I should have known better than to tempt Lady Fate, for though she was beautiful, she was terrible in her beauty, and known to take confident statements of security as an invitation to cause me as much trouble as possible…which, given the situation I was in, was quite a bit.
"Hmm, you must be the little one's leash holder. Overseer Harkun told me about you." Inquisitor Arzanon greeted me with a scrutinizing stare, giving Kory barely a glance, folding his hands behind his back as his subordinate (couldn't remember her name, and frankly didn't care) scanned a group of shackled acolytes with some manner of device. "Acolyte Kory is assigned to assist me in hunting a group of heretical, traitorous acolytes. You are not permitted to interfere. You may not help her, protect her, 'happen across' her fighting any traitors disinclined to submitting to the Inquisition, or anything of the sort. In fact, I am going to watch you take one of those aircars into the Wilds for your next Trial, and I had better not see you for the rest of the day."
"Inquisitor, you wound me. I'm offended by the implication that I would manipulate the trials of another acolyte in an untoward way." I responded with a moue of disappointment and dismay. "Inquisitor Harkun simply has a grudge against me because I stopped him from getting an innocent pureblood acolyte slaughtered by an angry Lord Zash. I would have thought such patriotism would be appreciated, not bring this sort of unjustified suspicion."
"None of that is relevant to me, nor do I care. The request was to ensure Acolyte Kory received no assistance from you whatsoever, and I see little reason to deny his request. Your very nature makes you suspect, and while Darth Marr seems inclined to allow you here, it is my responsibility and duty to mistrust you until you proof yourself worthy." He flapped a hand in dismissal both of my words and my presence, and I huffed softly in aggravation before turning my attention to my Kory.
"Be careful, Kory. We've been working hard, but I'm sure I don't have to explain to you what someone who is cornered will do, especially not when the other option is the Inquisition getting their hands on them. Be as subtle as you can, and call on nearby loyal acolytes for help if needed." I instructed her, and she nodded hesitantly before opening her mouth, a swirl of emotions in her presence, and I put my finger on her lips. "I don't want to hear some sort of romantic expression of gratitude, some sort of emotional preparation to say good-bye. You will survive, you will return here, you will wait for me victorious? I will not permit you to die, you are not permitted to leave me. Do you understand me?"
"…yes, ma'am." She yielded, nodding in acceptance of my demand, warmth kindling in her heart at my continuing determination to protect her. After a moment, she leaned up and pressed her lips against my own in a long, lingering kiss, before squaring her shoulders and marching up to the Inquisitor, inclining her head respectfully. "Give me my trial, Inquisitor. I'm ready to succeed."
I didn't linger any further, not wanting to aggravate the Inquisitor, instead making my way over to the waiting air-car and sliding in for the flight to the Lower Wilds. A flight that took considerably longer than it did in the game, perhaps unsurprisingly, and to my consternation this reality didn't seem inclined to take me directly to the landing pad near Lord Renning, instead depositing me in the northern end of the valley like the game had done when it was first released. Which meant I would have to fight my way to Renning and Malora, and then fight my way to the Tomb of Marka Ragnos from there.
How annoying.
"Ho there, acolyte!" a voice called almost the instant that I disembarked, and I looked across the landing pad to see another acolyte flagging me down. Frowning, wondering if I had forgotten something important from the game, I cautiously made my way over to him. "Acolyte Krevan, of Lord Veracen's pool."
"Acolyte Khai, Darth Zash." I returned the greeting, such as it was, with semi-comfortable familiarity. I had quickly learned, as I had interacted more and more with my fellow acolytes since arriving here, that it was considered standard behavior to introduce yourself by surname and by the name of the Lord you were trying to earn the favor of. Apparently, it helped cut down on backstabbing, since it helped rivals avoid (or find, on occasion) those that were more directly in competition with them. An oddly sensible system, for the Sith.
"Well met. Listen, Lord Veracen is running low on acolytes, and lower on temper and patience. Help me get back through the valley and cover me while I collect some bone marrow from the tuk'ata, and there's three hundred credits with your name on them." He offered without a moment of hesitation, and I didn't hesitate to accept. It was no skin off my nose, I was heading that way anyway, and three hundred credits (while, admittedly, nothing compared to the money I had through my Nicky) was certainly nothing to sneer at.
I had to give Krevan due credit, I realized quickly. For all that his goal was to get himself safely into a laboratory for the Sphere of Biotic Sciences, where he wouldn't have to bother with all of that fighting nonsense interrupting his experiments (his words, not mine), he was a very competent fighter. Then again, if he had survived this long in the acolyte pool for the man that was Renning's partner in his insane and fruitless experiments, some competency was probably a requirement.
"Malora, that is Lord Renning's apprentice by the way, might have something for you to do as well. Renning likes to keep her close, so she likely has tasks she needs completed that she hasn't been able to deal with herself in the brief times she can get away." He told me about halfway through the trek, uncaring of the blood spraying across him or the brain-tearing, high-pitched whine that the marrow extractor made as it messily bored its way into the tuk'ata's thigh bone.
I had to wonder at his phrasing. In the game, Malora had been pretty damn upfront about how unhappy she was under Renning's 'guidance', but this was reality, not a game. Not to mention the fact that in the game, you were a total stranger who was passing bye, not (like Krevan was) a well known and close at hand coworker. Then again, the fact that she likely did know Krevan well could quite easily explain why she might gripe to him to begin with. And he was only an acolyte, so she probably figured she could kill him if she had to. Pragmatic to a fault, was our Malora.
"Well, as long as whatever she needs my help with doesn't interfere with my own tasks and trials, I am certainly willing to hear her out. A few extra credits is always nice, and who knows what else she can offer." I responded, before pausing thoughtfully. "Is she pretty?"
"Is she…? Really, Khai, is that your focus? How pretty she is?" he asked me, incredulous, and I shrugged shamelessly, making a waving gesture with my right hand, silently urging him to answer, and he rolled his eyes. "Pretty enough, I suppose. It's hard for anyone to look 'pretty' after a few weeks camping out down here in the wilds."
"Hmm. Interesting. Always nice to help a pretty girl, especially a fellow Sith. They're so creative." I mused thoughtfully as we started walking again, ignoring his muttering as he followed after me. I had no intention of making Malora one of mine in the long-term, neither as a constant bed-mate and submissive plaything like Kory nor a bride like Lana, but that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy myself and experiment a little while I was here.
Besides, it might be fun to indulge a little in more 'Sithy' behavior than I was usually wont to do. I may not be a cackling maniac, or remotely interested in eating the galaxy, but I certainly wasn't a particularly pure-hearted person either. Some fun and games with someone I would likely never see again seemed like a fun diversion from the stresses of Korriban.
And if she did get a little addicted, well, she did become somewhat useful later on in the game, didn't she? So it was hardly a bad thing if she became a bit more pliable to my desires or suggestions when the time came.
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Malora, apprentice to the thoroughly insane Lord Renning, was wondering why she had ever agreed to being this babbling lunatic's apprentice. It wasn't like he had been the only man offering to take her under his wing, and some of the others had at least been decent-looking. Instead, she not only had stopped learning anything particularly useful months ago, but the fat bastard still fucked her whenever he felt particularly 'inspired' or 'successful'.
Getting fucked by their master, or lent out, or by a ranking Imperial or more powerful apprentice…that was all something that any Sith was familiar with. It was nothing more than another expression of power, of influence and strength, and the wisest learned how to wield those circumstances deftly enough to turn the tables. To rise above those using them and use the users instead.
Unfortunately, none of that applied because the man using her was fucking useless! She gained nothing from letting his filthy cock inside of her, and the chances she had for a more enjoyable encounter were rare. She wasn't desperate enough to take a tumble with someone too far beneath her standards, slim pickings or not, and most of the acolytes she saw were slim pickings indeed.
She just needed to find a way to get away from Renning, as quickly as possible. Preferably with all of her limbs intact, but at this point she'd be willing to take a prosthetic or two if it would mean being able to actually advance her studies and delve deeper into her fields of interest.
She was drawn from her thoughts by a pulse in the Force, and she looked up to see a pair of acolytes rounding the corner of the ancient cliff-borne walls separating the Upper and Lower Valleys, a pile of freshly-made tuk'ata corpses behind them as they headed straight for her master's little encampment. Well, that was nice. Renning would have demanded she capture or kill the beasts within the next few hours anyway, to make sure that the 'unmodified vermin' couldn't get near his experiments.
One of them was Veracen's likely future apprentice, Krevan. Competant enough, but narrow-minded. In the face of Renning's madness, and Veracen's willingness to play along with it, he had become sadly conservative in his visions of the future and experimentation. Unlike she herself, who was more than willing -eager, even- to explore the unknown and the esoteric, much like their masters, but simply unwilling to throw good credits after bad.
Pressing when the answers grew hazy was one thing, obsessing over a fruitless branch of research was entirely another.
At any rate, whoever his new friend was, she seemed competent, and was practically roiling with Force energy. One of the slave acolytes, Malora would wager, given her clothing, though she was certainly both more beautiful and more powerful than the others that she had encountered since Darth Marr had instituted the new program. Better trained too, and more naturally talented, that much was obvious from her gait and bearing. She had poise, she had grace, things that slaves were not particularly famed for.
The stranger and Krevan exchanged a few words before splitting up, Krevan hastening to deliver a handful of samples to Veracen while the stranger headed for Renning, who was once again practically cooing over the corpse of one of his experiements. Insane fat fuck.
"Welcome back, Krevan. Interesting new friend you've found. A free fuck from a slave acolyte during a trial? Tsk, tsk." She mocked lightly as the man in question approached her, having been shoed away from the equipment-laden tables as Veracen set about preparing the samples for analysis.
"Not bloody likely." Krevan scoffed immediately, shaking his head as he leaned against one of the (thankfully empty) cages beside her, watching the stranger speak with Renning. "Not that she is pretty, you understand, but I'd rather not wake up with a slit throat. And rumor has it she's more than just a woman, if you take my meaning."
"I don't, given I don't get to involve myself in the gossip nearly as much as you do." Malora responded dryly, though she couldn't deny a bit of curiosity. Krevan was hardly different from most Sith, men especially, and rarely resisted the opportunity to get his dick wet.
"That's Vestara Khai, from Zash's pool." He said, as if it explained everything, and he clearly had expected it to as well, judging by his tone and expression. When she didn't respond, simply staring at him with an arched eyebrow, he groaned in exasperation and ran a hand over his face. "Vestara Khai? The slave that led a rebellion on Dromuund Kaas? Impressed Darth Marr enough that he sent her here? Has made one of the other acolytes in her pool into her pet? Apparently has a cock created by Sith Alchemy that can put any natural man to shame? Does none of this ring a bell for you?"
"Only vaguely. I knew that there was something different about one or two of the slave acolytes, and I knew Darth Marr was paying particular attention to things, but nothing more than that. I didn't consider it remarkable, given Darth Marr is the one that started the program." She responded, shrugging lightly, eying the silver-haired acolyte with rather more interest than she had not minutes earlier. She certainly sounded interesting, and Krevan had only indicated that he was unsure about Khai's supposed cock, of all the things he had claimed about her, which was interesting. "She any good?"
"Deadly, powerful. Seems to know what she's doing, though it's still fairly obvious that she didn't receive comprehensive basic training before being sent here. If I had to guess, she knows what she had to figure out for her rebellion, and everything else has only been studied or learned since she got here." He answered, before straightening up as Khai turned towards them and started to approach. "Told her you might need her help with a few things. She might be as useful to you as she was to me."
"Can I help you with something, acolyte?" she asked once she was in ear shot, and she couldn't help but smirk at the way she blatantly looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her breasts. She wasn't wearing the most flattering of outfits, of course, given the environment and the circumstances, but she knew that she looked good, and it was apparent that Khai agreed with her. Good, that would make her more pliable.
She barely noticed as Krevan huffed under his breath and ambled off towards the camp's food supplies.
"Oh, I imagine that there are many things that you and I can help one another with, apprentice." Khai responded with a low rumble, eyes dark with interest as she inspected her again, and Malora cocked a hip out, feeling heat kindling in her core as the acolyte's eyes zeroed in on her. Then she sighed heavily, visibly disappointed. "Unfortunately, I must make my way into the Tomb of Marka Ragnos, to retrieve a holocron from a monument there as part of my trials for Lord Zash."
Ohh, that was convenient, wasn't it? Not only was this acolyte the lustful sort, but she was heading in a convenient direction for Malora's own goals. They would definitely be able to reach some sort of arrangement, and for such a low price as well. Best not to appear to eager at the start, though…
"The Tomb of Marka Ragnos, you say?" she hummed folding her arms under her breasts (ever-so-coincidentally pushing them up) while nibbling on her bottom lip in a way that long practice had told her most men and women found alluring. "My Master was looking for someone to help him with something there. Speak with Lord Renning, than come back to me, hmm? There's quite the reward in store for you if you help me."
"Yes, he told me. A mutant tuk'ata, he said, that will reveal all the secrets of the Dark Side to him as he dissects it. Seems like a rather impressive claim to make, if you ask me, but then the Biotic Sciences are far from being my field of expertise." The acolyte confirmed, and Malora grinned internally as the woman's eyes slowly traced her body again. It had been quite some time since someone so blatantly and repeatedly took in her looks, and she was rather enjoying it.
"You mean my master is insane. I accepted apprenticeship under him because he was one of the foremost minds in The Sphere of Biotic Science, but since then he has become obsessed, fanatical, in his beliefs that he can somehow achieve perfect unity with the Dark Side by studying the brains of tuk'ata of all things." She responded bluntly, and the acolyte grimaced slightly, shooting a glance at first Renning, then Veracen, before stepping closer to respond.
"Yes. I would perhaps understand his beliefs more if it was a sinspawn or terentatek or something of the sort, but tuk'ata? I mean, I understand that they can supposedly sustain themselves on nothing but the Dark Side itself, but still…rank madness. What is your point?" she confirmed quietly, shaking her head in what seemed to be genuine bafflement, and she hummed for a moment.
"He wants you to bring him the brain of his latest experiment. Bring it to me first instead. I have been doing some research in my own time, experimentation, and have created a compound that will damage the brain in a way not immediately obvious. I will then report him to the Dark Council. He will be disposed of, my apprenticeship will be back on track, and his madness will not be harming the Empire any longer."
"Hmm…I hope that the satisfaction of protecting the Empire is not the reward you had in mind. Patriotism is all well and good, but you will forgive me for finding it an insufficient reason to risk angering a powerful Lord." Khai drawled, sounding skeptical to say the least, though she could catch a hint of awareness. The girl knew, or at least suspected, what it was she was willing to give her, but she wanted her to say it.
"Hardly. Your reward is me." She scoffed, gesturing to herself smugly and stepping closer, running her hands along her own curves slowly, as seductively as she could given their admittedly less-than-flattering cut. "Succeed, and you get a night with me. You can even bring along that other acolyte you're apparently tamed. I can teach you how to properly dominate a toy."
"A night? A single night, for the risks I will be taking." Khai scoffed, stepping closer and boldly reaching out to cup her sex through her clothes, and Malora couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the former slave's boldness. "No, I don't think that's sufficient. From my return until one of us leaves Korriban, your ass is mine, and the rest of you while I'm at it. However I want you, whenever I want you, wherever I want you."
"Who do you think…" Malora started to scoff, only to squeal and be forced to grip Khai's arms to stay upright as the acolyte carefully, and in a way that made it clear she was well practiced in the act, channeled a low-level current of electricity right into her sex, stimulating her unprepared body, quickly and brutally bringing her to a knee-weakening orgasm that left her legs trembling.
"Who do I think I am? Vestara Khai is who I am, Malora, but I don't imagine you'll be using my name very much when we're together." The little bitch smirked at her, licking her slightly-stained fingers clean before patting Malora on the cheek and stepping away, leaving her struggling to keep her footing and steady her breathing. "Mmh, I so look forward to seeing you again. It will be fun to play with someone besides my Kory again."
With that she left, strolling with almost appalling confidence and a casual bearing towards the distant Tomb, whistling as if she was in a nature conservancy in Kaas City. Ignoring those around her, Malora delicately shuffled her way over to a crate and sat, biting back a moan as her sensitive folds were pressed against hard metal through damp clothes. Oh, she was going to punish that little cunt for this, and she was going to enjoy every second of it!
Running her right hand down her face, she settled in to plot her revenge, steadfastly ignoring the way she trembled and tingled, and resolutely refusing to speculate on what else Vestara Khai could do in bed. After all, such speculation was pointless when she was going to use the acolyte for nothing but her own pleasure.
…she had cum hard though, hadn't she?
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The mutant tuk'ata could wait until I got my hands on the holocron I was after, I decided almost immediately after leaving the slumped form of Malora behind me. With everything being 'real', I had absolutely no interest whatsoever in lugging around the freshly-removed brain of a tuk'ata while I was fighting my way through the tomb. Isolation container or not. It would slow me down, it would be vulnerable, it would be gross…I just didn't need that sort of hassle in my life just yet.
That determination didn't last long when I passed the portion of Ragnos' tomb that the mutant tuk'ata was sheltering in, because the entire approach to the side-section was littered with dismembered bodies of both the mechanical and organic nature. That, to me, spoke of the potential for the Sith Warrior to be present, and I needed to know what they were like. Whether they would be an ally to my cause, or someone I needed to eliminate quickly, because I would be damned if I let some raving lunatic get their hands on Vette and Jaesa.
It was time to sneak, and sneak is exactly what I did, drawing my vibrosword and slinking into the cool shadows of the antechamber's interior, passing more corpses as I went. Though I didn't want to prejudge too much, most of the bodies I was passing showed signs of what I would consider to be brutality. Especially the organic bodies, and the residue in the Force was unpleasant to say the least. No, I had a feeling that the Warrior was someone I would have to kill sooner rather than later.
Ten minutes later, I was proven right, as I watched the warrior kill The Beast of Marka Ragnos. He was a male pureblood, tall and broad shouldered, wielding his single warblade in a distinctly direct and brutal manner. More an axe or a hammer than a blade, the way he used it, and the feelings he was radiating into the Force were disgusting. I could feel his delight, his pleasure, pouring off of him. Not at the battle, not at winning, but at the pain he was causing The Beast. He was deliberately dragging the fight out to cause it as much pain as possible, avoiding fatal blows to focus on crippling it instead, and I spat on the ground in contempt as I turned away and headed for the mutant.
I wasn't sure how yet, but that man wouldn't be leaving Korriban alive.
I didn't know who would replace him as Baras' apprentice, and I didn't care.
As I somewhat mechanically went about the various tasks required to get the brain for Malora (I certainly wasn't interested in back-tracking and encountering this fellow head-on without stacking the deck in my favor!), I considered how best to succeed at my new self-appointed mission.
Asking my ancestor for enough of a boost to deal with him was tempting, enormously tempting, but I wasn't foolish enough to believe that he would actually do it. Dealing with other acolytes was part of being on Korriban, part of the Trials, and the very fact that I would be going out of my way (at least at the moment) to confront and engage the Warrior would put the onus on me.
And, though I didn't want to admit it, I had more than a little pride tied up in the idea of beating the man by myself. Kallig was certainly right that I wouldn't amount to anything, would never achieve my goals and dreams, if I relied on him for everything the moment the going got tough.
The easiest thing to do would have been to ambush him while he was fighting The Beast, but that opportunity had already been lost by the time that I arrived on the scene. Which meant the next most convenient moment would be to ambush him while he and Vemrin were fighting at the end of the Trials. I might have Vette helping me at the time too, if she saw how the fighting went, or at least make her inclined to like me more if we met in the future.
Provided that whomever Baras replaced the Warrior with wasn't just as bad, but there was a limit to how much I could do, especially if I didn't want Baras to kill me for costing him a tool. Which he probably would, given his meticulous, ruthless actions during the Sith Warrior story. Quite frankly, the fact that the Warrior has survived his betrayal and been able to bring him down had been down more to luck and the Emperor's assistance than anything else.
Hmm, maybe I should introduce myself to Vette early? Drop by the prison and say hello? That sounded nice, a bit of flirting with a pretty twi'lek was a good way to cheer up. But whether I did or not, it would have to wait, because an acolyte-and-beast infested tomb awaited me, and a reluctant holocron as well. And I could actually call a holocron reluctant without it being strange, since the damn things usually had a semi-sentient imprint of their maker built into them.
Sighing, I headed for the far larger, central portion of the Tomb, eyeing the milling lunatics littering the sand-stained ruins around me. With the majority of them too far into their own heads to even notice my presence here, I was relatively confident in my ability to get past them. At least I didn't have to worry about the Tomb doing to my mind what it had done to theirs. Even if my own natural strength and nature in the Force wasn't sufficient to protect me, and I fully believed that it was, my ancestor would never permit it. Losing a fight or failing a trial was one thing, but allowing me to be turned into a mindless, howling madwoman puppeted by the long-dead? Unlikely, to say the least.
Unfortunately, the failed acolytes hiding inside the Tomb were considerably more sane than the soldiers and slaves outside. Well, not sane, perhaps. More in control of their own faculties, perhaps, is a better way to say it. Every cloud had a silver lining, however, and in this case there were two: first, they seemed as inclined to fight each other as they did any outsider, and there were quite a few less of them than there had been in the game.
It didn't take a pair of them long at all to notice me, and even less time for them to decide that they wanted me dead. Didn't even bother trying to figure out which Lord I served in an effort to supplant me or anything like that, just drew their weapons and attacked. They were good, far better than those from Spindrall's little bargain, but I was better than I had been then as well, and one of them was clearly the weaker and less talented of the two. It was she I targeted first, my blade humming through the air and crashing against hers in a relentless assault, occasionally hurling small bolts of lightning at her companion as he desperately tried to attack me.
No, not attack, but protect. He was trying to protect his companion from me, trying to intercede, to draw me away. He cared for her, on a level deep enough to risk himself, and I couldn't help but think of myself and Kory. It made me hesitate, for a moment, that realization, that comparison of our circumstances, that commonality between us, and I paid dearly for it as she made a desperate lunge and scored a gouging slash across my thigh. With a snarl of pain I lashed out with my free hand to grab her wrist, and she shrieked briefly as I channeled a fatal amount of electricity directly into her body.
Leaving her smoking, crisped corpse to collapse to the stone floor, I turned on her partner and advanced. Grief and rage fueled his blows as he charged, his weapon scouring the stone with every missed swing, but as much strength as his emotions gave him, his control suffered in lockstep. Fifteen exchanges later, I took his left arm off at the joint, elbowed him in the face, and decapitated him with a spinning backhand blow as he collapsed to his knees.
"You allowed your emotions to get the best of you." My ancestor remarked coolly, stepping out of the void beside me as I pulled out a kolto dispenser and began applying the healing gel to my injury. "You could have died, might still die when slowed by such an injury, because you allowed your focus to waver on the battlefield."
"I know!" I snapped, the Force lashing out and cracking the stone column beside him, and he gazed down at me in calm censure of my further lack of control. Take a deep, steadying breath, I continued with a voice of iron. "I know, ancestor. Believe me, I know, and I know what you'll say in response to this, but…when I looked at them. God, it was like looking at Kory and I. A stronger acolyte, one that probably could have finished the trials, if he had been willing to abandon his partner. It was like looking in a mirror, and it disturbed me, I admit."
"I warned you, did I not, of the danger in so stubbornly linking yourself to the weight your plaything represents? You protested my words, argued for the state of your mind and your soul in the face of abandoning her to her fate in order to succeed, but now you see the very cost I warned you of played out at your own hands." He said, confirming my prediction without hesitation or remorse, turning his attention to the bodies, and I felt a pulse in the Force. A ripple spread through the world, and in an instant it wasn't the two unnamed acolytes lying dead before me, but Kory and myself. Our bodies broken, flesh torn and scorched and flayed, and I could see all to easily that 'I' had died in a futile attempt to protect my weaker partner. With a brief flurry of invective, I pulsed the Force in return, tearing the illusion apart as I turned a fulminating glare onto my ancestor. Unperturbed, he spoke again. "Will you so easily risk such a result for your plaything? You allow your heart, and I will give you the credit of admitting it is indeed your heart and not your loins, to lead you? Or will you allow your head to do so? Wisdom or desire, lust or intelligence?"
"I am stronger than they were, better trained then they were, more determined than they were!" I retorted, tossing aside the spent dispenser and turning towards the stairway leading deeper into the tomb. "I won't fail where they did, because I have more to lose than just my own life, or Kory's life. I have a cause, a purpose, and that gives me greater strength than survival alone can offer."
"There is truth in that." He agreed as I walked away, voice solemn, almost sad. "But do not forget that no cause, no matter how righteous, how devotedly pursued, can overcome every obstacle."
I felt his presence vanish again, his piece said, and I descended the staircase like a thunderstorm. He might be right, he might be wrong, but if there was one thing I knew, it was that I wouldn't die here. I was going to retrieve that holocron, and God help anyone that tried to stop me, because I was disinclined to tolerate such interference.
Kory was waiting for me. Vette and Jaesa and Lana and Nicky and Kela and many more were all waiting for me, whether they knew it or not, and I wouldn't fail here. The future of this galaxy would be shaped by my hands and will alone.