After a thorough check of the ship, she returned to the small quarters and unloaded her gear. Her belongings consisted of two blasters, clothing, extra credits, and some personal items from her old home. She removed a small red gem, much like the one she wore on her forehead, from the recesses of her travel bag. It was strung on a fine chain of blue gold and was generally used as an amulet for protection. She decided to hang it up in the cockpit for luck. Pleased with her choice, she pockected the amulet and sifted through her clothing. After placing them in a compartment above the good-sized cot, she sat down on the cot and removed her boots. It had been a long day and she relished the chance to rest. She would think about her next destination when she rose.
Barely a few hours had passed when she heard a great what-to-do going on outside of her ship. Dirae quickly put her boots back on and snatched up a blaster. Her hand barely grazed the button that lowered the hatch on her ship as she hurried outside. Crowds of people were scurrying away from a pub, some shouting for help and others just shouting out of fear. Dinae frowned and weaved her way through the crowds to poke her head in the pub doorway. Seated at the bar was a robed figure. He sat alone yet there were bar stools strewn all about him. Dinae suspected a brawl or perhaps they were tipped over by frightened patrons. The barkeep seemed to be shaking in his very boots as he listened to the robed man seated before him.
“I’ll ask again, what happened to the two Jedi with the boy?” he hissed in a deadly calm tone. The barkeep stammered out an answer.
“I--I don’t know! I heard they left!” he stuttered. The figure seemed to groan in exasperation at the terrified and misinformed barman.
“Where?” he demanded, standing and drawing out a weapon of sorts. Dirae squinted from her place behind a wall. It seemed to be a metal thing that couldn’t have been more than a foot long. From one end of the weapon streamed a long red beam. Dirae recognized it as a lightsaber yet she didn’t understand why the handle was so long. The figure balanced the tip of the saber before the man’s eyes and asked again:
“Where?” This time the words came out in a low gutteral growl. Suddenly another man ran out from the back of the pub and slammed an iron staff on the figure’s shoulder. He growled in anger, the lightsaber swinging swiftly to relieve the attacker of his weapon...and his arm at the elbow. The man howled in pain and fell to the floor. During the fuss, the figure’s hood had slipped off to reveal a horned head painted black and red. Dirae gasped. He was a Zabrak!
“Everywhere I go, there’s these fools who think they can challenge a Sith lord,” he spat in contempt at the moaning man on the floor. “I grow tired of them.” With that he flipped his saber over and severed the man’s head from his body. Dirae was captivated by his skill and grace despite herself. He wasn’t terribly tall but his presence more than made up for it. Darkness seemed to surround him as if he had bathed in the inky blackness of night and emerged as a darker being then before. An almost animal lust and passion for drawn blood accompanied the darkness, making him a formidable creature.
Dirae felt sweat trickle down her forehead and over the tip of her nose. Sweat also trailed a path between her breasts and down her back. He was...amazing! The evil of him would’ve warned any other person except Dirae. She felt seduced by it and yearned to be closer to this temptation before her. Without heeding the possible danger of approaching this person, she rushed from her hiding place, breathless.
He turned just in time to meet her green eyes looking into his yellow ones. His expression was fixed in that of silent anger, her’s was one of pure yet evil joy. It looked as though someone had waved a sweet fragrance over her face. His eyes squinted up as he stared at her.
“What do you want?” he asked in that smooth voice. Dirae felt her knees buckle. To men like him heistation was meant for the weak. She licked her lips before speaking.
“Are you..really Sith?” she asked in a hushed tone. He stepped closer to her, backing her into a wall. The scent of blood mingled with sweat drifted over her as he stared into her eyes. A darker, more seductive scent mixed with the previous, fully intoxicating her senses.
“Yes. I am. What does it mean to someone like you?” he replied, his head tilting to the side slightly. He seemed to resemble a wild animal eyeing his prey, deciding whether of not he should devour them.
“I wish to be like you,” Dirae answered thickly. That was only half true, she was also taken in by his prowess. He made a mocking sound in his throat and turned away from her. The essence of him remained with her even as he did so. She withdrew her long held in breath and attempted to relax against the wall. He whipped his head around to stare at her again over his shoulder. Those animal eyes raked over her body, making her sweat all the more.
“You are like me already,” he said finally. “Zabrak.” Dirae nodded slowly and dared to step forward.
“Yes, but I wish to be Sith. Train me. I’m skilled, an excellent fighter, I--” He held up a hand to silence her.
“I’m no master. I already have a master and I serve only him. Find another master,” he said sullenly, replacing his hood and leaving the pub. Frowning, Dirae rushed out after him.
Groups of people moved out of his way as he stalked towards a large ship parked a few feet away from the small town. Dirae broke into a run and caught up with him.
“Take me to him then! I can serve him just as well as you!” she said with determination. “I know who you are. You’re the exile from our planet; the one who left and was supposedly killed. Now I see you are not dead and already a Sith lord. The Jedi--” He swung around to stare her down with his eyes.
“What do you know of the Jedi?” he demanded. Dirae lifted her chin higher and replied calmly:
“I know enough.” He searched her eyes with his own.
“Do you have a ship?” he asked finally. Containing her eagerness, she nodded and gestured to the right where her ship stood. He eyed it then started walking back towards his own ship. “Then you may follow me. If my master doesn’t think you’re good enough, you’ll either be killed for knowing too much or be used. It’s your choice if you want that for yourself.”