[FIC] The Dusk Lady

[Sabretooth]

Ah, finally a new project. The Dusk Lady is a concept I had for Javyar's Cantina, but it didn't pan out as I had expected, so I decided to release it separately. It is a 5-Episode Fiction that deals with the ever-enigmatic Dusk Lady. Setting in pre-KotOR, around the outbreak of the Mandalorian War, but it has hardly much to do anything about it.

 

I was planning on writing it all first and then posting, but then decided otherwise. I off on a vacation this Sunday, so I figured I'd leave you buds with a bang.

[Sabretooth]

Episode 1

 

“Please, my master. Give me pleasure.”

 

“Of course. Come here. Come now.”

 

 

Strapping her lightsaber into a holster on her belt, Carina slipped into her jogging shoes, which automatically clamped around her nimble feet. She picked up a dull grayish-brown cloak and drew it over her. Even Dantooine’s winter wasn’t too generous, as Carina had noticed the day before yesterday when she had decided to take a dip in the freezing Dash River.

 

It was evening on a Dantooine winter. While temperatures were generally warm, they weren’t altogether friendly all the time. But regardless of season, Dantooine presented an uncanny talent at preserving its natural beauty. With the calming breezes blowing past the tender grass, coated in a descending amber. The sun was about an hour away from setting, Carina noticed. She looked around the fields and traced an imaginary jogging path, across the rolling hills, over the bridge of the Dash River, down the old grove, through the rocky path where she often would sit lonely and then back finally to the old Jedi Academy, just in time for supper. Dusk is approaching, she thought. Time to move.

 

Jogging for a Jedi is not the normal definition of jogging. Jedi exercise as they jog, pushing their speeds as much as possible, but preventing velocities that could exhaust them. Attaining this perfect balance of maximum, yet comfortable speed was only a part of the Jedi’s never-ending quest for perfection and eternal harmony with the Force. Like some other Jedi, Carina ran with her eyes closed. She saw through the Force and that gave her some measure of strength. She felt as she were on a higher plane. As if she was running away from the worries and troubles of the world, away from the Light and the Dark Side. Away from the Mandalorians and their war. Away from her investigations. Away from it all.

 

 

“Come, my child. Come to me.”

 

“Yes, my master. What do you wish?”

 

“I wish for your pleasure. But as you know, you must do me a favour.”

 

“Anything, my master. Please…”

 

“A shadow approaches on ours. I need you to vanquish it.”

 

“Pleasure me, master. Give me your pleasure.”

 

“After you have performed my errand.”

 

 

Carina heard footsteps other than her own as she jogged. They were hard not be unnoticed, with a crushing of grass and an occasional cry of an iriaz once in a while. She didn’t bother opening her eyes. She knew who it was. “How go your investigations?” asked a familiar, masculine voice. She opened her eyes and looked at Vaerro on her left. Vaerro was fine Jedi, a gallant knight in shining armour. He stood six feet tall, broad shoulders and looks to die for. Being from the Mid-rim world of Sassloe, he had light blonde, almost white hair. His eyes were hazel coloured. He always had his trademark smile on his face, which creased it lesser than it would have most people. Vaerro was generous, straightforward and down-to-earth. While he was courageous and never backed down from a challenge, he was still human and susceptible to error.

 

“They’re all right. You know, I returned empty-handed as usual.” Carina answered.

 

Vaerro shrugged as they ran. “I didn’t think as much. She’s getting an excellent cover in the Mandalorian War.”

 

“I checked, by the way. She doesn’t have any connection with the Mandalorians, or any other underworld gang. She’s a loner.”

 

“A loner? She seems fairly popular.”

 

A slight smile, almost of nostalgia spread across Carina’s face. “Nobody really talks about her, even though everybody knows her,” she said, “they all talk in hushed whisper. Nobody talks loudly about… the Dusk Lady.”

 

“Why? Is she that fearsome?”

 

“Fearsome, definitely. Conceited, most likely. There are wild reports about her. Things like she has slaves that can kill for her. They say that when the Lady kills someone, he dies without anybody knowing it. Her agents are almost invisible. Perfectly camouflaged, both hypothetically and literally.”

 

Vaerro chuckled. “Sounds like a fairly magnanimous view of a petty underworld boss.”

 

“Whatever the case, the Dusk Lady is an expert at evasion. She has a way of not letting herself be seen. She covers her trails and makes misleading trails, and covers them up too. Tracing her is like finding a needle in a haystack.”

“Needles can jump of haystacks if you have the Force.” Vaerro commented.

“Sure, but this Lady. I think she must have been a Jedi, maybe even a Sith during Kun’s time. She can’t be that intelligent, that cunning and that clairvoyant without perceiving the Force.”

 

“You underestimate the non-Jedi. You always do. Like that waiter the other…”

 

“Where have you been in the past few weeks?” Carina asked, breaking Vaerro’s flow.

 

“Me? Well, I was in the core worlds. Running errands for the Masters.”

Something clicked in Carina’s mind. Something she had heard before, regarding the Dusk Lady. She had spent five months of the twelve allotted by the Council to investigate a mysterious personality only known as the Dusk Lady. She felt something incomprehensibly familiar, and sinister.

 

“Errands like what?” Carina asked, interrupting Vaerro.

 

“Errands… like messages, simple stuff, missions etc.”

 

“Just asking.” Carina continued running.

 

 

“We are being stalked. It is the Jedi.”

 

“Uh…”

 

“You will help me, won’t you? I am helping you. I am helping you bring meaning to your life. I am pleasuring you.”

 

“Goh… you are life, my Lady.”

 

“Good. Then you will leave now. Fear not, when you return, you shall receive the most blissful energy you have ever felt. You will be enamoured by my pleasure.”

 

“Uhh…”

 

 

“What’s so special about the Dusk Lady?” Vaerro asked, the conversation being dead for some five minutes.

 

“Ah, I haven’t told you that. You’ll love this.”

 

“Go on.” A smile broke out on his face.

 

“You see, the Dusk Lady is some sort of an alchemist. She can create drugs, potions, chemicals that alter the mind. But it’s not your usual spice – no! It’s special stuff, it’s… like a drug that induces voluntary slavery.”

 

“What the hell?” Vaerro said, almost breaking into a chuckle.

 

“Yeah, listen. It’s like, she gives her slaves a high and exploits them. It’s uncanny. Her slaves are like… lethal, invisible killers, all because of these drugs. Plus, these drugs create a mental shell around their victim. The victim doesn’t know he has an alter-ego, one that wants him to be pleasured by the Dusk Lady and do her bidding.”

 

“So… you could never guess who the victim is.”

 

“Never. I find it creepy. It’s like, the next person you know could be her victim.” Carina was looking for hints. She was feeling oddly suspicious about Vaerro. He had been out of touch with her for weeks.

 

“Pharmaceuticals, is it? I suppose she must be a key player in the spice rings.”

 

“Believe it or not, she does not contribute to the underworld as a whole. In fact, the only connection between her and the crime scene is knowledge. Nothing else.”

 

“But what’s her agenda?”

 

“Nobody knows that. And when we find that out, the Dusk Lady is revealed.”

“This can’t be the first time the Council has assigned an investigator on her tale.”

 

“Heh, after conversing with Master Vandar, I learnt that the Academy of Altusia and Coruscant sent their own detectives, who went missing. That is the reason my Masters want me completely hooked up with communications equipment, so that I can report from any corner of the galaxy.”

 

Both Carina and Vaerro took some time to digest that. The Mandalorian Wars and the ailing Republic had sapped all of the Order’s strength. The Dusk Lady had been investigated five and seven years ago respectively, but to no avail. There was nothing telling Carina that she would be successful. But something else was bothering her. There was something about the enigmatic Dusk Lady that she had not yet unveiled before Vaerro. This last piece of information, she had found when she was tipped off that the Dusk Lady does not take kindly to investigators. Her source, a part-time bartender had told her that the Dusk Lady was most likely a Jedi and many of her slaves (all whom are temporary) are Jedi.

 

Why she hid this fact, she did not know. She felt insecure telling this. She felt like she was not a part of the Jedi, and so didn’t want to alert them. It was a feeling she could not explain. She trusted Vaerro and still, she did not. There was something odd about him, something different. She did not want to think it loud, but she had a gut feeling that Vaerro was the Dusk Lady’s agent in the academy.

 

 

“Your equipment is stacked, your minds ordered and your ship ready. You must leave.”

 

“My lady…”

 

“Go. I will deliver you bliss once you return. And wear those clothes I gave you, you look disgusting in those Jedi Robes.”

 

“Ghuh… Lady…”

 

“Mmm. You will kill her.”

 

 

“Hey, Carina!” called a high-pitched voice as Carina jogged past a beleaguered oak tree. It was Klarenia, a twenty-two year old Jedi Knight, who looked and sounded half her age. She was an absolute extrovert, an entirely social person. Some would have thought she was timid or meek by her behaviour, but she was a true-blue Knight, and one with a flawless record.

Klarenia was supposedly from the planet of Klarenia. Residents of Klarenia often have a habit of naming their children on locations and Klarenia’s parents had adopted the planet’s name itself. She was called Klaren, to avoid confusion and to reduce the number of syllables.

 

Presently, Klaren came bounding from behind the tree, recklessly stamping over the grass towards Carina. While Klaren was considered “best-avoided”, nobody had any solid complaints about her and she was as good a friend as any, in fact, more so than most other overly enthusiastic extrovert Knights. Klaren locked her polished saber on her belt and started jogging alongside the two. She had a wee smile on her face throughout. “Just practicing my saber-swings, you know.” She answered a question that had not been asked.

“So what was that about the Dusk Lady?” she asked after a moments pause.

Carina and Vaerro were taken aback. The question had caught them unexpected. But Klaren was a friend, and despite her extremely social behaviour, they decided to trust her. After all, she was a Jedi and Jedi could keep secrets.

 

Carina told her everything she had told Vaerro, but held back the fact that she had hidden from Vaerro.

 

 

They jogged in silence for eleven entire minutes. That was a very difficult task with Klaren around. Carina noticed this and also the fact that Klaren seemed unusual taciturn today. Carina couldn’t explain why, but she also had her doubts on Klaren. Something was tugging in her mind, telling her that there was something odd with Klaren and Vaerro. Too many somethings.

After their two good hours of jogging, they had reached the apogee of the arc that Carina had mentally charted out before she had started jogging. It was the Cliff of the Amber Lake. The Amber Lake had been named so because it rightfully looked like a sprawling pool of honey in the sunset. And dusk had approached. A good portion of the sun’s disc had been severed by the horizon and the sun itself now looked like a burning hot piece of metal.

 

The three stopped and rested at the cliff, which was fairly barren of trees. The cliff’s face looked over the lake that gave it the name. The three sat and looked over, their faces thoughtfully staring at the lake. But tensest of all was Carina, who sat in the middle. The day and the walk had been peculiar. She had too many doubts about her companions. She almost knew that they were agents of the Dusk Lady. Her fears were not unfounded.

 

She had learnt that whovever chases the Lady, gets is killed. The blunt fact was known to few, but easily guessed by many. She was terrified at the prospect. Even a Jedi, no matter how hard she tried to escape fear, could never succeed in doing just that. Fear is universal. Paranoia is the son of fear, but equally fatal.

 

 

Twenty sullen minutes were spent at the Cliff. Nothing in particular was on Vaerro’s mind. He had noticed Klaren’s quietness, but he had not found that odd. Everybody is an introvert some time in his or her lives, he thought. Vaerro was more concerned about Carina’s silence. It was an odd silence, completely dissimilar to Klaren’s. Her sensed suspicion, paranoia and a questioning fear. Dangerous.

 

 

Klaren turned to Carina and Vaerro. What Carina had told her of the Dusk Lady was certainly scary. She knew why Carina was so grim. Nobody who had investigated the Dusk Lady had every returned. Carina had a right to be afraid. Vaerro was looking at the patch of grass near Klaren’s feet. He could be a good guardian, if Carina were attacked. A possible hindrance in an assassination attempt.

 

 

Carina got up alone. She took four steps toward the cliff face and turned around. She was a black shadow against a setting sun. Yet, her eyes seemed to blaze with fire.

 

“Which one of you?” she asked, every syllable lined by wrath.

 

Klaren and Vaerro only looked at each other, dumbfounded.

 

“One of you is here to assassinate me. One of you is the Dusk Lady’s slave.”

 

Now Klaren and Vaerro got up. “What the hell? You need rest.” Vaerro said.

 

“No. I know it. The Dusk Lady hires Jedi and I know one of you two is an assassin. The Force is telling me.”

 

Klaren and Vaerro were speechless. They only looked at each other in disbelief. Their attention was diverted back to Carina when she ignited her lightsaber. She was in a battle-ready position. Definitely dangerous.

 

Klaren and Vaerro ignited their own lightsabers. “Look, we’ll deal with this peacefully.” Klaren said, her lightsaber unwavering.

 

“No, no, no. Never. Not until I find out.” Carina answered. She took light steps forward.

 

“I must complete my duty.” She spoke, apparently in a trance. Vaerro signalled Klaren to flank Carina.

 

“I must follow my Master. I must find…” Carina’s voice trailed off. Her eyes were half-closed. Something struck Vaerro and her hoped it wasn’t the truth.

 

“I must find the shadow. I must find the interloper.” She now said. “My master will pleasure me.”

 

Carina dropped to her knees and Vaerro rushed to pick her up, followed by Klaren. Suddenly Carina sprung and swung at Vaerro, missed him and landed behind him, parallel to Klaren. She was repeating “My Master” over and over again. Vaerro was certain she had gone insane. He tried to use the Force to subdue her, but her trance was overpowering.

 

Suddenly, a smile broke on Klaren’s lips that spread to a grin. Vaerro did not notice it at first, his eyes were trained on Carina. Carina had turned to Klaren now. Her face was miserable and submissive. Just like a slave. It hadn’t taken long for Vaerro to find out that she was the Dusk Lady’s slave. It was obvious and a genius idea on the part of the Lady. It meant that she had programmed Carina to suicide. His heart swelled with hate towards the Dusk Lady.

 

Klaren’s blade evaporated and she took calm steps towards Carina, who was kneeling. She caressed Carina’s cheek, and Carina almost spasmed in joy. Vaerro watched in shock. Klaren’s soft palm spread over Carina’s face. Carina kissed her palm and whispered “Master”. Suddenly Carina went flying as Klaren used the Force against her. Carina flew over the cliff, about a mile away. She fell like a helpless ragdoll.

 

Klaren’s eyes turned to Vaerro. “And you, my child.” She spoke. Her voice had an eerie tone to it.

 

Vaerro charged at her with his lightsaber, till she was only a foot away from death. And then he stopped. He was exhausted. Uncannily exhausted. Her fell back and heaved, looking at the ethereal Klaren. Klaren, the Dusk Lady looked coldly into his eyes. She then extended her hand.

 

“Take my hand, and come with me.” Was all she said. Vaerro’s hand clasped it soon enough.

[Bee Hoon]

Oh my, that was rather unexpected! The way you set it up was excellent: it could have gone any way with equally convincing results. Klaren must have been a terribly precocious criminal though... Getting investigated by the Jedi at age 15? Not many can lay claim to that kind of track record:p

 

A few minor typos, nothing big. Can't wait to see how this story pans out!

[Sabretooth]

Thanx.

 

Every Episode will deal with a different setting, but related to the Dusk Lady. We'll also be seeing Klaren's rise to fame (or rather, infame )

 

Sorry for the typos. I forgot to read the whole thing and edit it, I just posted it off. What can I say? I'm damned eager.

[Jason Skywalker]

Good god, that was terrific!

 

Some errors here and there though. Keep them coming!

[Sabretooth]

Episode 2

 

“I very honestly do not know what to do with her!” yelled Master Jundo. His veins were protruding from his toned neck and his brown eyes were starting to bulge. His smooth, bald head showed signs of a rising temper.

 

“Patience is the key. With time, even she will heal.” Master Vandar replied. In reality, he was out of his wits.

 

“Patience! If I stay patient with her, she will blow the roof off this place and burst this planet before we know it! That girl is insane!”

 

“But the Force shall heal her. Master Jundo, you act childishly. Do not give in to your impatience.”

 

Master Jundo calmed and sat back in his chair. He ran his hand over his head and drank a glass of water. He then leaned back and calmly closed his eyes. “I am sorry, Master Vandar.”

 

“That is well. Now, listen here. Take her far away. Show her the grim realities of life. Take her to a place where there is nothing left to destroy. Leave her on her own. From my analysis, Klaren is nothing but a spoiled brat. A heavily exaggerated version of a spoiled brat.”

 

“You speak well, Master. I shall take her to… Hypori. It is a fairly desolate place. I will leave her there with food and water and see how she fares the next day – but only from a distance.”

 

 

The planet of Hypori was a vast place. There was nothing but a rocky desert for millions of miles. The wind blew unobstructed and the sand that flew with it resembled a brown blizzard. Master Jundo’s ship took off left the planet. It left its only other passenger, young Klarenia Vasser. She was only eleven years old, but she was serious and determined. Her master doubted her capabilities, she thought. No wonder he speechlessly left her here. It was no Jedi test. Her master was clearly jealous.

 

Near her foot, the sand dissolved into a whirlpool, which made way for a hole. A hideous insect crawled out and slithered along the sand, leaving a trail. Klaren picked up the insect with her hands and observed it as it slid along her arm and towards her shoulder. She gripped it hard and flung it into the air and then used the Force to bash it against a pillar of rock. The insect squealed, but only a smile spread on Klaren’s lips. She then brought the almost dead insect near her and ate him. Surviving here would be hard, she thought. She’d might as well start now.

 

 

Klaren sat alone in a cave as night approached. With her head leaned against the rocky wall, she traced sixteen lines on the sand. Her kill-count. Sixteen sentient beings had died by her hand. Most under conveniently timed accidents and some under outright revenge. She had faced punishment, detention and almost banishment from the Order. But she knew why the final punishment had been cancelled. She was too powerful to be banished.

She was only eleven. She was considered a prodigy. She could speak only months after birth and she was a faster learner than most had expected. But she was also arrogant. She was unforgiving. She was downright cruel. Her parents never thought much of her, other than a worthy heir to themselves, and an object of pride. She was an expert in the Force since birth. Even without Jedi training, she could manipulate the Force to influence insects, move objects and so on. But her most remarkable talent was her callousness. She would invent creative ways to hurt her peers and her enemies never lasted long. They either ran away, or suffered a miserable death.

 

As the great Jedi Masters would point out, Klaren was genius. She was always the superior in mental activities and she let her strength manifest into physical superiority as well. She thought clearly, logically and systematically. She never displayed what was common among peers of her age. She was clearly more mature and ahead of her age. She was attempting to consume spice when she was ten.

 

Klaren needed a space to expand. She hated the Jedi. She always thought they were fools who know how to tinker around with the Force. She always maintained that they were a bunch of infertile monks hoping to look good. She thought they were disgusting and she wished to dissociate herself from them. Klaren was a thorough hedonist and of course, a sadist. She wanted a place where she could express both of these.

 

 

It was late morning of the next day. Klaren came out of her cave and stretched. She could feel a disruption in the Force. Her Master was here, she was sure of it. Once again, she loathed her Master for having underestimating her. How could he be present on this planet without letting her know? He was disgusting.

 

She turned around completely and looked carefully through the rock pillars, caves and hills. Nothing. She ate another snake-like insect and sat on top of the hillock where her cave was nestled. She concentrated her thoughts and within seconds, she was able to pinpoint her Master’s location to a rock spire. She looked in that general direction. Without moving a limb, she concentrated her Force energy and sent a thunderous invisible torpedo of the Force into the spire.

 

The spire almost exploded into rock fragments and she saw a human body fall in the debris. She grinned. She cleared the rocks, so as to leave only her Master’s battered body there. Her hatred towards him had reached its final point. The rocks, some of them boulders came racing towards the body at lightning speed. They kicked up a large cloud of dust when they violently converged. She then repeated the procedure and threw the rocks away. Her Master’s body was broken, bloody mess. She was filled with immense joy.

 

 

At night in her cave, she roasted the last bit of her master’s leg that was left and chomped on it, relishing every bit. Her last night on Hypori. She licked the bone clean and tossed it into a pile of other bones. She thought about how those bones were only yesterday moving and walking. They were alive and today, they are nothing but dead, senseless objects that will rot forever on Hypori. Klaren drew one more line alongside her sixteen and smiled.

 

 

When she returned alone, she did not find it surprising that Master Vandar had been waiting at the hangar. Quite on the contrary, Vandar was afraid. He could not connect with Master Jundo and considering Klaren’s record, he knew something would be wrong. When Klaren approached him, she came teary-eyed. She then dropped at his feet and sobbed. Master Vandar let her cry. He did not know what else he could do.

 

“Forgive me, my Master.” She choked. “I have been so sinful… but today. Today I learnt death.”

 

Master Vandar leaned on his stick. His face did held neither sympathy nor curiosity. He let Klaren take her time.

 

“Master Jundo…. He crashed on Hypori. I tried to save him, but… it was those monsters. It was… one of those grotesque Jedi-devourers – those…”

 

“Terentateks.” Vandar helped her get back on her feet. Her face was soaked with tears and they did not stop. They were genuine, Vandar thought. He could not sense hypocrisy in Klaren. “Come with me.” He said.

 

They walked into his private chamber. Not many students were present in the morning. Most had gone out for the trainings, and the rest did not see Klaren, nor did they take any interest in seeing her. Klaren’s infamy was only a whispered truth. None truly believed her, and she seemed perfectly normal, albeit a little too mature for her age. Vandar hadn’t been surprised that she made her way to Dantooine in a ship all by herself.

 

“Tell me everything” Vandar asked as he settled into a meditation cushion laid fairly in the center of his chamber.

 

“He crashed and he was weak. I was living in a cave and… I tried to get to him. I recognized his ship, but then I heard a grotesque roar. It was… despicable – yes, that’s the only word. And that – terentatek creature came barging out of a cave and…” she burst crying.

 

Vandar knew the savageness of the Terentateks. He also knew the pain at being separated from one’s master without being able to do anything about it. He knew that despite however peculiar Klaren was, she loved her Master. She had a right to be pained. If there is one attachment that the Order permitted its students, it was to their Masters. It was unavoidable and it was certainly acceptable.

 

“What did you do?” Vandar asked calmly.”

 

“I… I hid behind a large rock… a boulder. The terentatek would have eaten me! I ran back to my cave and hid till the next day. I then quietly left in my Master’s ship.”

 

Vandar eyed her suspiciously. “But you said it had crashed. And that terentatek would have certainly eaten you. And most unusual of all, your time frame is incorrect. Master Jundo left here two days ago, so he could not have arrived there at the time you mentioned… unless he travelled fast.”

 

“But Master, you must believe me! I am not lying!” she shrieked. Vandar could see the insecurity in her eyes. He sighed and looked at the floor.

 

“We will assign you a new master. You have gained an invaluable lesson at Hypori. Your Master’s final blessing to you – the value of death. I know you have killed before, young Klarenia. But I am ready to forgive you. We will give you as many opportunities to start anew as you like. It is your responsibility to use them well.”

 

He got up and pulled the window blinds, letting the beautiful golden-blue rays fill his room. “I will clear you record, personally. It will be known to only the two of us. I hear you aren’t popular with the students…?”

 

Klaren nodded weakly. She was still sobbing.

 

“Then I will have you transferred to Coruscant. Of course, you can come here whenever you like. But if you wish to start anew, we’d start with a new location. I will personally take interest in your training.”

 

Klaren thanked Vandar over and over. He had saved her life and built it anew for her. She was grateful for him, she said. She thanked him again and went to rest in her quarters, to be left undisturbed till her flight the next day. Vandar cleared her record and assigned her base as Coruscant. Klaren was an oddity, he knew. She would have to be, no doubt, treated specially. One wrong step could be fatal. Throwing Klaren out of the Order, would be one of his greatest mistakes in life.

 

 

Klaren couldn’t stop grinning in her room. It was done. She had decided to maintain a clean record with the Jedi, and function as a maverick. She would mingle with the underworld and fulfill her two greatest pleasures in life – hedonism and sadism. She burst out laughing alone in her room. Her second life had begun.

[Sabretooth]

Episode 3

 

Wellar tossed a plasteel coin worth ten credits at the bartender, who caught it mid-air. He then pored into the coin with his unanimated eyes and spoke without looking, “Ask.”

 

“Spike. Where is he?”

 

The Bartender flipped the coin in his fingers for a few moments. “The inn down the street. Room no. 404, receptionist’s got the key. He’s on spice.”

“Who, Spike or the receptionist?”

 

The Bartender smiled wryly. “Both.”

 

“Who supplied them?” Wellar asked, tossing his shoulder-length hazel hair back and staring in. Wellar was a Jedi, but looked hardly like one.

 

The Bartender ignored the comment and continued tossing the coin in air. Wellar sighed and threw in another coin. The Bartender caught the coin but didn’t speak. Wellar repeated. The Bartender followed suit. Wellar sighed loudly, looked around and then stamped two notes on the counter – one worth 100 credits, and the worth fifty.

 

The Bartender smiled and stuffed the notes in his pocket, with his coins. He motioned Wellar to lean in closer.

 

“There’s a weird woman – a Sith, I think. She makes and sells spices, drugs and what-not. Nobody knows her, because whoever does – he becomes a slave to ‘er. Nobody sees her. She’s called… the Dusk Lady.”

 

“How long has she been working?”

 

“About a year, now. Nobody has seen her face. Nobody knows anything about her, actually. She’s the sort of woman, who methinks will set up a hundred facades to fool you, a hundred illusions! And even then you won’t find her!”

 

“Thanks.” Wellar said curtly and turned around. As he walked towards the cantina’s door, the bartender was counting the notes. A total of one hundred and eighty credits. Only twenty short of two-hundred.

 

“Hey tall guy!” he called out at Wellar and filled up a glass of ale. “You forgot your drink!” he cried out, with a look that obviously had more to say. Wellar turned, hesitated and then returned to the counter. Upon the bartender’s hints, he dropped twenty credits on the counter, which were expertly swooped up by the bartender.

 

“The windows are sealed, there’s one door and one key. No fire exit. One way out and same way in. Watch out.” The bartender whispered.

 

 

Wellar slumped back against a wall and coughed as the dust accumulated. He brought out his comlink and whispered, “Gina? It’s me, Wellar. I got something on the Dusk Lady. She’s being working for a year – yeah! A year!”

 

“Where is Spike?” asked Gina, one of Wellar’s companions in his council-assigned mission.

 

“I’ve traced his whereabouts – I’m going in. Alone. You guys can pack your bags.

”

Gina flinched. “What? You’re going alone? You wait there! I’ll be there right away; we’ll need to do this together!”

 

“Sorry, that’s my way of doing things.” With that he cut the call and disabled the comlink.

 

As he glanced at the end of the alley, he saw the bartender strolling about, carrying an expression of worry on his face. This piqued Wellar’s curiosity. He mildly scratched his goateed chin and crawled ahead, only to accidentally stumble upon a garbage can, spilling it’s contents. The bartender almost jumped and peered into the alley. Wellar jumped used his ability of speed to leap into the air and hung by a window sill, and then onto the opposite wall, where he jumped up onto the roof. The bartender didn’t see anything.

 

Wellar jumped roof-to-roof and noticed the bartender going right where he had indicated Spike to be. Spike, a notorious gangster was supposedly linked to the Dusk Lady herself. He had earned a status of legend among his peers, but he was generally treated apathetically in the galaxy. Wellar jumped up onto the inn’s roof and raked the streets. As he had expected, the bartender walked right in.

 

 

Strangely enough, the bartender hadn’t gone to Spike’s room. Wellar figured that when he grew tired after hiding in the inn’s corridor for fifteen long minutes. The bartender had disappeared, but Wellar sensed he was somewhere on the ground floor. Wellar made his move. He silently approached the door and pressed the illuminated button to ring a bell. Excite sounds resonated from within. The inn was shabby and it’s rooms were not soundproof, Wellar figured. He took his lightsaber in his hand, but hid it in his brown cloak.

 

Nobody opened the door for ten seconds. Wellar decided to do it himself. He used the force to slide the door open and barged in, creating an invisible shield to protect himself from any blaster attacks. He saw Spike, just as he had looked in the profile holograph. A man of medium height, with modified red eyes, a growing stubble, shabby appearance and a mild paunch. Currently he had a look that could kill a Jawa.

 

Wellar scanned the room. And then he gasped. On the bed, covered in two layers of bed sheets was Klaren, a fellow Jedi at the Coruscant Academy. Her clothes lay fallen around the room and she had the look of innocent shock when she saw Wellar. “Klaren!” he cried. Klaren tried to say something, but she could say nothing. She was only fifteen years of age.

 

Wellar looked back at Spike, who had managed a blaster and was aiming it at Wellar. He was desperate and no match for a Jedi. He fired two shots that landed nowhere near Wellar. Soon enough, his blaster flew from is hands into Wellar’s. “I’m gonna kill you!” Spike screamed, half-dazed. Wellar could sense an overpowering influence having taken control of Spike. It seemed occult and repulsive, but it was absolutely unexplainable.

 

Wellar took up a defensive stance as Spike rushed in one swift move he beheaded Spike. Wellar winced at what he had done, but his attention was more focused on Klaren. He turned at her. “What the hell was going on here?” he yelled. Klaren looked as if she was about to cry. She clutched at her bed sheets harder and drew them an inch closer. Suddenly a vial smashed into Wellar’s face. A gas was liberated and it filled his nostrils.

 

Wellar moaned and dropped on his knees. He could hear girlish laughter in his ears. He saw Klaren’s bare feet come beside him. His eyes blurred and his mind could not think. His connection to the Force was terminated. He moaned louder and fell over. The bartender barged into the door and gasped at what he saw. A teenager smiling over a Jedi, who looked like he was hallucinating and body of a headless man, the head fallen on the bead.

 

The bartender cupped his mouth and the two hundred credits in his hands fell away. Klaren got up and the door slid shut again, by the Force. “My slave, have some fun.” She said, an evil grin on her lips. She then slipped back in her bed.

 

 

The bartender died a grotesque death.

 

 

Wellar was sprawled unconscious on the bed, amidst the chaos. His comlink had been destroyed. Klaren sat beside him smiling, stroking his hair. “You will make a nice addition to my ever-growing collection.” She said softly. “I am going to enjoy this. It appears this trip into the open world gave me more than I had intended.”

[Lord Spitfire]

This is very nice.

 

I like how your details are layered, and that your descriptions are really good. I usually don't like these stories, but this is pretty good. Keep it up!

[Jason Skywalker]

Great two chapters! Klaren is one evil girl.

[Sabretooth]

Thanks Jason, Spifire. Nice to know somebody likes Dravid after all.

[Bee Hoon]

Klaren is absolutely twisted! There's a few errors here and there, but again, nothing major. I can't believe the Jedi are that dumb though...

[Sabretooth]

I can't believe the Jedi are that dumb though...

 

Well, if you're reffering to Wellar, he was sort of maverick. And as for the council, they had more important matters on their hands. Also, they did not regard the Dusk Lady as a particularly dangerous threat. (This is the first investigation).

 

And thanks for the thing on errors. I swear I'll proofread and edit my next chapter.

[Bee Hoon]

Good for ya:) I suppose they do, and they're such suckers for redemption and all that. Apparently didn't work too well in THIS case. I can't wait to see Klaren's ultimate aim though. That's one evil girl!

[Lord Spitfire]

Thanks Jason, Spifire. Nice to know somebody likes Dravid after all.

 

Yeah, lol. But I seem to be a blind optimist (don't worry, things will shape up!), which might be why . . .

 

Anyways, can't wait for the next update.

[RC-1162]

Awe. Some. I loved it. As I did everything you've written till now. Heh. It's very well written and has a smooth flow. Apart from the occasional error, its great. There's one thing though:

 

Wellar was sprawled unconscious on the bead, amidst the chaos.

 

Did you mean bed?

[Sabretooth]

Did you mean bed?

 

Yes I did. I'm terribly sorry.

[Lord Spitfire]

"Terribly sorry?" it doesn't really matter if you spell 'bed' wrong one word off.

 

Anyways, that Klren girl gives me the shivers.

 

SHE IS A MALACULOUSLY EVIL MONSTER!

 

And that's what makes her so cool.

[Sabretooth]

When I developed the concept of the Dusk Lady, I wanted something that Star Wars has never seen before. There are all the Sith Lords in the galaxy and then there is The Dusk Lady. You can say this fanfic is something of a Star Wars Horror, and I'm glad to know people are taking her in the right way. I might expand this story, probably.

 

Inspiration for The Dusk Lady

1. Madame Zhou, a real-life character in the non-fiction novel Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts. It's an awesome book, read it if you can.

2. Atris: Just her appearance - it's my inspiration for the Dusk Lady's appearance. Imagine a dark version of Atris and you've got it.

3. Jigoku Shoujo: Hell Girl: An anime. Inspired the horror format of this story and like it, I might transition the story from stand-off episodes to a structured storyline.

 

"Terribly sorry?" it doesn't really matter if you spell 'bed' wrong one word off.

 

I'm very spelling conscious. I despise people who type/write incorrectly and do not admit to it. I, therefore am heartbroken to see a typo thatbreaks the story's flow and changes the meaning.

[Sabretooth]

Episode 4

 

“My dear Revan,” the Dusk Lady chortled, “You are a most interesting specimen.”

 

 

Malak was leaning against the railing of a large, semicircular terrace of the Taris Government Building. His meeting with Tarisian officials was that very afternoon. The authorities had granted him lodging on their premises. He was grim, and he knew his mission was important if Revan was to secure a foothold on Taris to execute operations in that slice of the galaxy.

 

A dispenser droid hovered by Malak and buzzed, “Would you like confectionaries?” Malak nodded and pressed a red button on the droid’s chest. A red candy rolled down the tray that was in the place where a stomach should have been present. Malak swiped his card off a slit on the droid’s chest and chewed on the candy. He studied the Tarisian landscape. It was marvellous and it looked even more beautiful half an hour before sunrise, when the buildings were coloured in a tumultuous mix of blues, golden and yellow.

 

“It is a beautiful view.” A feminine voice spoke, which almost made Malak jump. He saw to his left, a young woman – obviously in her twenties, but with an atypically mature flair. Malak hadn’t heard her coming, but decided not to broadcast his surprise.

 

“True. It is ironic to see such marvellous beauty in a place as artificial as this.” Malak spoke, gazing away from the woman, trying to act normal. His mind was far from it.

 

“But beauty is only skin deep. Don’t you think so?” she asked with a slight hint of innocence.

 

“Well, seeing the poverty in the Lower and Under Cities, I’ve come to think the same.” He answered, making a half-artificial smile.

 

“That is not the real Taris, no. That isn’t either. To see the real Taris, you must give in to it; you must close your eyes and be one with the people. The real Taris lies beyond these superficial structures, these spectacular vistas. The real Taris is the people of Taris – the mass of people that consist it.”

 

“I bask in your wisdom.” Malak spoke and mock-bowed, but the woman’s face didn’t move from gazing out into the open. Malak studied her features. She had blonde hair that stretched to a little below her shoulders. She had a fair face, only a little tanned. Beautiful blue eyes, like miniature oceans a high cheekbones. She was a little taller than most girls were, about an inch or so shorter than six feet. She was slender and attractive, but Malak could see her powerful muscles resting upon the railing.

 

“Who are you?” he asked, looking at her and hoping for the glance to be returned. It was not.

 

“My identity hardly matters. What I have come to tell you is what matters.”

“You… you came here to meet me?” Malak asked, his surprise undeniable.

 

The woman smiled at that. It was the smile that did not imply, but screamed that she knew something that Malak didn’t.

 

“Have you ever questioned your best friend’s intentions?” she asked.

“What? Revan?” Malak was perplexed.

 

“Of course. He seeks to build an Empire by crushing the Mandalorians, and you are assisting him.”

 

“Ridiculous. We fight for the Republic and for all of those troubled souls who have lost…”

 

“You are either a pawn or a hypocrite.” The woman cut in, still smiling.

 

“You are a Jedi.” Malak blurted. He didn’t know why he said it.

 

“I know.” Was the woman’s curt reply.

 

An awkward silence followed for the next whole minute. The woman maintained a calm and confident face, while Malak’s face was more intense and thoughtful than usual. Who is this woman? He thought. Do I know her? On what authority does she accuse Revan? Does she know Revan personally?

 

“Tell me, Malak. Have you ever invested your meditation time in more useful activities, such as foresight?”

 

Malak jerked himself out of his sinking boat of thoughts and tried to grab hold of the question.

 

“Foresight? Yes, sometimes.”

 

“How far did you look? Further than the next few hours?”

 

“I don’t see what you mean.” Malak evaded the question.

 

“You have always been the renegade. The fighter. You’ve never thought about other things in life.”

 

“Who are you?” Malak asked, frowning. That invited a contented grin on the woman’s face.

 

“I would have been to you what Revan is to you now.” She answered cryptically and refused to say any more. Malak’s dislike was turning to animosity by the second.

 

“You want me to turn my back on Revan?” he asked.

 

“No, of course not. I want you to open your eyes and look at Revan and his ideals. Yesterday he betrayed the Council…”

 

“He did not betray the council!” Malak snapped, “The council betrayed the Jedi ideals!”

 

“That is not for you to judge, is it? Revan turned his back on the council; tomorrow he could turn his back on the Republic. He did swear an oath to follow the Jedi. And he is doing the same to the Republic now.”

 

“And what am I supposed to do about it?”

 

“You are supposed to open your eyes and think why you are fighting this war, for whom you are fighting this war and how far are you willing to take this war. Revan knows the answers to these questions and that is why you are his right hand, not the other way round.”

 

Malak pulled out his datacube and saw the time, before looking out southeast again, where the sun would rise. He pondered on what the woman was saying, and to some extent, she was right. Malak was loyal, but he was never loyal to himself. This war was the Mandalorians’, not the Republic’s. But when Revan interfered, the war became his. He led the war effort primarily and it was anybody’s guess that the future of the galaxy was sealed in what Revan decided.

 

He felt an unusual surge of abhorrence towards Revan, but it was below hate and above dislike. He felt stinging thoughts about him and many truths became clear to him. Many lies, buried by Revan’s sweet speeches were dug up again. Revan was on his way to become ruler of the galaxy, and in that invisible quest he had ensnared everyone – even his most trusted friend. Never, Malak thought. I will rebel. I will stop Revan. I will stop him when the time comes.

 

He looked left, but the woman was gone. He looked all around, but there was nobody on the terrace, not even the droid. He sighed, as if he had woken up from a bad dream. Turning back to face his view, he saw the complete beauty of the Tarisian buildings, dark silhouettes against the golden sun that had risen. A new day had begun. A new dawn.

[Bee Hoon]

Very nice! I like how you tied in the Dusk Lady's tale with the first KotOR. Erm, the first line sort of indicated that the Dusk Lady was going to have a conversation with Revan, so I was kind of disappointed until reading how masterfully Malak was manipulated. And it's clear of errors and typos as far as I can see!

[Sabretooth]

Very nice! I like how you tied in the Dusk Lady's tale with the first KotOR. Erm, the first line sort of indicated that the Dusk Lady was going to have a conversation with Revan, so I was kind of disappointed until reading how masterfully Malak was manipulated. And it's clear of errors and typos as far as I can see!

 

A promise is a promise, beehoon.

 

I'm not sure if the audience has completely understood the purpose of this episode, so:

 

 

The Dusk Lady did not want centralization of power under Revan and she had foreseen his rise to power and Malak's brutal reign as well. She wanted to take Malak for herself and make him her slave, so that she would have some measure of power inside the Sith and Revan will be unable to assumme power.

 

[Lord Spitfire]

This is the best episode, BY FAR, since it ties in with the plot.

 

Though this episode slightly . . . makes the Dusk Lady less of the assassin/crime lord and more of a Sith Lord, in a way.

 

But still, awesome chapter, looking forward to more!

[RC-1162]

I just love it. I need more! "Give me your pleasure, my master."

[Diego Varen]

Sorry I'm so late, but I couldn't resist reading this. I like this Dusk Lady, she is mysterious and a different character from the normal Jedi who saves the galaxy. Anyway, I also like Episode 4 the best, since it does tie in with the KOTOR series, although the others are unique since they are different, other than Master Vandar being in it. Plenty of description makes it good too.

 

I'm looking foward to the last episode (unless you're planning more) and take your time. Also, will you finish Admiral Ancete or did you already finish it?

[Sabretooth]

I'm quitting Admiral Ancete, sorry to say. I just got bored with it, to be honest. Sure the story was great and well-chalked out, but things don't pan out sometimes, you know? Lesson to be learnt is, do not go about writing a fic vaguely - always keep a definite storyline and chalked benchmarks beforehand, otherwise it gets insanely boring. That is why I'll probably write shorter fics from now on. (Believe me, VoB was supposed to be shorter - but I decided to extend it, just because of that awesome ending I planned )

 

Now, I'm planning out my last episode, which should be ready within the next few days. If you guys are with me, I'll probably release a sequel with a more consistent storyline.

 

@Spitfire: You said that the fourth episode makes the Dusk Lady less of a crime lord and more of a Sith Lord. Last episode turns the tables, mate.

 

@beehoon: You mentioned that you liked the way Malak was manipulated. I'm not quite sure if you, or anyone for that matter found the hidden clue in that episode.

 

 

Remember the candy Malak ate?