Dark Matter: Episode 3

Even as that orgasm faded, leaving sweet exhaustion in its wake, the sound of her mother's muffled whines filled her. Ecstatic waves passing through her. Filling her. Teasing her. Sheefa groaned when she felt Vulva's hands squeezing at her thighs, knowing that Vulva was not aiding her sister in the pursuit of completion. She was not fingering herself, or doing anything beyond allowing Vaux'avh to violate her, and Vaux'avh was violating her well.

In the moment, caught up in so much physical stimulation, Sheefa found empathy for them. Felt happy for them to have kept each other, and a little jealous of how intimate their relationship was. How little they needed to speak to communicate. How they fulfilled each other in their own, unique way. In the moment, Sheefa stepped away from the larger context and discovered an island of serenity in the middle of a devastating vortex. A place of rest.

Her fingers gripped tightly at the light gray hairs near the scalp, and Vulva moaned. Her feet came apart, toes gripping the very edge of the table. She held her mother fast, hips grinding and rocking. Her mother had not drifted, had not moved from the spot Vaux'avh had put her in. The tongue hardened to a point, wet muscle stiffening, and Sheefa directed it to those places within herself that held such secrets. To the nerve endings brimming with energy. To the places that brought her low and destroyed her one cell at a time.

"Good," Vaux'avh moaned.

Sheefa gasped as she craned her head around to find the Sith sitting, legs splayed, slouched low, in a chair halfway across the room. Immediately, her mind began calculating. Gauging the threat she would face if she stopped against the need of her body to continue and to finish once more. She whined at how easily the latter won out.

"Good!"

"Fuck," Sheefa cried, guiding her mother's tongue to up to her pink bud. Needing it to be over almost as much as she needed it to come and clear her mind. Wipe the slate clean, and relieve her of the anxiety. Just one more. One more orgasm. One more excruciating peak, and she could finally piece herself back together.

The sound of Vaux'avh fingering herself shocked her; even from across the room, it echoed over the sounds happening so close to her. Slk-Slk. Sheefa panted louder, vocal chords tightening with every breath until she drowned her sister out. She felt it coming, and felt tremendous relief in once again finding her release without the older Mirialan's influence.

This was a lie she told herself because the lie kept her mind intact.

And then she smelled her. The unmistakable scent of her older sister. It filled her nostrils, filled her lungs, and dulled her senses. Her world came tumbling down around her ears in a thunderous avalanche. Burying her. Drowning her. Killing her.

"I think we all needed that," Vaux'avh said, as she curled one knee in toward her shoulders and reached the other forward like a long finger. Toes just barely touching the deck. Sheefa crashed back down onto the table, muscles like water, and sighed in exasperation. Vulva continued to lap up every drop, cleaning her daughter's lips, thighs, and cheeks, as well as the table below.

2E whirred into the room, and beeped obliquely at the Sith.

"No no," she said with a deep smirk. "Don't get up. I'll handle this."

Sheefa whimpered wordlessly. She couldn't have moved if she wanted to, and yet the way Vaux'avh's eyes roamed over her, as the older Mirialan stepped out of the room, left an oily stain on her skin.

Vulva finally stood. Her eyes were distant, but her expression was even more flat than usual. She ran her fingertips over her lips, scraping thick cream and depositing it on her tongue. Once she was free to do so, Sheefa brought her legs back together and rolled to her side. Curling in on herself. Vulva immediately came around and worked an arm under her head. Before Sheefa could protest, she found herself upright, on her feet, and moving toward the back of the ship with almost all of her weight being supported by her mother. She only barely made it into the shower before collapsing. Only barely held back the tears until the water was flowing. Only barely held back the sobbing until the door was closed.

Her mother's arms were a buoy as she was swept back into the vortex.

***

Sheefa folded her arms tightly across her chest as she followed her sister and mother out of the turbolift and onto the spacious, unfamiliar bridge deck. Nazaya's flagship, Gravesong, was a vast Imperial cruiser that dwarfed every other ship she'd ever seen. The bridge alone was crewed by nearly a hundred of the Sith Empire's finest cadets, all looking very sharp, efficient, and overwhelmingly human. It was hard to not feel like she didn't belong there, although the truth was that every second they'd been aboard the Gravesong had made her want to scream. It had only been three days since they'd first boarded the Gravesong, but it felt like much, much more.

Nazaya turned toward the column of Mirilan women with a feral kind of grin. A knowing grin. Not for the first time, Sheefa wondered how much the fiery little woman knew of what went on between the three of them. Sometimes it seemed like she knew everything.

Sheefa's expression was pure ice as she came to stand between her mother and her sister. She'd taken to planting herself between them, protectively sheltering her mother, but Vaux'avh had seemed merely amused by the effort. It certainly hadn't slowed the Sith's insatiable appetite, but Sheefa knew she had to do something. She couldn't be passive anymore.

"What is the point," Nazaya said, leaning in close to Vaux'avh but pitching her voice just loud enough to be heard by all, "of having an Apprentice if all she ever does is shadow you?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Vaux'avh said coolly, with just the hint of a smirk.

The diminutive Darth seemed to grow a foot in the span of a second, but her manic grin subsided before the obvious violence that lurked within her spilled over.

"Are you going to be accompanying us again, my Lord?"

"Not this time," Nazaya said. "I'm afraid I'm awaiting a courier, and I need to be present when he arrives."

"Then shouldn't you get on about telling us why we're here?"

Nazaya's smile deepened as she handed over a datapad. Sheefa had to fight the urge to peer over her sister's shoulder, rooted as she was in her plan to avoid eagerness in any endeavor. Even then, it was hard to miss the way her sister's eyebrows rose.

"The IRN Crone. I'd almost forgotten about that."

"Missing for over six years," Nazaya said, gesturing out the front viewport, "and now... here it is." She almost sounded like she was laughing.

Sheefa turned, shifting only her eyes, to look. There was a large cruiser, of a design she was unfamiliar with though it did look at least vaguely Imperial, as well as a smaller freighter in front of it. They might have been moving, but motion was so hard to spot with the naked eye against the blackness surrounding them. Both ships appeared to be in good shape, and their lights were on.

"Why not just send a team? Why send us?"

The flame-haired human walked over the viewport and stared out. "I got word that the Crone had finally been located deep in Hutt territory. That was almost two weeks ago. It was due back in the Dromund system five days ago. Three days ago, we received a standard distress call stating that the Crone was limping along at sublight speeds. And then..."

She turned and nodded at the crewman beside her, and he gave a curt nod in return. After a few seconds, audio began to play throughout the bridge.

"SF-0804, this is the ICN Gravesong. Please respond."

"SF-0804, this is the ICN Gravesong. Please respond."

"That's the other ship out there," Nazaya said, pointing. "The hauler."

"SF-0804, this is the ICN Gravesong. Please Respond."

"Thank the builders!" came the frantic voice at the other end. "Someone got my distress call!"

"SF-0804, please state the nature of your distress."

"It killed everyone else. I think I'm the only one left."

"SF-0804, can you—"

"You gotta start punching holes in that wreck. Do it! Now!"

"SF-0804." This time, it was Nazaya's voice on the recording. "This is Darth Nazaya, commanding officer of the ICN Gravesong. I want to assure you that every precaution is being taken to ensure your safety."

Even then, Nazaya couldn't help but laugh quietly to herself.

"How long ago was that?" Vaux'avh asked.

"Two hours," a female cadet with a crisp, Imperial accent replied. "We've tried hailing them several times since, but gotten no response."

"I've been waiting six years for that ship," Nazaya droned, still staring out the window. "And a lot longer than that for what's on it. There can be no screw ups now. Secure the Crone if you can. Secure the package at all costs."

'It will be done," Vaux'avh said, bowing slightly, "my Lord"

Nazaya continued to stare out into the depths of space as the three of them turned and left.

***

The hollow echoes of the necessary collisions of docking resonated in Sheefa's bones, and were all the more stark against the constant and all-consuming quiet of space travel. Sheefa crossed her arms even tighter. The Conquest was as much smaller than the freighter as the freighter was to the cruiser.

"Let's go," Vaux'avh said, sweeping out of the cabin toward the airlock. Vulva was already rising to her feet, and Sheefa mirrored her. Shadowing. "Do you feel that?"

Even though her sense of direction was only so-so, her understanding of the layout of the Conquest only so-so, and the freighter even less, Sheefa could point directly at the third vessel. The cruiser. Not just the cruiser, but something within it. Every step closer to it twisted her middle just that much more. Still, she refused to give Vaux'avh the satisfaction of an answer and merely followed quietly.

Vaux'avh entered her override code on the airlock and stepped through confidently. Sheefa followed her mother, bringing up the rear, as the three of them moved into the salvage freighter. 2E puttered past her, and she looked back over her shoulder just in time to see N1 locking the door behind them.

It didn't take them long to find the first body.

"Can-can you hear me?" The same voice from before came hesitantly over the ship's PA system. "Are y-y-you on the Brutus yet?"

"Still alive, are we?" Vaux'avh said, as she knelt next to the twisted remains. "This is Lord Vaux'avh, Apprentice to Darth Nazaya. How many crew did you start with?"

"You've gotta come and get me! I'm up on the bridge!" The man's whispered pleading was frantic. Panicked.

"In due time." She took hold of a wrist and lifted, and frowned at all the different places the arm bent. "How many?" Places it wasn't supposed to bend.

"T-t-ten I found two of them down in the galley, Jesha and Irom. Ripped to pieces. When I saw that it'd destroyed our hyperdrive motivator, I... I ran up here. That was four days ago. No one... no one came knocking."

"Except us."

"Yeah."

Vaux'avh's expression twisted as she crept around the body. Horror frozen on its face. "Tell me about the recovery."

The voice laughed morbidly. "We found that hulk near a month ago in Hutt space. Tandin, our Captain, thought it was one of yours. Imperial. Thought we'd get more for the salvage by bringing it back to you. Took a while to get it ready for transport."

"What went wrong?"

"After we were under way, the engineer started getting antsy. Said no one would miss a few parts here or there, parts we could sell back to the Empire. Said no one would miss them, a-a-and no one would get hurt! He dragged his buddy into it, and they went over to that thing. Never came back. Eighteen hours later, we locked it back up."

Vaux'avh stood up and looked around. She said nothing before she started moving, much to Sheefa's frustration. Vulva followed the older sister without question, also to Sheefa's frustration. Another body lay further down the hall. "So how did it get over here?"

He sounded close to tears. "It was already on our ship, I think. The docking portal was still locked when I checked on it, but several posts had already stopped checking in."

The Sith straightened, head swiveling, and set off at a blistering pace. Toward the stern of the empty freighter, and then down three decks, until she came to a stop with a gasp. The airlock had been ripped open, the metal sheared through with brute strength rather than being cut or blasted. Vaux'avh unclipped her lightsaber, though she kept the blade off. Even Sheefa could tell that the direction of the damage suggested that the perpetrator had started off where they were and headed over into the cruiser.

"The airlock is open," Vaux'avh said aloud, "and there's no shutting it now. Whatever did this has some teeth, metaphorically speaking."

"Just g-get the engines online," he whined. "We've just been drifting for days. If you can get the hyperdrive going, we can get to a military installation and let them handle this."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Where's the... Where's the fun?!"

Vaux'avh laughed as she stepped through onto the second ship, while the PA continued to frantically plead for help. Sheefa felt like she was abandoning him, a little more so with every step, and while that tore at the part of her that still considered herself a Jedi she refused to leave her mother's side. It was a sobering reminder of her priorities that filled her with shame. He continued to beg them to save him, but his voice faded to little more than an echo after traveling a few dozen meters into the other side.

The cruiser was different. She could tell instantly. Sharp, well-lighted, and clean excepting for what she could only guess was combat damage. Not at all like the dingy freighter.

"What are we doing here?" she asked. The echoes still lingered.

"Investigating," Vaux'avh said, fingering some blaster fire damage on the wall. "I thought that was obvious."

"Why was she keeping tabs on it?"

The older Mirialan moved slowly through the ship, looking back and forth warily. "A lost Imperial cruiser in Hutt space suggests a lot of things; intelligence, counter-intelligence, research and development. If Nazaya was interested in it, though, that likely means that they were involved in retrieving something. She's remarkably single-minded in that respect."

Sheefa whirled, looking behind them. She couldn't say what had alerted her. 2E roamed ahead of the group and attached itself to a terminal.

Vaux'avh asked, "What did they find?"

2E beeped rapidly, and Vaux'avh shook her head.

"That's what I thought."

Sheefa whirled again, this time sure she'd heard something heavy above them. At least one deck up, if not more. She unclipped her lightsaber and closed her eyes, letting her senses expand, and gasped. Ever since they'd dropped out of hyperspace, Sheefa had felt something disturbing coming from the cruiser. Something gnawing. Now that she was closer... It was below them, not above, and she felt the... thing... more clearly.

Vaux'avh laughed as she stepped up next to 2E and tapped away at the interface. "Well, the good news is that it's probably not a ghost."

"How do you know?"

"Different kinds of blaster fire out there in the hall. That could just be different crew being armed differently, but force ghosts aren't really their style."

"Whose style?"

Vaux'avh merely sneered back over her shoulder, and Sheefa grew impatient.

"Who is they?"

"You'll see," she said, and Sheefa fumed.

Vulva gently laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling softly, though it did little to soothe her ruffled feathers. 2E beeped again and toddled off down the hall.

"I guess that's our cue," Vaux'avh laughed, though she still held her lightsaber tightly in her right hand. For all her casual appearance, she hovered on the edge of violence. The four of them moved down a hallway, took a few turns, and then boarded an elevator heading down.

The door opened into a vast hold. Storage of some kind. Sheefa noted a significant amount of portable and modular equipment set and arranged toward the far end of the room. Lights and a few shield batteries. Two small generators. A dozen computer terminals hooked up to an array of sensors and monitoring equipment. Nearly all of it, except for the lights, was off or destroyed. All of it stationed around an unassuming reddish-brown device. There was something indescribably alien about it. It was like a black hole that warped her vision if she looked at it too long.

2E immediately hooked up one of the terminals while Vulva found an out-of-the-way spot next to a crate and knelt down. Sheefa paced back and forth in front of her, telling herself that she was protecting her mother, though she also knew she could be of little actual help.

Vaux'avh wound her way through the maze of equipment and settled in front of a terminal near the front. For minutes on end she worked quietly. Sheefa could feel the unspoken request to stand next to her sister and learn, but was in no mood to play along. Add in the fact that she continued to hear and feel something else out there in the cruiser, and she felt like she was in the right place right where she was.

"2E," Vaux'avh croaked. "Come here."

Sheefa stopped and stared, with her head tilted just slightly. The tone of her voice was... different. Strained. 2E said nothing as it weaved back and forth and joined the older Mirialan.

"Check that."

After a few seconds, 2E beeped twice.

"Triple check it."

2E beeped twice.

"We found it?"

2E beeped twice.

Vaux'avh turned slowly, her face haggard and stunned, and looked back. Her voice was low and thin. "We found it."

Sheefa gasped when her mother spoke without looking up. "There is much yet to do."

The older Mirialan swallowed and nodded, and went back to work.

"Found what?" Sheefa asked. When no one answered her, she turned back toward her mother and repeated herself. "Found what?!"

"2E," Vaux'avh said, "you know what to do."

"What is going—"

"Sheefa," Vaux'avh croaked.

"No, I am done being ordered around!"

Her older sister turned back toward her. "Please." No more. No less.

That stopped Sheefa cold. She blinked and shook her head vigorously, trusting neither her eyes nor her ears. Vaux'avh never said please.

"You can trust her," Vulva whispered a few moments later, her expression as blank as ever. Sheefa closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath.

"Please."

"Fine!" Sheefa grunted, her head hung down. "What."

Vaux'avh motioned her over. "This device is Rakatan. It's a machine fueled by the dark side. This is what you've been sensing."

Sheefa nodded.

"Part of the machine is missing. I suspect there was some sort of... guardian," she said, pointing to an empty platform on the left side of the device. "Some sort of defense mechanism."

"And that's what killed the crew? Here and on the freighter?"

Vaux'avh nodded. She suddenly looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.

"And you need me to go handle it while you do... whatever it is you're doing here."

Vaux'avh nodded. She looked ten years older.

"Fine," Sheefa snarled. She closed her eyes and expanded her senses as far as she could. The device behind her was like a yawning pit of despair, and it was difficult to sense anything while still so close to it. She grunted in frustration, feeling nothing, and stormed off to the elevator thinking to start where she thought she'd sensed it before.