"I've heard stories, yes," I said. "My master knew a great deal about the history of the old Sith Order, back in the days the Sith had entire empires under their control. They eventually turned on each other and were crushed. What I was taught was more historical than practical," I admitted. Master had taught me how to avoid falling into Darkness, rather than lingering on what might happen if I did. "But I know about the sacrifice," I added more quietly.

I thought so...

"That... is a painful story. But not all stories are the same, in my case especially." Already looking away, I cannot stop it completely as my expression tenses in pained remembrance slightly.

Even with the blindfold I could see the pained expression cross his face. There were many ways to fall into darkness, I knew. Not everyone who descended did so with evil in their hearts. I felt a twist of guilt in my gut; I was opening an old wound with my line of questioning.

"You don't--" I searched for the right words. "You don't have to tell me, yet. You don't have to tell me at all, if you don't want to," I said, honestly.

I sighed. I did want to know, but I did not want to drag it from him.

"The only thing I really need to know from you right now if whether or not you want to go back. Would you return, if your Mistress would forgive you for failing your mission?"

Heh, now that's funny. I think to myself grinning a little. Odd little twi'lek... making me smile so frequently.

"If my Mistress told me in one way or another that she'd forgiven me for failing, I wouldn't believe it." The end spat out slightly bitterly.

Crossing my arms, I add with a slight tinge of fearful respect "When she says she intends punishment, she is never lying."

Something I'd said had made him smile, replacing the pained expression. The guilty knot in my chest eased. I listened to his answer.

I noted he hadn't said he didn't want to return. In fact he technically hadn't even said he wouldn't return, if called. Only that he expected punishment if he did.

Though my understanding of Wolfe's relationship with his Mistress remained somewhat vague, a few things were becoming clear. Wolfe did not seem overly fond of his Mistress, but he also clearly respected her. And feared her. And it seemed that fear was the primary, and perhaps the only, reason he had been so willing to cooperate. His mistress had promised some punishment if he failed, and as long as he was certain she would deliver on that promise he was unlikely to return willingly to her side.

"I see," I said without any particular inflection. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what past punishment had earned the bitter tone in his voice. I could only wonder why he had stayed, afterwards.

"In that case we should definitely discuss our disguises," I added after a thoughtful pause. "Did you have anything in mind?"

Glad for the change in topic, I bring to mind the thoughts of disguise I'd had earlier and my grin only widens.

"Since I'm already quite good at playing the role, I'd figured it might be best if I masquerade as your slave. You could be anyone who owns a slave, which is a simple enough disguise, eh?"

"You want to disguise yourself as a slave?" I heard my voice rise, incredulous.

"That plan only works in areas where slavery is still practiced illegally. On civilized worlds that would draw attention," I reminded him. "Besides, do you--do you know what being a slave is actually like?" I asked, keeping my tone even. "It's nothing like your... games, Wolfe."

Surely he realized even in pretend he would have no rights. No freedom. With his build he could pass for a Class 4, certainly. Or a Class 1. At the thought a painful memory began to surface, so I set it aside.

Jeez, how long has she been on Cholgana? I almost ask the thought, and then remember the facts regarding the nature of her hiding out, a sense of guilt blindsiding me in the gut.

"Well, judging by the tone of your voice, this is going to be a bit of a bummer for you. Since the Empire took over, slavery is legal. And secondly, why do you assume I know nothing of slavery? I know what it means to exist for nothing but obedience, with no choice in the matter. To live... without living." There was no fire in my voice, only flat statement. Memories rolled across my mind, glacial and void, full of painfully vivid emptiness.

I bit down further thoughts. Just talking about it won't mean anything... I remember that old collar she wore.

"I know I can pass as a slave. The question is, can you pass as a slaver? Or some kind of imperial noble maybe? Those are quite common nowadays, since the emperor can't quite watch the whole of all the systems he controls at once. I think it would be easiest for you to take on the false identity of some lowborn noble, a family far from any current meaningful politics. Nobody will give you a second glance, hopefully instead appreciating your expensive slave. And nobody seriously gives a well trained slave even a first glance." Imagining the slightly socially clumsy girl barely navigating an imperial Noble party had me simultaneously worried and laughing on the inside. Especially considering the common tastes of those who most frequent said parties.

Relaxing a bit, I add "And of course it's nothing like... our games. My games, on the other hand, the kind of games I'm used to... You honestly have no idea. Nothing wrong with that, though." After such heavy conversation, reverting to flirting helps ease the last of my tension from my body and mind, as I direct all my attentions back to Aayla and her very pleasant form and demeanor. My tail swishes gently as thoughts unfold unbidden and not un-invited, barely holding my grin back to just a slight grin.

"Well, judging by the tone of your voice, this is going to be a bit of a bummer for you. Since the Empire took over, slavery is legal," he said.

A horrified cry of "What!?" stuck in my throat. I leaned on the console and for a blessed moment I was too shocked to feel anything. Wolfe kept speaking, and I tried to listen. The words distracted me from the cold anger that was building in me. I couldn't have spoken anyway, the anger had muted me. He asked me if I could pass for a slave owner, talked of how nobles walked about with slaves on their arm like it was nothing. Because it was allowed.

How dare they.

I could feel myself trembling, shaking with rage, my first balled in my lap.

"And of course it's nothing like... our games. My games, on the other hand, the kind of games I'm used to... You honestly have no idea. Nothing wrong with that, though." Wolfe's flirtatious tone was lost on me. I sat in utter silence for a a few seconds. I stood. I didn't know where I was going. I just felt the need to move.

"I stand corrected," I heard myself say quietly. "We can go with your plan, then. It's a fine idea," I said, with only a small tremor in my voice. How could they?

Breath. Don't give in to it. Not again. Let it pass.

The distance between the console and the lift was only a few steps, but it seemed much farther. The anger was peeling back, and the painful sadness at I mentally recoiled from the memory. I found myself rubbing the tattoo on the back of my hand.

Wolfe was leaning on the wall just to the left of the lift, looking pleased with himself. He was still wearing the blindfold.

"You can stop wearing that, you know," I said softly, then I stepped unto the lift.

Startled out of my pleasant reverie by the soft yet quite serious sounding tone suddenly beside me, I remove the blindfold as permitted and look into the brightly lit lift, careful at the last moment to shield my recently exposed eyes.

And thinking back on her words "It's a fine idea", I realize she might not have meant that kind of fine...

Why is there always more than one kind of fine with women??

"Wait, what happened? I think I missed something behind the blindfold..."

"Wait, what happened? I think I missed something behind the blindfold..."

Wolfe was looking in at me, and for a moment the mask of loss on my face was exposed. I'd subconsciously gotten used to him not being able to see and hadn't guarded my expression. Now I instinctively I stilled it to a more neutral one. He seemed worried, or confused. I realized from his perspective my departure must seem sudden.

"It was just a bit of a shock," I offered as an explanation."I hadn't imaged they would..." I didn't finish the sentence. The anger was passing, but it was still there. How could they do something so... evil? I forced the question back. There was no one here to answer it.

"I remembered something unpleasant," I said simply. I realized I was rubbing my tattoo again and stopped, looking at it. It had been three years. I needed to move on. I sighed.

I looked up at Wolfe and gave him a slightly forced smile. "Can we finish this conversation later? Your idea is good. I just need to... exercise a bit. Helps me clear my mind."

Seems something happened... something bad. Best keep off the topic of slavery for now. A small amount of sadness spreads through me, realizing how casually I rolled over what must have been a painful wound for her.

In a truly honest and curious tone, I say "Well, I've already done my exercises for the day. I wonder, do the Jedi have a different set of routines from my own training? They might have significant similarities that we were otherwise unawares of. If so, we might exercise together? I find it often far more motivating to have someone else to practice with." doing my best to change the topic, hopefully not too obviously, as I scramble for thoughts in a direction far away from what we were just discussing.

In the spirit of it now, I stretch my arms a bit, working some of the tiredness caused by my exercises out.

"I promise to behave, if you're thinking I might have secondary intentions." I add as a final thought, remembering that she'd just witnessed my thoughts deviate so easily while I was wearing the blindfold, a bit of embarrassment at my insensitivity flashes through my mind.

"…we might exercise together? I find it often far more motivating to have someone else to practice with. I promise to behave, if you're thinking I might have secondary intentions."

I could feel a light blush creeping onto my face. Wolfe had, naturally, assumed I meant Jedi exercises. I did need to do my sabre work for the day. I'd gotten into the habit of doing it at night, because daylight hours had been relatively safe from Cholganna's predators and it had been more effective to use that time to forage, hunt and explore. I should get into the habit of doing it in the morning, again.

But my master had warned me against wielding my sabre when I was emotionally compromised. "A lightsabre should be wielded with a calm heart, Aayla," he'd told me. If I associated the weapon with strong emotions, I might reach for it at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons.

"I was thinking of a different kind of exercise," I told him. I realized I'd have to tell Wolfe what I'd really had in mind. He was going to ask. Or find out. It wasn't a very big ship.

"I was going to dance," I confessed. "We could, um, practice together after?" It would be nice to practice with someone again. It had been a while.

Blinking a few times to process the word dance, my ears perk up at the pleasant thought. Easy there big guy, she just said after.

Oddly happy at the thought, I barely mumble out "I'll, uh, watch the ship's controls until then. Let me know when you're done and ready for comparing our exercises." as I'm sitting down at the controls. The warmth of the seat is pleasant.

Dancing... I wonder if she'd be willing to teach me eventually. I think playfully. Time will tell.

~Wolfe is handling ship duties until Aayla is done sorting out her thoughts~

I headed downstairs and decided to head to the cargo hold, I'd noticed there was some space in there during my earlier exploration. Also more privacy than the Ready Room.

I took off my robes and set them down--no point getting them dirty with sweat. The air here was not cold, my chest band would be enough. I moved to the centre of the hold. I started by stretching carefully. It was ironic, to ease the anger I felt about the Empire legalizing slavery, and the painful memory of my sisters, with the very skill I'd been forced to master as a slave.

I had loved dancing, as a child. I'd been told I had a gift for it. There had even been a time I'd dreamed of being a professional. It was like speaking with your body and soul. Pouring your heart out in sweat. It was a way to say what could not be said with words. I'd loved it.

But I could not love it when I wore the collar. I had buried my feelings deep, so they could not hurt me, and so the dance had been empty. Without meaning. There had been no more passion in the steps than when I walked.

Even after I had been freed by my Master, I had not danced. Not for a very long time. It had been part of one big, long, bad memory. But then, by chance, I had seen a performance in the streets and my heart had ached. I'd already lost years of my life. I could not let them take dance, too.

So I had tried dancing again. And at first, it had hurt. Every step, every stance, dredged up emotions I had numbed myself to… memories I'd buried and forgotten. But I'd stubbornly continued, and found myself channelling all the emotion into the dance. It had been raw, bitter sweet and therapeutic. I'd danced until I could barely stand. Master had scolded me afterwards, but he hadn't interrupted.

I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I found the source of my anger and the memory of pain, and began the dance. The loss of my sisters was an old wound. I had accepted their death, and my failure, but Wolfe's revelation had brought it back to the surface. Deep down I'd never truly forgiven myself. How could I? I'd promised. But I realized the pain was sharp again because it was not mine alone. I felt myself mourning for the hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions, that would suffer. For the families who would lose children, siblings and parents. And then there was the anger. Anger at those who would allow such an evil practice back into the Galaxy. Who would subject countless innocents to undeserved cruelty. It was unforgivable.

~Aayla dances an improvised and wild dance for a while.~

Half an hour later I sat down, panting. It had been a while since I'd danced so intensely. I lay back on the floor and gave myself a few minutes to recover my breath, enjoying the sensation of my muscles screaming for air.

Finally I stood. I needed some water. I hadn't realized how parched I was until the water hit my throat. I gulped it down. Refreshed, got on the lift and went up to the cockpit.

"How goes the flight? Still on track?" I asked as I stepped off the lift.

"Still on track?" I hear from behind me, slightly out of breath. I set the autopilot back on, leaving the manual control I was holding on to for fun in favor of conversation with Aayla. As soon as I turn to answer her, I see her revealing tube top damp with sweat from exertion and barely remember to finish my sentence of "The flight is going quite well... totally on track." I cringe slightly, with just my eyes, at the stumbled mumble.

Smooth. Looks like she really exerted herself. I wish I was there to see it all unfold... my mind almost totally goes off track.

Catching my thoughts, I manage to calmly ask "How was your dancing? You were gone for quite a while, and judging by the state of your clothes, you were not idle." I slide in at the end, a sly grin lightly turning up the corners of my lips.

Wolfe stumbles over his words and I'm reminded I left my robes downstairs. His cringe is somehow endearing. I decided not to examine too closely why I felt pleased I still had such an effect on him. Or why I don't dislike when his eyes linger.

"How was your dancing? You were gone for quite a while, and judging by the state of your clothes, you were not idle," he says with a sly grin. The expression is one I'm starting to become familiar with.

"Dancing was good," I say earnestly, an unguarded and genuinely happy smile spreading across my face. Master had always taught me the virtues of being able to hide one's emotions, but when I danced I abandoned that guarded mentality and sometimes forgot to reassume it when I was done.

"Are you ready to practice?"

Seeing her happy, genuinely as anyone with her decidedly arousing appearance in the clothes she's wearing could, I calmed down instantly. It felt odd to be calmed by happiness... in a warm way.

I'd become used to calming myself as a reaction to female happiness... in a cold way.

Experiencing such warmth, I was utterly incapable of doing nothing but returning it in kind by slipping my sly grin into an actually and earnestly happy smile to match her own. I remember not to use teeth quite as much as I normally would, just to be sure... not trying to intimidate the poor girl.

"I'm quite ready. Are you?"

I haven't spoken that warmly to someone since... Ahhh, nope. Not having that thought now. Too warm...

"And, uh, where to?" I add quickly, forcing the train of thought back on it's pleasant track towards exercising with Aayla, comparing exercises with Aayla, the list went on.

Wolfe's grin changed into a true smile. Maybe he likes exercising the way I like dancing? I mused.

"The ready room has a nice open space," I offer as I turn back towards the lift, waiting for him to join me. On our way down I ask. "Were there any exercises in particular you wanted to compare?"

An interesting question. What TO do first? I think about it for a moment as we enter the ready room from the rather snug fit the two of us together had in the lift.

"I was thinking of comparing and contrasting the basics, which might have the most frequent occurrences of similarity in technique and execution. What physical exercises do they teach Padawan to practice, for staying in shape?" I ask honestly. As she formulates her answer, I try my best to bring to memory the first sets of personal training I'd learned to mind to help pick out any she might show me which might be similar.