Sins of the Father/Part 1

1,386 BBY (Day 137 of the Conquest of Milagro)

Circling the holoprojection of the world that dominated her thoughts, Vedya Gasald took a glass off a tray proffered by a serving droid. Sipping the pale pink rosé, she reached out her free hand and brushed her ghost-white fingertips along the blue holographic curve of the sphere.

"Soon," she purred. "I'll be with you soon, children."

The doors opened and one of her playthings entered. The fluffy one, she thought, sensing the unique combination of animal ferocity and fire so hot its flames chilled. She supposed, with Halicon Karzded slain these many months, the fluffy one was Plaything Number One now. It had been so as long as she remembered; when she was a very small girl, before the dark side had led the Sith to find her, she recalled her mother complaining about how often she broke her toys.

I do tend to go through them.

She continued to ponder the holo until Fluffy Plaything knelt at her back. Even kneeling he was head and shoulders taller than her, but she turned at the gesture of obeisance and nodded. "Darth Kra'all."

"My lady," the Togorian growled. His voice, deeper than the lowest key on a KeyBed, sent a little shiver down her spine, and she drifted into a pleasant imagining of what it would be like to find a humanoid with a voice like that, his thunderous rumble in her ear and his breath hot on her neck. Or even Fluffy Plaything himself—the sweet pain of his claws biting into her bare skin, the warmth of his soft fur on her chest—if only he wouldn't split her in half in the process. Sometimes she felt the galaxy was out to torment her.

Fluffy Plaything waited until she had sighed, accepted the harsh realities of a pitiless galaxy, and refocused her deep blue eyes on him. "Rise, Darth Kra'all, and tell me of your preparations."

He stood to put her head around his navel, and she thought offhand how much Karzded would have enjoyed that arrangement. Kra'all did not desire her that way, but all beings desired something; one merely needed to discern it to control them.

"Repairs to the fleet are almost complete," Kra'all said in his exciting bass rumble. "The New Adasta is taking the longest. We've nearly maximized the Shipyards' output, considering the resources we've been allowed."

Vedya made a face. "When we've tamed the Five Brothers and you've taken Corellia as your seat, do remind me to reward Lord Osydro for his…generosity."

She sensed Kra'all's hunger piqued and saw the way his fur bristled; he had long lusted after such a glorious prize, and Vedya had chosen an offhand tone, as if it was a settled matter, to stoke that desire. Coiling him a little tighter around her finger came so naturally she could only just take pleasure in it; Trayvin Osydro dominated her thoughts. Trayvin the Craven, she thought. When Darakhan had cut off her supply route by seizing Milagro and unleashed his pirates to prey upon her shipping, she had been forced to reach out to Osydro for aid. He had allowed her to ferry resources and soldiers through his territory, taking the ridiculously long way up to Daalang and back down to Gamor to avoid Darakhan's piranha beetles, but had taken a healthy commission for his trouble—trouble here having the meaning of indulgence without interfering. Between sating the lump's thirst for the blood of harder-working Sith and taking the circuitous route to avoid Bothan Space and Hutt Space, she had hemorrhaged money bringing in resources to repair and provision her fleet.

Had she appealed to the Council of Five, they would surely have compelled Osydro to support her, but that would have exacted a toll of its own: all the respect she had earned from a lifetime of mastery, and any chance of elevation to the Council herself. But for Darakhan's interference, she might have taken the Cold One's seat…

Hunger…

"How long until we're ready, Darth Kra'all?"

"Within the month," he answered. "We should have a last legion of war droids by then, and enough durasteel to complete repairs."

Vedya nodded and paced away, circling the holo until she could see Kra'all through it. "And our new friends in the south?"

"Eager to exercise their muscles and become the predators for a change. Their timeline to gather their strength coincides with ours."

"You're certain we'll have enough by then?"

"An easy victory," he assured her, crossing arms as thick at the biceps as she was at the waist. "We could go now and—"

"No," she said, and enough fire seeped from her voice that Darth Kra'all bowed in submission. Cooling herself, she soothed, "This victory must be pure and perfect, my lord. Your predecessor's mistakes cost us dearly; we can afford no more delays."

As she spoke, she breathed suggestion into the Force—soft as a whisper, gentle as a butterfly kiss, touching the subconscious and stirring secrets hidden in the heart. Mind tricks were fine for adepts and Acolytes, but no true master needed such a blunt instrument when every being desired something and the dark side existed to provide for desires. The dark side could rage and thunder with the flash of lightning and the screams of dying stars, but it could also whisper, and few beings had the wisdom to fear a whisper.

Darth Kra'all nodded in agreement. "We will regain our momentum, Master, and our blade will pierce the Core through."

A smile would have no meaning to a feline Togorian, so Vedya stepped up her breathing through her nose, triggering low-level hyperventilation so her skin temperature would rise and her heart rate accelerate. Kra'all's nostrils twitched, his green eyes widened, and she caught a gleam of white as his lips drew back from his fangs.

"Go, my lord, and keep me updated."

"Yes, Master." Darth Kra'all bowed again and swept from the room.

Vedya watched him go, his mind filled with her purpose, and smiled in satisfaction before she turned her attention back to the holo of Milagro.