Star Wars: Slave Of Darkness

After the slave girl had left, I hadn't done much. Just sat, stared at a wall, and allowed my mind to wander.

How long had it been since I'd had so much as a simple soak in the tub? In an actual tub with warm water and actual soap?

Two years, I think. I had used sonic showers now and again, but it never really made me feel clean.

It was amazing how relaxed one felt with just some warm water, nevermind the feeling of being freed of dirt and grime.

Everything still hurt and I was still bone-tired, but it was…less than it was. I felt a little more human.

A cool wind hit my burned eyes as the air conditioning kicked in, stinging them a bit. With a sigh, I drew my bag to my hands with the Force and fished out fresh bandages. Best to take care of that now before I forgot.

Seeing only through the Force was still something I was getting used to. I'd used it for long periods of time before…but not for days at a time. Hours, at longest.

Contrary to what I had told the slave, whose name I hadn't thought to ask, I couldn't actually see through walls. The real answer was a bit more complicated.

This different kind of sight was so…alien, for lack of a better term. Not only could I not perceive color, but I had to mentally process how it worked to make it work.

What I was seeing was the flow of energy as it interacted with the world. The walls were made of durasteel and other non-living materials, all dead to the Force. Rather than seeing the wall itself, I could see the grooves and details that the Force seeped into before flowing around them.

A good comparison would be a river flowing around a stone. Like the stone, the Force flows around the wall, but does not go through it. By concentrating, I could follow the flow of the "river" to see what was on the other side of the "stone."

So rather than see through a wall, I could see around a wall. In truth, it was semantics as it accomplished the same end.

But with the Force, semantics were important.

This trick wasn't something I could do on Korriban, a difference that I'd noticed only after landing on Dromund Fels. There, everything was suffused with the Force, down to the smallest pebble. I would have had more success with seeing through a wall by physically walking around it. It had been only marginally better than my regular sight.

However, for all the advantages, I was eager to get my normal sight back. Maintaining the Force Sight at all times was distracting and mentally exhausting. All in all, it was only barely worth avoiding complete blindness.

The Force as I saw it wasn't a homogenous whole, but multiple chaotic currents flowing in different directions and illuminating the blackness with different shades of blue and white. 

My human brain, hardwired for pattern recognition and focusing on moving objects, kept trying to instinctively follow each individual current at the same time. However, it would get confused and hop back and forth between them.

Simply put, my brain simply wasn't structured to process this kind of sight with anything approaching efficiency. It was a square peg, round hole scenario, only I was trying to jam the peg through with a hammer.

In other words, it was possible, but painful.

Also, I knew that using Force Sight too much had its risks. There weren't many outside of the Miraluka that extensively employed the power, but there was a notable example.

Kreia's eyes had atrophied as she increasingly relied on Force Sight. The more she used Force Sight, the worse her eyesight became. The more her eyesight degraded, the more she used Force Sight. It was a vicious cycle.

The human brain was adaptable, but it couldn't make something from nothing. The centers focused on processing sight had likely adapted to her new vision, replacing what she had been born with over time.

As I finished securing the new bandages over my eyes, there was a chime at my door followed by the voice of an older man.

"Milord, are you in there? It is Korvas…the butler?"

For split-second, I sympathized with the typical Sith knee-jerk reaction to simply strangle whatever annoyed them.

I thought about just ignoring him. I was tired and just wanted to be left alone for a while.

But…I thought for a moment, considering what would happen if I did.

I had had some fun earlier, but now I wanted things to settle. If the butler couldn't find me, he'd likely cause a ruckus and get everyone scurrying around searching, which would make even more noise and chaos to stir the currents of the Force.

I could sense a hint of nervousness on the other side of the door, hidden behind several walls. An understandable reaction to dealing with Sith, but an inconvenient one at the moment.

"Milord?" The butler called again.

"I'm here." I finally replied before pulling a vambrace and a cloth to my hand. Might as well be productive for a few minutes. There may have been a hint of testiness in my voice, courtesy of my pounding headache, "Come in."

The door hissed open as I started to dig sand out of the grooves of the metal. What stepped through to meet me was…surprisingly ordinary. Just a middle-aged man with a bit of a paunch, a slightly receding hairline, and dressed in what I would assume was tasteful clothing by Imperial standards.

I could feel the buzz of electricity flowing through circuitry originating from several devices he was carrying, most notably from a small datapad in the interior pocket of his coat, but nothing else. He wasn't even armed.

Was it bad that I was slightly disappointed that this was the head butler to a lord of the Dark Council?

Yes. Yes it was.

I quickly shoved the feeling of disappointment aside. Making assumptions based on appearance was a good way to get killed. After all, there were plenty of ways to disguise one's appearance without electronics and to hide a Force presence. For all I knew, he was actually one of the deadliest assassins in the Empire masquerading as a butler.

The butler and possible assassin cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back, a show to hide the possibly faked nervousness wafting off him.

"Milord, allow me to be the first to offer you an apology on behalf of the staff. Had we realized that you had arrived, we would have had a proper welcome prepared for you, rather than leaving you to be attended to by just a lowly slave."

"That was intentional." I stated simply. I had no patience for being clever with my answers right now. The sooner this conversation ended, the sooner I could go to sleep.

"I am not here to be pampered."

"Of course, milord." The butler…Korvas…agreed instantly, though his presence in the Force gave away a different feeling. He was a man used to accommodating the whims of the Sith, "Should that change, the staff will be available to assist at any time of the day."

Truth be told, I was uncomfortable with all this…opulence. Even before the academy, before the mines, my preferred tastes could be best described as "spartan." I'd never felt particularly drawn towards extravagance. At best, I kept around a few heirlooms, pictures of my ancestors, and some paintings made by my grandmother back in the 1950s.

Not to mention the concept of being waited on hand and foot…

I scowled at the vambrace in my hand, an action hidden by my bandages.

A few flecks of sand had gotten down into the crevice I had been cleaning, too far to reach with the rag. I didn't want to seal up the scratch with the irritating substance still inside. It was a small thing, but I didn't know if the Force-infused sand would disrupt the alchemical enhancements. Best not to find out.

I contemplated trying to track down a can of compressed air to blow it out…but then I remembered I had the Force. With a thought, the grains were removed and dropped on the floor.

Stupid tired brain.

I was scrubbing the vambrace for a minute or two before the shuffle of shoes on carpet drew my attention.

The butler was still here. Guess I didn't imply hard enough that I wanted to be left alone.

Wait.

Quickly, I mentally reviewed what I had said…and realized that I actually hadn't implied that at all.

Damn.

Trying to remember how to people was a pain in the ass when I haven't slept in...five days? Eight?

Somewhere around there, I was sure.

I took a moment to reorganize my thoughts in light of that, restraining the irritated and exhausted part of myself that just wanted to throw lightning at him until he was a soot stain on the floor.

Remember Tesser, don't kill the help.

"Did Darth Rictus forward any instructions as to what I am supposed to do in his absence?" I bluntly asked, changing the subject with the subtlety of a freight train.

Korvas cleared his throat awkwardly, seemingly grateful that he was no longer standing silently in a room with a moody and potentially volatile Sith.

"Not as such, milord. Unless he gave you different instructions before your departure, I believe that he wishes you to use this time to recover from your Trials."

It could easily be misconstrued as magnanimy on the Sith Lord's part, but the truth was easy to see. He wanted his newest weapon fully functional before he tried to sharpen it. No point breaking what was already broken.

"Very well." I replied, "If I need anything, I will call."

This time, the butler took the dismissal for what it was, leaving me to clean my armor in peace. When the last of the sand was finally scrubbed off, I didn't even bother changing out of my new clothes before passing out on the bed.

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The first book of this fanfic has been completed on Patreon, you can look it up in the collection alongside the second book. You can visit Patreon if you want to read in Advance.

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