“I-I don’t know what to say…me?!?! Why me?!?!”

Coruscant….

--

--

Zakuul, Office of the Provisional Government…..

Commotion in the foyer made the Governor stand. Someone grunted outside the door and was shoved hard against the other side. Once the door flew open, the Governor frowned and slowly started to sit. Word had already reached the offices of the Provisional government of whom had arrived in orbit. It now made sense. Why the Republic had recalled all of their reserve forces. The Republic up till that point, used Zakuul as a deployment site. Helping the Government keep order and providing humanitarian assistance while the Zakuul got back on their feet. Only a small contingent, diplomats and government liaisons from the Republic remained. With this new arrival, the Governor wondered how long even those meager assets would remain.

Without a word, the Imperial officer approached. No ceremony, no greeting. Not even a bow to acknowledge the office which he stood in. Stopping at the foot of the desk, the Officer removed flimsy holo-stills from a package he carried and began discarding them face up on the desk for the governor to see. Looking down, he picked up one and looked at the image. Carnage, smoke and fire. A building destroyed and in the foreground, the marching ranks of the Eternal Empire. Skytroopers in front, flanked by the Knights of Zakuul. All of them heading toward a still smoking Sith Academy on Korriban.

“My Government had nothing to do—” Before the Governor could finish, the Officer raised a hand to stop him.

“You think we have forgotten what your Empire did to us…” Smiling viciously, the Officer looked down at the now fully seated governor. “I think I’ve made my point. Your period of neutrality has ended. It’s time for Zakuul to pick a side, before WE pick it for you.” Still watching the Governor as the man seated behind the desk bowed his head, dropping the holo-still.

“Zakuul…is a neutral planet. We’ve had enough of war and strife. What the Emperor and his children did to us—”

Laughing the Officer reached down and picked up the flimsy the Governor put down. He looked at it with a scrutinizing eye, before regarding the Governor again. “Yes, I would say you all have had your fill. Then you won’t mind if MY Empire establishes a foothold here. A Garrison or two, in order to keep our enemies out.” The Governor started to speak again as the Imperial Officer slammed his hands down on the desk leaning in. “I’m afraid I MUST insist. The Republic has abandoned you. Left you here to rot as they flee from the might of the Sith Empire. You can either agree willingly…or we will simply take this planet by force. You have no choice and in light of these pictures…” The Officer flipped the flimsy back toward the Governor, hitting the man in the chest. “…I can say with the utmost confidence that MY troops will be eager to exact a little vengeance on those who did us so much harm. Innocent or not, you ALL bare some responsibility for us being here.”

--

Zakuul, Residential Highrise District, Capital City Center…..

“You need to call them back!!” Taja angrily tossed the holocomm at Beta and proceeded to place her hand on her hip, pointing at the Jedi angrily. “Do you see who just arrived!!?!? It’s bad enough the whole of the Republic up and abandons us. But you too?!? No…un-uh…” She waggled a finger at him.

“Taja, please…” Beta spoke soft and pleadingly. “…I am a Jedi Master, it’s my duty to follow—”

“Follow what?!?!” Taja interrupted. “Orders?!? The Code?!?” Taja laughed mockingly. “WE are way past that, baby.” The former priestess of Izax was glaring at him, looking him up and down as he continued to pack. “I’m telling you…if you walk out of that door; don’t even THINK of coming back.” That made Beta stand and finally face her. Walking slowly, Beta placed his hands on her shoulders once he reached her, pulling Taja toward him slightly. It was no secret to anyone on Zakuul that the two of them had become an item. Words like Love and Lust, forbidden the closer one got to the Jedi Temple, were not as taboo on Zakuul. Beta smiled warmly.

“Come with me.”

Taja slapped the Jedi’s hands away and took a step back. “NO!! And abandon my people!!?!?”

“You expect me to abandon mine?!?” Beta’s eyes flashed a momentary pang of anger, before his Jedi calm erased it. Sighing he bowed his head, trying to remain in control. A long silence passed between them before Beta looked up and at her again. “It’s War, Taja…I’m needed by the Order. The Republic is not going to stand for the Empire being here long. As soon as assets are available, I promise you—”

“—where have I heard that before?!?!” Taja glared again. “You know what, it’s fine. You go…GO!!” Picking up an errand shirt he failed to pack, Taja flung it at him. “We don’t need you, the Zakuul need no one. We’ll—I’ll do this myself…”

“Taja!!!”

It was too late. Taja stormed out. The door sliding shut behind her. Beta tripped over a bag trying to get to the door. But again he was too late. The main door of their apartment closed with a flurry of Taja's robe in its wake.

Taja was gone.

--

Zakuul, Capital City Center….

An excitement or change in environment always brought the Zakuul out. Rows and rows of people stood shoulder to shoulder, clearing a path for the marching troops. Not their own. But Imperial Soldiers. Walkers and mechanized conveyances moved in a line toward a single point. No one cheered, simply watching. Some with disdainful looks, others just curious.

An explosion toward the front of the line sent the people scrambling. Those in the crowd screamed as they scattered. Imperial Soldiers not affected by the blast were turning toward the point of impact. Red sabers of the Sith Overlords activated. In time with the red, blue and yellow sabers of some in the crowd. A cry rang out. From somewhere in the crowd.

-- “For Darth Retuvisa!!! For the one true God!!!”

-- “Izax curse you!!!”

-- "FOR ZAKUUL!!!"

The sabers clashed once blasters erupted on all sides. And in the center, in the thrall of it all stood, Taja. Flipping over a slashing blow from one Sith to come down behind him and impale the warrior with her yellow blade. She withdrew and flourished, looking toward the heart of the battle.

The Empire had brought the war to Zakuul. Now they would face the Cult they helped create and the warriors left behind by the destruction of the Eternal Empire.

--

--

‘The End’….Cellblock AA-52, Maximum Security….

The first few days were filled with many suspicious looks. No one ever got caught looking, but Mrysti could feel their eyes. They were looking when she went to the shower. If she sat down to eat in the common area and it was always alone, she could sense them all sizing her up. A lot of that went away her first day in the exercise quad. Stacking every weight on the bar she could and benching well over the maximum weight the bar was allowed to hold. The bar bent slightly. She felt the eyes turn away. They didn’t want to face that. Not anyone who could lift the 'world' in their bare hands.

They knew who she was. Word got around fast. Communications within the prison or any prison sometimes rivaled any modern communications network. And that word traveled in circles between the guards and the prisoners. Sometimes, it wasn’t even words. But actions. The guards, who roved among the prisoners at set intervals during the day, kept well away from her. Darth Retuvisa. The ‘Hammer of the Empire’. Not just any Darth and certainly not a normal prisoner. She had killed more people than the Tarisian Flu.

Even with the Force suppressor, which was really just a pain amplifier attached across her neck; Mrysti could feel the eyes and the sense of those people turn away. They all saw it, the suppressor that was meant for those who could wield the Force. It was meant to deter anyone from using it by reminding those who did the pain it could inflict if they tried. Mrysti didn’t fear it, she even relished the thought of trying it out once again. But that wasn’t in her plan. Mrysti lifted all of the weight on her own. The suppressor could not take away that which was genetically given to her. For the moment, she didn’t need the Force. Not in there. Let the Imperials think they had her under control.

Prison was not so difficult to understand. A place of extremes. A microcosm of the galaxy that was ramped up to a serious level in every way. People still did what people would do on the outside, but lowered to their base instincts, reacted with that level of emotional response. There was a level of give and take. Those that gave, showed weakness. While those that took and then gave once they possessed the power, were seen as magnanimous. Mrysti was well suited for life on the inside. The Sith having prepared her for such an existence.

And it was only a matter of time before someone would test her. According to journals and literature she remembered reading at some point or another; it was typically thirty days. It took thirty days for those smart enough to watch and wait to size up another inmate and determine their weakness. It was in a new inmate’s best interest to show none during that time. Some schools of thought actually believed it was better to establish dominance within the first thirty days. One piece of literature actually recommended within the first forty-eight hours of incarceration.

Mrysti was in no hurry. She was being watched. And not just by the guards and the prisoners. Moving to the exercise quad, she looked up at the holo-cams and smiled wickedly. Whoever was behind them was watching, had tested her at reception and was still watching. It was only a matter of time before they tried again. And she wanted to appear placative and uncaring for whomever was watching. To let whoever it was believe she wasn’t paying attention. When they did strike, she would strike back. Hard and fast. And it would be a complete surprise because of her attitude. There was no rush to establish anything because she knew, they were going to come to her. And do all of that work for her.

Conducting herself as a guest, Mrysti strolled from one place to another when all of the prisoners were out of lockdown. She spoke to no one, appearing not to be interested in getting to know any of the other inmates. Her attitude was more like one of the guards. Appearing that at anytime she wanted, she could simply leave. No one believed it. Least of all Mrysti, but it was important that all of those watching believed. Mrysti was under no illusions. At some point, they were going to make a move on her. Not the prisoners or the guards, but the one behind the eye in the sky. Someone was pulling the strings. And that someone had an agenda. When it happened, it would happen fast. Already Mrysti was planning her escape for that eventuality. The way Mrysti conducted herself in appearing to be able to leave anytime she wanted was not so far-fetched. She had no intention of remaining a prisoner long once those behind her incarceration revealed themselves.

Not all the eyes turned away. Mrysti felt the shadow before it loomed over her. Lowering the bar back on the rack, Mrysti craned her neck up to see who it was that could be looming over her, stealing her light and ruining her workout.

“THIS—Farrgh—weight.”

An alien. A very large alien. Basic was obviously not his native tongue, but Mrysti got the message. Slowly she sat up, lifting her back off the bench to look up at him. The creature had no eyes, just gilly flaps of skin covered the spots where eyes should have been, yet the creature’s head was pointed as if he was looking at her. And it was definitely a ‘he’. Mrysti looked him up and down as she smiled slightly. The first power play. Whoever the creature was, he obviously ran things or at least thought he did. All of this was expected, just not as quickly as Mrysti surmised. Perhaps the alien was put up to it, though Mrysti sensed no ulterior motives in the confrontation. Only a resolve that Mrysti should know her place. But, places like everything else could change.

Letting out a huff and a humorous sigh, Mrysti continued to smile. Slowly she stood. As large as the creature was, Mrysti was well above a full head taller. Shaking her head, she looked down. A warning was appropriate, though her first instinct was to simply lash out and destroy the creature.

“Do you…” Mrysti began softly, leaning in as not to embarrass the alien in case he decided to back out. “…really want to ride this tram?”

That was all it took.

In a flash and in a gruff loud motion the creature lunged, arm and fist first. Mrysti didn’t move, other than to stand back up straight. As the fist got close to its mark, she caught it before he struck her. Her massive green hand curling up and around the fist with a smack of flesh meeting flesh. Then she squeezed. Mrysti felt the bones of the other’s hand crackle and twist. The creature let out a grimace, starting to swing with the other hand. Mrysti cracked the hand in her own as the alien fell to his knees causing the retaliatory strike to stop. Any thought of continuing the attack bled out as the creature cried out in pain. Grabbing the arm Mrysti held with the one was about to attack with.

“I’m going to speak slowly…” Mrysti squeezed harder, she felt the hand break in another two places, leaning in. Out in the yard, the other prisoner's eyes went back to her and the altercation in the weight area. Not because they were sizing her up, but because of the change of command. This was one of the moments that would define things within the block. Prisoners had a sense for that. “…you own nothing. However, ‘I’…now own you. Since you’ve given me this hand, you will have to ask for me to give it back. And once I do, you owe me. Because this hand…is mine.”

“PUH—PLEASE—”

“Use your words. Farrgh, did you say? That’s your name?”

“YES—FARRGH”

“What do you want Farrgh?”

“M-MY—HAND—FARRGH---WANT HAND!!!”

Mrysti let the hand go. Farrgh fell back on the floor with a crash. She was fairly certain she had broken the hand to pieces. Surprisingly, the creature stood up. Of course, cradling the hand in its other. Once he was fully on his feet, his sightless visage ‘looking’ at her; Mrysti crossed her arms over her chest.

“Now, what do you say Farrgh?”

“WH-WHAT?”

It was the wrong answer. Mrysti struck with speed and force. The arms across her chest moving out in a blur as a green fist met the face of the one who dare not answer appropriately. The punch echoed across the exercise quad. Much louder than the sound of Farrgh hitting the ground unconscious. Mrysti looked down at the large creature. He wouldn’t hear her. Those watching would have to tell him what she said later on, if they wanted to or if he bothered to ask what had happened.

“You say…’thank you’. Anytime anyone gives you something you want, you say….’thank you’.”

Picking up her towel off the bench, Mrysti looked out toward the others who watched the incident take place. A wicked glare glazed over her face to match the veneer of sweat she built up using the bench. No one said anything, but people moved. They all moved out of her way, almost forming a cordon all the way out of the exercise area. It reminded Mrysti of other cordons she had seen. Arrivals, official events. Soldiers and dignitaries lined up in honor of the ‘Empire’s Hammer’. This…was not so different. The Hammer had given way to the new ‘Queen’ of Cellblock AA-52.

--

- Control Office, Warden’s Private Study….

“Interesting.” The Warden looked over his shoulder at the Captain of the Guard. “Did you put Farrgh up to that?”

“No, your Excellency…he did that entirely on his own.”

The Warden looked back down at the holo and watched Mrysti leave. His hand to his mouth as he thought and contemplated. Turning back to the Captain, he dropped the hand and looked up.

“Perhaps it’s time we introduced ourselves. Indoctrination first…this has moved much faster than I anticipated. First week and she’s already established dominance. Quite a turn, wouldn’t you say?”

“Alarming” The Captain looked at the holo, “But not unexpected. She’s commanded armies, led…conquered.”

“Then, we need to humble her a bit. Perhaps, show her that SHE is not in charge.”

--

--

- Dromand Kaas, Sith Citadel….The First Galactic War and the Treaty of Coruscant…some thirteen years prior....

Summoned to Darth Vowrawn’s private office, Lord Cornelia Usher fixed herself proper on the way while sitting in the back of the enclosed speeder. Rumors, all of them flying about that Vowrawn was destined for greater things and those who attached themselves to his coattails were sure to follow. Cornelia had many detractors and detriments to advancement. Most of all being human in a Pureblood dominated government and society. It paid to know people and to be known. It helped to erase those detractors.

Standing outside of his office and pacing, Cornelia went over what she was going to say. How to sell herself to him, that she was the best candidate for his Chief of Staff position. Her war record spoke for itself. Her performance at the academy on Ziost, exemplary. As a Sith; even for a human, she stood out. Female, human, marked beauty. Both positive and negative aspects that got her noticed. The door chimed as a wall mounted speaker crackled to life.

The speaker shut off. Cornelia rubbed her hands over her blondish-brown hair one last time and straightened her tunic and armor. Once the door opened to darkness, she slowly and confidently strode inside.

--

“Sensitive…” Vowrawn spoke softly, with a hint of malicious sarcasm in his voice. Looking down at Cornelia as he smiled. Fastening his tunic over the long robe he wore, pulling up the bottoms as he got dressed. Cornelia lay at his feet, mostly naked. A trickle of blood ebbing from the corner of her mouth, turning her head away and back to the cold floor. “Human vagina is by far the most sensitive….I can never get enough of the reaction I get from human females.” Vowrawn stopped himself and looked up, placing a finger to his mouth in thought. “Except maybe, Mirialans…I do so enjoy them. They scream for their 'god' before, after and during....”

Not even mentioning the position Cornelia had arrived to interview for, Vowrawn strode from the room. Leaving the bloodied and battered Sith Lord lying at the foot of his desk. After he was gone, she slowly picked herself up off the floor, stifling back the pain and tears that were threatening to overtake her. She felt stupid for not expecting it. Rumors, she had heard them. The things that Vowrawn did to others. But never in a million lifetimes did she believe he would do those things to her. Not her. A Hero to the Sith. A patriot to the cause from a very well-placed Imperial family. An exemplary citizen and Soldier for the Empire.

Standing up with a slight limp, Cornelia picked up her clothes and roughly tucked them close under her arms. Lifting her head and walking to the door.

No.

Not her.

Not now.

Not Ever.

--

- Vowrawn's Private Estate, Dromand Kaas....

“What is it?!?!” The guard exclaimed as he stuck his head from aside the booth’s partition. Comm traffic was frantic. A mixture of screams and cries for help. Ducking back inside, the guard pressed the alert panel and sounded the estate wide alarm.

“Come in!!! Guard Post One, Report!!” The perimeter guard pressed the transmit and yelled into the comm. “How many are there, what is your status!!!?!” It was clear, Darth Vowrawn’s estate had been breached. And it could be any number of enemies. The Republic, a rival Sith. They were always on guard for attack at any time for that reason. And it wasn’t just the war. Sith were surrounded by enemies. As it turned out, this was an all together different enemy.

“Only one…” The voice, feminine in origin spoke softly as the guard turned sharply to face it. And felt his chest open up with a searing pain and cracking sound. There wasn’t even time to scream. Cornelia stepped into the guard booth after discarding the guard's still beating and warm heart. Blood, not her own covering every part of her skin. The glow of her crimson saber lighting her way. She wanted him to know, wanted Vowrawn to know.

Not her.

Not ever.

--

“Get those gun emplacements in position…” Vowrawn was in his night robe, the wind whipping the sides of it open as he looked out and beyond the perimeter into the darkness. Once the slight ember of a crimson lightsaber broke the dark, Vowrawn’s eyes got wide. A rival, a fellow Sith come to claim what was his. “FIRE!!! FIRE!!!”

The night erupted in blue plasma once the gun emplacements opened up. All of them directed toward the slight red glow which continued to come closer. The red saber was moving so fast it was a blur, a red tracer of movement which deflected the initial barrage of cannon until it simply disappeared. Vowrawn smiled.

“Cease Fire….” The Dark Lord placed his hands on his hips. “Guards…go out and retrieve whatever is left of the fool who dared to challenge me. I’ll have their name to give to the Council…”

Vowrawn turned back to walk into the estate house and stopped suddenly, taking a step back.

“You had me, Darth Vowrawn….” Cornelia, a visage of blood and death started toward him. The red of the crimson lightsaber she held hissed back to life lighting up the many lives she taken all over her skin. The woman was naked, only the gore clothing her. It was for shock and awe. Something to give anyone who wanted to attack her a momentary pause. And it worked. Until that moment. “…now I will have you.”

Cornelia was from a well-funded and prominent Imperial Family. It wouldn’t do to simply kill her, disgrace her and her name perhaps. The Sith needed the kind of support Cornelia's family could bring. In that moment, as Cornelia stepped toward him, this was yet another in a series of 'jaded' lovers who had come calling. This one had to disappear as well. Vowrawn had kriffed up. Underestimating the tenacity of this Sith. Most, kept their mouths shut. They let it happen, let Vowrawn have his way. But not Cornelia.

Not Now.

Not Ever.

--

- Cellblock AA-52, 'The End' - Maximum Security....Mess Area....

How many times had this guy; well it wasn’t really a guy, the male alien creature that was so gracious to greet Mrysti on her first few days in prison, had his ass kicked? Not many, Mrysti suspected. Mostly because, beside herself; the creature known as Farrgh was the largest ‘Monster’ on their block; if not the entire prison. Already a suspicious person Mrysti watched him very carefully. A rough upbringing and a hard life taught her to watch the most dangerous long before she was sent away. That first day, Mrysti taught Farrgh a lesson. And the creature stayed well enough away.

But this, it just irked her. And it was beginning to be such a lovely day. Early rise, the weight room all to herself. An hour or two in the exercise quad. Silent breakfast and time to contemplate and consider things. Mrysti had all kinds of time to think. Then the day took a strange turn.

Mrysti didn’t know why it got under her skin. Seeing Farrgh pick on someone so much smaller than he was. AND a woman. Human by the look of her. Creeping up behind him, Mrysti folded her massive arms across her broad chest and listened. The frown she wore soon turned to a slight smirk. The smaller human female was anything but defenseless. Not that Mrysti was going to allow Farrgh to throw any weight around. There was a new ‘Queen’ of the cellblock. And that was Mrysti.

“You---owe” It was broken pidgin basic. The most Farrgh could muster with alien vocal cords. He understood much better than he could speak. The small brownish-blonde turned slowly, only her eyes looking aside at the massive alien. She caught a glimpse of Mrysti standing behind Farrgh, who had not yet realized he was being stalked. The smaller woman did not betray Mrysti’s presence.

“Owe” Turning back around after saying the word questioningly, the smaller woman laughed. “I don’t owe you anything.” Imperial. The accent was unmistakable. But not just any Imperial accent. Highbrow, educated. From a very wealthy class. She sounded like the Warden. Another aristocratic type. Not mottled and rough like the Imperial tone Mrysti so often spoke.

“YOU---OWE” Farrgh reached down and just before the hand touched her shoulder, the utensil the small Sith was carefully hiding in her other hand found it’s way through the aliens palm and out the other side of its hand. Greenish-blue blood spurted from the wound as Farrgh grimaced and drew the hand back, lifting it too ‘look’ though sightless skin flaps where its eyes should have been. Slowly, Farrgh pulled the buttering knife all the way through its hand and dropped it on the floor. “NOW—YOU PAY”

Not that the brunette needed her help, but it was a matter of principle. Mrysti had already established the pecking order and Farrgh was acting out of turn. Getting up, the woman kicked the chair she was sitting in back; in order to give herself some fighting room. Mrysti never let it get that far. A large green hand landed on Farrgh’s shoulder and the sightless alien turned and smelled, sensed who it was. He bowed his head and waited. Mrysti knew he couldn’t see, but the creature who saw through sound and some sort of other sense; knew she was shaking her head.

“Farrgh. We’ve discussed this. At length. Perhaps we need to have another discussion, yet again…”

N-NO—” Farrgh looked back toward the other Sith and turned his head back toward Mrysti. “Farrgh—go. She—owe you—now”

As Farrgh walked away, his head low; Mrysti looked toward the tiny woman who already took up her chair once again and sat down. That was surprising. The smaller woman said nothing to Mrysti, nor acknowledged her support. It made Mrysti scoff a laugh. Sitting down, Mrysti glared at the woman, who went back to drinking whatever was in the cup she formerly held before all of the turmoil.

“Before you say it…’My Lord’ you should know, I did not ask nor require your assistance.” Mrysti sat back in her seat at the words, a broad smile forming on her face. Obviously the woman knew who she was or at least had some idea. And it was evident that even at her size, facing a much larger more intimidating opponent held no challenge. Had Mrysti the full use of the Force, her first instinct was to reach out to her. Rubbing her hand across the suppressor on the back of her neck reminded Mrysti that though she still had use of some of her power, she lacked the full ability. The pain inflicted by the suppressor was enough to make use of the Force a last resort commodity and disrupt anything she would try to do within it. The woman turned her head to look at Mrysti, it was then that she noticed the woman was also equipped with a similar device across the back of her neck.

“There are not many of us around.” Mrysti inclined her head toward the other woman’s suppressor and smiled. “My name is—”

“—I know who you are.” The chair made a loud screech turning with the woman toward Mrysti. “…if you’ve been part of the Empire for the last decade, you would have to live in a box to not know. The ‘Hammer of the Empire’…” The woman scoffed. “The very last person in the galaxy I would ever expect to see here. You must have rubbed someone the wrong way.” The woman started to turn back around, Mrysti leaned forward.

“Perhaps, I’m not the only one. You seem to stick out. Young, pretty…human. You look more like the model Imperial than a prisoner.”

“Maybe” The woman said simply, still not an inkling of respect in her voice. “It matters very little, none of us are going anywhere.”

Mrysti soured of the conversation, getting up. But not before she leaned down placing her weight and her hands down on the table. Her shadow looming over the fearless woman. “I…am. Going somewhere that is. Someone wanted me here, I am granting their desires until it suits me to do otherwise.” Mrysti pushed off the table. But before she walked away, the large Mirialan turned back. “You are only a prisoner if you allow them to treat you so. I like to think of them as OUR prisoners.”

--

The lights were turning down with the automatic sensors and timers. It was mandatory lights out. Soon, the doors would follow. It was the same every night. Mrysti typically used the que of the lights going down as her way of reminding herself to meditate before bed. Instead, she turned the blanket down. Flopping down on the bed, she folded her hands behind her head and looked up at the ceiling. Already her mind taking her to different places. Imagining different scenarios on how to escape and what would be needed. More importantly, what she was going to do to those who placed her there once she was free. Those thoughts made meditation necessary, a way of prepping her for the necessity of releasing her mind before bed.

“Cornelia”

The voice made Mrysti rise from her solitary bunk and look up toward the still open doorway. It was just before lockdown, others were still roaming free in the common area. Standing in the doorway, the tiny Sith from earlier nodded curtly.

“My name…it’s Cornelia.”