-Quinn-

The experience, so far, had been unnerving. I hadn't known—I doubted anyone knew—Her Lordship had difficulties with total immersion. It was less exploitable than, say, claustrophobia or something of that nature, but for Sith even small phobias can be dangerous.

So, big or small, easy to exploit or difficult, it was a detail I could appreciate not going past these walls.

And let us hope the necessity of a kolto tank never becomes an issue. I don't like to think of the dosages of sedatives would be needed to keep her from smashing her way out in a panic. The idea, as much as I didn't like to think about it, went on my shortlist for 'in case it becomes an issue, have a plan of action.'

Her Lordship's actual words as she stood in the waters were inaudible, though the rise and fall of her voice certainly reached me. After what seemed a calm but engaging conversation, her lightsabers ignited and she thrashed about in the water for several minutes before… it was over, I suppose.

This was followed by another inaudible, one-sided conversation.

Rather than finish scrubbing off—which I would have recommended—she waded out of the water, looking both thoughtful and preoccupied. Only once she was out of the water did she give me her attention. "Thank you for your patience, Quinn. It's all yours. Once we've finished, washed, and rested, we will finish the journey. We don't have long to wait."

There was enough finality in her words that I knew suggesting she wash up now as opposed to later would be pointless. I couldn't honestly say I was ungrateful about it. "Thank goodness." The words just sort of jumped out, breaking free of my dedicated attempts not to brood over the horrific climate and, by paying it attention, make it harder to ignore.

So far on this journey, it's been a toss-up between which world I'd prefer being on: Nar Shaddaa or this overheated sandbox.

And I couldn't say I was looking forward to whatever Force-strangeness was here. The oddest sensation seemed to gather within this cavern, something palpable but altogether intangible, almost like a conversation in another room of which one cannot hear more than peaks and lulls in tone.

Only it wasn't really sound.

I am not Force Sensitive, so I shouldn't really be affected by all this… strangeness.

I refuse to call it 'Sith sorcery.'

With a sigh, I waded down to the water, staying in the shallows as Her Lordship had done, washing briskly to get the gunk off. I didn't think I could stand going through whatever-it-might-be covered in this… filth. Mud or sand, or any natural muck I could deal with; Sand Demon blood, though? That's a little extreme and I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks so.

If full immersion was required, I had control over when—or if—this questionable experience would start. If not… I was in for a surprise when it did. I wasn't entirely certain I wanted to go through with this ritual. It seems to me such things should be reserved for those whom it was intended…

…although I'm sure Her Lordship would argue that if it is one of those things that affects everyone who follows the steps required then anyone who follows the steps is the intended audience.

To my surprise, the gunk all came off fairly easily, almost melting and diffusing rather than required scraping and encouragement as though it wanted to be away from me as much as I wanted to be away from it. The shirt was a loss, but I expected as much.

As I contemplated the sandy bottom of the oasis after scrubbing my face—and hopefully her lipstick mark off. I had to wonder if she wasn't serious about ensuring no one doubted where I belonged when she put it there; I also had to wonder how much of the sand present hadn't been brought from the Sand Demon's cave via roundabout route to here.

Finally, I took a deep breath and sunk beneath the waterline, borne down by increasing curiosity.

When I surfaced, nothing had changed except that I was completely wet instead of mostly wet.

It was with a sense of disappointment that I brushed the moisture from my face and swept my hair out of my eyes. It was when I turned around that I jumped in surprise—actually jumped. And stumbled as I stepped back.

Standing between me and the shoreline was a kind of duplicate… only dressed in the long robes of a Sith with amber eyes and an expression of cool amusement. "Surprise," he smirked.

…I honestly didn't know what to say.

"That's because you're the most ridiculous idiot in the history of idiots and it's good to be able to tell you so," my double responded as though I'd voiced the comment out loud. "So, here you are and here I am. It's good you succumbed to—you won't need that, Malavai." He broke off, eyes tracking the slow slide of my hand towards my pistol.

Suddenly, Her Lordship's jumping around with her lightsaber made sense.

"It's different for us. We aren't Sith, or Jedi, and but for quirk of fate you will never be either. Thus, there's no need for fighting and it would be counterproductive."

"So what now? We simply converse?" I asked dubiously.

"You sound so surprised. I'm certainly not here to dance with you. Since this is an exercise leading to enlightenment, enlighten me: why have you done nothing about that fantastic creature just there?" he turned to regard Her Lordship appreciatively, despite the fact she sat with her back to us, apparently meditating.

"I am not having this conversation with anyone—including you." Then, on balance and not without some suspicion, "Especially with you."

"It's a far more pleasing topic than the one I'm really here about," my double noted grimly, eyebrows arching. "Take your pleasures where you can."

Is that… really how I look when I do that?

"I refuse to have a teenager's conversation with a double of myself. What you're suggesting is inappropriate—"

"Well, that's the first place you're going wrong. The only 'appropriate' match for someone like her would be some corroding fleshbag with a high concentration of metal parts sitting on the Dark Council and you well know it. If she chooses to seek elsewhere for a lover, why not us?"

I refused to answer the question; I refused to ponder the question.

When it became obvious I wasn't going to say a word on the subject, my double gave me a look of mild distaste. "Very well. Suit yourself." My double proceeded to prowl around me, taking me in from every angle before stopping his circuit behind my shoulder. "Let's talk about Darth Baras instead," he breathed.

I turned sharply to face him, glaring, aware that he had breath to tickle my ear… which was unnerving in the extreme.

"I told you the topic I'm here for was unpleasant. We can still go back to the pleasant subject, if you like… for a time," my double offered almost cheerfully.

"Darth Baras need not be concerned about me—"

"No, Malavai. You need to be concerned about him," my double broke, in seriously, grim certainty and hatred marking his every pale feature. "How long do you think it will be before he tries to destroy our lady Sith? Who do you think he'll use to do it? Who is better positioned to do it? Who is clever enough, and cunning enough, and far enough into her good graces to get close enough to do it?" Again, he arched his eyebrows inviting me to fill in the blanks.

The questions were beyond insidious.

"Her Lordship is a faithful servant—"

"So was Rylon. So was Dellocon."

"They were compromised."

"They were murdered for assurance. You know very well the patterns Sith games take and you, my fine fellow, are in them up to your neck." My double lifted his right hand, waving his fingers vaguely. Something like an invisible fist closed over my throat, a snug grip that made a point without causing damage. "So, what will you do?" he continued. "Baras saved your career, that's true, but Her Lordship aids the Empire itself at every turn that presents itself—always with posturing and whatnot, but that's a Sith for you. Baras traded your cage for chains… but you know she needs no such tricks." My double smiled. "You already belong to her in a way you never belonged to Darth Baras—apart from the obvious ways. He gained your service out of your own sense of obligation—something he surely knew he could twist to his benefit. She gains your service out of a true dedication and is probably well aware that Baras wanted you close to her. What does all that tell you?"

"That you have excellent insight," I admitted grudgingly as the pressure on my throat relaxed.

"At least you recognize it. Now, what are you going to do? It is best to plan ahead with these things."

"Planning too far ahead one way or the other means the plan ends up obsolete before the issue to which it pertains becomes an issue," I reminded him. "Especially if Her Lordship feels impish."

"True. But I have something in mind that will benefit from time to grow, something you can do now, in advance. And it's a lovely plan in that you can do whatever you want with it—side with whom you will as you see fit."

I remained silent, wondering if I really wanted to hear this.

"It doesn't hurt to listen, Malavai. And whatever else I am, I am dedicated to your interests." At my brisk nod, he continued, pacing as he spoke. "You're a clever man and Her Lordship is a warrior unlike most. She needs challenges to keep herself sharp. Create a program for her practice droids, something that will 'learn' the longer she works with it. You know she'll appreciate the gesture. Let her train the dagger to be slipped between her ribs. Or let her train so she may survive whatever battles come."

I weighed this plan wondering at myself for not having told this… thing… to leave me be.

"Because my plan leaves you a choice," my double responded. Suddenly, as if a sound caught his attention. "I must go. The effects of the ritual are wearing off. Do this thing, Malavai, and decide later. Just be prepared."

"You want to keep her alive, don't you?" Suddenly, the double was gone, little more than a distorted image in the water.

"Don't you?"

The conversation left me feeling cold as I turned and waded out of the shallows. I took a few more moments to rinse down again, then waded out of the waters. "My lord, I believe my part in this has concluded." To my relief, my voice sounded steady, as though I wasn't at all perturbed.

"Thank the Force!" she sighed, sounding much brighter and less preoccupied than she had upon exiting the waters. As she passed me, going down for her wash, she paused. "Did you find it enlightening?"

"Quite, my lord. I appreciate the opportunity." I didn't know what else to say. It had certainly given me many things to ponder.

And it had unnerved me more than a little.

She patted my shoulder, looking pleased, then waded in, leaving me with my own tangled and uncomfortable thoughts.