#khip

“Grandma?“

I turn around and look at my granddaughter whose usually cute face probably resembles my own at the moment a bit too much with spotting all those frowning wrinkles on her forehead.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Are you sad granny?”

Now I’m the one frowning, not quite understanding what she means.

“What makes you think that?” I ask, pulling her onto my lap and hugging her.

“Mama said you are always sad when you go to this room.”

Again I frown at her, but I slowly start to understand what she means.

“No, love, this room is just filled with so many little things that I collected over the years, it just makes me remember things.” I tell her, and stroke over her fuzzy red hair, which I know she already hates as much as I and my daughter have.

She pulls my hand away and looks up at me, biting her bottom lip.

“Will… will you tell me about the Sith prince?”

I have to chuckle because her voice has gotten so low that I barely understood her question. Bless her for being so curious.

“Sith prince?” I ask raising an eyebrow, just to tease her and see if she has the same courage that seems to have been bred into all of us Starfyre’s.

“I should not ask you, Mama said it’s forbidden.”

I try very hard to keep a straight face and not burst out in laughter. Yes, no one dares to mention “him” when I’m around. I don’t know maybe they all think I will burst into tears or something, it’s really ridiculous.

“So she has,” I say.  “And she’s not all that wrong. But the Sith was never a prince, not even close to it. In fact some would call him a monster.”

My granddaughter’s hands suddenly clench into my robes and she holds on to me. I hug her tightly and kiss her forehead.

“Don’t worry he would never harm you, I wouldn’t let him touch you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, he has never single handedly defeated me.” Which is true, but then again, I never forced a real “to the death” confrontation with him. But my little mousey doesn’t have to know this.

“So is he more powerful than uncle Zhy?”

I have to laugh at that. “Darling, don’t worry sweetie, uncle Zhy could always handle himself against the Sith prince.”

She nods at that. “Good! When I’m a grown-up I will defeat even uncle Zhy.”

“I’m sure you will, sweetie.”

I can’t take away her illusion on how hard it would be for a non-force user to beat a Sith. But who knows she might be force sensitive after all.

“Gran, why did you fight with the Sith prince? Mama always tells me not to fight and to be a good girl.”

I really wish I could give her an easy answer to that. But how to explain so many things she doesn’t understand at her age?

“I didn’t really fight with him there was no time to fight. I was just so angry with him for such a long time that he threw his life away because his pride mattered more than, family and loved ones. But that’s just a part of what the Sith are.”

She frowns at me but then nods. “I think I understand, Gran.”

“You’re a smart girl Khyrella.” I smile at her and kiss her before she hops off my knees and runs out of the room.

The moment she leaves I can feel him behind me. I slowly close my eyes and lean back as strong arms encircle me from behind.

“I still regret that decision. Maybe…” I turn around and place a finger to his ghostly lips.

“Don’t, you did what you thought was the right choice.” I smile at him. “Although it was a surprise to see you lose your temper like that.”

He nods at me, and I wished I was stronger in the force, I can’t touch him the way he can touch me. His fingers brush under my chin softly and I look up, he bends and just before our lips meet he whispers.

Throwing open one of the flaps to the command tent, Khirelle advanced toward the Darth who was in command.

Coming to a halt just a few feet away she stopped, bending down in a low bow.

"You called, my lord," she said, sarcasm dripping off her every tone.

"Cipher..."

She grit her teeth, breathing deeply and trying to keep calm. "That's not my name," she interrupted, rising without a word of approval. "Anymore."

"A little more respect would be very appreciated," Darth Marr said in his low hoarse voice before turning around and taking a step toward her.

"Respect?" She couldn't believe what he just said. "You are lecturing me on the very thing you did not heed earlier today?"

She had given him everything, always done what he wanted but apparently it hadn’t been enough. He still treated her like she was just one of his lowly servants. So he too had used her, to usurp more power for himself, to make his legacy brighter never caring for her, no matter what he had said.

A part of her mind screamed, that this couldn’t be true. But another part told her that no matter what she did she would never live up to his expectations. That he was no better than Darth Jadus.

“No, no,” Khirelle whimpered holding her head. She tried desperately to hold onto the thin straw that was left of her self-control. Burying her fingers deeper into her hair and clawing at her scalp she tried to push down the rising tide.

Yet red hot pain flashed through her and no matter how hard she tried to keep herself in check, the pain was just too much and she could feel herself let go. 

The tide inside her finally breaking and washing over her in sweet relief like waves of warm water cascading down her skin.

Khirelle shuddered, the tearing of invisible shakles was overwhelming her senses. Free from all the bonds, from all the pain and those endless burdens which bound her to this existence.

Slowly she stroked her left hand over her thigh, the movement looking like a caress, which in a way it was, but only for the hidden knife concealed under her clothes.

"You are not my master."

It didn't matter who he was, or that he might have the Dark council at his beck and call, no one, not even him, would belittle her anymore.

She would be free from all those chains that bound her by her word, free from all things she was supposed to pay back. Nothing mattered anymore because she knew that she would be the victor of this.

"Don't...," It was the only thing she heard before Darth Marr leaped towards her and she found herself pinned against the wall, feeling every inch of his body pressed up against hers.

No matter how much she struggled against him she couldn’t break free. Long fingers clamped around her wrists shackling her. Khirelle kept on fighting against the bonds of his hands, because no one, not even him would subdue her now.

"Don't what, Darth Marr?" she spat, her words beyond clear thinking, encased only in the red white fury that had become her mind.

A whisp of movement and some chilly air fanned her face, Khirelle knew what it meant, he had removed his mask.

"Stop," his breath suddenly brushing against her ear in a soft whisper. "This is not what you want." Soft lips caressing her neck, his cheek rubbing against her.

"You are mine as I'm yours," His lips brushing over her sensitive skin. "My fault for taking this too lightly, but you are stronger than this."

Khirelle froze, it was now or never. She could not give into the temptation, it did not matter that his hands and lips were upon her skin, her only thought was still to make it or break.

She wanted to scream, frustration and desperation fighting within her, again she was torn between fight or flight, yet no words passed her lips.

And then she heard it, that low chuckle of him. He thought he would be victorious once again. "I want those treacherous things off your mind." Darth Marr said his voice still nothing more than a whisper.

Later on she would never be able to tell what gave her the strength to do what she did, the final courage a mystery upon itself.

With a flick of her wrist the beautiful dagger, bestowed upon her by Darth Vowrawn, sliced through the air, rendering durasteel plate and flexoid tubes to nothing. Leaving her in the end with a Darth on his knees before her, his left hand cradling his throat.

"Maybe it's time, for even you, to realize what you took from me," Khirelle said, her knife dripping the lifeblood she had just shed.

"I do not need to hide my face or my body, those implants and everything else you forced upon me would make sure that I would never age on the outside."

She straightened herself, "I never asked for this, it was you and your cravings that made me what I am."