somewhat mischievously. “He's been calling for your blood, you know.”

Well, that's grand. Thankfully Leena had oh-so-anally prepared for this moment. For hundreds of different scenarios in which she might be caught or figured out.

“Perhaps you should not wander this temple alone,” he said, very blatantly leering at her and it was in that moment she realised what this Sith was.

Presenting to you, Leena Mai's Guide to Sith Archetypes:

No. 4, The Smooth Seducer

These Sith, always male are creatures that often hold a dignified presence. They thirst for knowledge, shy away from combat and aggressive displays of emotion and can always be found swirling some variety of vintage swill in their brandy glasses.

They are lady-killers in both senses of the word, however there are indeed two kinds of Sith Seducers. Those who can, and those who can't. Those who can of course, pull of the debonair charm with so much grace and flair that you can simultaneously hear panties flock to the floor when they enter the room.

Those who can't, come off as rapists and paedophiles.

So in that moment where the Knight reached out with a chilly pallid hand to caress Leena's face she knew in that moment, that he was definitely the latter type.

“I think I can manage, but thank you for the offer,” she responded curtly with a polite and professional smile.

Didn't go down too well judging by the scowl that crept upon the creepster's face, it actively caused Leena's heart-rate to rise somewhat as his attempted gentle caress turned into a digging of nails into her cheek. Rude. Also, strangely girly.

“You misunderstand, girl. Wh-”

“No, you misunderstand. You are actively disrupting a task set to me personally by Lord Carach. I do not believe he would be terribly impressed that you were propositioning his assistant while she was on the job, his job, wouldn't you think?”

There was silence. Was she going to die right here and now?

“Very well,” the Knight replied abruptly, swiftly moving his hand away leaving four reddened nail marks upon the assistant's face and with that he sulked off, likely devising his own revenge strategy after being spoken to like that by a mere mortal.

You'll have to wait your turn, she thought dryly, heart going a million miles an hour within her chest, Salamonus is first in line.

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

A new order was given to the engineers at SIenar, it probably would be better if the engines didn’t have a chance of critical proportions to explode every time you launch them, the problem was the antimatter which was fueling them. Most of the times when you were fueling a smaller ship… it wasn’t much of a problem, oh it was still volatile as feth but you could coop with that by not putting too much pressure on the systems.

….No such luck with a 4000 meter warship packed to the brink with guns and guns and… well… guns. So something else had to be found, some other form of engines which wouldn’t be as prone to explode with the right (or wrong, depending on your perspective) amount of pressure.

Little did I know that the solution to my problems were right under my nose, well… not literally of course, but there was a single ship in the Fringe Fleet which was even bigger than what I was trying to big today… and it was fine. It didn’t blow up all the time, but I was too busy discussing possibilities with the Sienar Engineers via a holocall to make note of that.

But it would probably come back to me in a few.

[member="Leena Mai"]