Star Wars: Jarael and Zayne

Chapter Two

The Slave Ship came to bedrock not far from the structures of stone that formed a small city. Several Sith T-Model fighters flew by, their tradmark circular windows lit crimson and the frame with pointed wings of obsidian. The Cargo Bay opened and there standing in metallic armor were soldiers with rifles, and on figure cloaked in shadow, a hood obscuring his face. Jarael walked in front of Ithorians that were chained together and motioned by Hunter Killer droids to move forward. The Arkkanian approached the Sith whose hood exposed a grin.

"Punctual as always, Slaver."

Jarael clinched her teeth. She did not particularly like being this close to a Sith. She kept her pale palm on the hand of his blaster pistol that sat idle in its holster.

"As promised, forty labors to build in your shipyards."

The Sith made a hiss.

"Excellent. As requested, payment will be in gold talents."

A Silver Soldier stepped forward with a case.

"I would be inclined to press you take Sith holocoins, for one might infer you do not believe our empire will succeed in defeating The Republic."

Jarael cracked a smile, it was all for pretense.

"Not at all my Lord, I will gladly accept holocoin if, I mean when you achieve victory. Alas, I am forced to mine human souls deep in the Inner Rim to meet quota. And they have not yet adopted your currancy."

Jarael said this with a tinge of feminine guile, throwing her hair back and smiling to sell it.

"You have a talented tongue Slaver, but through the dark side I know better. I can read your thoughts, you wear them like the markings on your skin."

The Arkkanian sighed.

"If my product is not agreeable.. tell Lord Kull,."

The Sith interrupted her.

"It is fine. Your secrets are safe with me. You deliver on time and with healthy cargo. I will overlook your lack of faith in the Empire, for now."

The Soldier handed the metal case full of gold blocks to Jarael. She took it with her free hand.

"Tell me.. Lord.. I am sorry, I don't know your name."

The Sith turned back, his hood flapping in the wind.

"Sion, Lord Sion."

The Sith then marched away with his troopers, the chained Ithorians in tow.