Clearing The Way (Baba Yaga)

[Nightender]

As the slave felt tension in her arms, she looked out, seeing the intense light of the sun. There were few things that gave her joy or inspiration, but the light was one of them.

Sith passed by her, ignoring her or taunting her. She did not mind. It was her place to obey and serve, a lesson that had taken root after years of work. Jessa kept any aspirations of conquest far from her mind. Her inner self had adapted enough where she was proud to be a Sith slave.

She continued to sweep, keeping the entrance to the Temple as clear of dust as she could manage. If she didn't, there would be consequences, but the likelihood of her failure had become none. Jessa would obey.

[Poludnica]

Theme

Sand, so much sand. It crawled into ever small space, clogged every opening, invaded every crevice. Golden dust danced on hot winds, carried with heated currents. Danica felt her ivory pumps crunching the tiny silicates, making annoying sound that was amplified by thick, the Sith's Temple tall, thick walls. The hallways were surprisingly busy with many smatterings of assorted races sleepily passing her by – Initiates, knights, simple servants. At first the Coruscanti woman felt overwhelmed by this diversity – after she grew up in the Core, Cassius made sure his child met only proper 'human' crowd. Now Danica knew it wasn't normal, that her father had been silent renewed Pius Dea supporter but no matter how far she was from home – some things would always stay.

Most knew her by now, some greeted respectfully, others only nodded – all of them certainly knew by now Danica wasn't only Renata's new associate by a romantic partner of the Firrerreo Sith Lord. Nieraan had a problem with this, a problem he didn't hide and from time would bring up this issue which led to heated arguments. Short, passionate clashes that ended always the same way. Not today though, today Danica decided to exact a small revenge. No one had stopped her from invading Nieraan's quarters and now, content like a spoiled feline, she walked toward the main entrance and the courtyard. Playing with the newly acquired, rather hideous burgundy skullcap that didn't see a washing machine in ages. The thing stood in a very sharp contrast with an elegant, light green dress that reached to the tip of her toes. She wasn't really accustomed to thin, flowing dresses – different style dominated in the Core: better fitted, giving less freedom. That was how Danica had felt when serving in her father's empire.

Korriban's sun mercilessly whipped the surface with searing rays, leaving the courtyard outside almost empty – whoever found themselves there quickly sought a cold hideout. Danica stopped there, pondering which way led to her speeder: as always suffering from terrible spatial orientation. Her attention was quickly drawn to a source of a strange noise nearby. Swooshswoosh The dark haired woman looked to her right, then left, finally finding a human woman with fair hair. Danica tried to remember if she had seen this one before: rather pretty, not very tall, looking down on the ground below. What a pointless job... The woman thought, silently watching the girl. She looked younger but not a very young adult – mid twenties maybe. There was something inexplicably sad in this image – the way others treated her. Passing without a single gaze.

Raised among ideas of human superiority Danica denied her father's radical Pius Dea ideas but one couldn't simply forget about the upbringing. Rooting it out. Looking at a servant girl she could so readily identify with own existence stirred something strange. The woman might have been capricious, emotional, often cruel but often simply building a defense around a fragile interior. She preferred to alienate people rather than attach but didn't lack empathy – even if cut it off more than often – when own conscience didn't let her sleep.

”Go take a break, it's really pointless.” Danica offered. ”No one will really notice a difference.” Her voice wasn't really kind, nor cold. Matter-of-factly, a bit amused. Rich Coruscanti lilt betrayed the woman's pedigree – higher class from the Core. A mannerism she simply couldn't get rid of.

[Nightender]

Perhaps she was a higher-class woman. Perhaps it was mercy or kindness that motivated her. Jessa did not know which it might have been. Only that the woman passing by her had sought to speak to a lowly slave.

"My lady?" Jessa asked. She admired the woman's flowing dress. There had been times when Jessa wished she could dress like the woman before her. It was a time when Jessa prided her appearance, but that was something long past.

"I have to make sure the Temple entrance is flawless. If I take a break, my duty will not be done." The slave lowered her head, shameful that she might disobey a Sith, and even more fearful of failing another.

Looking at the stone floor beneath the woman's feet, Jessa asked, "May I clean during my break?" She wasn't meant to pause her duties and only with the sharpest thought would she be able to survive the trial the woman had given her through a simple pair of phrases.

[Poludnica]

My lady. Danica almost cringed at the title. Born into wealth, she constantly had some form of help around. Cooks, cleaning help, drivers. They were always human but Cassius made sure to treat them as employers with all benefits that came with it. From early age the young woman had been taught to respect her own, the notion of human slavery was an outlandish concept Liviana abhorred. She wasn't a little girl anymore, not even keeping in touch with the horrible father upbringing couldn’t be easily neglected. ”It's Danica.” The Coruscanti woman offered, if a bit impatiently.

For a moment the slave's eyes drifted to her, the dress, frame. When was the last time this woman had seen decent clothing? The woman's apparel consisted of the simplest materials – did the worker liked what she noticed in the flowing dress...Danica couldn't fathom poverty but certainly related to those that were forced into servitude. Into a prison. Without a shred of free will. The CEO had spent last twenty seven years in a cage like this, just the bars were made of pure gold. ”Or you could shovel snow on Hoth.” Danica commented. That was rather pointless, for ever grain this girl swept away, another two hundred appeared.

”You can do whatever you want.” The dark haired human added dryly. ”Who told you to do it?” Danica asked. Certainly there were plenty of cruel enough Sith around to put such idiotic task on a helpless woman.

[Nightender]

"I'm sorry, m--" She stopped herself, not wanting to offend Danica. "I have been here for some time. A group of Sith said that I should do my best to make everything perfectly clean in the entrance to the Temple."

It may have been a fleeting idea, but the slave kept to her task. It was one of the few things she was truly capable of, given her lowly station. Having been broken down and proven that she was not a Sith gave her a sense of peace. Jessa's place was to serve, not to stand with pride, or even rule.

"I am pleased to serve, no matter how impossible the task. It is my purpose."

Even as she professed her nature, Jessa still looked at Danica's clothing, admiring the stature the woman stood with.

[Rugs]

"If a group of Sith asked you to jam your arm into a faulty ship engine to lube up its interior, would you do it?" Canus asked. He approached the two women casually, his stride loose and relaxed. For the moment he held the sheathed, slightly-curved sword that usually rested at his waist somewhat like a cane, tip-tapping lightly at the dry stone pathway. "Obedience certainly has its place Miss... hm..." He stopped a few paces away from the duo with the sword standing gently on the ground directly before him. A gloved finger tapped the back of his head thoughtfully.

"Vordrinn, I believe? Or Jessa." Canus shrugged. "Far be it from me to tell you what to call yourself.

"Obedience, as I said, has it's place, but too much well..." he shrugged again, eyes shifting to look at the darker-haired woman. Liviana. "It's hard to break the chains that you allow to bind you. Wouldn't you agree, Miss Liviana?"

Liviana was a fascinating creature. A member of the aristocracy, or someone with ambitions to become just that, at least - that, he supposed, made her his responsibility in some way. Yet she didn't hold the same barely-contained fear of the Sith Order that many aristocrats did; she openly fraternized with one, in Renata, and if word around the Temple was right, she did quite a bit more than that with Aurellius.

Fascinating. And perhaps, in the future, useful. But what was that... thing in her hands?

[Poludnica]

(( I am sorry it's so fricken long D: ))


It was outstanding how someone could push away own identity like this, unless part of the woman's personality was an undying love to pointless tasks. Was this work of the Sith? Brainwashing their servants into mindless automatons...They should use droids instead: less headache when it came to feeding and clothing. This whole ordeal didn't sit well with Danica – she didn't want to see a fellow human woman humiliated this way. ”I am ordering you to stop and take a break.” She offered. ”If they will give you troubles over it, send them to me.” The dark haired human added, knowing that it were probably frustrated Initiates trying to feel better over own abuse. Seeing how Nieraan treated most of them, Danica even understood why but refused to agree on such behavior toward this girl. There were Twi'lek serfs around too...

”Some hobby to have.” Danica commented without a smile. She wasn't very good in showing care even if felt empathy toward the servants plight. It angered her though: annoyance that covered true sadness and fear that they could ever trade places. Something though stirred behind this indifferent mask the fair haired girl presented. An interest? Maybe admiration, colored with envy...Sometimes Danica wished to master the Force and simply know. ”Do you like my dress?” The Coruscanti woman asked, pondering if it was clothing, jewelry or something else...Or the overall impression.

"If a group of Sith asked you to jam your arm into a faulty ship engine to lube up its interior, would you do it?"

The words that disturbed their talk were spoken in clear, well accented voice. Elegant lilt, careful and almost intentionally incantatory. To the point of being obnoxious – just like her father's. It betrayed a perfectionist, someone controlled. It didn't help she knew the owner – not too well but enough to feel threatened. Not by his power though but simple rivalry in terms of manners, style and elegance. ”Canus.” She said, draping the name in a disappointed boredom. Because of the Echani position Danica was forced to deal with him. More than wished.

The seemingly innocent comment he made, an afterthought mostly brought sparks of irritation. Which showed in Danica's soft features as she wasn't too good in hiding emotions that ran deep withing her restless soul. Of course Canus knew about Cassius, they all did as she had no intention of hiding own aristocratic name. The Echani certainly knew it was a blow below the belt. For a brief moment forgetting about the human slave, Danica looked at the white haired male with an annoyed challenge. ”A professional, Sith partygoer.” The woman summed the Echani's job description before noticing his appalled gaze when it fell on the ugly cap she had stolen from Nieraan's place.

Of course the woman shared this feeling but would never give the pesky Echani the satisfaction and put the hideous thing on her head in a rather defiant gesture. ”What?” The human asked with a smirk. ” You are really behind newest Core trends.” The hat fit the overall elegant dress like a fist to an eye but the statement behind this paradoxical gesture was far more important than her looks at the moment. Only then did Danica attention went back to the girl, curious how...Jessa would behave. The fact Canus knew the servant's name was strange on its own.