Ciphered Holos

So she'd made another call to Venrirr. Through Dimmy still, because she had no direct way to get ahold of the man, but she'd called for another favor.

At least this one hadn't involved Shadows and Jedi, hadn't involved more death and blood. It'd been, all things considered, relatively harmless.

An operating license for Imperial space. A small - but incredibly vital - thing. And this time she'd needed a real Sith to back it, one with obvious clout and a sterling reputation. She could've asked Dimmy for the hand but with the implants out and the chance they'd need to meet high she'd opted, once again, to owe something to Venrirr.

And the price? It'd been... smaller than she expected. She already owed the man one nameless favor and she'd learned her lesson after that, remembering some more of the ebb and flows of Sith politics. So she'd asked what it'd cost her and the price had been answering a question. One she could even think over.

There'd been conditions of course, caveats later that she'd expected. The company would be bound closer to Imperial interests than it'd ever been before because she'd had to agree to them. It wasn't just her name that'd be under investigation if allegations of mis-conduct came to light but her new-found partner's and he? He had the ability to make her life hell now. Or to end it.

She wouldn't entertain the misplaced notion that she could mystically beat the man in a duel. It'd take luck and skill if she was going to do that and she was woefully out of practice. Maybe that was why she'd offered that if she ever betrayed him, the fight would be one to remember. Because it'd have to be.

That means traitors. Whatever company name she revived Sanguine as, she'd agreed to uphold Imperial law with it. It meant no more helping Jade Company with the offices or giving them supplies and shelter, as small as their operation was now that they'd gone public. It meant shady business, dealing with Sith, and everything Sanguine had done before except this time she could (and to be honest, had no one to) give information to the Republic on who was fighting whom, who was weakened...

Then he'd asked for something impossible. No matter what Sriia and her discussed - rationally it'd turned out, though she'd more than half expected it to come to blows for betraying her friend so thoroughly - she couldn't imagine giving Venrirr anything on Sriia's movements, or other information.

She might have to answer one question still but she was hopeful she could get out of that arrangement.

Who are your real allies. The answer looked more and more like she was staring into murk and mire. Venrirr - and Dimmy - had helped her. Venrirr even called her an ally, a word not used lightly by a Sith. But then she had her friends... Torlem, Akkai, Sriia, Jean, just a few that came to mind. And all of them she'd betray. She'd lost so many already through no fault but her own, leaning back in the seat she'd settled in to, and every day she dallied with the Sith she risked losing more.

But her hands itched to play now and she could turn her talents as easily to the dark side of the Force with little loss. She could still heal, though it'd caused Jev pain. She could still help - but now.... now it was more complicated.

Because she didn't know if her promise to Venrirr now bound her hands from helping her friends when they came back from missions. Maybe she could play fast and loose with the rules, hoping that he meant the company had to abide by Imperial interests. It was a small, insignificant, loophole but the only one she had.

She kept making mistakes. Soon she was going to screw herself out of the only other otions she had, if she kept reacting instead of thinking first.

She'd promised to talk with Akkai and maybe even she could reach out to the Shadow she knew. Anything was worth keeping another option - other than defection - open.

----

Three-one-six. After the drop-ship had rendezvoused with the cruiser to lift them out Book had slowly started to shiver, arms tucked close to hide the shaking of her hands. She could blame it on the cold. That same voice which had haunted her and driven her to utterly irrational actions against droids had been back, the droids had beenscreaming at her mind and she'd made herself function. But seeing them again, in the number she'd known were out there but had been too afraid to voice...

She'd eventually been able to do nothing more than wrap arms around herself, hugging her bruised and cracked ribs far too tight for comfort, and sink to the floor. There'd been too much else going on around them for anyone to notice - a fact she'd been thankful for - and the world had faded out for her. It'd left her with that voice echoing, that number repeating, that utter fear seeping into her blood. She'd been moving past it but seeing Hostility droids crawling out, ripping and rendering, covering themselves in flesh as their skins rotted away - she reached for the bottle she'd grabbed from the shelf.

Book prided herself on the fact that she didn't drink as often as she used to. She'd put the bottles aside, stopped the liver-damaging trips to every seedy bar in Nar Shaddaa near where she lived. Three-one-six kept echoing in her head though, Hostility's voice kept ringing in her ears and she needed something to drown it out or she'd never get the sleep every body needed to function.

She'd managed to escape Bennet - Wilson Bennet, the man who knew her record and who'd gun her down given half a chance - and whatever he'd have said about her presence. She'd dragged Jean and Mildred to hell too, dragged them to the fights with Hostility that they had no place being dragged to. The mercenaries... the base had been wiped out. Slaughtered. And she knew what was happening to them all - what had happened to them all.

In the face of that knowledge getting blisteringly drunk and suffering from a hangover the next day was a happy alternative to remembering.

You will be re-purposed.

Book didn't even bother with a glass this time, lifting the bottle to her lips and gulping from it until the burn down her throat had gone away and she needed to breathe. Oh she knew what was and had happened to those men. She didn't think everyone else had truly grasped that yet, known why death was infinitely better. Why she'd been willing to kill the dying mercenaries before Hostility ripped their skin off.

There were thousands of them. She could check that control signal she'd sliced her way to any time just to see their numbers, the infected planets where they manufactured themselves and slept; Hostility was gathering numbers and strength until they could do to anywhere what they did on Terminus Prime.

She didn't think anyone knew why she'd periodically just stopped moving. Her leg ached, the thigh wound she'd taken during one night of Hostility's tender care reminding her of everything it'd done to her. And that'd been one. Another pull from the bottle followed that memory rising. She shook the bottle after that drag from it, hearing the liquid sloshing around. Good - she had more.

It'd taken her the entire trip back to force herself out of the shaking. She'd gone silent, offering nothing - she'd shown Akkai the tracker program she'd come up with. He hadn't questioned it. None of the motley crew who'd been present had questioned why she knew about Hostility and could identify it. Akkai had known too. He'd seen Hatty's droid around long enough to know them. That Hostility had attacked her on sight.

Bad droid! It was one of the few things related ot Hostility that made her smile and she was drunk enough to remember the running on the Promenade, being chased by Hostility while Hatty shouted at it like a let-loose akk dog.

Some point Book fell asleep, the empty bottle in her hand; her nightmares were replays of Terminus Prime but this time the party - her friends - were dragged off, one by one, until it was her and the Hostility they'd faced at the end of the base. She was alone against it and then suddenly she couldn't move, dropping to the ground the same way she'd dropped when Hostility had done something to her at Proteus' base.

And then it crooned. Screamed. And the nightmare continued, flesh slowly sliced off as it screamed and screamed and then she'd been able to move but her flesh was melting and pulled off, held down by a swarm of droids she couldn't escape from.

Starting awake as she heard the shiiiink of their retractable blades, Book had staggered to the bathroom, curling back up on herself once her stomach was empty and this time the shaking didn't ease, didn't stop.