One Minute After Midnight

[Vrak Nashar]

Zygerria
[member="Irid"]

There were few worlds in the galaxy that Vrak actually enjoyed visiting, fewer still that enjoyed his visits. Zygerria however was one of those worlds. This place was more than welcoming to his kind, more than friendly. They knew what the Sith had once done for them, they knew what benefit a patron like him could mean. Thus when he came to this place he was treated almost as well as royalty. The guards bowed before him, the people in the streets gave way when he wandered. It was a beautiful thing, almost like being back home. He felt oddly...relaxed in this place.

"My lord."

A man beckoned to him.

One of the guards, a Zygerrian.

Vrak frowned for half a second, hands unclasping from behind his back as he motioned for the soldier to come over. The man nodded and then quickly wandered towards the Pureblood, his eyes staying low. It was a sign of respect among these people, not meeting ones gaze. It was a quality that many people around the galaxy lacked, but once again it was offered to him here on Zygerria.

"The slave pits are this way My Lord, her Majesty mention you would like to view them."

"Indeed." Vrak said with a nod, beckoning for the man to lead him forward.

Slavery was not uncommon back on Athiss, though the nature of most servants was vastly different than one might expect. Most slaves upon Athiss were actually Massassi, the warriors bread to fight wars for the Purebloods. There were House Servants of course, and slaves to plow and sow the fields, but most of them were simple humans that had been taken from one world or another. Zygerria, well Zygerria was more specialized in a way. They had all different sorts, certain slaves trained for combat, farm work, even mines. It was what made coming here worthwhile.

Vrak slowly maneuvered behind the guard, his lightsaber sitting at his hip, his eyes wandering over the sights. He wondered briefly about this place, for how much longer it would survive. Eventually the guard lead him to a...less ornate section of the city. A massive estate like structure that wound up and out, the two ending up on a large balcony overlooking a large field. Within the field were dozens, if not hundreds of chained men and women. Some appeared to be huddled beneath half built shacks, others seemed to have just returned from working the mines.

"Excellent." He told the Guard. "You may leave me for now."

His hand waved the Guard away. He would be perfectly safe here on the Balcony, and he wanted to watch the slaves in silence, gauge them for himself without the interference of their masters.

 

[Irid]

Work was done for another day.

Back to the camps for meagre scraps of food and rest. It was all they could afford to do with the time given. Hardened hands gave way to callouses and blisters. Sweat lurked atop brows and skin was sallow and sunken in with nothing but hard labour. This was the life they knew. This was who they were.

2003418 had never questioned this. Not until recent times, not until Viyers had arrived.

He was strange, different. Words that he said carried a different weight with them. Others had come too, bundled with hope and strange notions of a freedom in the future but when Viyers spoke about it, it seemed odd. As if there were truth to his words.

It was...a conflicting idea.

The man's stories of the galaxy were often wonderful. It gave cause for widened eyes around their camp, or shanty-town as it were. Exotic worlds that seemed a work of fiction more than anything else. Frigid planets covered by blankets of snow and ice all year round, blistering desert worlds with grand canyons, sculpted by wind and time itself. Jungles, with trees that stood so impossibly high that it surely couldn't have been real. So far away from dark, suffocating pits.

She wanted to see it all.

But in that same breath such dreams were disobedience. Just thinking about freedom and exploration felt like it was wrong, as if she should have been punished for such wishes. Half of her wanted to confess to the Masters. The other half gripped tight the secret as if it were the most important thing in the world.

They huddled together, having been given their ration packs after work was done for another day. Mostly while they ate, they just listened to Viyers speak, they were glad to. The man always seemed to find energy beyond what they could muster, never too tired to offer relief in the form of conversation.

He was different, she could tell.

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

He watched in silence.

Vrak had often found that people on Zygerria talked too much. They were either far too interested in hearing their own voice, or unwilling to stop talking for fear of sounding ignorant. It was an annoying folly, and one that even the Queen seemed to succumb to. The night before had been filled with conversations about how well trained her slaves were, how wonderfully obedient they all had come to be. The woman hadn't shut up until her husband appeared, just about the only man that Vrak could stand on this entire world.

The Queen's consort was a rough man, not a noble like the others. He had been low born, but had carved out a presence for himself within Zygerrian society through sheer brutality. He was not a kind man, but quick and decisive, the kind of man even Vrak could admire. Had he been a Force User Vrak would have invited him back to Athiss long ago, but instead the two of them had formed a fast friendship, something that was rather rare for a Pureblood like him. He could sense the Queen's Consort approach behind him, the ornate clothes he wore rattling slightly as he stepped up besides Vrak. A few of the slaves in the pits saw him, fear instantly entering their gaze.

"Disgusting creatures."

The man besides him said as he looked down into the pits.

Vrak couldn't help but let a hint of a smile touch his lips, his gaze never falling away from the people below. The Queen's Consort had made his money, quite literally, on the backs of men and women just like these. Slavery had been the method he had used to raise himself up within Zygerrian Society, becoming one of the most pervasive and cruel slavers on a world filled with them. An impressive fact really by any accord, it was why Vrak enjoyed the man so. "Perhaps."

The Pureblood said as his gaze wandered.

"Yet they have their uses." He spotted one group in particular, huddled together right at the edge. They seemed to be listening to one particular man speaking. "The last one I took from you has proven quite successful."

 

[Irid]

For some, the idea of their rations was a rather grim prospect. It was bland food to eat, only providing the nutrients that were required for a body to function. Most citizens of the galaxy would have shunned it, but for them it was an utter delicacy. Food meant relief. It meant a break. It meant you were still alive.

“...so dense that even during the day it can be dark...”

Irid faded in-and-out of the conversation, as Viyers described another far-off world. A moon, with strange little bear-like creatures that wielded spears. He was always so animated when he described these things, a strange kindness held in his eyes as he spoke. The man even did what she could have only assumed to be terrible impression of said creatures, Ewoks.

For how juvenile the humour was, laughter was a precious commodity and stifled sniggering erupted at the ridiculous noise the man made.

She did not laugh, however. Something in the air felt off, the slave had no idea what it was...but it didn't feel right. Slowly, Irid looked around, at all the faces of their camp, at Viyers before finally looking upwards to the balcony.

It was there she saw him. A man with crimson skin. Unaware of his species, she was found staring. Something was wrong. It wasn't like they had been surveyed before. Who was he? What was he? Why did...

“Irid.”

Viyers had caught wind of her distraction, and was now also staring upwards at the strange being. He was no longer smiling. The jovial marks of laughter upon his weathered face remained, but he wore a frown.

“Go inside.”

It wasn't like him to be so curt. The slave turned to look at Viyers, features confused by his request. Why go inside? She wanted to ask him, but in the same breath perhaps it was best not to know. It sat on the tip of her tongue, threatening to escape. Who is that?

“Please.”

She shifted, getting up from off the ground and moving towards their hut.

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

The edge of his lip twerked up in the slightest of smiles. It was small, a tiny thing really, but it was there. Perhaps he should have caught it sooner, perhaps he should have soon her, but he was too amused to actually question it now. His fingers slowly latched around the edge of the balcony, pads drumming gently against the underside of the railing. Slowly his gaze drifted from the small girl who went inside the hut to the man that had sent her there.

Amusement played across his features.

"Has he?"

The consort continued with their earlier conversation, unaware of Vrak's discovery. The man wasn't force sensitive, so he wouldn't know, and he wasn't quite observant enough to notice the change in Vrak's demeanor. The Pureblood couldn't really fault him for it, and in truth it was probably a good thing. Vrak smiled slightly and then innocent continued to speak, his eyes latched onto the man that was now staring up at him with a look of pure defiant.

"Indeed, old friend." Vrak said with the same smile, his gaze never moving. "He now runs errands for me on Bastion, living better than some of your lesser nobles I suspect."

Amusement filled his tone. "He knows who raised him up."

That was the thing with slavery. One could be contained, beaten, and broken, but true it wasn't a real way to keep someone in chains. No, the only real method was to break their minds, not forcefully, but willingly. Once someone tied themselves to you willingly, once they gave themselves to you with full heart and intent, then there was no breaking the chain, no freedom. Vrak knew that, and over the years he had perfected this art.

He did not offer death, he offered opportunity, to all of his servants.

"That one." Vrak pointed to the defiant man. "Bring him to me, along with the girl he tried to hide."

The Pureblood smiled, then turned away.

 

[Irid]

There was a moment, one where the young woman sat upon her bunk and tried to consider what had just happened. She had never seen Viyers like that before. He was always so genial and composed. Something had shaken him. Or rather, someone.

Before Irid could even consider it any further a guard strode into the hut. Pointing at her with an authority that instinctively made her gaze cast downwards.

“You. With me. Now.”

There was no question asked. 2003418 was obedient, she did as she was told. However, while no words were said out loud, there was a frightened curiosity within her. What was happening? Why her? Was it that red-skinned man? She didn't understand. All she did was comply.

Together with Viyers they were escorted from the camp, a deathly silence falling as the rest of the slaves pitched their own stares to the floor.

He looked to her, tried to give her a smile, but even she could see that it was strained. It was fearful.

“Don't be-”

“Quiet!” One of the two guards snapped, giving Viyers a hard shove in the back for good measure. It still didn't stop him.

“-scared.”

It warranted a hard gauntlet to the back of his head, the fellow slave not even being given the time to stumble as he was pushed onwards to the chamber. Much like his smile, his words did nothing to appease or reassure her.

I haven't done anything wrong.

Once they had arrived the pair were shoved forcefully down onto their knees. 2003418 chose to stare submissively at the floor, not daring to risk a glance at the Masters. Viyers on the other hand kept his head held high, a small act of defiance that she found to be incredibly foolish.

Please.

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

"I've always found Jedi to be somewhat foolish." Vrak said as he entered the room.

He didn't actually seem to pay any attention to the two slaves, rather he slowly began to wander towards one of the guards in the corner. The man stiffened slightly as the Pureblood approached him, his hand tightening at his side. Vrak smiled, then slowly turned away from him. "Leave us."

For a second the Guard looked at him.

"GO!" His voice boomed in the tiny room, and as though he had been branded by a hot iron the guard rushed out of the room, followed quickly by his two counterparts. Vrak watched them go for a moment, dissatisfaction playing across his features. He didn't like the Zygarrian guards. They were dis-trustworthy. Nearly anyone with enough money could buy them, and their tongues were loose even with a little bit of drink.

Having them around was like being recorded. For a second more he watched them tromp away, until finally the door closed behind them. He nodded, and then slowly shifted towards the two slaves. One looked towards the floor, the other gave him a defiant stare. Vrak smiled at the man.

"I met a woman once." He went on. "She was smart, powerful even, but so willing to sacrifice herself for others."

The Pureblood shook his head. "She allowed herself to get captured, to face certain death, just so she could save the lives of a few pilots."

Vrak made a tsk sound with his teeth, shaking his head as though he couldn't believe such foolishness. The idea of sacrificing oneself was incredibly idiotic to someone like him. Why would you toss away your life in order to save someone else? Why bother? Weren't you always the most valuable thing in the room? It was a mark of how a Pureblood thought, a mark of how his people had found their way to their current place in the galaxy.

 

[Irid]

Jedi.

She didn't know what that word meant. In the context it sounded like a species, like the funny little bear-people that Viyers had described before and her knowledge didn't extend outside the camp and his stories.

A flinch came from her when the crimson man bellowed at the guard. A cold prickle of fear causing the hairs upon the back of her neck to rise.

The other slave sat in direct contradiction to her. Kneeling but proud, undaunted and confident. To her it seemed like reckless bravado in the face of certain doom. Why didn't he just keep his head down? Why didn't he just submit? 2003418 didn't understand, but then again, he had always been so different.

The man spoke further, about a woman, about sacrifice. Things that weren't often considered in the mind of a slave. They did as they were told. Life was obedience. There was no such thing as sacrifice.

“Let me guess,” Viyers mused, smiling politely at the ominous creature, “you cannot wrap your head around such sacrifice. You do not understand why. I imagine that you never will.”

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

He smiled at the man. His voice was seethed with a sort of cool confidence, almost politeness. There was an unmistakable air of education to it, mixed with a certain smugness that could only be born of never having to worry about yourself. Vrak was familiar with that tone, the woman whom he had spoken of had talked the same way.

It was an odd thing really, how Jedi always seemed to remain so confident even in the face of certain defeat.

Vrak found the confidence almost endearing. He wondered if this was what all Jedi were like. He'd only met three of them in his lifetime, but all three had held this same air of superiority. It was funny really that Sith were considered so egotistical when their counterparts held the same quality. Perhaps it was because of their generally kind nature that people chose to ignore it, but in truth he had no idea. No matter what it was Vrak didn't really mind, he knew that he had won here.

"Indeed." The Pureblood said almost cheerfully.

He never really would understand.

"It's not a quality my people learn naturally." He took the lightsaber from the clip off of his belt. "Nor is it one that we teach."

Purebloods were the direct opposite of...well everything the Jedi stood for. There were Sith in this galaxy that were honorable, there were Sith in this galaxy that could even be described as good, no Pureblood was one of them. His kind were selfish, narcissistic, powerful, and incredibly proud. There was no room for others within the heart of a Pureblood. He had no idea if this man knew that, if this man had ever encountered his species, but he didn't care.

Vrak ignited his lightsaber, the blade springing to life with a loud snap-hiss that reverberated within the room.

 

[Irid]

The moment held was entirely between the two men.

It was almost as if they knew each other, but instead of by name it was by motive. Truthfully 2003418 felt somewhat lost in this conversation. She didn't understand the point. She didn't understand why she was here. What did this man want?

Then came that sound.

She had never heard anything like it before. The small chamber was tinted by a red and sinister light, one that came forth from that strange device in the man's hand. It stirred enough curiosity for Irid to steal a glance upwards for a moment. A low hum filled the air, reverberating from the device. What was that? It seemed like a sword, and it struck a sense of awe and fear within her at the same time.

Viyers still didn't same too phased, leaving more questions than answers.

“In the same breath, I don't understand what you will gain here,” the man replied slowly, keeping his brilliant green eyes fixed upon the crimson man's face.

“What do you achieve from killing two slaves? What power does that grant you? Does it make your stronger? No, it does not. I cannot fathom your motivations any more than you can fathom my own.”

The talk of the pair of them being killed sent her stare back down to the floor, eyes widened and frightened.

I didn't do anything wrong.

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

Vrak blinked. "I have no idea why you think your opinion even matters."

With that the lightsaber flicked forward and severed the mans head.

The action was so fast, so unsympathetic, and so sudden that it would probably take a moment for Irid to register that it had even happened. His lightsaber shut off immediately after, casting the room back into silence. There was a lull as the Jedi's head dropped against the floor, followed quickly by the muted thud of his corpse following after his skull. Vrak looked at the body for a few moments, a scowl forming on his lips as he tried to do away with a bit of the disgust he felt for the Jedi's nature.

"Simpleton." Vrak kicked his body to the side. "I wonder what lies he's told you."

His attention was now brought to the girl. "What poison he put inside your mind."

The lightsaber remained within his palm as he slowly stepped in front of Irid. His back straight, his gaze cast down onto her.

 

[Irid]

It happened so suddenly.

There was a woosh of the blade and then a soft thud against the floor. An immediate feeling of sickness swelled within her stomach, even before the girl knew what had just happened. True horror didn't set in until she caught a glance of Viyers' head in her peripheral vision.

So many emotions crashed through her mind all at once. Horror. Dismay. Agony. Rage. It was entirely too overwhelming and yet, still, she did not scream, she did not try to flee or fight either. No, obedience ran through her core stronger than any of these things. However, it was all very plain to see upon her face as she stared at her friend's head, large brown eyes filled with terror. This was what happened when you didn't submit. This was what happened when you were different. You were punished.

Hands trembled. Breath quickened. Chest heaving up and down, faster and ever faster.

Was he going to do the same to her?

Why?

Still, she didn't respond to the man. Obedience. A slave only talks back when they are given a question, and 2003418 feared any answer she might have had to give him.

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

He looked down at the slave for a moment. She was meek. Many of the slaves he got from this world were like that when he first retrieved them. He never knew how he felt about it really. There was a chance that they couldn't shake that conditioning, but on the other hand...well it was useful. He frowned for a moment and then slowly began to squat down in front of her. His gaze inspected her, slowly following the lines of her face as he tried to discern just what she was.

"What has he told you?" He asked simply.

It was a question she likely wouldn't want to answer. He knew that she would now fear him, after all he had just outright killed a man in front of her eyes, a man that had protected her. Whether or not she knew that Vrak couldn't guess, but it didn't matter.

"Did he say that he would free you? Teach you?" His tone was soft. "Did he feed you lies about what you could be?"

Vrak needed to know, he needed to know where he would have to start with this one.

 

[Irid]

It was a loaded question.

Viyers had told her a great many things, about a great many worlds. Surely this man would not have wanted her to tell him every great detail. Why would he have wanted to know? Why, was a word that surrounded her thoughts in that chamber. She still didn't understand.

Thankfully he elaborated further. It didn't clear anything up, but at least there was less of a chance of displeasing him. Lest her head was next to roll upon the ground.

“H-he...promised...”

Words were hard to form under the harsh press of negative emotion that radiated from her core. 2003418 had never been one to speak very often, never mind under the constraints of true fear.

Deep breath.

“...he p-promised that he would take us all away...and show us all...all the places he s-s-spoke about...and...and that he...he would t-teach me how to read and write...”

There was no more than that and there was absolutely zero chance that the slave was going to lie in this scenario. Did he feed you lies about what you could be? That was a question that puzzled her beyond belief. What she could be, she was a slave. She would always be a slave.

“....th-th....that's everything...”

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

Interesting, noble, and entirely believable.

Had he even known? He must have. The Jedi had tried to protect her in particular, not the others that had been in the little group. He had been concerned about Vrak seeing her, not the others. He must have known. A frown pulled at his lips for a brief few seconds. Perhaps he truly had intended to do all those things for this girl, perhaps he hadn't intended to take her to become what he had been, or perhaps he had lied. Vrak didn't know, and in truth he didn't care.

"Did he also tell you that he would make you a slave of another sort?" Vrak asked quietly.

The force bloomed around him for a moment, a small bit of power that trickled into him. He was sure of her strength, sure of the potential that she held. The Jedi must have seen it, he must have known as well as he that power she had. "That he would bind you to him?"

It was true in a way.

"Force you to serve his cause." The Jedi were notorious for their ways. They claimed it was for good of course, that they were doing good, but that was all really a matter of ones perspective. "I can offer you true freedom."

His words were slow. "You can have everything he spoke about. You can learn to read, you can see what he spoke of, you can be free."

 

[Irid]

There was a feeling of hurt that surged at the suggestions the man made about Viyers.

He had never come across as having a motive. The man had only ever seemed to be kind and genuine, his interests were based in theirs. He was a father figure of the camp, who ensured that everybody was as safe and as happy as they could be. Even to her it seemed like a lie that he would do the things this man suggested.

2003418 wouldn't have believed it on any day before this one.

However, it seemed like there were so many things that the slave did not know about her friend. Things that the crimson man knew. Did she really know who he was? Truthfully she knew nothing about him, just his promises that now lay dead alongside him.

Instead now, such words came from the mouth of his killer. A man who was actually in the position to offer such. What slave ever looked freedom in the face and said no?

No matter how sick and twisted it all seemed.

This time she asked a question on her own accord. Lifting her head slightly to look at the man's features with glassy tearful eyes.

“Why?”

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

A small, subtle smile touched Vrak's lips. It was a quesiton that he would have asked in this situation. Why indeed? Why would he kill the Jedi but spare her? Why would he even bother with a lowly little slave like her? Easy; potential.

Though Purebloods were of course the most powerful and most worthy of the darkside of the force, there were other creatures within the Galaxy that had it's touch. They were lesser beings. Twi'lek's, Trandoshans, and of course Humans. While they suffered from a lack of genetics, they could, if trained correctly, become more than avid in the use of the force. It was a tradition upon Athiss to take in strays, to train them to fight and kill for the Purebloods that ruled there.

Most of these strays came to Athiss as slaves.

They lived good lives, at least better ones than most. They held no true power on Athiss, but they could live in estates, do their work, and even own their own slaves. The more powerful in the force one was, the bigger their opportunity for advancement. Strength, however, was rare.

Rare enough that that Vrak would have killed a dozen of his normal servants for this one girl. He leaned down towards her, smile broadening. "Have you ever heard of The Force?"

 

[Irid]

His answer hardly satisfied any of her questions. In fact, it just created more.

It was an unfortunate side effect of being a slave for your entire life. You learned what you needed to and that was it. In the mines there was very little knowledge actually required. Mostly on a physical aspect. Safety, funnily enough. As inhuman as the practice of slavery was, they were commodity. So having them all get injured or killed under their own ineptitude was simply bad for business.

“N-no...”

He asked almost as if it was something she might have known. Thankfully 2003418 held no pride as a slave, so she wasn't wounded by her abject stupidity next to this man.

Although she couldn't push the thought away that this Force stood in relation with Viyers, that it was something he might have told her. If it was, why didn't he? Who was he really? The real truth of the matter would likely never come to light as his decapitated body lay still warm next to her.

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

"It is power." He said plainly. "Strength."

Oh how true that was.

"It is the ability to draw upon yourself, and become something more than you are." Perhaps he was being a bit poetic, but a truth clung to the words, a belief that he couldn't help but cling to. To a Pureblood the force was quite literally everything. Most, if not all, were born with the darkside in their veins. It sustained them, pressed into them and weened them as a loving mother might. To Purebloods, to Vrak, the force was more than an abject concept, it was life itself.

No Jedi could understand that.

"It is why I will give you your freedom." He paused. "It is why you will take your freedom."

The lightsaber rolled in his palm. It was a paltry trinket, nothing that mattered to him. He had no sympathy for tools. His fingers slowly flattened, and he offered the device to Irid. "You have the potential to take the life you want. You have power within you. Come with me, and I will teach you to seize it."

For his own purposes of course.

 

[Irid]

These words were foreign concepts.

Power. Strength. Freedom.

In her limited eduction, she at the very least knew what these words meant, but they also represented everything they lacked in their lives. Did she crave them? No. She had never been told to. So deep-seated was the notion planted within her mind that it felt wrong to even consider it.

How was she supposed to know any better? How does a person dispel what they've been told their entire lives?

It made the idea of her taking her own freedom something of a wild and guilty fantasy.

He offered the strange weapon to her, and for a few seconds she just sat, staring at it in his hand. She was more afraid to take it than he was to give it. He had just slain her friend before it, but obviously the crimson man held no worries that she might have ever retaliated.

She didn't take the weapon, instead her gaze returned to the floor.

“I c-can't. I am...I am not free. The Masters...”

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]