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The Sith Lord and His Apprentice

 

“What a bunch of obstinate, hidebound, narcissistic, egotistical...” I bit off the rest of the sentence as I finished climbing the gangway of my ship. To say I was angry was probably a bit of an understatement; though not as much as I'd been a few moments before, when an astromech had happened to be in just the wrong place at the wrong time. Hitting it with enough Force lightning to fry the droid's internal circuitry made me feel a bit better.

Just a tad bit.

As for me, I was known (among other titles) at Darth Nox. I was a member of the Dark Council of the Empire, head of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge. While most meetings among Sith tended to be resolved simply by the highest ranked member giving orders, the Dark Council was one of the very few institutions (and the defacto ruling body) that was truly a meeting of peers.

As the main hatch cycled open to allow me entry, I stepped inside what was my first and most secure of domains. I stepped inside with a swirl of black and gray robes, the omnipresent lightsaber still hanging on my hip. Only a Sith with a death wish went anywhere without being armed, and I was far from having a death wish...though I'd certainly been dead before.

“I wasn't expecting you for at least another hour.” A feminine voice intruded into my consciousness, and I turned to the speaker. Under circumstances such as this, an intrusion of this nature might prove unhealthy for the speaker; but this particular voice belonged to one of the very few beings relatively safe from my anger.

The voice belonged to the former Jedi padawan, the togruta Ashara Zavros. While the connection between us wasn't exactly a Force Bond, it was much more difficult to explain. We shared an intense passion, my Apprentice and myself; and while the togruta wasn't quite a fully trained Sith, she'd certainly learned to enjoy giving into her passions.

What stopped me wasn't her voice, but the nature of her presence instead. She was stretched out in a comfortably seeming manner on one of the starship's couches, with a reader in hand. The fact that she hadn't so much as a stitch of clothing transformed my anger into a much more palpable lust/desire.

I walked over to her, leaning forward so I could take her chin by hand and kiss her rather lustily on the lips. I could sense a lust rising within her that matched my own, and she licked her lips when I finally returned them to her.

“I'd just gotten out of the refresher and settled on the couch when you'd gotten back.” Her voice was deceptively calm as she continued speaking. “I wasn't expecting you for at least another hour.”

Her statement might have been a reflection of the truth, but it was far more likely that she'd been deliberately waiting to ambush me in her current state. Not that I minded, I found her nude body quite a pleasure to gaze upon. And I made it a point from time to time to see that she knew how much I enjoyed her.

I placed one hand on her bare left breast, plucking the reader from her grasp and tossing it over my shoulder. I ignored the soft thud of the reader landing on the floor nearby as I gave her a kiss which told her exactly what I had in mind. I could feel her breast becoming firm beneath my palm, and I teased her bare nipple with my thumb. My own body responded to our shared lust/desire, and a soft moan escaped her lips and I pushed down onto her.

At that moment, all I wanted was to have my now rock hard cock deep into her; and to feel her body quiver in pleasure beneath me. While it may have been that her ambush was turned against her, she didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

It was going to be a rather enjoyable evening.

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Azur Land (Cleveland)

 

Her mood always seemed to improve when we went out to sea. On this particular occasion, she was settled in a folding chair shaded by a canopy; and was just moving fast enough to stir up a mild breeze. She'd dressed in a white bikini, as was often her choice when situation or company permitted.

We'd met when I was in college some twenty years earlier; she seemed unchanged in the years that had passed, though that was true only on the surface. At the time, she'd been often melancholy and quiet; understandable as she'd lost most of her friends during the war. We'd grown close in short order, as if I was the person that she needed to fill the void.

While the war with the Sirens had ended when I was a teenager; it always seemed to loom over the near history, and a concern that maybe the Sirens would come back. The last year of the war had been particularly brutal, as they seemed to throw everything that they had left at us. We'd won, but it had been costly; and only a few came out in relatively good condition.

Of her sisters, Cleveland had been the only one to make it; and she'd been the only ship in the Eagle Union to come out relatively undamaged. So, her mood at the time we'd met was understandable; as was her loneliness. As our friendship grew, she'd reverted much to the personality that she'd had before: boisterous, confident, and friendly.

I'd won the lottery about five years back, and used some of the funds to purchase Cleveland from the Navy. If she'd ever been bothered by being “owned”, she'd never given any sign of it. Perhaps that was because we'd gotten to hang out together much more often now. And unlike many of the other survivors, she somehow avoided being a relic. Maybe that was my fault as well.

Sunglasses covering her red eyes drifted away from where I was also lounging in an identical folding chair as the sound of a fog horn cut through the ocean air. As was often the case when out in the waters of the Caribbean, she'd be met with friendly greetings wherever she went. She gave a wave in response, though privately I doubted that anyone on the other ship would notice.

She fidgeted just slightly as she settled back in her seat, absently adjusting the bottom of her bikini for comfort. She'd a preference for iced fruit drinks, one that I shared; though she preferred cherry while I preferred strawberry. We were both perfectly content to let the hours, and the ocean waves, slip by.

As the sky began to darken, we relocated from her foredeck to the captain's cabin. These cruises of hers often lasted a week or more; and even in those times, it was difficult to remember that she was a ship and not an ordinary girl. Maybe that was because I'd preferred not to think of her that way.

This evening would be like others when it was just the two of us on the open water. A nice dinner, then curling up together in bed. And in those times, we were happy that it was just the two of us.

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