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Zane Richards's picture

Lavaeus’s scout fighter dropped out of hyperspace on the night side of Tatoonie. Only a few moments later she’d found a spot to land, and began her descent into the planets atmosphere. The S-SC4 Blood Mark was several steps down from here Fury, but it had what she needed. Climbing down from the cockpit she surveyed her surroundings. The rocky terrain would conceal her transportation well enough, a few strategic placed mines would discourage any who did happen upon it.

Wrapping a scarf around her head and leku she set out across the sand, a long staff she brought would test the sand ahead for sinkholes and the like; her senses, and connection to the Force would manage the rest.

A few questions, a few threats and a small bribe lead her to her prey. The slaves she sought were not far from her chosen landing spot. She knew the collar on sight, and had been surprised they were still right where she left them. The slaves that the Mistress had purchased her Jedi slave were the same another Sith Lord had purchased another force user from so many years ago. Though that slave had been no Jedi. A smile came to Lavaeus’s lips at the memories of terror and carnage on the day she awoke to the Force.

Would they remember her? Would they see the gladiator slave in the Sith Lord that she’d become? Unlikely, it had been so long ago, but it would be... amusing.

It was just past midnight with the light of the last sun fading on the horizon when the cluster of surface buildings came into sight. Stealth or Savagery she wondered idly, watching the few meagre and clearly intoxicated guards stumbled about. With such poor discipline it may not matter, but to get a better look she opted for stealth, cloaking herself in the force she moved closer.

Stealth or not none were left breathing on the surface before she headed below. Not a single mark would be found on her victims, a puzzle to add to the horror that would follow. In the underlying structures beneath the sand voices broke the silence.

As she slipped into the main room several sat around the pazzak table gambling while others sat around taking part in various pleasures of the flesh. Lavaeus thought of her brother, he would enjoy such a party, if not the company present.

One of the patrons moved away from the table to wasted or too broken to continue. Lavaeus grinned and dropping her Force Shroud took his seat at the table.

“Mind if I join the game?”

Whether they were too drunk or too startled to react was hard to say at first, but the man at the head of the table as old and damaged as he was could not forget that one combination of violet eyes and crimson skin.

“Lavaeus?” He blinked confused. “But you were taken by that...”

“Sith?” the lethan finished for him. “Yes, though it’s Lady Lavaeus if you don’t mind. Or ‘My Lord’ would do as well.”

Fear filled the man’s eyes but this was his house and he would not bow easily.

“In a bantha’s bollocks! I’ll call you no such think yet still a vicious little monster, and I ain’t impressed by no Sith business.” He gestures to one of his heavies, “Toss this Sith birch out on her lekku.”

As the man stands Lavaeus merely glances over her eye dart to the left sharply and the enforcer’s neck follows with a sickening crunch.

“I have a few questions Tarsk, how you answer them will determine how this goes. For your sake you should cooperate. I hope you don’t, it’s more fun.”

Up and on his feet Tarsk bellows “10,000 credits to the man who brings me her tits on pike.”

Slowly Lavaeus stands as the room begins to move around her. Her saberstaff is in her hand and snaps to life with an angry hiss, a sadistic smile creeps across Lavaeus’s face.

“I knew I could count on you Tarsk.”

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