A Reluctant Sith

Chap 14

Ahrie stood atop the customized yacht looking back at the Star Destroyer in the distance, sitting in the ravine, under a cold, gray sky. The rising tower was now only half as high as it was when it landed there. And what was left was all structural skeleton. Sho said he expected they would be done scrapping the entire ship in another standard year.

The reforming central government had promised him as many as he could scrap. Droids worked all day and night to dig and blast another ravine on the other side. He was also hard at work hiring more crews.

Ahrie watched as her team of maintenance droids finished fastening all of the yacht's external plating in place. The droids would then spray the outside with a material that allowed the crew to change the ship's colors at will.

Doing the work to get the high powered, hyperspace capable engines and the heavy weapons to not stick out had given her a number of ideas for improvements for her own ship, should she ever find her way back to it.

Snow had just begun to fall when she heard men yelling up at the front. Voices she did not recognize. Yelling Sho's name. Threats.

"Rop," Ahrie said.

"Mistress," said one of the humanoid droids on his hands and knees working a tool to secure fasteners.

"Any idea what the yelling is about?"

"Some men have arrived to threaten Sho. Extort, I believe is the word."

"I'll be back," Ahrie said as she leapt to the ground and sprinted up to the front. When she saw the visitors, she slowed. Dropped her hardhat. Shook her hair loose.

"Pay up old man!" Said the oldest of the six men collected around the door to the non-flyable ship which had become Sho's home and office. They were all dressed in thick, heavy coats. Old and threadbare. A mix of fading colors. All showing signs of numerous repairs. Patches. Their breathing clouded the air in front of their faces. All of them had weapons in the hands.

Ahrie could sense fear in three of them. Younglings. Two of the others were young men. Confident in their ability to roll an old man. And the last one. Much older than all the others. Their leader. Arrogant.

One of the younglings took notice of her arrival. He turned and made threatening motions with the club in his hand.

She could see Sho standing in the doorway. Had never seen him with a weapon in his hands. Did he call his security droids?

"Sho," Ahrie said. "These men causing problems?"

"That's her," said one of the young men, poking the oldest. The leader.

Ahrie recognized the young man from her walk through the woods. The day she arrived. And two of the younglings as the ones she tripped as they tried to chase after her.

The oldest turned to face her. The facial scars said he was a scrapper. Lost some. Won some. And he had an old and worn blaster in his hand.

He pulled the hood back on his coat. He was bald. His head covered in black tattoos and scars. Ahrie could sense growing doubt behind his eyes.

He pointed his blaster at Ahrie.

"I've heard people tell stories about your kind. That the Emperor and Darth Vader summoned you in some dark ritual. That hundreds of you flooded out through a portal from some other dimension, bound to their twisted will. Set upon any planet, people, or star system which refused to bend the knee to Palpatine."

"I wasn't summoned," Ahrie said. "But, I was bound to his will. And now that they're both dead, I am bound to my own. Why are you here?"

"Are you not cold?"