Karone Visits The Cargo Hold

This is a little thing that I wrote for my daily 750 words several years ago, and is quite raw. “I’ve been writing a little bit lately about my Old Republic characters. It also just so happened that I recently realized that I could sell my old materials that I’d been hoarding and make a lot of credits. So this is also based on that.”

“You know, my lord, the cargo hold is getting awful full.”

Karone nodded in Pierce’s general direction, hoping that he would take the hint and move along.

“With all that gear, an our new passenger, maybe we ought to think about moving some of it. Moving it out of the ship, even.”

She sighed, set the datapad down on her desk and swung the chair around to face him. Pierce was standing in the doorway of her quarters, the width of his body taking up the entire frame. His arms were crossed, his head cocked. This was the problem with Pierce’s “slight inclination towards subordination” as Quinn would say – the man was going to say what he needed, whether she was inclined to hear it.

“Yes, I understand. I will take that under advisement.”

The pat phrase she used when someone needed to be acknowledged, but she did not have the desire to broach the topic further.

“She has a lot of raw materials.” Quinn’s voice echoed from somewhere down the corridor.

Karone jumped to her feet and shoved Pierce out of the way.

“What in the world are you doing?” she muttered as she stomped her way towards the cargo hold.

The first thing she saw was that all of her carefully packed crates had been torn open, and goods were strewn everywhere.

She wheeled around and jammed a finger at Pierce’s armor.

“The cargo hold would look a lot less full if you hadn’t torn it apart!”

He held up his hands defensively, and a low rumble of laughter shook his chest.

“Wasn’t my fault, my lord. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

A blue head popped out from behind one stack of crates, and Vette held up a bolt of Lashaa silk.

“It was all me. I remember when this cargo hold was completely empty.” She shook the bolt of silk free and the yards tumbled to the floor.

“I don’t even remember when we got this, do you?”

Karone shook her head.

“What are you doing in there? We have more important things to do than tear apart this junk.”

“Actually, my lord,” Quinn started to say. Karone jumped. She hadn’t seen him behind the mountain of artifact fragments. He glanced up in recognition of her surprise, and his lips twitched subtly. He then cleared his throat and looked back to the datapad in his hands. “Have you seen what some of this is going for on the GTN?”

“When on earth would I have had time to do that?” she asked, reaching out for the datapad. Quinn stepped around the artifact fragments and over a smaller pile of cloth, barely dodging a bolt of silk that landed at his feet.

She looked at the list Quinn had typed up, along with the corresponding credit estimates.

“For this?” she shook her head, bewildered.

“Yes, my lord. If I might offer a suggestion, we are going to pass by the fleet anyway. It might be a worthwhile investment of your time to unload these and see what you can get for them.”

She nodded and handed the datapad back to her captain. Darth Baras wasn’t exactly tight with the credits that her paid her for her work, but it would probably be wise to diversify her income a little. It wasn’t exactly rare for a Sith master to decide that his apprentice had out grown their use – or worse yet, gotten too powerful – and dispose of them. She could use a little insurance against that time, when, not if, it arrived.

“That is a good plan, Quinn.” She kicked a fragment as it rolled to the doorway. “I trust that you will see that all of these are re-sorted and ready to go by the time we dock?”

“I will do my best, my lord.”

“THIS ONE!” Vette shrieked from the back of the hold. A bolt of bronze colored silk waved over top of the piles of fabrics and minerals as Vette came crashing through. Quinn winced.

“My lord!” she exclaimed with a grin, “May I keep this one?”

“I don’t see any harm in that.”

Vette pulled the bolt of fabric close to her chest and squeezed.

“Thank you! Thank you! Have I told you yet that you are the nicest Sith Lord a girl could have?”

Karone laughed softly, then turned and nudged Pierce out of her way.

“Take what you want, within reason. But unless someone is bleeding, leave me to my work!”

Carth, Outside the Jedi Temple

From time to time I’m going to share old posts that are no longer available from my personal blog. This snippet of fanfiction is one such post, from somewhere in the early 2010’s. Enjoy!

Another bit of kotor fan fic this morning, set post-kotor. Alternate reality in which kotor2 doesn’t exist. It’s a bit heavy.

Another Jedi council meeting that he was on the outside of. But when had it been any different? He thought back to when he had first gotten tangled with the Jedi, after Taris and rescuing Bastila.

Bastila had informed him that they needed to speak to the council. In person. Most definitely not by holocom. With her unique stare of superiority and secrets, she’d given him the coordinates for Dantooine. She’d practically dragged Revan from the ship on landing. It would be quick, she’d said. Yeah, try nearly a month of losing at Pazaak to a wookiee. Half the time he’d had been stuck on Dantooine, Revan and Bastila had been in secret Jedi business meetings. He’d been bitter then, though much more so now.

He had saved Revan, helped the Republic defeat Malak and destroy the Star Forge, and still he was relegated to the outside. He was not a Force user, and so here he was, on the wrong side of the door. At least Courscant wasn’t as humid as Dantooine. And if he wanted to, he could leave the temple and find something to do. But the council was interfering with their lives – again – and he couldn’t leave her alone for that.

Certainly, there was a part of him – not insubstantial – that was grateful to the council for saving and rebuilding her. He never would have met his witty spitfire of a wife if they had let her die as Darth Revan. But what they had done to her exactly, their utter lack of remorse for the complications and the strings that were still attached; all that made him angry. It had become clear that the council had not thought past her leading them to the Star Forge. They had not considered the possibility that Revan would remain true to the light, let alone that she would live through the ordeal. That left them with a conundrum. She had proven herself such that they could not imprison her, but they couldn’t allow her to be completely out of their reach either. The result of their debating was the much despised ‘nanny council’ that she now answered to.

While she took it in stride – at least outwardly – he could not. They decided to take a trip to Telos on a whim once so that he could show her where he came from; they had been chased down by a Jedi cruiser within two hours. She’d had to undergo a week of psychological evaluation before the council gave their permission for them to marry. But to show any remorse for the half-assed way they had wiped her memory? No, that was out of the question.

But then again, they didn’t have to deal with the consequences, did they? Not on a human level. They didn’t watch her launch into a story about her mom and sister, only to stop halfway through as she wrinkled her nose in confusion. She wasn’t sure whether the story she was telling was true or implanted. They didn’t see how embarrassed she was at times, unable to reconcile who she was, who she had been, and who she remembered. They didn’t have to sit there and hold her after she woke up screaming, having remembered something terrible.

That was why he hated answering to them. They didn’t care about the mess that they had created, they just wanted her kept in line. The weight of it was getting to her at times, he could tell. Her face was more gaunt, her personality more muted. It had been ages since the words ‘nerf herder’ had passed from her lips. They both knew that they were being watched. One fight in a cantina, one sweetener packet falling into her pocket, and the council may decide that she was too dangerous to live.

The thick metal door beside him slid open. Revan was alone. When she saw him, she smiled, but he could see the pain behind the carefully placed smile. As she stepped through the doorway, she took hold of his arm and began to lead him down the hall, away from the council chambers.

“What went on?” he asked.

“We can talk about it in a bit. Let’s go back to our place first.”

Carth stopped. Revan let go of his arm and sighed. He could see her facade crumbling.

“Yes, okay?” she choked. Tears began to stream down her face, and her body shook. For a moment, he thought he could feel the Force flowing through her body like electricity.

“They did it? They really did it?”

She nodded.

He felt anger surge, and for a moment he was light headed. He took a deep breath, forced himself to focus on her.

“All of the things they didn’t think of, but they made sure that you wouldn’t be able to have children?”

She nodded.

Carth wrapped his arms around her, and her composure dissipated.