OOM: The End of the Beginning

(OOC: Some lines taken from canon.)

Ibani returns to Dromund Kaas as rested and as prepared as she will ever be to face her Master thanks to Milliways. The high ceilings swallow the sound of her footsteps as she approaches Darth Zash's office. She can feel her Master's energy, her elation through the Force, as she enters the office.

"Fantastic, apprentice," Zash begins, looking up at her with a smile. "You're just in time for my surprise. I've been reading and reading and reading while you've been working for me. So much research, who would have guessed that Skotia was a man with such a curious intellect? It almost makes me regret that we had to kill him." She shakes her head. "But I digress - I trust you were successful in the Dark Temple?"

Ibani nods and offers the holocron. Zash eagerly takes it, nearly caressing the object. "How did you manage to pacify the aparition?" Zash asks, still looking at the holocron.

"There was humility involved," Ibani replies with a bitter smile. It WAS humbling being thrown around the room and then force-choked, so it's not technically a lie. "But it bore fruit."

"Indeed, apprentice," Zash replies. "And wondrous fruit it is. These artifacts will change everything, apprentice -- you, especially," Zash begins, looking directly in Ibani's eyes. "They will make you more powerful than you could imagine. I have foreseen it."

That, that makes no sense at all! No Sith would GIVE power to another, especially not their own apprentice! "Me, Master?" Ibani asks, not having to fake surprise. "Why not take their power for yourself?"

There is a flicker of something Ibani can't quite define in Zash's eyes at the question. Bitterness, perhaps? "Because for all my years of study, all my years of seeking Tulak Hord's power, these hands cannot wield the power the artifacts contain," Zash explains, spreading her gloved hands wide and with a grave expression on her face. "But you, you can, apprentice," Zash adds, pacing with restrained energy. "I made sure of that with your trials, made sure you would be suitable to wield the power of the ritual hidden with the artifacts."

"What ritual?" Ibani asks, still not happy with the explanation she's received so far but not daring to press her Master further.

"A peculiar ritual used by Tulak Hord when he conquered the Dromund system. Until I have all the artifacts I cannot understand the full nature of the ritual, but I have foreseen that you alone will wield the ritual's power."

"Do we know where the other artifacts are?"

"One," Zash replies. "Documents in Skotia's effects point to Balmorra, but I will need to do more research to locate the other three." Then, Zash smiles broadly. "But first - I believe I mentioned a surprise earlier. If you're going to find these artifacts, you'll need a ship and some other equipment, so I have ordered them for you. All you need to do is pick them up at the spaceport."

Ibani nearly swallows her tongue. She'd known that a Darth wielded tremendous power and resources, but to just GIVE her a starship. "Thank you, my Lord," Ibani manages to say at last, swallowing.

Zash's smile is friendly, personable. "Go on, apprentice. Go and claim your ship, ready yourself for a journey to Balmorra. Contact me by holo when you're ready to leave."

Ibani nods in agreement and takes her leave, her mind a whirl. She's sure the gift will have hooks in it, but it is still far more than she ever expected to receive.

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Ibani's first thought, on seeing her ship is that she's beautiful. A Fury class Interceptor, the most versatile ship in the Imperial fleet.

She doesn't remember running across the tarmac to her ship, but she must have, she realizes as she runs her hand along the hull. "Asha," Ibani whispers to the ship. "Your name is Asha." Victory, in the tongue of the Sith. A Victory that will break so many chains for her.

She walks up the gangplank onto the ship to be greeted by an unexpected sight, a droid. "Greetings," the droid says with a male voice. "I am Toovee Arrate, the factotum droid for this vessel. You must be my new master. Gentle, kind new master..." the droid continues, trailing off with a hint of nervousness creeping into its electronic voice.

"A ship and a servant, it seems my Master spared no expense," Ibani replies, eying the droid curiously. "Things are looking up."

"I am relieved - er, pleased - that you find me agreeable. I will never disappoint you, master."

Ibani wonders whether the droid has been abused or if he was programmed with such a nervous and fearful personality.

"I am programmed for a wide array of tasks, including but not limited to meal preparation, ship maintenance, janitorial duty, and etiquette."

"I'm sure you will be very useful, Toovee," Ibani replies, thinking. It's going to be very strange having a servant. Useful, but very strange indeed for a former slave.

The inside of her ship is all sleek lines, no wasted space. Dark metal walls enlivened by only necessary electronics and the occasional crimson Imperial banner. From the gangplank there is a short hallway curving around the back wall of the well-stocked medbay to open upon a central area with seating and the larger holocommunicator console needed for long range communication. Two wings spread off of the common area. The left wing holds a conference area and the crew quarters while the right wing holds the engines and storage. The bridge and the captain's quarters lie instead beyond the central common area, out of the way of most the coming and going on the ship.

Ibani's fingers trail lightly along HER ship's walls as the droid gives her a tour. It is hers, all hers, the first home she's ever owned. She's going to make the most of it.