Chapter Text
“Your capacity for rage is impressive, in one raised by the Jedi,” said Scourge.
Khisit stopped, back rod-straight, and stared. “Excuse me?” They felt slightly detached, suddenly; harsh winds rushing through their body instead of blood. They weren’t even sure what to say to that, with several competing objections tripping over each other on their way to their mouth. “Who said anything about me and Jedi?”
The other pureblood sith (the other pureblood sith -) looked unperturbed. “You’re not that opaque,” he said. “And I have ears.”
Khisit’s fingernails bit into their palm.
“Your family name also sounded familiar, and I got… curious. Given everything, it wasn’t a difficult leap from some seditious expatriates neutralized a few decades back, to the Jedi’s interest in assimilating strays.”
Neutralized. What a fucking word. And then the thought twitched into their head of this… Emperor’s Wrath, casually reading up on – more information than they had ever been offered, about two people who’d gone and blown their lives up and dumped Khisit on their own in the serenely meditating wreckage. Reading up on them with whatever all creepy Imperial panopticon records he had the security clearance for. Dates of birth, lists of addresses; favorite holodrama series and what toys they slept with as children; health records and personal credit chit codes and nicknames of younger cousins on their mother’s side of the family.
Their heart knocked heavy against the inside of their rib cage. “Yeah, so? It’s, what, weird that I’d rather keep the peace and light and mental discipline wizards at arm’s length? You sure had enough to say about them after your little trip to Tython – which gained us, what, by the way? Helpful backup that’ll show up any day now, yeah?”
Scourge’s gaze jumped up to the hallway leading to the head warden’s office, where Rivka was still in the process of trying to squeeze a couple drops of compassion out of a senior authority figure. A moment later, his attention returned to Khisit. “There. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Your targets are… childish, but you don’t passively accept what angers you. You and Knight Jaexyth have that in common, and it’s a valuable trait.”
Khisit opened and then closed their mouth, not even sure where to begin with that. With this – transparent, stereotypical, comical delivery of the “Sith Lord trying to tempt a Jedi to the dark side” talking point (was it ironic, even a little bit self-aware, or was he just that oblivious?) – ? They were almost laughing, if they imagined him talking that way to Rivka herself. Or –
“Childish? Wanting to mass-murder political prisoners and, and – treating nonhumans like rabid animals if rabid animals could also carry firearms – is an appropriate topic for children in your book?”
He nearly sighed. “The topic is not childish. Your anger about the topic, for all the potential it suggests, is unfocused and immature –“
They blinked several times, barely sure they could believe what they were hearing; barely sure it wasn’t simultaneously the most propaganda-film-outtake opinion they’d ever heard from a real-life Imperial. They flashed back, briefly, to the way he’d said neutralized a few decades back, and just happened to leave out mentioning who had been responsible for that “neutralizing” (conveniently? coincidentally?). Thought about the way the head warden spoke to Rivka when they first arrived, like it was expected for a Jedi to be right onboard with this miserable. fucking. planet’s. idea of “justice”.
“Angry?” they echoed, finally. “I’m not angry, I just think this hypocritical pile of shit deserves to be torn down by any idiot with half a brain cell, and frankly the rioting prisoners are welcome to rip up all the guards like wet tissue paper if they really want to, because it’s not like they have a whole lot to lose if they do!”
Across the landing pad, a couple of those very guards paused and turned to look at the pair of them. Unwilling shame prickled down the back of Khisit’s neck.
“Whatever,” they finished to Scourge a few moments later, crossing their arms and intently not looking at anyone else who might’ve been in earshot. “I’m gonna go… transmit all the maps I can find of this place to an Imperial relay station or something, so they can have evidence to entertain themselves with whenever someone accuses me of being a foreign spy again. Have fun rehearsing lines to convince ‘Jedi’ you understand them and they should embrace their darker passions or whatever the fuck you thought you were just doing.”
Khisit walked away, trying to breathe in deeply against the tight, shaky feeling in their chest. Always nice to leave a conversation with the sensation of someone wanting to hurt them or otherwise put them in their place, following in the aftermath like the world’s stupidest raincloud.
Time to add another couple marks to the scorecard.