The Order: New Blood

            The New Sith Order, formerly the New Sith Guild, crowded into the Kimorra tavern right before the midnight rush. The place wasn’t empty, but it was quiet still- only a few of the low, round tables were occupied, and the bar was clear. The tavern was a smaller place, with wide blue-glassed picture windows and dimmed violet fluorescent lamps, plus the notes of some good classic soft-shred music wafting through the air like perfume. Ordinarily, the whole Order wouldn’t have fit in one pub, but the senior masters had left behind the apprentices the order had already gained since winning New Republic approval. Their makeshift headquarters, laughably called the New Sith Temple, were situated in Coruscant’s Crimson Corridor neighborhood for budget reasons, and someone had to be left in the building at all times to guard against the ranats and potential squatters. And after all, as Darth Apathian stated, summing up a fundamental truth of the master-learner relationship, “That’s what apprentices are for.”
        Darth Bane, formerly Her Imperial Grace, the Princess Mara-Jade, and before that Mearegeode Tharssen of Tatooine, exhaled in relief as she sat down at the bar. Everyone needed this- after the journey from Tatooine, the struggle to win senatorial approval, and the search for a halfway-suitable base of operations, everyone had been under a lot of stress, and people had practically been whipping out their lightsabers over such differences as who got the last beer. It would’ve only been a matter of time before someone lost an arm, or worse. She was also glad they seemed to like the cantina she had chosen. Most of them would have preferred somewhere larger, more drug-filled, and more expensive, but Bane had exercised her executive power and brought everyone here. She’d seen this place when she was finalizing the real estate deal on the Temple, and even talked with the woman, Niama Viviani, who co-owned and ran it with her husband, Ardan Teta. Niama was a good woman who, as a recovered death stick addict, took pains to run a clean, relatively honest pub. Bane hadn’t met Ardan yet, but aside from a rather shady past, he was a prince, according to Niama. Bane also enjoyed the literary reference of the cantina’s name, which probably escaped most of the clientele, including her Sith.
      Speaking of her Sith, a few were attempting to stare at her surreptitiously, Bane noticed. This would be the first time they had seen her in a dress, she realized- a proper dress, not one of the ankle-length kirbli-weave skirts her mother had sewn her the last time she had visited the Tribe. This dress was bought secondhand, and the style was about twenty years out of date, but it was a real dress- it was red with black trim, sleeveless, with a liberal neckline and a ruffled skirt that did not cover her knees. Most importantly, it fit Bane’s body. That was unusual. Bane was a big woman- ‘fat’ didn’t tell the whole story, because although Bane was no supermodel, she did carry several pounds of muscle where her limbs were concerned, and there was also the fact that she was closer to two meters tall than some of her men, and broad-shouldered besides. Tusken genetics and the eating habits of the New Sith had combined to give her a body that was incredibly difficult to dress. That wasn’t even taking into account her cropped red curls, which clashed with almost all colors besides black.
      She waved at Niama, who sidled over. Niama was a handsome woman, still fairly young, but with a look of weariness about her. “What can I get you, ma’am?”
      “Can you do a White Bantha?” Bane inquired. The drink was a Tatooine favorite, but in the Core, it tended to be harder to find.
      “Sure. Coming right up.” Niama set to work. A cloud of apprehension floated around her like an odor. Bane saw the barista shoot her sidelong glances, looking as though she definitely had something on her mind.
      “There something you want to ask me, Niama?” she said at last.
    Niama set the drink down. Like all good White Banthas, it was served in a pint glass. White Banthas were developed by the Tusken originally, just as it had been the Tusken who were the original distillers of the dry, strong kirbli-seed whiskey that was used to make them. White Banthas were equal parts whiskey and bantha milk or yogurt, mixed with kirbli-flower honey, a few spices, and pieces of dried fruit if you could get them. They were known for being extremely potent, and for allegedly having some actual nutritional content. They had originally been invented, Bane had always heard, as a provision for the warpath, because they could be consumed and carried more easily than solid food. A lot of Tusken cooking utilized alcohol; Bane had heard that once you knew this about the Tusken, they instantly became much more understandable as a culture.
      “Um, yes, actually.” Niama looked at her. “Wait- you know my name.”
      “I was in here before. You probably don’t remember.”
      “I remember your face. Look…are you that woman who runs that offshoot of the Sith Lords?”
      “That’s me. Darth Bane.” Bane shook Niama’s hand, reaching out through the Force. “You…have someone you want me to test for Force-sensitivity?”
      “Did you just read my mind?”
      “Educated guess. Want me to do it now?”
      “Can you?”
      “I’ve taken to carrying one of the pocket kits. You wouldn’t believe how many people want to test their kids, now that the Empire’s not claiming Force-sensitives anymore.” Bane slid off her stool and followed Niama behind the bar, into the back room, and up a flight of stairs. The doorway they passed through opened up to the small but neat main room of an apartment. Most of the space was a sitting room, with a small kitchen and one large table in a corner. Three doors in the wall presumably led to the bedrooms and refresher. At the center of the room, on a clean but sagging couch, a girl of about fifteen sat, partly covered by a blanket, watching some HoloNet program listlessly on a screen with old, fading plasma. By the dim bluish glow, Bane observed her. She was short, solidly built, probably even chunky. She was gifted with a graceful, round face, light blue eyes, and shoulder-length bronze-colored hair that would probably be beautiful if it had been washed recently. At this moment, there was a redness around her eyes, and Bane could see tear streaks drying on her cheeks. She turned to peer at Bane and her mother guardedly. In her face was written the question: What does the universe want with me now?
      “Gaya, this is Darth Bane,” introduced Niama softly. “Darth Bane, this is my daughter, Gaya.”
      “Nice to meet you, Gaya.” Darth Bane smiled as nicely as she could. Adolescence and secondary school were not kind to girls like Gaya; she knew that firsthand.
    “Nice to meet you, too.” Gaya still looked suspicious.
    “Gaya, Darth Bane is going to test your midi-chlorian levels,” Niama explained.
    Gaya frowned. “But…Mom, we just…” She looked confused, then conflicted, and then seemed to come to a decision. “Look, Miss…Darth Bane, I, um, I appreciate you coming up here and doing this, but, look, I just went to the New Jedi Order’s headquarters last week with Mom, and they tested me, and I don’t have them. Midi-chlorians. Not enough, anyway; I’m not sure, that wasn’t clear. But I’m not Force-sensitive. I don’t know why Mom brought you here. I’m sorry.” She did not meet Bane’s eyes.
      Bane turned to Niama. She hadn’t known the woman long, but it still seemed out of character for Niama to be so in denial. “Is that true?”
      Niama shook her head. “I know what you’re thinking. A week ago, I was willing to accept that Gaya wasn’t Force-sensitive. But…things have changed. My husband and I have…evidence that the test must have been wrong.”
      “What kind of evidence?” asked Bane. She felt deeply as though she’d rather be anywhere but here; if Niama was determined that her daughter was Force-sensitive when she wasn’t, an ugly scene was coming.
      “Convincing evidence,” said a soft voice from behind Bane, who turned as a wave rippled through the dark side.


(Note: If there is sufficient interest in this, I may put up more chapters. For now, if you want to read what happens next, you can go to Fanfiction.net and look for my profile there, under the same penname as this site, "Shulamith Bonderovsky." I encourage feedback on all the chapters of this story I've written so far- this is the first- especially from Star Wars fans. However, I do deviate from canon a lot, so please don't tell me all the plot points I got wrong- just feedback on writing, character development, etc. Please enjoy and keep reading!)