[Encrypted file, please enter password to continue]
In case anyone hasn’t figured it out yet, I have two grown children. With my Force-blind husband. Such heresy! Such weakness! Woe and Lamentations and the gnashing of teeth and so on and so forth. Neither of them got into the uh, family business. Which is perfectly okay with me; I’d rather not run interference against two-bit Darths who are out for a quick kill-you-because-it-makes-me-look-good kind of scenario. It’s much better that they’re not whipping out lightsabers and/or flinging lightning.
One of them came close, though. Disappeared for the better part of a year, and then I get this horrified-sounding message like she thought I was going to kill her. I was, but that was only because she didn’t call. Couldn’t blame her, though. Her name and face were on file as a deserter. She was close to death.
Last month, though, suddenly she wasn’t. I’m still trying to figure out who cracked the database and how — and moreover, why. Whoever did it, I’m grateful to them. It’s nice that she can come home without having to sneak past customs. Some might ask why I didn’t kill her for her failure.
Simple, really: she is not like me; I will not have her be enslaved to powers beyond her control. She doesn’t have to be Sith if it isn’t what she wants. And the Empire, if they are so concerned, can take it up with me. So far they haven’t. Someone out there is deserving of my gratitude. Also, she’s my kid and Sith or no Sith I love her and wouldn’t harm her for anything.
So this is my life now. Watching my kids become professionals in their own right.
The best part about being a parent is making your kids uncomfortable, as far as I’m concerned. So far, in giving my daughter a place to pursue her uh, romance with this pureblood guy who is the approximate size of a dreadnought, I have filled my apartment with ball pit balls, left trays of cookies, and come home hours early just to watch them squirm.
The next step is seeing if she’ll bring him home for dinner. He seems like a decent enough man, even though he’s ginormous and more than a little intimidating. Perfect match for my little girl who isn’t little at all.
[male voice in background: I don’t remember telling Han that she could date!]
As if either of us had a say!
Nothing strange to report with the other one; apparently he’s top in his training class and we’re not going to see him at all for another three months. He’s the quiet kid who just does what he does without dramatics. Last time he sent a message he looked very serious and skinnier than normal. I wonder if II will let me send him cupcakes?
I should probably send both of them cupcakes. And knit a few sweaters. You know, for the holidays.
Parenting is wonderful.
[Encrypted file, please enter password to continue]
So Latula, my cousin (you know, the one I found out I had a few weeks ago), is getting harassed by her charmer of an uncle, and she thought it necessary to hire some protection. Gets some agent named C. I’m terrible with names. C is Chiss and sticks to Latula like glue. Shouldn’t be a problem, right?
C then suspects a security breach. Turns out Latula’s uncle gifted her a slave which she felt she couldn’t refuse and it’s possible this slave man might be reporting back to the family. C’s oh-so-eloquent response is apparently to come on the public comm channel and speak freely about the situation. When confronted, Latula comes to C’s defense using that wonderful Sith standby:
“I’m Sith, I do what I want.” She also tells me that she appreciates C’s efforts and loyalty.
Needless to say I didn’t let this stand; I summoned both of them to a quiet spot in Nar Shaddaa and gave C what-for for being ridiculously incompetent. She plays the deferential aspect of an Agent very well, all bows and nods and “yes my lord”s, but everyone knows I don’t give a womp rat’s ass about that sort of stuff. I told C to stop feeling sorry for herself and get it together or else she’ll be replaced without even knowing it.
I could probably call in a favour from Tiona, or hell, even Sha’nori would like a low-key surveillance assignment. Point being: C either gets it together or she’s gone; I’ll not have some lackadaisical Agent without a brain-mouth filter throwing what little family I have under the bus.
Then I had to have a discussion with Latula as to the depth and breadth of being Sith. I was flabbergasted. Latula can defend her incompetent agent by using her title but she cannot refuse a slave sent from someone who wants to undermine her? If you’re going to throw around the “I’m Sith, I do what I want” universal excuse around (and frankly, I think that half of the Sith out there should not, but that’s just an opinion), why not use it to get the relatives you want nothing to do with off your back?
She’s afraid. I get it. But if she was a Sith worth a damn, she’d use that fear and she’d just eliminate the damn man already.
I said all of this, and then C noticed that we had someone listening in on our conversation. She asked me if I wanted her to deal with it (no, I did not), and I walked up to this mysterious third party and the following ensued:
And that is just one of the many ways that we Sith can operate, but for Force’s sake, if you’re ever going to pull out that do-what-I-want defense, use it for things that, you know, matter? (Though, I suppose I’m Sith and I can do what I want and if it comes to it, I’ll rectify this protection issue for Latula quickly and wholly. I do technically outrank her after all. But that’s just posturing for the sake of posturing and I don’t have time for that. Better to cultivate willing allies, far as I’m concerned.)
For the record, the guy was a real sport; he grinned at me, ate his peanut, and I’m reasonably confident he won’t go blabbing.
So I left, and I came home to a hot bath and some candles waiting for me. Andi was sitting in the living room watching some gory slasher holovid and trying to look like he hadn’t set it up.
[a gruff voice from a distance: Are you talking to yourself again?]
I’m making a note of my meeting, genius! Men. They’re lovely.
I guess there’s nothing much to do regarding this situation except to wait.
[Text File: allegiance.dtf]
I find myself at a crossroads now. Strange the things that can happen in one evening.
The first thing concerns personal allegiances. The politics and intrigue of Dromund Kaas are supposed to be a Sith’s playground; I feel like the child who nominally sits in the grass to the side, saying hello to all and sundry who walks by as she happily plays with her own toys. Now I’m the one who’s just got invited to go down the slide at the behest of the playground bully, and he’s eyeing my toys with a certain amount of envy.
I am being deliberately vague here, but I am at a juncture of sorts. I have my own reasons for striking acquaintanceships and professional relationships amongst those who serve the Empire; my viewpoint has always been that it is often better to have potential allies who want to be your allies than to browbeat people into doing what you want. Fear breeds resentment and resentment breeds defectors and traitors. I aim to be a threat to nobody, for now, because it serves absolutely no point to go about shocking passersby on the street. That’s not power; it’s cowardice. After all I’ve seen, I know the difference.
The choice is this: do I gain one appreciative and powerful ally whilst making a small army of enemies, or do I make one vindictive and powerful enemy whilst obtaining the appreciation and resources of a small army of appreciative acquaintances? Each has its pros and its cons.
This seems like an unrelated matter, though it isn’t really: I never thought that I’d be left wondering at my own personal relationship. I am hesitant to call it what it actually is, even though this whole journaling system is encrypted rather tightly (an advantage of being pretty good with slicing procedures). I’m in a position where I can keep him relatively safe, and Force knows he can hold his own, but I fail to see how there is anything inherently wrong with the fact that I’ve shared my life (and bed) with someone who cannot use the Force. This viewpoint was shared with me last night, and I pride myself on the restraint I had shown.
There’s nothing wrong with such a thing. There’s nothing wrong with love. We feed on our passions, and my passion for him has sustained me through everything and has proven to be a more potent weapon that any rage or meaningless posturing. It’s a choice I’ve made, and I will defend it with my life, and part of me wishes to defend the rights of others to wield such powerful things. We all deserve what we can earn.
Should we err on the side of discretion? Of course. But discretion does not mean avoidance.
I suppose I don’t really know what I’m doing after all.
I keep forgetting that I have this recording suite on this datapad so that I can talk about Important Things.
I don’t really do Important Things that warrant talking into a datapad about, so instead I’ll record this:
[a deep breath is heard; the remainder of the recording is made as though she doesn’t stop to breathe all that often]
So tonight I met up with Obisen and Ixor and it was pretty damn cool, apart from the weirdo bounty hunter who apparently doesn’t know how to scan her datapad for hacks (seriously, it was right there and it was obvious and you don’t even need to be a total slicer-head like me to notice; all it really needed was a firmware rollback but I figured I’d be nice and take it out manually so that she wouldn’t lose all of her bounties or contacts or solitaire games or whatever — stars, how can someone be so stupid?!).
We got onto the topic of the theatre; now I’m not the sort of person who’s ever done things like being cultured; I stuff my face with candied warra nuts almost constantly and I’m married to a pirate, I am the exact inverse of cultured but this theatre thing sounds utterly fascinating. Besides, I’m a Darth now, if I want to head over to the playhouse and watch a show I can damn well do it and there’s nothing anyone can say anymore, right?
[the voice grows quiet]
But then there’s the issue of what to wear. I know that I can’t just show up in my usual death-dealing half-armoured Skirt of Fear, so I went around shopping and everything looks like a wampa vomited on me.
And I mean everything.
What am I going to do?
I’ll figure it out. End recording.
The second most important being in my life, right here.
If the Jedi at Nar Shaddaa are to be believed, the above is undisputable fact.
APPARENTLY A WOMAN CAN’T JUST SIT AROUND AND DRINK A BEER AND EAT SOME NUTS. Nope, she’s got to be moustache-twirlingly evil.
I can’t even grow a mustache.
Ever have one of those nights where you go “well, I’m not sure what happened there”?
First there was this:
This is why we Sith can’t get anything done.
I’m not even sure why I bought this outfit. It’s horrid.
HAKUNA RAKATA WHAT A WONDERFUL PHRASEI really hate doing work. Fortunately I just ply my feminine charms on my colleagues to get the rest of the resources that I need** and then I might actually have some decent gear to go Galactic Scavenger Hunting with.
** by “feminine charms” I mean “threaten to blackmail Jorath with those holos Tiona gave me”
I just really like blowing stuff up. @_@ ‘Rasing is good at that! And I know what you mean about ‘Companions After Corso’. I used to get really worried if their health started to drop, even if only a little. Not any…
You feel sorry for them?
I just laugh. No matter who it is.
Well this is a wonderful time-waster.Also a very good reason as to why we shouldn’t let me on the holonet.
WE FORMER SLAVES JUST DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH TECHNOLOGY
Technically I’m to keep records of all of those artifacts I chased after but… eh. I have friends who’ll do that for me a hell of a lot quicker than I can.