A Dangerous Bond

Prologue

Please be advised, mature content. It contains many mature topics, read the story description for the warnings.

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Darkness poured from each stone and metal plate. It felt cold. The light was being sucked from every corner. It felt cold in every waking moment. There was no happiness here. Only cold anger, screams of pain, the distant sounds of twisting bones and meat that should not exist. This is where evil seethes, breeds, and horrors are born.

Only the strong will survive while the weak are killed without mercy. Their bodies used as mere objects to test and experiment on. Despair among them is palpable. The lives of these men and women were already shrouded in darkness. Slaves to tend to every whim of the Sith.

The humans were the cruelest to her. Aonani learned quickly to survive. She never questioned an order. Stayed far away from the others as they tried to make an escape. Young foolish slaves, she thought. One does not escape. All that try, they face a red blade that will end their lives. Perhaps that is why they did it.

Her scarred right hand traced over her legs. It would take long to count the number of wounds. They enjoyed cutting and bleeding her. As if they could not live without her blood. Her hand began to tremble again. It has not been healing as it should. Her fear is that it will only get worse. That will only mean she will be useless to them.

The doors swished open, light poured into the dark room. More like a place for cattle and the cattle are they. Twi'lek in all shades, humans, and even the very rare Sith pure blood that seethes in the corner. She looked at her own red skin as it was covered in scars. It felt good to see everything had healed.

In the door stood two figures, darkened by the light that came from behind them. They stared into the room as if to judge them for their plans and schemes. None within the slave pen moved, their heads lowered, not looking at them. A mere look could raise the desire in them to make them hurt and torture you. Aonani felt the room become colder, as if the cold came with the figures.

"They're yours, my Lord," one said. "If there is anything else, do let me know."

"What is their condition? I need them to be healthy," the Lord of the Sith said. His voice seemed raspy and eerily cold. Aonani had never been close to one. Her master was not Sith yet he is a high-ranking Imperial. A Moff, she thinks it is called.

"My Lord, they are slaves... But they have not worked in harsh conditions. I think they should be in relatively good condition," the man said.

"Ship them to my personal workplace on Dromund Kaas. I want no delays, Moff Heln."

"As you command, my Lord. I will oversee it personally."

"See to it," the Lord said, turning on his heels as he marched away.

As if the cold followed him, the temperature rose slightly. Aonani doesn't know what will happen. She may be the rare case of lacking any potential in the Force, but she knew enough about the Lords. And she probably will regret choosing to live.

It was not long after the Lord came that soldiers came. Each holding a blaster at them, ordering to move out of the pens. One place she won't miss much. Yet this place, Ziost, where she has worked most of her life will be left behind. Being forced to go to a place where she felt the darkness most prominent. Perhaps only Korriban, the place of her birth, being more twisted.

The slaves were forced out of their metal pens, seeing the light of day again. A first in two days for Aonani. She looked up to the grey clouds, despite the lack of sun, she thought it was beautiful.

"Red."

A whisper from her left came to get her attention. They were forced to stand close, to take as little space as possible. Somehow the pavement was more important than them. Most didn't care, their eyes are dull as if they just put one step forward after another.