Private Understanding a Heretic

[Laertia Io]

Wearing: Hoodlum's Leathers

Armed with: De Lifte Crystal (Curved Hilt)

Invited to Naboo: Errik Jacen Nimdok

Escorting Nimdok: Isacc, a Model 1 Nuetralizer


14 hours earlier...

Haruun Kal


("Under My Skin" by Frank Sinatra Plays)


Isacc, a particularly crazy, murderous Skeletal Warbot had danced a slow dance with his girlfriend The Arena, a Shi'ido SithSpawn disguised as a beautiful Twi'lek woman with Orange skin, in a skintight white Catsuit in the middle of a dense jungle before the death had really started. Isacc had helped her capture a number of Maw Brotherhood members for ritual torture and sacrifice. Isacc, a de-limbing enthusiast, had taken a chainsaw to the arms and legs of the screaming Maw Dark Jedi captured, while The Arena kept them alive for the whole bloody, torturous process.

"Slower, Dreamboat...slower..." The Arena cackled in delight, flesh shuddering as she kept the victims alive with perverse magic, getting sprayed with blood and gore as the victims shrieked.

"They have to feel it..." she hissed.

"I'm getting some great audio-recordings out of this!" Isacc said enthusiastically, much more slathered in blood and gore than she was, due to being closer to the victims.

"Oh, you hold that chainsaw like you came factory ready with it!" She complimented adoringly.

"Is this the last of them?" Isacc asked through the horrible shrieks.

"All Twenty-007." The Arena confirmed, the victims kept alive and in constant agony. The magic was self sustaining now. The Arena's flesh stopped shuddering, resetting on the skeleton.

"Now we freeze them and bury them at key points, to focus the Dark Side. They'll still be alive while buried and frozen, but at this point, that's more their problem..." she chuckled cruelly.

"You're amazing, Sherbet!" Isacc gushed lovingly. "Every time I interact with you, my cruelty protocols get massive updates!"

"You hold the knife so steady while cutting the flesh I get jealous!" She gushed just as lovingly.

Isacc used his equipped Cryo-Laser to painfully freeze his screaming victim, who didn't stop screaming even as he was frozen solid, placing him next to the bloody bags full of still living Dark Jedi, and began to retrieve another from the bag to freeze him solid too.

A half hour later...

The murderous robo-skeleton and The Witch washed the blood and gore off themselves in the same small waterfall, in each others arms, Isacc's red photo-receptors recording every curvaceous feature of the beautiful, horribly evil Witch.

The Arena casually kissed his exposed, skeletal teeth.

"This is only our fourth date, and I'm having as much fun as I did on the first one, where we spent a half hour burning alive a Terentatek..."

"Oh Isacc, play its screams for me!" she snarled in lust.

Isacc's jaw dropped open a bit as he played back the recording of the beasts screams.

The Arena snarled in lust again and was about to tackle him to the ground when the comlink Isacc had beeped.

"Hold, my sweet Sherbet. Gotta take this..." Isacc said, examining the link.

It was a relay from the ship he had come in on, an Upsilon Shuttle .

YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUESTED AT ONCE.

"Aw, dammit!" Isacc complained.

"What is it, Dreamboat?" The Arena asked.

"Mom called...gotta see what she wants..." Isacc answered.

"You're such a dutiful son..." The Arena complimented.

"Ain't that the truth..." Isacc muttered, glum at having his make-out session interrupted.

The pair soon walked, holding hands to the Shuttle.

The Arena waited in her guest quarters, While Isacc went to the holo-terminal in his own quarters.

Laertia Io, secretly Darth Xiphos, flickered into a blue ghost in front of him.

"Isacc, my son. How are you?"

"Great!" Isacc answered enthusiastically. "So...'sup?"

"Listen dear, Mommy needs you to pick up a guest and bring him to Naboo. To the Factory. His name is Nimdok. Errik Nimdok."

(Clip of Bond Theme Plays.)

Insanity doesn't know organic boundaries, any more than Love does. Isacc darted around slightly, looking for the source of the OOC music before he gave up.

"I've never escorted a Civilian before..." Isacc remarked. "Ground rules?"

"Don't scare him."

"Me? Scare a Civilian? Scandalous." Isacc replied. "I'll even wear a Tux..."

"You have a Tux?" Xiphos asked, perplexed.

"Got it by mail order!" Isacc clarified. "There's all sorts of weird chit on the Holonet for sale!"

"How did you pay for it?" Xiphos asked.

"Junk Bonds!"

"Where did you get the Junk Bonds?"

"I've been diversifying my investment portfolio. Playing the CIS Stock Market."

"Feth it, I'm gonna stop prying into that rabbit hole before I find anything else I would question, like who the feth gave you a portfolio..."

"Thanks! I appreciate it!"

Xiphos sighed. "I need you to head to Dosuun. That's where I told him to go and wait for pick up. He's en route there now, from what my spies told me. If you leave now, and head to the coordinates I send you, he should only have to wait about a half hour for your arrival."

"On it!" Isacc confirmed.

"There's a good lad..." Xiphos remarked. "I am pleased with you, Isacc."

"Thanks!" Isacc replied.

Xiphos ended the transmission and Isacc immediately headed to the guest quarters. He stopped, finding The Arena having morphed her flesh to make it look like she wore white Lingerie.

"So, Dreamboat, was it more of an emergency than the imminent possibility of falling into my loving arms?" she asked seductively.

"I gotta pick some civilian up at Dosuun and bring him to Naboo. Name of Nimdok."

"The man who exposed The Alliance's war crimes?" The Arena asked, intrigued. "What could your mother want with him?"

"Dunno. But I'm to treat him as a guest under my protection." Isacc replied.

"Oh drat." The Arena remarked. "And 'just' when I was about to do that spell on your processors that you like so much...I had a nice rag and a bit of polish set up too..."

"That, my Sherbet hued Murderess..." Isacc trailed slyly, activating the piloting controls wirelessly and lifting off. "Is what Autopilot is for..."

The Arena giggled as Isacc closed the door to the guest quarters...

("Calendar Girl" by Neil Sedaka Plays)


Present.

The Upsilon Shuttle descended into the Atmosphere of Dosuun, close to the Starport Nimdok had been instructed to wait by.

The Arena, hiding her presence in the Force, was currently disguised as a large orange cobra busily resting in Isacc's quarters.

Isacc himself, dressed in a Tux after a few hours of pleasure spells, strode down the passageways of the Starport. Because he was a Nuetralizer, they had gained an infamous reputation for both brutality and Astromech-like quirks, and multiple people who knew what he was backed away in pants-chitting terror. He held up a sign with Nimdok's name on it as he entered the waiting terminal. He kept an active scan for him, watching a bunch of nervous, sweating security personnel, with their hands close to the holster, staring back at him.

Wanting to make friendly personnel at ease, he gave a thumbs up, and they all backed the hell away.

"Prudes. They're just jealous because of how classy I look." Isacc scoffed, looking for Nimdok...

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok arrived on Dosuun aboard the Conestoga. He kept to himself for most of the voyage, alone with his books and artifacts, letting his pilot handle the ship.

During the voyage he had begun to sift through the source material he had already gathered on Laertia Io. Most of it was news articles and footage taken of her in action. There were also his own memories of the Jedi conferences in the wake of the failed Elder Compact, when he had been posing as a Jedi Padawan. Then there was the audio track that had been anonymously sent to him, a recording of what had happened at Salyrini. In the past, Nimdok had found the audio too difficult to sit through. Now, however, he was quite miserable as it is, and the sounds of a brutal battle actually took his mind off his own troubles.

Bithia had left him. He felt naïve for ever thinking that things would work out between them after everything that had happened to her, but he had still held out hope. Mostly for his daughter’s sake. Whatever went wrong between her parents, Miri needed them both. Bithia had reassured them she would visit regularly, but he had his doubts.

I don’t know how to say this, but… Do you remember me ever mentioning to you before we got married that I wanted to be a mother? I wasn’t against the idea, but it was never a dream of mine. I did it for you. Because I knew how much it meant to you.

Lying in his bunk as the ship descended into the atmosphere of Dosuun, Nimdok rubbed his eyes. The audio file had finished, yet he remained where he lay in the silent darkness of his quarters, haunted by memories of the night before Bithia left. The conversation they’d had. The things she’d said.

You don’t care whether or not I stay, except where Miri is concerned. You loved me when you died. I don’t doubt that. Probably still loved me when you came back. But somewhere along the way, you fell out of love… You have no interest in me now.

She made him sound so shallow, so selfish. But at the heart of the matter, she was right. Elise Ike had taken her place in his heart, and Bithia had her own problems to work out now that she was no longer human. Yet she had kissed him goodbye and told him she still loved him before she left. That probably hurt the most, knowing how close they had come to being reunited, if only things had gone… less poorly. But they were caught in a paradox. Nimdok never would’ve had a reason to come back from the dead if his wife and child hadn’t been kidnapped and experimented on in the first place.

A flashing light overhead notified him that the ship had landed. He rose and headed outside.

“Professor,” a feminine voice greeted. Jaina, a copy of Bithia his ex-wife had left behind to help him with various tasks, was already standing by the ramp, luggage in hand. She had piloted the ship, and would now accompany him as his bodyguard, much like Bithia had.

“Let me take one of these,” Nimdok said, picking up one of the bags. “Can’t have people thinking you’re my servant.”

“What will our relationship be in this scenario, then?” she asked, looking at him for clarification.

He had previously introduced her as his sidekick, even going so far as to joke that he was Batman and she was his Robin, but that had prompted her to call him by his first name, Errik, to further the charade. Only Bithia had called him Errik. He tried called her his daughter instead; she started calling him Dad, which made him miss Miri terribly. Finally, he gave up on the faux familial relation and just described her as his secretary, a term that was universally understood to mean servant in all but name. He hated to admit that part of him resented her presence and found it satisfying to treat her as little more than a droid servant, but she was a reminder of what he had lost and how badly things had gone wrong. He would not allow his anger and bitterness to get the better of him, however.

“You’ll be my assistant,” he answered, managing a wink. “My very young, very attractive, very dangerous assistant.”

She smiled and lowered the ramp. Configured to her Civilian Form, a beautiful young woman of Atrisian descent, Jaina wore her Dragon Skin gown, underneath which she had hidden a few stealth weapons. They were able to get past the starport’s security sensors unmolested thanks to the clever design of the guns and ammo.

The two strode down the ramp and into the starport. Nimdok was tired and depressed, but he hid the physical signs of it with his shapeshifting abilities. However, between the stress he had been experiencing and his own uncertainty about the upcoming meeting with Laertia Io, his reaction to the tuxedo-wearing, sign-bearing Neutralizer awaiting their arrival was to burst into nervous laughter. Jaina glanced at him, concerned, and several people turned to stare—though most were already gawking at the presence of the Neutralizer anyway.

“Right…” he whispered, catching his breath and clearing his throat. “You must be our escort. I am Professor Nimdok, and this is my… my assistant, Miss Jaina... Grayson. We are ready to go when you are.”

Laertia Io​

 

[Laertia Io]

"Oh! I'm so relieved! Lets go! This is getting awkward being all public and chit." Isacc remarked as Jacen Nimdok and the copy of Bithia arrived.

"I'm Isacc by the way! I'm a Nuetralizer in case you were wondering..." Isacc chirped, his upbeat voice in contrast to his nightmarish skeleton face as he led the pair all the way back to the ship. Terrified people quietly got out of Isacc's way as he walked forward to his ship.

"Welcome to my humble abode! First Order Surplus...their weapons and tech are stuff I've grown particularly fond of. Unfortunately, I kinda got the call to pick you up at the last moment...all thats available to eat are stockpiles of military rations." Isacc explained. "I myself have no need of it. More for guests. You also have a guest cabin. You'll have to share, unfortunately." Isacc explained once they were aboard before wirelessly lifting off and speeding into orbit.

"So, you like, investigate War Crimes? That's what I was told..." Isacc said once he came back from the cockpit to make sure everything was in order.

He did a casual X-Ray scan on Nimdok. He was good. No weapons. He also did a scan on the Bithia clone. He didn't find the weapons, but he did detect the internals of the Secretary's brain.

"Why Miss Grayson, you're a military grade HRD!" The robotic skeleton remarked. "Laertia knows a lot of organic droids herself. Gotta hand it to you Professor...you came prepared. I and my brothers were made with opposite design intent...we can't pass for organic, but we can think like them enough to catch them off guard. As our designer intended. Now, a minor request...I can't exactly let you find out where The Factory I'm taking you too is. You and Miss Grayson will have to be blindfolded once we enter Naboo's orbit for the remainder of the trip. Is there anything you need, Professor? Water? A book? Grenades, perhaps? A throwing knife? Everybody needs throwing knives. Great for target practice..." Isacc suggested, straightening his black bowtie.

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

The Neutralizer, Isacc, was quick to lead them to its… his… ship, a military shuttle dating from the days of the original First Order. Nimdok let Jaina go first. She ascended the ramp behind Isacc, carrying one of the bags in her arms, and had a quick look around before glancing back at Nimdok. The professor clambered up after her, dragging his luggage.

“That won’t be a problem,” Nimdok assured the droid when the issue of the guest cabin was mentioned. He turned to Jaina as if making sure she was okay with the accommodations, but he was really asking, with his quirked eyebrow and questioning look, whether food would be a problem. She returned his stare with a slight nod; she’d made sure she was well-fed beforehand. He let out a sigh of relief. If worse came to worst, he supposed he could let her feed from him. He certainly had a few recent memories he’d like to forget.

“I am a historian,” Nimdok answered Isacc’s question, setting his bag down in the guest cabin. “I investigate events and people of note. Sadly, journalists in this day and age cannot be trusted… They rarely deliver all the facts, and the ones they do report on are often twisted by faction bias, or it’s just plain propaganda. I never set out to be a whistleblower, only to document history as it happens. It is… unfortunate that I’ve developed a reputation as such.”

Nimdok glanced up sharply as Isacc discovered Jaina’s true nature. But just as quickly as the subject was brought up, it was dropped. Clearly Isacc, and by extension Laertia Io herself, were not concerned about the professor’s assistant being an HRD.

“I was based on the same technology as Laertia Io’s sisters,” Jaina remarked. “Although in my case, it was stolen tech which was modified. Are you familiar with the Minas?” She had only a few fragmented memories of Bithia’s, and they were only from after she was transformed into a biot—among them her recollection of discovering the Tomb of Cidd Cinndurr on ExGal Alpha.

“There’s nothing I need at the moment, thank you,” Nimdok replied smoothly, seeking to tamp down a little on the Neutralizer’s infamous quipping and violence-loving personality. He paused, averting his eyes for a moment as he thought he sensed something—or someone—in the Force… but no. There was nothing and no one. He must’ve been mistaken. Tired and seeing things that weren't there.

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I had better get some rest,” he said, disappearing into the guest cabin. Jaina watched him go, then took a seat near the door and crossed her legs. She was worried about him. Not only was he going through problems in his personal life, he was suffering on behalf of his friends. Lao-mon had recently been invaded by the Brotherhood of the Maw, a rising faction with disturbing similarities to the Bryn’adul. His old mentor, Tammuz Hoole, lived in Goshen, which had been the first city to be attacked. Nimdok had spoken of visions haunting his slumber, nightmares of Tammuz leading rebel armies in guerilla warfare against the Brotherhood’s cultists. In all his dreams, the old master perished in a gruesome manner. Jaina was afraid these visions would prompt Nimdok to do something more reckless than usual.

Still, he had agreed to this interview with Laertia Io in hopes of publishing yet another exposé. It would likely be his last, at least for a while. The failings of an imperfect galaxy had wrung him out intellectually and emotionally. The war crimes of the Jedi had been the worst, yet also the most successful and explosive of all his papers. But this situation with Laertia was more personal. She had nearly gotten Starlin killed at Dantooine, and had made Syd Celsius into a pariah among the Jedi. Given how much she had affected the lives of those close to him, it was strange that Nimdok had never properly met Laertia before now. It was high time he came face to face with the Black Knight.

Laertia Io​

 

[Laertia Io]

"I'm familiar with every associate of The Black Knight. All the Nuetralizers are..." Isacc trailed at the copy of Bithia.

Isacc shrugged as Jacen Nimdok declined refreshments, Knives, AND grenades (The last of which utterly baffled Isacc...who in this day and age turns down free grenades?) and left it on autopilot, and headed to his personal quarters, locking it. "Lemme know if you need anything!"

The Arena rested, no longer in her orange cobra form but in her white catsuited appearance, had blocked the room off with enchantments using her blood, so no one would be able to sense or hear them.

"So, Dreamboat. We headed back to Naboo?" The Arena asked.

"Yep! Picked up our guests. One of them is an illegal military grade HRD but I kinda expected Nimdok to have an insurance policy." Isacc replied, putting on a shiny purple smoking jacket and sitting down on a reinforced seat.

The Arena slinked over to Isacc, stroking his skeletal chin.

"I think your Mother wants to give Isacc a full interview. I've been thinking it over

"I'm not surprised. Mother's a hardcore badass who rips Bryn'adul apart. Like all her sons. He probably wants to hear the juicy details of her exploits. I'll keep an eye on both of them." Isacc assured.

"Hmmm...you think he'd like to interview my boss?" The Arena asked.

"Would he leave alive? Or with someone wearing his face?" Isacc asked sarcastically.

"Someone like Nimdok is too high profile to kill and replace." The Arena said. "Its why we never try it. Too many friends, too many connections...we'd slip up eventually, impersonating him..."

"Would your psycho boss even like the idea?"

"You have no idea how many things The Amalgam would do for just the Lulz. Yeah, she'd like the idea in some pretentiously ironic sorta way..." The Arena confirmed, stroking his chin some more.

"Now...about those tune-ups..."

The Arena giggled as Isacc pulled her closer...

Meanwhile...

Naboo.


Lyli Dragi lay on the couch in the nude as Xiphos painted her, gathering every facet of her pale, athletic complexion in the privacy of her apartment space in the hidden factory on Naboo.

The mind of Syd Celsius , hiding inside the flesh of a fake Dark Jedi, still didn't feel like being herself after the disaster at Sarka, instead retreating into this shell to get out of her own skin and come to terms with the consequences of failing to protect the shield. So she lived vicariously through Lyli. Xiphos perfectly understood Syd's desire to escape herself, and frankly, just wasn't very concerned of the particulars of which version of Syd she got, as long as Syd was in there, deep down, playing her damaged brain like a harp. Which she was. Xiphos, even now, could feel Syd's muted spirit caressing her mind. Xiphos found herself getting along with Syd's idea of Advanced Cosplay troublingly easy: Lyli's aggression matched Xiphos at certain points, and she was much, much less reserved. Syd always seemed to be battling so much in herself. Lyli was sort of carefree. Xiphos liked that. But it was the Syd within her that truly thawed Xiphos.

"I have to admit, for someone everybody is so scared of...you really know how to show a girl a good time." Lyli mentioned, hungering for Xiphos to seduce her again as she had earlier. "But you really shouldn't spend all this time in the factory."

"No choice today, Lyli..." Xiphos replied, finding distraction in Syd's affection and drawing Lyli's glorious figure.

"Is it truly so necessary to make this...confession of yours?" Lyli asked. "Its not like it will change opinions of you. To some, you are the only one keeping their eye on the ball. To others, a monster."

"I have to be accountable to someone." Xiphos replied. "Someone who looks at it from a civilian perspective. Someone interested in the truth, no matter how bad it makes me look. I've stopped respecting the Jedi for the most part. Their opinion doesn't really count for much after Sarka, as I'm sure you would agree with..." Xiphos replied, her mutated bronze and green eye and gray cybernetic eye, flicking between the painting and the model, unsure which you she was actually talking about at this point where "Lyli" was concerned.

Lyli couldn't argue this. The Jedi had lost Sarka in a disasterous, humiliating manner. They thought to take on the Sith Empire, yet they cannot defend at all from the Bryn'adul. Yurb really had been a complete fluke.

A disaster in every sense. Only a few thousand Sarkans had escaped. Xiphos had radicalized a good number of them into the We Who Survive faction, ignoring the false promise of protection from The Silver Jedi.

"I do...but what are you actually expecting? Absolution?"

"Understanding..." Xiphos trailed. "I won't hide behind the walls of temples as the Jedi do when the Galaxy asks them to justify themselves."

"And if he condems you as they have?"

"Then he'll be doing it from a much more honest standpoint...that of a civilian. Which I can respect. My decisions have affected them the most. It makes sense."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Laertia."

"So do I." Xiphos replied quietly, finishing the paint work. Lyli rose, slipped on a long black silk robe and went to observe it.

"Nice lines. You captured me perfectly, Black Knight."

"You are worth capturing perfectly."

This earned Xiphos a kiss on the cheek, Syd's mind hungrily ensnaring hers from within Lyli's.

Just then, the alert system beeped.

Xiphos rose from her seat. That had to be her Son.

"They're here. Get dressed...unfortunately..." Xiphos added with a small smile.

Lyli's fingers glided over the face of the Light Side Sith and Xiphos almost started a repeat of earlier before remembering the importance of having Nimdok here. But Lyli was right...Xiphos DID need a break. But not yet.

Xiphos departed Lyli, who bit her lower lip in lust watching the biker-clad warrior leave before heading to the closet to pick out her gear.

Five minutes later...

Xiphos walked through the darkened Nuetralizer factory, her sons being assembled and tested on the factory floor toward the interior hangar where Isacc's ship waited. As indicated, Isacc had required them to wear blindfolds for the last part of the trip.

"Professor Nimdok..." the grim faced yet beautiful woman with fair skin and very dark brown hair said, her rough, spiky biker leathers at odds with her firm posture and focused, piercing stare.

"Welcome to this secure facility. I regret resorting to cloaks and daggers, but you know very well how many enemies I have. Please. Take off the blindfold..."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok and Jaina both did as bidden, removing their blindfolds. Nimdok was wearing real clothes rather than simply shifting his flesh into a form that resembled clothing. The three-piece tweed suit and bowtie certainly made him look the part of a professor. Beside him Jaina still wore her Dragon Skin, complete with concealed weapons hidden away underneath.

“Miss Io,” Nimdok greeted Laertia with a slight nod, noting her changed appearance. He was expecting it, having seen it already in footage, but up close it was somewhat jarring. Not as much as her voice, however… he still remembered the speech impediment quite clearly from when she had spoken at those Jedi conferences, and while her new voice was recognizable, it was a significant change. An improvement, if he was being honest, though he didn’t know the exact cause of it. Had she undergone experimental surgery? Hours upon hours of speech therapy? Was it the Force? Most likely the latter, if he were to hazard a guess.

“This is my assistant, Jaina Grayson. She won’t be taking notes or anything of that nature, but I still request that she be allowed to accompany me.” The slightly sly tone of his words, coupled with the obviously inhuman nature of the biot, made it rather obvious that she was acting as a bodyguard more than anything else. “It isn’t that I expect trouble here, not at all. I believe that you are a woman of your word, Miss Io, but as your son so aptly put it, I always come prepared.”

He slid a hand into his jacket pocket, retrieving a datapad with a microphone already attached. “Before we begin, I must ask for your consent to be recorded during the interview. Anyone else who desires to be quoted must also verbally consent—for legal reasons. Otherwise, we can start whenever you’re ready.”

Laertia Io​

 

[Laertia Io]

"I consent to being recorded..." Xiphos confirmed for Jacen Nimdok , then bidding him to follow her with Isacc through the assembly lines of the hidden factory, which had produced more Nuetralizers. As a matter of fact, Nimdok and Bithia were the very first pair to see a Model 2 Nuetralizer rolling off the line.

Its large bulky frame was a head taller than Xiphos, and its red photoreceptors flashed on as Xiphos and company walked along the factory.

Xiphos noted this, and stopped for a moment, pulling out an oil bottle, and proceeded to squeeze a few drops into its joints. Then a few on its head which she took out a small rag and polished it before moving on. The Model 2 was silent as it watched her walk away with the others before testing its joints out.

"I've been at work. Hard work. Nonstop since my failures at Sarka..." Xiphos admitted. "Model 2's don't have all the bells and whistles of The Model 1's but they've come with certain improvements...hopefully that will make a difference the next time...

They went deeper into the factory.

"Y'know, if I could do it all over again...I'd have been a baker. Or veterinarian. Something tame, like that. Something clean. The Lightsaber business is a dirty, dirty, business, Professor Nimdok..." Xiphos muttered as she glanced about the dark, foreboding war droid factory, voicing the weariness of whatever was left of Laertia Io.

"Especially when you play it the way I do. And you have to live with your choices afterward. For good or bad."

Xiphos led them into a large chamber filled wall to wall with war reports, tables of holodiscs, a small one with two chairs...and Lyli Dragi standing by, clad in a black armorweave leotard and knee high boots, hefting an ACP Gun. She looked at Xiphos then at their two guests professionally.

But photos also took up large spaces on the walls, photos of Jedi, dead, names getting matched to faces.

"Everything you see in this room is documentation of my actions, gathered from my own personal recordings, and corroborated with stolen reports from other governments. I...I don't show this casually, Professor. I took a long time before I decided to talk to you. I...regret not doing it after Dantooine, and I regret what happened with Starlin. Deeply."

Xiphos took a seat, mismatched eyes piercing him.

"So where do we start? I've never done an interview..." Xiphos asked, seeing the evidence of her crimes around her making her see the dead face of Alyosha. She flinched as his face flashed across her eyes...

"I'm not sure where I would start, myself."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

The sight of the latest model of Neutralizer and the room filled with evidence of the cost of Laertia’s fighting didn’t draw much of a reaction from Nimdok—or at least, he made an effort not to show what he felt or thought. He kept his face stony, devoid of emotion, falling into the role of the unbiased, slightly detached interviewer.

When his gaze landed on Lyli, he didn’t think much of her. Like Jaina, she was an insurance policy. Certainly he had no way of knowing who she was, much less that she was technically Syd in disguise. His only real takeaway from her presence was that Laertia must’ve had a thing for redheads.

The mention of Starlin brought him back. He clenched his jaw, then sighed. “What happened on Dantooine was… regrettable, but in that situation I think you were the least to blame,” he said. “You were not his master or his mentor… or his friend that you led him into battle.”

Tom Kovack had failed Starlin too. Failed to knock some sense into him, shake him out of the blind dream of a doomed alliance. And Nimdok had tasked him with stealing the artifacts, putting him in the path of interception by Cotan Sar’andor…

“I would suggest starting with you,” Nimdok replied. He had spent some time considering what approach he would take in writing the article, and was leaning towards a biographical style—perhaps even a character study of Laertia herself. “Tell me about your life from when you were born—or as far back as you can remember—up until this point, as if you were telling a story. Be as detailed as you want. I’m mainly here to listen.”

Laertia Io​

 

[Laertia Io]

"I remember..." Xiphos trailed.


Julia Crownwraithe was kicked to the gutter after losing the struggle for the blaster she had stolen from the gunshop she had in a Nar Shaddaa slum.

She was 007 years old, attacked by a scavenger in the black depths of the city planet. She had not eaten in two days, and was desperate. She hadn't really stood a chance. She had a knife, but she didn't want to use it...

But she also didn't want to die.

The Scavenger, a well known thief, had figured her easy pickens. He raised the pistol as the girl stood up, anger at having been beaten up clouding her judgement...

"I...remember struggling as a child, and lived hand to mouth. I don't remember much before six years old. My parents had been long dead by this point, having sacrificed themselves to save me from a terrible, murderous monster of a Sith. Trouble was, the guardian they had arranged for me was...incapacitated. I ended up fighting to survive on my own, I think, after age four. I was not prepared. I killed eventually. Nar Shaddaa wasn't a nice place. It never has been. Most times I killed for survival, or self defense. Other times I killed when...antagonized. Gang warfare is rife there. It was inevitable I'd piss off someone. And I did. Many times. A lot of them died for it. Wasn't until I turned twelve that it had become a semi-regular occurrence. Ideally you always want as little bloodshed as possible doing crimes there. Too intermingled. Kill one minor thug and it turns out he has a few friends looking for payback. But that planet taught me things. Sleight of hand, grifting. Lock picking, pickpocketing. Vital organ placement on multiple types of aliens. When my mentor found me, I had been trying to steal a holocron. She had to shoot me with a stun blast to stop me. I was already able to physically overpower adults at that point. My Mentor simply took the skills I had and expanded them."

Xiphos readjusted in her seat.

"I hadn't had a desire to be a Jedi originally. Wanted to be a Magician. Card tricks. Tricks with rabbits. I practiced for it. But when I met Ursula I..."

(Cutaway of fourteen year old Laertia Io cartwheeling in the fields of Dantooine while "Ursula Sandraven" meditates on a hill above.)

"I'm sorry...its difficult to talk about Ursula..." Xiphos said, voice cracking, breathing slightly harder.

"Give me a second...do you have any questions? Anything I should elaborate on?" She asked Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

From the age of four? Nimdok was genuinely shocked, though the only physical sign he gave of it was his eyes briefly flicking down to the floor. He could remember what his daughter was like at that age, still playing with dolls. He couldn’t imagine her surviving on her own in a place like Nar Shaddaa. Not without a miracle.

“You say your parents were killed—do you know who killed them, and why?” he asked. It seemed unlikely, given how young she had been, and there was presumably no one around to tell her. “And this guardian you speak of—what was your relation to them? Were they a relative, a friend of your parents? Do you know what happened to them which made them ‘incapacitated’?”

He didn’t press the issue of this Ursula individual, at least not yet. “You say you didn’t want to be a Jedi. Did you warm up to the idea eventually, or did you feel like you had no choice?”

Laertia Io​

 

[Laertia Io]

"They were viciously butchered when I was a baby. By a Sith that does not deserve the honor of me saying their name out loud." Xiphos answered Jacen Nimdok .

(Cutaway of J. Jonah Jameson laughing uncontrollably)

"As for the Guardian...she was...created for the purpose. She was incapacitated, her body destroyed by a ship explosion. My parents wanted a guardian powerful enough to defend me when they couldn't. The Sith was hunting me. Me specifically.

Even Isacc seemed to be taking an interest now, leaning forward on his seat.

Xiphos pondered the question about being a Jedi.

"I...I warmed up to the idea of being a Jedi because of Ursula. I was purposeless on Nar Shaddaa. No hope. No future. Ursula took me away from that. Told me I was more than I thought. Could be more than I thought. Told me I could save people from evil. I wanted to be after that...so began my training. I wouldn't be even a tenth as deadly as I am if not for her teachings. And I was happy, Professor. You have no idea how happy I was..."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

As expected, she didn’t seem to know much about her parents. Given that she had survived the attack because her parents had sent her away in advance, perhaps Laertia herself had been the intended target… and sure enough, Laertia confirmed this herself.

“I see—were your parents Jedi?” She might not know for certain, but he figured he might as well ask.

Laertia told of Ursula’s compassion and how it had made her want to be a Jedi. On the other hand, she focused on how Ursula had molded her into a warrior, a weapon. Strange for a Jedi to focus on making a deadly student rather than a well-rounded warrior diplomat. Granted, this might simply be Laertia’s view, not necessarily her master’s… still. Wasn’t the student a reflection of their teacher?

“Who was Ursula?” he asked, deciding to move on. “Did she belong to any particular Jedi Order or enclave? Was she your only teacher, or were there others? What about other students whom she taught—did you know of anyone else?” If he could get enough information on her, he might be able to look her up in the Silver Jedi's records. After all, they were the oldest and longest lasting of all the current Jedi factions.

Laertia Io​

 

[Laertia Io]

"My parents were Jedi. They fought bravely, but...they were no match for their killer...It wasn't even a close fight. They were...they were butchered."

Xiphos visibly winced as Jacen Nimdok asked about Ursula.

"I wasn't a standard Jedi. Ursula led a group of Jedi Shadows called The Marksmen. We were outliers to the various orders, particularly the Silver Jedi. The group was founded by a Shadow named Hiram Loste.

Xiphos filched out a small photo from her spiked jacket.

"This is a photo taken of him in his prime." She explained. "He was a powerful one from what I heard. He didn't become one with the Force until he was nothing but bones and living green fire."

Spoiler

"He took many of his teachings from the Gray Paladins, though unlike them, he found a use for more flashy aspects combined with the heavily militarized training. He found the Perfect Student in Ursula. Or so he had thought..."

Xiphos stopped a moment, gathering her thoughts.

"Ursula was my main teacher I very rarely had other tutors. And there were other members. Hadrian Amox. Lura. Grishom. V'droc. Torrence. Kadmus Riath...and...and Uri Udinia."

Xiphos's eyes went to the floor for a second.

"Uri joined later than I did. But somehow...I became the second favorite student once she was in the picture..." Xiphos said quietly. "It hurt me. They called Uri the Golden Eye, due to her accuracy. What I am wirh melee weapons, Uri was with firearms. I represented one side of Ursula's teachings, and she the other side. That whole 'Black Knight' moniker, it wasn't even thought up by me. The Sith started calling me that because I never spared them when encountered. Made a lot of enemies amongst them that way. I didn't think much of it in the old days. I mean, people have tried to kill me my entire life, and I've killed right back. Sith to me were just one more in the long list of "Tried to kill me." But in retrospect..." Xiphos went quiet a little, searching herself.

"In retrospect...I 'did' get a little too brutal dealing with them at points. It was easy to justify. Marksmen went after the worst of the worst. Sith so vile you're inclined to spit in their face out of general principle. We stopped a massive load of Dark Adepts before they became threats."

(Cutaway of the Hellicarriers preparing to fire on everyone below)

"But it all...it got bad...I can see it now. For all my skill, Uri had more strength of character. She left. I stayed. I stayed...and what a joke that became..."

She gestured to her cybernetic eye and rolled up her sleeve, showing her glossy black cybernetic arm, slender and in purportion to her other arm, almost matching in shape, yet devastatingly strong.

"That's how I got this. And Brain Damage to boot."

Xiphos found herself choking on the happy memories of her and Ursula.

"I'm sorry...can...can we skip Ursula? For now at least? Ask me something else..."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok listened intently as Laertia spoke about her training. He didn’t recognize the names she listed off, but made a mental note to research them all later. The manner in which she spoke of Uri Udinia was very telling—it was clear that there was some lingering jealousy there, a rivalry perhaps, and that Laertia felt the preferential treatment had been unjust. Nimdok began to put together a portrait of a younger Laertia, one who was reckless and eager to please her mentor.

She asked to skip the topic of Ursula. While he was intrigued, Nimdok was willing to comply with her request. He had by now taken a seat at one of the tables laden with data, placing his datapad on the counter.

“How did you sustain those injuries?” he asked, nodding towards her cyber arm and eye.

Laertia Io​

 

[Laertia Io]

"It was a suicide attempt." Xiphos admitted to Jacen Nimdok . "It left me with permanent and severe migraines that happen at random. I've spent nearly a decade finding ways to mitigate it. Treat it. But I can't cure it."

Lyli Dragi , who watched the interview silently from a corner with rapt interest blinked in surprise. Her squeeze had a lot of baggage. A lot of secrets. The Syd hiding with Lyli was horrified.

But that was only the start of it.

"The injuries were the original end of my time fighting for the Jedi Order. Tried to be a Magician like I originally wanted to be. I had some success... but it dried up eventually and after one really disastrous incident involving this Witch I intend to kill, I never met with any real success in my stage magic again. I then focused on hunting down the Witch. Her name was The Amalgam.

Xiphos's fist tightened at just saying the name. She did it without even realizing it.

"I hunted her for a number of months before circumstances and the reality of trying to kill someone that powerful hit home. Then Mythos invaded Atrisia. After that invasion I ended up joining the SJC."

Her mechanical fingers tapped the table anxiously.

"I went in without any intent of eventually betraying them, just so you know. I didn't decide to do anything except after the meeting Starchaser held. When I saw they were willing to let the Bryn'adul murder millions just to defeat the Sith, I...I snapped. Jedi aren't supposed to let so many die over a feud. It goes against everything they are supposed to stand for. Such critique likely means nothing coming from me. But I was horrified by the decision. I see it as evil. I refused to obey because I saw how evil the decision was, and how I would be evil for going along with it. So I rebelled."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Her answer was saddening, not totally unexpected. Suicidal thoughts were unfortunately a common phenomena in their day and age, especially for those with troubled lives and a history of suffering—which Laertia most certainly had in spades. Nimdok wondered what method she had chosen to go out with. It had to be something unusual, given that it had blown off her arm and put out her eye despite failing to end her life. Some sort of explosive, perhaps? A crashed ship? Suicide by Sith?

He didn’t press the matter, not wanting to bruise an already sensitive area. Even months later, when he would use his knowledge of her past against her in an elaborate torture by chagrin, he would not torment Laertia for her failure to kill herself, or for having wanted to die in the first place. He wasn’t that coldhearted and monstrous.

Laertia naturally moved on to another topic anyway. A topic which he found much more intriguing.

“What can you tell me about the Amalgam? Is it true that you are now allied with her?”

He was already somewhat familiar with the name, having heard it mentioned in relation to Laertia. They had apparently gone from being bitter enemies to reluctant comrades, though so far Laertia hadn’t mentioned their partnership at all.

Nimdok dodged the subject of Laertia’s motives for rebelling entirely. He didn’t want to argue with her or get into a philosophical discussion, at least not before he had a chance to learn all that he would need for his article.

Laertia Io​

 

[Laertia Io]

"I will tell you this much about The Amalgam..." Xiphos said, organic fist clenching.

"She is one of the deadliest, most highly skilled warriors I've fought. She is also a Psychopath. Unfortunately...she was also among the few willing to work with me. One horrible thing you learn in this business is that sometimes...not always, but sometimes...your enemy shares the same concerns you do. And just about the only thing we really agree on, albeit for different reasons, is that The Bryn'adul are bad for business. The Amalgam and I are still enemies. Deadly enemies. We postpone our feud to fight the Lobsters. The Amalgam enjoys working with me for sick reasons. I...tolerate her as a necessity. Were there no Bryn'adul, we would still be at war with each other."

Xiphos fidgeted a bit.

"Besides, better the devil you know than the devil you don't know. I knew this devil, and this devil knew me. Enemies though we are...we... understand one another..."

Xiphos looked extremely uncomfortable admitting that.

"That probably doesn't make much sense, does it? As an answer?" She asked of Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

“I think it means you’ve worked with her in the past,” Nimdok answered honestly. “That you used to trust her.”

Jaina, who had been standing at the opposite end of the room from Lyli, seemed a bit puzzled as to how Nimdok could have come to such a conclusion. Her psychology programming told her it would be counterintuitive, or at least unlikely. If you trust someone and they betray you, considering them an ally after that would be very difficult to accept. Laertia would have to have a very good reason for joining forces with someone who had already betrayed her trust…

“Whatever she did that makes you clench your fist whenever you say her name—” He gestured to Laertia’s hand. “Clearly it doesn’t bother you as much as it once did, or at least not enough to prevent you from working with her.”

He hadn’t guessed the whole truth, but it was plain that Laertia and the Amalgam had a history much deeper than Laertia was letting on.

Laertia Io​

 

[Laertia Io]

"So... there's a few sharp tools in the shed after all..." Xiphos mused at Jacen Nimdok

"Yeah...I used to work with her. Used to..." Xiphos admitted hesitantly.

Xiphos's head dipped a bit lower.

"It bothers me as much now as it did then. But I do it. Because whatever she did to me in the past matters very little if she'll help. I'd be a Hypocrite if I say we should set aside our differences yet refuse to discuss an alliance with my own personal enemy. I meant what I said."

She stood up, went to a nearby counter with a pitcher of water, poured two glasses, made them ice cold with her mind and brought them to the table, giving one glass to Nimdok.

"Would you care to take a break a moment, stretch your legs?" She asked, not exactly making eye contact. "I could show you some Anti-Bryn'adul weapons. I've been developing them for quite some time. Been busy studying the bastards."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

"So... there's a few sharp tools in the shed after all..."

Nimdok raised an eyebrow. “Well, I do have a PhD.”

Oh brother, Jaina thought to herself, rolling her eyes.

“Would you have wanted to do this interview in the first place if you didn’t think I was intelligent?” Nimdok added, smiling with his eyes in that peculiar way of his.

The ice seemed to have been broken, even if it was only a small crack in the thick glacier that stood between Laertia Io and the rest of the galaxy. Nimdok accepted the glass she gave him and drank from it without hesitation. It was quite refreshing.

A break sounded appealing as well. “Certainly,” he replied to the offer, standing up. He would follow Laertia wherever she led, the glass of water still in his hand. Jaina trailed close behind him, the hem of her gown just barely brushing the floor as she walked.

Laertia Io​