Something new I've been wanted to do is write some SWTOR based fanfics about my characters. I started with Maylstrom because she is close to my heart and I feel like I have the best grasp on her character. Hope you guys enjoy it, and if you do, I'll write more!
I could feel the mist on my skin though the dark was complete. No light reached me, and only through the Force did I know I was deep underground and in a large room. Caverns and caves felt different from constructed spaces, and as I extended thin fingers of the force outward I encountered objects but not walls . The mist curled around my wrist sending bumps up my arm and a shiver down my spine. I briefly considered using the force to alleviate the damp cold but the terrible sense that something was wrong put me on alert and flung my senses in hyperdrive. My skin tingled as the force whelmed out of me like a cup overflowing. I noticed then that I felt, bigger. I couldn’t see anything, but my presence was giant. Taking a tentative foot forward I felt carried rather than responsible for the motion.
As I moved forward my hand remained behind me. It was as if something held my wrist and had remained standing still. That something tightened. Icy ribbons snaked across my flesh, circling and squeezing like Quicksilver Eels on Mon Calamari. I pulled with my considerable strength, I could feel the bulk and power in the sinews and muscles under my skin. The only reward for my contrary efforts was new eels bursting into existence around my other wrist and chest. I was snapped sideways and taut, like the rigging on the pleasure watercraft rich denizens of the wealthy Republic planets played on during warm seasons. I was a sail, set upon by a sudden summer thunderstorm. My body shook with tremors of pain and my teeth ground together in a silent protest of screams. Once, twice, I fought off the cloudy blackness that creeped from the corners of my eyes and whispered the promise of merciful release. I grabbed the force inside me and wrestled it towards my fingertips, pushing back against the pain, numbing my screaming nerves. Taking a ragged breath I began to push the force out of me in a wave, hoping to at least catch my assailant by surprise. A stumble, a slight release, and a Sith could turn the tables. Instead of spilling from me, the force crashed against a steadfast wall. Eyes widening in shock the force slipped like water from my fingertips and waves of pain crashed in. Darkness consumed…
My eyes snapped open and I hastily swallowed the scream clawing up and out of my throat. I bolted up, struggling to sit forward but being deterred from full success by bound wrists. Panic broiled from my stomach and the force coursed through my veins, granting me a push of strength to wrench my arms free. Fabric ripped and far more easily than would have guessed I was released. Drawing my hands together in front of me I observed the pathetic tatters of lace scarves that had impeded me. As the force dissipated, I took in the room around me. The black Denebrillan silk sheets under me were damp with sweat yet familiar, and the faint grumblings of the capitol world filtered in even to my stronghold’s heights. With calm and clarity came memory. I now remembered who had tied me to my bedpost.
They were the mistress of an Arms Dealer from a Alderaan who was on Dromund Kaas looking to “expand his business in new markets” by selling to both sides. He hoped, from the large crates that had arrived with his mistress, that he could drop my name as one of his patrons. I really had no need for the gifts,but Adronikos would appreciate it and always knew how to show his gratitude. I had left explicit instructions with 2V-R8, as I ushered the Mistress upstairs, to move the crates to Andronikos’s rooms. If I left them out Treek would make his way into the boxes like a Loth cat and scurry them away to “make improvements” on them.
Favors such as these were always easy to grant, and I applauded the man’s savvy. I tucked his name neatly into the “may be useful” section of my memory. You could always count on an Arms Dealer get you what you needed; as long as you have the credits. And his relationship with the Republic military was something I might need one day. Knowing the Republic’s purchase history was the type of information that cost little, but made an impression with the Politicians. And while Politicians were easy to buy, Arms Dealers were cheaper and more loyal. Politics was a game I played as a pastime, my interest always fleeting. My life is games of life and death.
You can always count on Mistresses too… they’re always gone by the time I wake. By all rights, my grace and face would have sold me into a brothel as a dancer if I hadn’t been born with the Force. But seduction was still inevitably one of the first games I learned to play.
Like most my temporary playthings, they come in with fear. It’s stale and tastes of iron and worry. And though my cunning is my notorious trait not my temper, like some of my Sith brethren, if I often broke my toys I wouldn’t be given them so frequently. That fear of me outweighs the lengths they were willing to go to earn favor with a member of… well… someone like me, and it’s a dull time. But, if I want, I can make you forget who I am. Manipulation is an art and I’m a virtuoso. From the fear of the unknown, to burning desire, jubilant success, and then the fast fall. The taste of fear is my favorite aphrodisiac, and the benefit of the Dark Side is one is allowed vices.
Tying me up with their lace scarves in one of their common, simple games. Triumph had touched so briefly on their face as they straddled me upon finally gaining a position of dominance. Lured into false security after hours of pleasure and endorphins had left them sated and dull. The quick widening of their eyes and the roiling fear that sprang from them with renewed sweat on the brow as I squeezed their throat with the Force was the same I had felt in the nightmare.
Was it a nightmare though? It had felt wrong, and the viscous fear I had felt clung to my memory like oil. It was if I was somehow there but not there at all. Unease sat in my stomach and the short rest I had had and the nightmare, or vision, had chased the idea of returning to slumber away. In a fluid motion I swung my legs to the floor and crossed the polished tile to a freshly painted clothing unit. 2V-R8 had obviously been in here recently and I mused wiping his memory as I pulled a floor length shift dress over my head. Twin slits ran up the sides to high up the thigh and the fabric was soft and stretched willingly in the pure black that I preferred. I was vain in many ways, whether another vice or primal motivation I had yet to decide, and shades of black looked the best against the deep crimson of my skin. Twitching my middle finger towards myself summoned a gold flash from the corner of the room into my waiting hands. With deft practice I clasped the gold collar around my throat. A second twitch of my finger brought my lightsaber to my eager fingertips from under the pillows on my bed. The unease hadn’t left me, and I knew I would need it close to me in the coming day.
The first hints of dawn streamed into my windows as it peaked through the other high rises. Long strides carried me from my bedroom and and towards the staircase that led to the rest of the stronghold. Extending my feelings outward I felt for who was home. I found Treek first, she was excited and her energy burned like a bright flame. When I encountered Andronikos’s tired but bemused mood next I could figure out why. He had taken a liking to the furball early on, who said smugglers and mercenaries don’t have hearts. Obviously he was sharing the fruits of my “labor”. As I reached the staircase doors, they slid open to reveal a worried looking droid. Recently 2V-R8 had taken up wringing his hands as a visual queue for his displeasure. It looked ridiculous, but it kept him from chattering incessantly.
“Out with it,” I snapped more harshly than I intended as a product of my growing unease.
“My Lord...you see...it’s just that... I wasn’t sure whether to wake you with your guest.”
I took a deep breath and forced down the simmering anger. “My guest is gone now. Just tell me, Vrate.”
“Masters Khem Val and Xalek did not report as instructed last night,” he said in his synthesized voice and clicking cogs into place in my mind. “They should have sent an encoded message last night as part of the schedule. When I hadn’t received the packet after 6 standard hours I commed the ship but there was no answer. I’ve tried every hour and still no response. I thought that..” he cut off as I swept past him and down the staircase.
“My Lord! Should I continue to try and contact the ship?!”
I ignored him as I sprung two steps at a time down the staircase. That explained why the Force had hit the brick wall when I tried to use it to attack in my vision, I had been witnessing it all from inside Khem’s mind. Anger gripped me as I reached the bottom of the staircase and stalked down the hallway. My oldest friend was missing and in pain. Khem had tested me and fought beside me since I was just an apprentice, tearing souls from bodies for his unquenchable hunger. I always knew I would rise high, but he was one of the first to see it too.
As I neared Andronikos’s rooms, Treek’s chattering and his laughs filtered down the hallway. The lights streamed into the hallway from a room on the left I was drawing up to and I knew Lokin was awake. The old sleep as little as Sith do.
“Doctor, with me,” I barked as I strode past. The old were also notorious for napping at their desks. Old, brilliant, doctors especially. It was only a few moments before I felt him enter the hallway behind me though.
When I entered Andronikos’s room two sets of eyes looked up sheepishly at me. Treek quickly hid both hands behind her back and began grinding the ball of her foot into the ground attempting to look innocent. Never let an Ewok play Sabbac. Andronikos was sitting on the floor amongst an array of slick looking weapons in various states of wholeness. His mouth quickly turned into a wolfish grin and he opened it to express his gratitude, stress had heightened my senses and I could feel it coming off him in waves, but I silenced him with an upraised finger and an arched eyebrow. Lokin was just reaching the room and 2V-R8 had finally reached the bottom of the stairs and was shuffling down the hallway with his arms sawing back and forth. I made room for Lokin near the entrance and began talking as he settled into stillness with one arm crossed in front of him and his chin resting on his other fist.
“Khem Val and Xalek are missing. Most likely they are captured or injured. I had a vision.”
“On Belkaden? Did they find what you were looking for?” Andronikos’s mind began to whir into action as he rose from the floor. “How do you know?”
“The Force. I had a vision. Vrate told me Khem and Xalek had missed their comm schedule also.”
“They are alive though?” Lokin asked as 2V-R8 entered the room and began to wring his hands.
“I can still feel them, yes. They missed their comm in nine hours ago.”
“Choke me with a Jawa!” Andronikos cursed as he rounded on 2V-R8. “Why didn’t you report this to me then Vrate! I should have known as soon as they missed their comm!”
2V-R8 began to wring his hands with a speed a human would be pressed to match. “She isn’t to be disturbed with those types of guests,” he explained. “What if they had only been late?”
I was sure he was referring to the single instance I had tossed him bodily out of the room with the Force. I had been convincing the prince of a small, but wealthy, planet where they hated droids to let me station a rapid response team there. I was successful.
“You tell ME next time then.” Andronikos jammed his thumb to his chest. “Then I’ll decide if it’s worth disturbing her. Based on what I spy from the doorway at least.” Not even a crisis could kill his sense of humor.
My mind began to spin as the others began to fire questions over the mission particulars. “Vrate, call Ashara back from Nar Shadaa. Inform her she is to stand in for my at my appointments here. Pads up in 45.
Lets make sure we’re prepared.” I added after a pause.
Treek and Lokin both left the room mumbling to themselves about what to bring and Andronikos came to stand, arms folded, in front of me. “What exactly were they looking for May?” He has the only one who knew me well enough to not fear calling me that.
“I’m not even sure. My penchant for ancient artifacts is well known. It was just another rumour, and most turn out to be wild mynock chases. But Khem has a nose for these things, I gave him a list of half a dozen promising leads to check.”
I had felt Khem getting restless in the calm after defeating Revan. He had a habit of stalking back and forth through the balcony stone garden if we stayed on Kaas too long. A long hunt was what I thought would be good for him. Did I send him to his doom? Before he left he had taken me aside and looked down into my eyes with respect.
Something approaches Devourer. I will bring you back a weapon to fight the coming storm. Together we shall feast.
I knew this wasn’t that something, in my bones that worry was far enough away to merely be an ache, but I needed him by my side when that something happened.