Bloodlines (Rugs)

[sparrow]

Night, and the Temple was quiet. Zarene Yin lay on her cot, asleep. Her room was in one of the more out of the way corners of the Temple. The hallways outside generally did not see much traffic, which was the way she liked it.

The room itself was a decent size, and at the moment, fairly cluttered with her stuff. Her cot was in one corner. Simple but comfortable, it took up a good deal less space than the beds that many of the other initiates preferred. In the opposite corner was her computer, holoprojector, and communications equipment, a mass of electronics and wires. A bookshelf stood against the wall, filled with various materials, both paper and electronic, ranging from Canthar's War Manual to SoroSuub's latest small-arms catalog. Half her closet was dedicated to storing her guns, a sizable collection of blasters and rifles, though her two favorite pistols were hung with her gun belt on a coat-stand near the door. A quick pull and they could be in her hands. The rest of the closet was for her clothing. A few suits of light armor, Echani-crafted, some more casual clothing, and few dresses which she didn't wear often but liked having.

She didn't remember what she had been dreaming about at the time, or if she had been dreaming at all, only that she had been awoken by something pricking her arm. Zarene sat up, brushing the strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face away, and rubbed her eyes. "Scruff, what is it?" she muttered.

Sir Scruffy, the cat, simply batted her arm again with a small paw and mewed softly before leaping into her lap, turning towards the door and hissing. Zarene had had the spotted cat for the past three years, having found him in the streets of Nar Shaddaa. And in those years she had learned that when Scruffy started acting agitated, it was best to pay attention. Her eyes scanned the room quickly. Nothing out of place. Traps by the door all operational. Armed. Pressure plate outside undisturbed... She petted the cats head, her fingers stroking his soft fur were the only part of her that moved as she sat their and listened. She thought that she could almost make out the faint sound of footsteps.

[Rugs]

The halls of the Temple were quiet now. Gone were the herds of Initiates, bright-eyed and eager to learn the ways of the Force, or for those that already knew them, the ways of Dark Side and the Sith. Gone were the troublemakers--those young upstarts that thought themselves to be better than they were, and went about stirring up trouble. No, now the Temple slept, as Korriban slept.

But not everyone within the great structure's walls was sleeping.

Visari walked alone through one of the corridors deep within the Temple's heart. The light was dim, the air still, and silent save the steady airy ring that came with every other step when his cane hit the floor. He'd come to know this Temple well over the past few months. In that time, he'd risen from the ranks of Initiate to that of a Lord, and had gained a new name with it. Phaestus, they called him now, though he still preferred to go by Visari; he'd had titles before, given his position outside of the Sith, and once you got to a certain point, they lost their 'wow' factor. To him, Phaestus was just another name. It was the authority that came with it that he liked. But still, he played along, for the most part, calling himself Lord Phaestus when needed and Visari when not.

Normally, he might have been sleeping as well, but recent events had seen to it that he could not. A while ago, Cho Wroth, of all people, had said something that had been... unexpected, perhaps? Disturbing? Noghri had a way of being able to discern bloodlines, and Cho had been so kind as to inform Visari--in front of Renata and two new recruits--that someone in the Temple shared Visari's blood, and even more so, that whoever the person in question was happened to be his offspring.

Well, that had just been a lovely surprise.

In the time since, Visari had been looking about, trying to figure out who could possible fit in. Obviously, they'd have to be an Epicanthix, so that narrowed things down a bit. From there, it was simple. Adara was too old. So was Grozmick. But there was one more who fit as a possibility: Zarene. Unless there were more of his people walking about the Temple than he knew, she was the last option.

Visari didn't know her exact age, but she was young enough to be a possibility. And that was why he found himself standing outside the door to her room now, in the middle of the night. He had to know. And if what he was suspecting was true... then perhaps she deserved to know.

He reached up with his cane to knock three times on her door. "Zarene," he called, "this is Visari! We need to talk."

[sparrow]

A knock on the door. Someone was indeed outside. So one of the Lords had decided to visit her. But the question was why. What could the man want?

Sir Scruffy scampered off of her lap as she stood up. Zarene raised her arms slowly, as one of the coats floated up from the coat-stand and settled down around her shoulders. If she was going to answer the door, she wanted to be dressed in more than just a simple silken shift when she did so.

She felt a shiver run up her leg as she stepped off her cot to approach the door. The floor was stone, and it was cold. Zarene felt a flash of irritation. What was so important that it couldn't wait until morning? With a quick application of the Force, the door slid open about half a foot, not enough for a man to enter but plenty wide enough to get a good look at who was outside.

"Lord Phaestus, what brings you here at this time of night?"

[Rugs]

"Lord Phaestus, what brings you here at this time of night?"

Visari pursed his lips at the question and sighed. He'd known it was coming--really, it was the only thing to expect with him showing up in the middle of the night the way he was--but that didn't make answering it easy.

Of course, he could have just gotten straight to the heart of things and laid his suspicion out there, but something about that didn't seem right. No, he'd have to go another way.

Before he could do any of that, though, there was one question that he needed an answer to; everything hinged on the answer to it, and depending on what it was, this late-night visit could either turn out to be nothing more than a simple 'hi/bye'. Or it could go much further.

"Zarene," he started slowly, peering through the open door back from where he stood, "I need to ask you something. It's not related to any business of the Sith, mind you--just something I need to know." There was a pause as he gathered himself, subconsciously shifting his hold on his cane.

"How old are you?"

[sparrow]

"How old am I?" Zarene arched a skeptical eyebrow. "As if this wasn't creepy enough already," she muttered. "You came all the way here in the middle of the night to ask me that?" From the corner of her eyes, she checked to make sure that her blaster was close by, able to leap into her hand at a moment's notice. Scruffy rubbed up against her leg, looked up at Visari, and hissed before running back to his little corner of the room.

She knew that someone like Visari wouldn't ask her a question like this if it wasn't somehow important to him. Yet at the same time she could not conceive of how this piece of information could be of any use to anyone. She sighed. "If it will satisfy your curiosity, I've been twenty-two as of two months ago."

[Rugs]

Visari couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself at Zarene's reaction to his question. He supposed it must have been a strange thing for her to have an old man show up to her room without warning in the middle of the night to ask about her age, of all things. But, creepy or no, it was a question that had to be asked.

"If it will satisfy your curiosity, I've been twenty-two as of two months ago."

Visari's lips stretched out into a then line. Her age fit. It fit a little too well for his liking, in fact. He sighed and closed his eyes, willing this whole situation to go away. But it wouldn't. It couldn't, not since Cho had set things in motion. If I ever see that Noghri again, I swear I'll skin him. There were some things that Visari would rather not have to deal with. This happened to be one of them.

But it was too late now. When he opened his eyes, he was still standing in front of Zarene's door and she was still there, staring at him, probably wondering what craze had befallen him to make him go stalking the halls of the Temple so late and ask the age of girls young enough to be his granddaughters.

"I suppose you're wondering why I'm asking this. I'm sure I would be, were I in your shoes," he said slowly, quietly. He sighed, wondering how to go about this.

"It is because I have reason to believe--though nothing is... assured or certain at this point--that you..." He paused again. Three more words would finish the sentence. Just three. Why was it so hard to say them? He cleared his throat.

"That you are my daughter."

[sparrow]

"Wait,... WHAT?!"

Zarene didn't know what to think. The man was crazy, completely and utterly crazy. She instinctively took a step back, so that her shoulder faced him. The metal one.

"Have you been like raiding Sylvorr's pantry because I think I need some of what you've been drinking. Or is this some sort of joke?" She was rambling now. "Do you think this is funny? You've got some sense of humor don't you? Well look at my face. This is me laughing at your funny funny joke." She laughed awkwardly.

Suddenly she looked at his eyes, and stopped. Zarene had heterochromia, eyes of different colors. Her right eye was brown, a fairly common and mundane color, but her left was emerald green. She could remember her mother from before she was taken to the Jedi Temple, who would every once in a while start telling her of a father whom she was sure would one day come back. He never did of course. She didn't remember how Mother had described him, except for the usual adjectives of handsome, dashing, and distinguished, but she did remember that Mother would say how her eye looked just like her father's.

She looked at his eyes. Just like hers. Two greens to her one.

Coincidence. It had to be. Plenty of Epicanthix had green eyes.

But he wasn't laughing. Or even smiling. He did not look amused at all.

Zarene took a deep breath. "Either you have the best sabacc face I've ever seen, or you're actually being serious..." She wasn't sure which one of the two possibilities was more disturbing.

[Rugs]

Visari only wished that this was all some cruel joke, as Zarene initially suggested. But it wasn't. He was not amused; he was not smiling. No, this was all too real for his own liking.

Maybe Wroth was wrong, he told himself, trying to make the whole situation go away. It's not like that Noghri is the sharpest knife in the drawer. And he was having those strange fits when he told me--maybe they were messing with his head. Visari knew it wasn't true, or at the very likely, wasn't very likely to not be true. Strange Cho may have been, but he possessed the ability to discern bloodlines among individuals, and at the moment, it seemed that Visari's line ran to Zarene.

"I wish that this was some joke, but it isn't," he said. He suddenly put his hand up to his forehead and rubbed it, as if he was hot; to be truthful, his head definitely felt lighter now than it did a few moments ago.

"Force," he whispered, more to himself than Zarene, though she might be able to hear it; he wasn't concerned about that now. "I told her I'd come back. I was a well known businessman overseeing a strong, growing company. Of course I'd come back for her, and then she'd move into the estates, eventually become my wife and we'd raise a family together.

"But I never did. Life got in the way. Old scars left by the past. Old wounds that never got the chance to heal and turn into scars. I thought I was done with her... but here's our seed right here. Here of all places."

He stopped muttering to himself and looked at Zarene strangely, like he'd forgotten she was standing there in the doorway. Here he was, the owner and CEO of one of the fastest-growing conglomerations in the Galaxy, and a Sith Lord to boot, having trouble because he'd just discovered a long-lost daughter.

"Ah, well uh, this is... unexpected, to say the least," Visari said, straightening himself out again into the man of respect that he was known to be and giving no outward indication that he'd just been talking to himself. "I can assure you this is just as... strange for me as it must be for you, Zarene.

"Answer me this: are you aware of the Noghris' ability to sense bloodlines?"

[sparrow]

Zarene was dumbstruck. Dozens of questions and chaotic thoughts swirled around in her head. Was this all a trick? A test by Iniquitious to see how she would react? Some scheme by Slyvorr to mess with her? No wait, that would be giving him too much credit.

Or if it was all true, did he really love Mother? Were the things Mother had said about him true, or was she as the neighbors claimed just a foolish woman with flights of fancy? Had perhaps her birth been... a mistake?

She needed time to process this information, time to think... "WHAT? Wroth? You've been listening to Cho I'm-a-weapon-of-the-Sith-but-I-can't-shut-up Wroth? You expect me to buy that?" The door slammed in his face.

Her legs felt weak. Her heart was pounding fast in her chest. Her throat felt tight and constricted. Zarene stumbled to the edge of the room, leaning against the wall for support. Why did this have to happen? And now, of all times! She had just begun finding her place in the Sith Order, carving out her own position of power within the hierarchy. For perhaps the first time in her life, she had control, control over the direction she was going, control over events that happened around her. Control and order in her life, and now she felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her feet, and that it was all slipping away. Her scars and prosthetic arm were testaments to what could happen in the absence of those things.

She swung her fist at the wall in frustration, metal knuckles impacting hard stone. She didn't want to believe any of this, and was grasping at straws trying to justify to herself why it wasn't true. She didn't want to believe, but deep down, she did. It was the worst feeling in the world.

[Rugs]

Visari had expected that this meeting might not be the smoothest affair. He'd expected disbelief, denial, even some anger. And, of course, when he revealed the reason into why he had his suspicions, he'd expected to be called some fools or something of the sort; after all Cho Wroth, strong though he may be, wasn't usually held in the highest regards, except for perhaps by Sylvorr.

And that was why he wasn't too terribly surprised when Zarene slammed the door in his face. Perhaps I should have lied about that part... Ah well, it was too late to worry about it now. Beyond that, the fact remained that, despite his... unique behavior, Cho still possessed the ability to sense bloodlines. It was his gift and his heritage as a Noghri. Visari hadn't believed it at first, but as it continued to nag at him, he'd gone off onto his own investigation, and it led him here, to Zarene.

He didn't need to see her to know storm of emotions that swirled within; he could feel it, through the Force. Visari made no move toward the door, made not motion to open it. Instead he stood there, hands resting on the head of his cane, his expression calm. He was aware of the sound of metal slamming into stone from within Zarene's room and furrowed his brow. Ah, that's right. Her arm is cybernetic.

Time passed on slowly and still he stood there, feeling as though the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. "Zarene," he finally called through the door to her with a sigh. "Look, I know the source that started all of this might be... questionable, to say the least, but you know as well as I that Wroth, strange as he is, has his uses.

"Of course, there are other methods to determine the validity of Wroth's, er... conclusion, should you want something more, ah, concrete to base things off of. I would advise it, but I could hardly show up at your door and ask you to get your DNA tested without giving you cause could I? In any event..." His cane tapped thrice on the stones lightly as his mind turned, looking for something to say. Unfortunately, his mind kept coming up blank. Here was his daughter, his own blood, and he couldn't think of something to say to her. What a shame.

"I... I'm not doing this as some joke or test. It's as stressing for me as it is you, believe me, but..." He furrowed his brow and sighed, letting his shoulders drop just a bit. "Perhaps some good can come of it."

[sparrow]

"Fine." The door slid open a few inches. There was a small knife in her hands, and she bit her lip as she slid the blade across her thumb. Drops of blood dripped from the cut into a small vial. "Just... do whatever it was you were going to do."

Her eyes narrowed. "So tell me, Netellus, what's your angle here? Let's say this is all true, why are you telling me?" She didn't know the man well, but he had a reputation for being cold, ruthless, and pragmatic. It was impossible to get to his current position, both in the Sith and in the galactic corporate world, without possessing those traits.

This was the Sith Temple. Such information, if it got out, would be seen as weakness on his part. And if there were weaknesses, someone would try to exploit them.

"Good? This would have been good to know twenty years ago," she muttered, looking down at her cybernetic right hand. Then this would never have happened...

[Rugs]

Visari took the little vial that Zarene proffered to him and looked at it for a moment before putting it away in a pocket on the inside of his coat. Then he looked to her as she spoke, noting that one of her eyes was green--the same vibrant green as his own. Perhaps there's more to Wroth than people give him credit for, he mused silently. Then again, considering the amount of credit that people around the Temple gave Cho, that wasn't really saying much.

"Why did I tell you?" He snorted, as if the answer was obvious. "Because it's your right to know, just as it's mine. Of course, you should know as well as I that this is knowledge--provided it's true--that should remain between us. While some in our Order are more sentimental than they should be, there are those that might seek to use it leverage. Wroth already made a scene with his outburst, but there are few that take him seriously, especially with his recent... episodes.

"And perhaps it may have been good to know twenty years ago," he went on. "Perhaps that's my fault, in some ways, but," he sighed and shrugged a bit, "what's done is done; the only thing to do now is live with it."

He continued to study her, noting her scars and the cybernetic limb that he'd seen so many times before. Her life hadn't been an easy one--while Visari didn't know all the details, that much was apparent. But perhaps it was worth something in the end. Perhaps those hardships had only served to make her stronger, better. Or perhaps there wasn't any way to know.

"However, while any public disclosures of this knowledge isn't advisable, there are some benefits that may come from it. I've heard you have a penchant for ranged weapons, correct?" The edge of his lips turned up in a sort of smirk. "It happens that I have access to some of the finest that money can buy. Should you ever find yourself needing something, seek me out.

"Additionally, I've heard it said you spent some time working in the criminal underworld, yes? Tell me, how much experience did you have there? We might be able to put that to some use."

{Not entirely sure if he'd know about that last part, really >.> If it's something she keeps secret, just let me know}

[sparrow]

(( It's not very common knowledge, and he probably wouldn't know the specifics ))

She nodded. "Yes, I suppose I can see how this could be beneficial to the both of us." Sir Scruffy had returned, rubbing against her leg again, and she bent down to pick him up, holding him in her arms. The cat looked at Visari and hissed, but stopped once Zarene began scratching his ears. "Though perhaps we should ascertain the truth of the matter first, Mr. Netellus."

She tried to maintain an outward showing of calm, but she knew that Visari could probably sense that inside she was anything but. All those questions needed answers. The hanging threads needed closure. And the future... the possibilities.... No. Until that blood was tested, she needed to contain her anticipation. No use getting excited just yet.

But as for his question,... "Yes, I do happen to have some contacts there." She still made use of some of them in fact, mostly the ones from the Exchange spynet and intelligence agencies. She wasn't sure how much of her employment with the Exchange he knew about, and decided not to reveal any more before getting a better sense of what he knew. Her time as an Exchange assassin wasn't exactly a secret, but neither were the details well known. The galaxy had many famous bounty hunters and assassins. She was not one of them. Having one employer meant never having to acquire fame and recognition to secure contracts. She had preferred it that way. "As for experience, I fought at Bakura and Yaga Minor and Druckenwell. You know what I can do."

[Rugs]

"Ah, excellent," Visari said with a nod. It was indeed good news. What Visari knew of Zaren's background was vague, though there was some mention of some kind of work in the underworld. The details of it escaped him, but if it were true, as it seemed to be, it was something they might be able to put to good use, with benefits for both of them, and for the Sith's aims to boot. And her record was impressive, to boot, especially her near-assassination of the Supreme Chancellor on Druckenwell. Visari Enterprises had sponsored the broadcast of the event, with the hope that the Galaxy would watch as the second Chancellor was killed before their very eyes, but the Jedi got in the way. Not that the end result of that was anything to complain about. The fact that the Sith had almost killed the Chancellor, and had gotten close enough to do it, right under the noses of the Jedi, might prove to be a sufficient blow to morale. But, on the other hand, such a brazen attack on the Republic, one that involved the death of thousands of innocent people might turn out to be a rallying cry for their enraged countrymen. Only time would tell.

"That experience might prove to be very useful, for both of us, but I believe we shall indeed wait to see what comes of the blood test before we go off putting the horse before the cart." He idly put a hand to his coat, feeling the little vial that rested in its pocket through the fabric. Such a small thing, with such potentially far-reaching implications...

"Answer me this, Zarene," he said slowly, after a moment of silence. "Working with the assumption that this is true, that when the test comes back, I'm proven to be your father..." He paused then, meeting her eyes levelly with his own. "What are your... thoughts on this predicament? I can't imagine that you wouldn't have any, for something like this."

Of course, there were the currents of the Force that swirled around her, and he could try picking her brain telepathically if he really wished it, but he didn't. No, Visari believed that if he was going to find out what she thought of this, or if her view of him had changed, it would be best to hear it from her mouth, of her own accord. That and he wasn't in the habit of going around and digging into people's minds willy-nilly.

[sparrow]

"I... I have question, and I want answers," she replied. "But until there's certainty, there's no point asking now." It wasn't just that. She needed some time to process this. How many nights had she lay there wondering what kind of person her missing parent was?

So much wondering, and now the answer was here, right in front of her. In her dreams she had imagined how such a reunion would go, but right now she had absolutely no idea how to react to this confrontation. She knew so little amount him, some basic facts, his titles, history with the Order. A more thorough search of the reports database could probably reveal some more. Maybe.

"Until we find out, we should both get some sleep. I need to be awake tomorrow. I'm guessing you probably do too."

[Rugs]

"So be it," said Visari with little more than a slight nod of his head. "We will speak on it later, should things pan out in a matter that calls for such." He shifted and picked his cane up a bit, holding it just under the rounded head rather than with his hand resting on top of it. "Until then, I'll leave you to the rest of your night."

He turned to leave her then, doing just that. All in all, that talk was one he was glad to have out of the way. True, it was one he would have preferred to never have, but since the Noghri had decided to reveal that Visari had a child running around the Temple loudly enough for anyone that was had at least some capacity for hearing, and Visari knew he had to take things into his own hands, before the information came out in a way that wouldn't do.

In the mean time, he'd head back up to the Ballestra which was, as per usual, parked in orbit above Korriban. There were facilities within the Temple that he could take the blood vial to, but he wouldn't risk it. Claims of privacy or not, that'd put information into the system--information he wanted to have as tight a hold on as possible. 'Brotherhood' or no, the Sith order was filled with individuals that were only working for their own goals, and gaining such knowledge might, in some fashion, provide some sort of tool to use against him. Or perhaps it wouldn't. One didn't get to the position Visari held by being reckless, though.

And so, once he'd reached the Ballestra again, he'd be making a short trip, back to his homeworld, Panatha. For one, one of the main branches of Visari Enterprises was there, as would be expected, and it had been a while since he'd made a business stop there, and secondly, he could get it tested there, away from the prying eyes and agendas that waited within the Sith Temple. It was an extra layer of security; nothing more, nothing less.

[sparrow]

Zarene went back to her room, but she did not sleep. How was she going to sleep again after what had just happened? She plopped down onto her desk chair, switched on her computer. Her fingers were a blur of motion over the keyboard, combing through intel databases and typing out searches, to find whatever information she could on the man named Visari Netellus.

The corporate biographies were flowery but contained little substance. Old articles about his company were slightly more useful. Visari Enterprises Looks to Expand to Off-planet Markets, from a Pananthan news source, was dated a bit over twenty years ago. It fit the timeline.

Product catalogs from his company, she'd have to look through those sometime.

Hmm... let's see... joined the Sith Order at roughly the same time as Charill Sylvorr.... Associated with the Dominion.... That fact troubled her. Zarene had a tendency to avoid these so-called Dominionites. Leaches, she thought. One could be loyal to the Sith, or to the Dominion. But not both. Perhaps the interests of the two groups were currently aligned, but if they ever diverged...

No, not if. When.

Did that make Netellus a potential enemy? But if he really was her father... Too many questions. Too many unknowns. She was starting to get a headache. Logic interfering with emotions, emotions interfering with logic. On the opposite corner of the room, Sir Scruffy played with a ball of tangled yarn, rolling it across the floor and then chasing after it.

Things could never be simple, could they?

She brought up an old photo of her mother on the screen. In the picture, her mother was standing, smiling, carrying several large rolls of cloth under her arm. Silk, satin, and lace. She found a photo of Visari, taken at an old press conference some twenty years ago. His hair hadn't been completely white then. Zarene placed the two old photos next to each other on the screen. She leaned back in her chair, stared at the photos. The corner of her lip curled upwards in a very slight smile.

The pictures were still on her computer screen when she awoke the next morning, having fallen asleep at her desk.