Goddess
“I’ll give each of you one of these, if you promise to leave me and my stuff alone for the whole time we’re here,” Ishani said, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the rumble of the shuttle as it breached the atmosphere.
The two acolytes sitting across the aisle from her each glanced at the small rectangular black box Ishani held in her hand. “And just what is in the box?”
“Alchemized perfume samples.” At their snickering reaction, she pursed her lips, but stubbornly forged on with the pitch. “Five different ones, each with its own effects. One of them can increase your ability to use the Force, another can make you more persuasive, and—”
“That’s nothing a good amulet can’t do,” one of them interrupted. “Or just, y’know. Using the Force.”
“Really Sibwarra, you’ve got to stop doing this on every trip,” the other said, smirking. “Nobody wants your bottled pheromones."
Ishani bit her tongue. She wanted to snap back that it was definitely more than fething pheromones, and she hadn’t been doing this on “every trip”, just the last couple ones. She hadn’t made anything worthwhile before then. While everyone else and their mother was forging weapons and armor and cool gadgets, she had tried to combine her hobby with the alchemy curriculum. She had tried to do something different. But doing something different didn't mean she earned any favors.
While the two acolytes ignored her and went back to chattering amongst themselves, Ishani put her sample box away and sank down in her seat, putting a pair of sunglasses on in an effort to hide her eyes and look cool simultaneously. But since they were still inside, it probably just made her look like an idiot. She snatched the shades off and threw them back in her bag, fidgeting impatiently. The shuttle had no windows to look out of, so she couldn’t tell whether they were close to landing or not—
The shuttle came to a jarring stop. Yelps and groans sounded from the passengers as they were jostled. Ishani’s ears popped as the door was thrown open, abruptly changing the cabin pressure. At the front of the cabin, she saw the figure of Darth Neferu (or “Ms. Nef” as some of the more daring acolytes called her, though never within the Sith Lady’s earshot) rising from her chair and raising a hand to silence them.
“Everybody out,” she commanded. “Now.”
Dozens of safety harness buckles clicked. Bags were grabbed and footsteps echoed down the aisles as the students scrambled out of the cramped shuttle. Clutching her bag to her chest, Ishani hesitated, waiting for an opening so that she could enter and ride the current, but nobody stopped to let her in. She wound up being the last person out.
At last she stood on soft grass instead of a durasteel walkway, squinting against the brightness of the noon sun. To prevent anyone from planning ahead, none of the acolytes had been told what planet they were being dropped off on, only that it was remote and dangerous. Ishani had heard rumors that it had been used as a testing ground for Sith experiments decades earlier, and the woods were now populated by mutant monsters. Knowing the Sith, it was probably true, and some of them were about to die a very unpleasant death. Herself probably included, given her track record.
She fished around for her sunglasses now that she actually needed them, but of course they had mysteriously disappeared amid the junk at the bottom of her bag. Neferu was already addressing the group, running through the usual objective ("Survive.") and rules ("Do whatever is necessary."). Dressed in full body armor and glaring at them, the Sith Lady made it clear with every syllable she uttered how much contempt she had for every single one of them. The only people in the galaxy she loathed more were her superiors, the ones responsible for putting her in this position. They had forced her to babysit a bunch of disgusting, pathetic teenagers and obnoxious, hormone-addled young adults when she could be out on a battlefield somewhere slaughtering vermin and bathing in the Dark Side. Personally, Ishani thought Darth Neferu was kind of mean, but not quite as bad as some of the camp counselors she'd dealt with at summer camp as a child.
“The last time you were tested, one of you killed her peer,” she sneered. “I’m sure you know what happened to her. The Worm Emperor’s children are few in number. Despite the traditions of the Sith affording that only the strongest may survive, we can’t afford to have our students openly murdering each other during training. Make no mistake, we will be watching all of you. If anyone raises their hand against a fellow acolyte, they will die.” But everything else, be it stealing, threatening, extortion, manipulation, cheating, or sacrificing your fellow acolytes to the hungry gods of nature and/or the Dark, was free game. Ishani hadn't had to deal with much more than thieves pilfering the contents of her pack, but she had... heard things. Bad things. Things which she actively sought to avoid with her offers of alchemized gifts, dreading such possibilities more than anything else she might encounter in the wilderness.
Neferu gestured toward a pile of food, medicine, water purifiers, inflatable tents, waterproof bedding, and various other gadgets laid out on a tarp. “This time, you have been provided with a limited number of items. First come, first serve. Dismissed.”
Ishani was nearly trampled in the ensuing stampede. She hung back, not wanting to get hurt, but she knew that if she didn’t, there would be nothing left. Sucking in a deep breath as though she were about to dive underwater, she rushed forward, reaching out with one hand until her fingers closed around the edge of a plastic bag. She grabbed it—but someone else pulled it in the opposite direction. The bag tore open, spilling its contents onto the ground. Just as well, since Ishani lost her footing and fell over. She fumbled around in the dirt, her fingers closing around what felt like a bottle of some kind, and snatched her hand away just before a boot landed where her hand had been. Scrambling backwards, she put considerable distance between herself and the orgy of greed and desperation.
She found her feet again and stood up, looking down at the bottle in her hand. Energy pills. She nearly killed herself putting her hand into a pile of supplies, and all she got for it was a bottle of energy pills. She already had energy pills, packed away in her bag. So did most of the other acolytes, probably—which meant they were pretty much useless even as a trade item.
Annoyed, she would have thrown the bottle in disgust—had it not shattered in her palm first. She shrieked, jerking her hand back and letting the jagged shards and pills fall to the ground. It wasn’t as if she had closed her fist around it and squeezed. The bottle had cracked spontaneously, as though crushed by an invisible force. Her Force, she knew, but unintentionally.
She wiped frantically at her sweating palms, afraid tiny pieces would embed themselves there, only to whirl around startled as she heard the engines of the shuttle fire up. Neferu and the crew were leaving. Everyone else was gone. Ishani was alone.
The two acolytes sitting across the aisle from her each glanced at the small rectangular black box Ishani held in her hand. “And just what is in the box?”
“Alchemized perfume samples.” At their snickering reaction, she pursed her lips, but stubbornly forged on with the pitch. “Five different ones, each with its own effects. One of them can increase your ability to use the Force, another can make you more persuasive, and—”
“That’s nothing a good amulet can’t do,” one of them interrupted. “Or just, y’know. Using the Force.”
“Really Sibwarra, you’ve got to stop doing this on every trip,” the other said, smirking. “Nobody wants your bottled pheromones."
Ishani bit her tongue. She wanted to snap back that it was definitely more than fething pheromones, and she hadn’t been doing this on “every trip”, just the last couple ones. She hadn’t made anything worthwhile before then. While everyone else and their mother was forging weapons and armor and cool gadgets, she had tried to combine her hobby with the alchemy curriculum. She had tried to do something different. But doing something different didn't mean she earned any favors.
While the two acolytes ignored her and went back to chattering amongst themselves, Ishani put her sample box away and sank down in her seat, putting a pair of sunglasses on in an effort to hide her eyes and look cool simultaneously. But since they were still inside, it probably just made her look like an idiot. She snatched the shades off and threw them back in her bag, fidgeting impatiently. The shuttle had no windows to look out of, so she couldn’t tell whether they were close to landing or not—
The shuttle came to a jarring stop. Yelps and groans sounded from the passengers as they were jostled. Ishani’s ears popped as the door was thrown open, abruptly changing the cabin pressure. At the front of the cabin, she saw the figure of Darth Neferu (or “Ms. Nef” as some of the more daring acolytes called her, though never within the Sith Lady’s earshot) rising from her chair and raising a hand to silence them.
“Everybody out,” she commanded. “Now.”
Dozens of safety harness buckles clicked. Bags were grabbed and footsteps echoed down the aisles as the students scrambled out of the cramped shuttle. Clutching her bag to her chest, Ishani hesitated, waiting for an opening so that she could enter and ride the current, but nobody stopped to let her in. She wound up being the last person out.
At last she stood on soft grass instead of a durasteel walkway, squinting against the brightness of the noon sun. To prevent anyone from planning ahead, none of the acolytes had been told what planet they were being dropped off on, only that it was remote and dangerous. Ishani had heard rumors that it had been used as a testing ground for Sith experiments decades earlier, and the woods were now populated by mutant monsters. Knowing the Sith, it was probably true, and some of them were about to die a very unpleasant death. Herself probably included, given her track record.
She fished around for her sunglasses now that she actually needed them, but of course they had mysteriously disappeared amid the junk at the bottom of her bag. Neferu was already addressing the group, running through the usual objective ("Survive.") and rules ("Do whatever is necessary."). Dressed in full body armor and glaring at them, the Sith Lady made it clear with every syllable she uttered how much contempt she had for every single one of them. The only people in the galaxy she loathed more were her superiors, the ones responsible for putting her in this position. They had forced her to babysit a bunch of disgusting, pathetic teenagers and obnoxious, hormone-addled young adults when she could be out on a battlefield somewhere slaughtering vermin and bathing in the Dark Side. Personally, Ishani thought Darth Neferu was kind of mean, but not quite as bad as some of the camp counselors she'd dealt with at summer camp as a child.
“The last time you were tested, one of you killed her peer,” she sneered. “I’m sure you know what happened to her. The Worm Emperor’s children are few in number. Despite the traditions of the Sith affording that only the strongest may survive, we can’t afford to have our students openly murdering each other during training. Make no mistake, we will be watching all of you. If anyone raises their hand against a fellow acolyte, they will die.” But everything else, be it stealing, threatening, extortion, manipulation, cheating, or sacrificing your fellow acolytes to the hungry gods of nature and/or the Dark, was free game. Ishani hadn't had to deal with much more than thieves pilfering the contents of her pack, but she had... heard things. Bad things. Things which she actively sought to avoid with her offers of alchemized gifts, dreading such possibilities more than anything else she might encounter in the wilderness.
Neferu gestured toward a pile of food, medicine, water purifiers, inflatable tents, waterproof bedding, and various other gadgets laid out on a tarp. “This time, you have been provided with a limited number of items. First come, first serve. Dismissed.”
Ishani was nearly trampled in the ensuing stampede. She hung back, not wanting to get hurt, but she knew that if she didn’t, there would be nothing left. Sucking in a deep breath as though she were about to dive underwater, she rushed forward, reaching out with one hand until her fingers closed around the edge of a plastic bag. She grabbed it—but someone else pulled it in the opposite direction. The bag tore open, spilling its contents onto the ground. Just as well, since Ishani lost her footing and fell over. She fumbled around in the dirt, her fingers closing around what felt like a bottle of some kind, and snatched her hand away just before a boot landed where her hand had been. Scrambling backwards, she put considerable distance between herself and the orgy of greed and desperation.
She found her feet again and stood up, looking down at the bottle in her hand. Energy pills. She nearly killed herself putting her hand into a pile of supplies, and all she got for it was a bottle of energy pills. She already had energy pills, packed away in her bag. So did most of the other acolytes, probably—which meant they were pretty much useless even as a trade item.
Annoyed, she would have thrown the bottle in disgust—had it not shattered in her palm first. She shrieked, jerking her hand back and letting the jagged shards and pills fall to the ground. It wasn’t as if she had closed her fist around it and squeezed. The bottle had cracked spontaneously, as though crushed by an invisible force. Her Force, she knew, but unintentionally.
She wiped frantically at her sweating palms, afraid tiny pieces would embed themselves there, only to whirl around startled as she heard the engines of the shuttle fire up. Neferu and the crew were leaving. Everyone else was gone. Ishani was alone.
