Ellac stared blankly at the pale infirmary lights that hung from the ceiling as the medical droid unwrapped the bandages on his arms. “Your burns have all healed. As such, I’m discharging you,” the droid said dryly. “Do give Master Lap’lamiz my regards. Seven years I’ve been serving in this station, and I’ve never had to tend to a single patient as many as I have you. Now get out of here. I’ve had enough of you for one planetary cycle.”
•••
The mess hall was quieter than usual, with a lot of people taking leave to be with their families and friends, or even just to get away from the recent conflicts. But for all the vacationing, there were still those like Ellac who didn’t really know what else to do with his time. Sykes was away on some business with the Clan summit, and the others who had gone on Kamjin’s little ‘Island retreat’ were either still recovering or visiting family of their own. As Ellac slid his tray down the line, shoveling food onto his plate, he noticed a grey-skinned Togruta sitting alone at one of the center tables, glaring at his meal as he tossed it with his fork. His orange eyes glanced over, locking with Ellac’s for a moment before he stood up, dumping what was left of his food in the bin as he left.
“If you’re done gazing at tall, dark, and broody over there, could I be a bother and ask you to go eat in peace so I could get some food?”
Ellac chuckled as he looked over his shoulder at the man behind him, immediately doing a double-take when he saw the blood-red hair and maroon facial tattoos laid over his pale skin, with a black piece of cloth wrapped over his eyes. “…Sorry,” Ellac said, stepping away from the counter.
“Are you?,” the man asked.
“I’m sorry?,” Ellac said, looking back at him.
“You don’t even sound sure anymore,” he poked.
Ellac stared at him in equal parts irritation and intrigue as the man turned with his tray towards the Knight.
“What?” he asked, biting off a piece of bread from his plate.
Ellac hesitated, inspecting the cloth over the man’s eyes. “How can you see?”
“Never met a Miralukan before, huh? Allow me to introduce myself then. Azerith Wesmir. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, extending his hand.
“Ellac,” he said, reaching to shake his hand before finding his right hand was extended to Azerith’s left.
“A man with no last name? Someone has trust issues.” Azerith teased, switching his hands around.
“Let’s just say the last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye. So no, not a fan of the whole ‘blind trust’ thing,” Ellac smirked, finally shaking hands with the Miralukan before setting down at the table beside them.
“I see what you did there,” Azerith snickered.
“*Do you?*”
“No, but apparently neither do you.” Azerith sneered. “Sounds like it was a good time.”
“Agree to disagree on that one.” Ellac spooned a bit of the standard issue slop into his mouth as Azerith chuckled between bites.
“Oh yeah?”
“*You* dive headfirst into a pile of poodoo and tell me that you’re having a good time.”
“If I recall,” a familiar voice rang behind Ellac, “it was more than just poodoo.”
“Master. That was rather quick for a summit gathering.” Ellac turned to greet Sykes as he took a seat beside his apprentice.
“It wasn’t nearly as long as I’d have liked,” Sykes said, eyeing his apprentice’s meal with distaste before shifting his focus to Azerith’s plate. “Enjoying Elaina’s lovely cooking, I see.”
“If it can even be called cooking.” The neophyte grinned as he pushed his tray away.
“Trust me, kid, there are worse things to eat. Enjoy this while you can.” Sykes let his words hang in the air as he turned back to Ellac. “We’ve been given a new assignment. Kah’ri and his master will be joining us on this one,” he said, rising to his feet. “You’ve got fifteen minutes. Get what you need, and get down to the hangar.” Sykes’s robes trailed loosely through the air behind him as he made his way to the door. “Oh, and Ellac,” he said without turning back. “**Don’t keep me waiting this time.**”
Azerith grabbed his tray as he rose from the table, waiting until he was confident that Sykes was out of earshot to speak again. “He’s a ray of sunshine, isn’t he?,” he said with a smirk. “Tread carefully with that one.” Placing his flatware in the same bin as the Togruta earlier, the Miralukan left with a nod towards his new acquaintance.
Taking one last bite of his food before doing the same, Ellac jogged down the corridor to the lift that took him back to his quarters. Gathering his weapons from the footlocker at the end of his bed, Ellac glanced over at the chronometer on his nightstand. “Damn, I’m gonna be late,” he said, clipping his lightsaber to his belt. Draping his cloak over his shoulders, Ellac rushed off towards the hangar.
The heavy blast doors slid open as Ellac stepped through, peering through the bustling assortment of pilots and droids to find Sykes leaning against the inner-wall of a primed Lambda-class shuttle, Kah’ri and another man Ellac had never met already sitting in the seats behind him. The muscles in the Hunter’s shoulders stiffened as he approached the ship, sensing the shadow looming over his master.
Sykes glared at his apprentice as he walked up the ramp, the young Sith opening his mouth to speak before closing it again as he continued up the ramp. As he stepped past his master, Sykes grabbed his arm, leaning in close to Ellac’s ear. “I warned you.”
Confusion flashed across the hunter’s face before he realized what Sykes had done. His left arm dangled limply from his shoulder as he pulled away from his master too late. Sykes pushed him down into one of the seats lining the shuttle wall as the poison began to spread to his chest. “Orders are not optional. If you’re not going to follow them, poison will be the least of your concerns. Clear?”
Ellac strained to nod his head as the toxins streaked through his bloodstream, causing his body to fail. The Hunter wheezed as he fought to maintain his breathing.
Sykes reached to the wall above Ellac, closing the bay doors of the shuttle as he commanded the pilot to take off, muttering as he walked towards the cockpit. “And you thought Kamjin was bad.”
The poison from Sykes’ ring began to drag Ellac’s mind into a heavy lull, his vision blurring as he struggled to maintain consciousness. *’This is STILL better than the rancors,’* he thought to himself as the last of his cognizant brain functions were wrest from his grasp.
•••
A sudden bump jolted Ellac from his toxin-induced sleep, his eyes squinting up at the orange evening sky above him. ‘*This isn’t the shuttle.*’, he thought to himself as he inspected the land speeder he was now laying in. Multiple people sat in the speeder around him, their tattered clothes and bound hands matching the grim expressions on their faces as they rode to whatever fate awaited them.
“Hey, you’re finally awake.”
Ellac craned his neck as he looked over to the man who spoke, doing another double-take when he recognized the red hair and blindfolded eyes of the man sitting in the speeder beside him. “Azerith?”
“Fancy meeting you here,” the Miralukan chuckled. “You’ve been out for a while.”
“Just having another good time,” Ellac sighed, trying to push himself up before realizing his hands had been bound, too. “What the…?”
“Oh yeah, looks like we’re slaves now,” Azerith said, raising his hands to show a pair of stun cuffs.
“What are you talking about? **Hang on, why are you even here?**”
“I didn’t have anything better to do, and I wanted to know what you guys were up to, so I kind of, sort of peeked at your shuttle’s navi-computer when no one was looking and I followed you guys over here. I showed up just as the rest of our friends here were loading onto the speeders,” he said, gesturing to the other slaves. “When I saw that master of yours toss you into this speeder, I followed suit.” Azerith smiled.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Ellac said, pushing himself up with his elbow. “As soon as Sykes finds out-”
“Oh, he already knows,” Azerith interrupted with a grin. “He saw me jump in the speeder, but he couldn’t do anything to me without rousing suspicion, so here we are.”
Ellac shook his head with a laugh. “You’re either crazy or brilliant.”
“It’s funny how often those two coincide,” Azerith said, maintaining his grin.
“Quiet back there!” the pilot growled from the front of the speeder.
Ellac looked over at the other slaves, realizing that they hadn’t uttered a word since he woke up from his ‘nap’. Recall the earlier incident, Ellac also noticed that he hadn’t seen Kah’ri or Reiden since the hangar. “Where are the others?” he asked in a hushed voice to Azerith.
“The only other person I saw get out of your shuttle was *that* guy,” Azerith said, pointing towards a brown-haired man riding in another speeder in front of the one these two were in.
*‘So there IS a plan,’* Ellac thought to himself, noticing the same grim expression on the ‘passengers’ in the other speeder. *’But of course Sykes didn’t feel inclined to share it.’* He shook his head in frustration, turning back to Azerith. “Did you happen to find out where they’re taking us?”
“Nope. I just hope it’s not one of those places like the Hutts on Tatooine. They’ll feed you to a rancor if you look at them sideways,” he said, realizing his poor choice of words as Ellac’s expression began to match the slaves’ next to him.
Ellac clenched his teeth at Azerith’s words, pushing the memories of the Arx Colosseum from his mind as he looked up to the enormous structure as they emerged from the tree line. “Looks like we won’t need to guess,” he said, pointing up at the castle before them. “That’s [INSERT SYNDICATE NAME HERE]’s castle.
The two speeders slowed to a stop as they approached the massive gates, the pilot in front passing a datapad to one of the many guards posted at the perimeter. Ellac and Azerith were too far to hear what they were saying as they inspected the shipment of ‘cargo’. Handing the datapad back to the pilot, the first guard waved his hand, signaling for the gate to be opened a moment before the two solid steel plates slid open just enough to allow the speeders to pass through.
“I’ve got a bad feeli-“ Azerith started as their speeder passed by a menacing looking guard.
“Don’t say it,” Ellac cut him off, looking up at the castle.
“Fine,” the Miralukan said with slight disappointment. “So what’s the plan?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Then what are we doing here?” Azerith asked as they drew nearer to their destination.
“**I** am here on assignment from my clan. **You** decided to follow us, so like it or not, you’re part this now.” Ellac said plainly. “So do me a favor, and don’t get yourself killed.”
Ellac and Azerith watched as the speeders pulled into a wide tunnel at the far side of the building that appeared to function as a loading bay both for outgoing and incoming shipments. Carrying the latter, the speeders pulled to the side, stopping before a door that seemed to lead deeper into the castle.
“Everybody out!” A burly red Twi’lek barked as he strode out from the doorway. Ellac guessed by the white and gold armor that he must be some kind of Captain. The young Sith hesitated a moment as Azerith stood to follow the rest of the ‘passengers’ as they slowly shuffled out of the vehicles. “Are you deaf? I said get out!” the Twi’lek said, signaling a nearby guard who climbed into the back of the speeder, grabbing Ellac by the neck as he shoved Azerith out of the vehicle.
The Miralukan crashed onto the stone ground, wincing as his shoulder softened his fall. “Easy tiger,” he chimed between coughs. Another guard jabbed him in the side with an electro-baton, causing Azerith to yelp in pain. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked up the guard with a grin. “I’m *shocked*. Is this how you treat your guests?” **ZAP!** Azerith yelped again as the guard pulled him to his feet. “Worth it,” he choked out as the guard pushed him through the door.
“You wanna play wise-guy too?” The guard snarled at Ellac, tightening his grip around the young Sith’s throat. Ellac grimaced as he reached for his lightsaber, his bound hands finding nothing but his empty belt. ‘*Great.*’ he thought as the guard threw him to the ground, knocking the air from his lungs as the back of his head hit the stone, his head throbbing as his vision turned grey. A few more nearby guards came and grabbed Ellac by his arms as they dragged him inside.
Ellac’s eye strained as he tried to take in the room, his sight still spinning from the impact. It looked to be a staging area for their cargo, with variously sized crates stacked against to one side of the room..
“Backs to the wall, all of you!” the Twi’lek shouted, following after Ellac.
Spirit’s broken, the slaves slowly turned their backs to the crates like drones under a hivemind. The guards dragged Ellac to his feet as his head began to clear. Falling in line with the others, he noticed Kah’ri was missing from the lineup. *‘Really?‘*
“Welcome to [INSERT SYNDICATE NAME HERE],” the Twi’lek interrupted his train of thought. “My name is Captain Tyba Da’iim. I will be your new master.” He sneered, baring his artificially sharpened teeth in a twisted grin. “Let me make something clear to you. You are not servants here, you are *slaves*. You have no value here aside from your usefulness to me. If you cannot obey the commands given to you, I will put an end your worthless lives, the only act of mercy any of you should expect to receive. Have I made myself clear?” he asked, the slaves answering his question with silence. “I’m glad we have an understanding,” Tyba said with a nod, turning to walk away as he told the guards to take them to their cell.
The guards pushed the slaves into the hallway outside of the cargo area, they natural glow of the evening sky being replaced with the artificial lights inside the castle. Ellac squinted as the guards led them through the hallway, the polished prismatic floors throwing the light back up at him. Finally arriving at their the new living space, Ellac recognized multiple races of some of the prisoners who had experienced the misfortune of meeting Captain Tyba before he did. The guards pushed them forward, despite there being multiple empty cells, and forced them all into one wider cell at the far corner of the hall. “Enjoy your stay!” one of the guards taunted as the closed the door behind them. As soon as the the door had been locked, the slaves stun cuffs fell from their wrists.
“Very hygienic,” a bruised Azerith said, inspecting their new living situation. “At least it’s roomy.”
Ellac nodded, rubbing his wrists as he joined Azerith in examining the cell. It looked to be considerably bigger than the neighboring cells, but with about a dozen slaves all together, any thought of privacy quickly became a distant memory. “The sooner we get this done, the better.” Ellac said.
“Any ideas?”
Ellac grit his teeth as he remembered that Kah’ri had disappeared. “No, not yet.”
“Well, we need to figure something out, ‘cause some of the slaves from the other speeder are looking at us like we’re ‘entertainers’ in a cantina.”
Ellac shook his head at Azerith as he glanced over at the other slaves. However odd his expression, he was right about them staring. A particularly beefy Duros made no effort to avert his eyes as they locked with Ellac’s.
“So what now?” Azerith asked, drawing Ellac’s attention back from the other slaves.
“I don’t know,” Ellac said, leaning against one of the walls of the cell as he stuck his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the tip of a vial before he pulled it out to inspect it. “What is this?” Ellac stared at the small vial of clear liquid that had been placed in his pocket.
“Where’d that come from?” Azerith asked in a hushed voice, noticing the vial.
“It looks like…” Ellac stopped for a moment as he twisted the cap open just enough to smell its contents. “…Poison,” he continued. “No doubt belonging to Sykes.”
“Why do you have it then?”
“Well, knowing my master, it’s some kind of test,” Ellac said, turning the vial in his hand.
“What kind of test?” Azerith asked.
“The kind where failure isn’t an option,” the young Sith said, his eye staying fixated on the vial “This is likely a ‘gift’ intended for someone important here, in which case my job is to make sure they get it.” Ellac looked up at the locked cell door, instinctively reached for his lightsaber before realizing again that Sykes had confiscated his gear.
Azerith grinned again as he felt Ellac’s rising tension. “Don’t worry about the door. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” he said, patting Ellac on the shoulder as he eyed the Duros again. “Oi, Muscles! You want to help us get out of this cell?”
Standing from his spot on the ground, the Duros walked over to Azerith, cracking his knuckles in the typical tough-guy routine. “No point in tryin’. They’ll kill us all before we leave the cell block.”
“Well, better to die free than to die a slave, right?” Azerith chimed.
“I’d rather not die at all,” the Duros said, turning back towards the other slaves in the cell.
Azerith’s cocked his head as he reached into the Duros’ mind with the Force, a hint of a mischief creeping onto his face. “So you’d leave your wife and daughter to fend for themselves? You’d rather slink back into your corner with the rest of these cowards than see your family again?”
The Duros spun on his heel as he grabbed the Miralukan by the throat, as he brought their faces close together. “How do you know about my family?”
“That’s not all I know, Lithmar.” Azerith’s grin widened, even as the Duros tightened his grip.
“How do you know my name? Who are you?!?”
“I’m the man offering you a chance to win back your freedom.”
Lithmar maintained his grip as he stared at Azerith’s face. “A chance? That’s all you’ve got? A *chance*?”
Ellac’s frustrating grew to anger as he lifted his hand towards the Duros for a moment, wrapping the Force around his neck as if it were his own fingers as Lithmar began to cough and wheeze, his own grip on Azerith loosening. “Would you rather see what **I** have to offer you?” Ellac spat at the Duros. “Take a moment to consider that you’re not locked in a cell with those guards. You’re locked in here with *me*, and I will give you no such chance,” he said, Lithmar’s blue skin fading into a light shade of purple as his eyes began to bulge. “Now tell me, Duros, which would you prefer?” Ellac released his grip as he dragged his victim to the his knees.
Lithmar gasped as his windpipes opened again, sweat pouring from his domed head. “No more!,” he shrieked between breaths. “No more!”
“Good choice,” Ellac said, turning back towards Azerith who stood in a brief stunned silence at the young Sith’s rage.