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Cody stares up at the towering ruins silhouetted against the dark sky.
"Commander?" Wooley asks, quiet.
Cody slants him a glance.
"Place is giving me the willies, Sir."
Several of the men snort, breaking the building tension. That had probably been Wooley's plan.
Cody knows there's not a drop of force sensitivity among the lot of them, but even he can't deny the way the crumbling stonework seems to be radiating pure evil.
"Miasma." Waxer says thoughtfully. "This place definitely oozes a dark and evil miasma."
"Sir," Crys says, dry, "I think you should check Waxer's bunk for illicit romance novels again."
"Snitch." Waxer grumbles. "Besides," he adds haughtily, "they're gothic horrors."
No one else speaks, and the silence creeps heavily between them, everyone staring up at the ominous shapes looming into the darkness above them. Kriff, Cody should probably stop reading the books he confiscates. He seriously didn't just think 'silence creeping heavily'. Eugh.
"Well!" Boil says cheerfully, "Guess this is what we're for!"
There's scattered laughter, and a cheerful round of "Oya!" Relief and confidence flowing back through his men. Because, yes. This is exactly what they were all made for.
"It's either facing that or Cody." Waxer points out, all mischief.
Cody snorts.
"You think that's more evil than I am?" It's a rhetorical question. He steps forwards, his men at his back. Still snickering to themselves.
The kriffers.
"Sir?"
Crys has stopped. Everyone else stops with him.
"Looks like a door chime, sir."
Cody steps forwards to take a look. On the edge of the ancient Sith ruins, there is, in fact, something that looks very much like a modern door chime.
He considers.
It's evidence of more recent habitation than the intel they'd been given had led them to believe. By several thousand years. He's more resigned than surprised at this point. Can't say he's not used to working with intel that's out of date. Though he's not sure it's been this far out before.
"Well." He says. "It would be rude not to."
"Sir?" Wooley asks, hesitant.
Cody turns to look at the troopers behind him, disappointed Commander glare in full effect. They should know this.
"Regulation 3721 Subsection Y, Paragraph 4." Boil rattles off after a minute. Cody nods and moves his gaze onto Waxer.
"Err... Something about respecting boundary lines where appropriate and ...not trespassing."
Close enough.
Cody reaches out and presses the chime.
A flock of something that look a bit like loth-bats but bigger, much bigger, spooked by the noise, swoop out of the darkness and dart across the sky.
"Sir?" Wooley asks again. "...did we just ring a Sith's doorbell?"
"Would you rather meet a Sith out here, or in there?" Cody asks.
Wooley tilts slightly to peer round Cody into the gloom. Then nods.
"Understood, Sir."
Sith were very good at jumping out at people from dark corners in Cody's experience, and the ruins seem to have been made by piling dark corners together then using Sith magic to hold them up. Besides, they're wearing white armour. Non-optimal sneaking apparel.
A figure in black robes falls from the sky, cloak billowing behind him, golden eyes luminous in the darkness.
He lands lightly, and pushes back his hood, studying the troopers in front of him with an intrigued tilt to his head. Cody takes the opportunity to study him in return. Human, with a neat little ginger beard and copper hair. Extremely pretty. And there's something in the quirk of his lips that radiates polite mischief.
"Hello there." The Sith says with a smile.
Cody's orders are kill on sight for Sith. And this man is definitely a Sith. But he's not a fan of killing people who aren't trying to kill him first. The gold eyes instead of yellow will be enough to give him plausible deniability if he gets called on it. And they can always kill the Sith later if that turns out to be the wrong decision.
"Good evening, Sir."
The Sith smiles at him and folds his hands into the sleeves of his robes like the Generals do.
"How can I help you gentlebeings? You seem to be a little far from civilization."
"We have a mission to learn as much as possible about these ruins, Sir."
The Sith's face lights up in delight.
"Oh, come on in!" He says, turning, giving them his back, and leading them inside, waving a hand for them to follow. "I'll tell you what I know. I've just had a particularly exciting breakthrough translating one of the more troublesome -"
Cody can feel his men exchanging glances behind him.
He's cautiously optimistic and a little suspicious of his luck. Instead of battling their way through Sith traps, or fighting an actual Sith, they'd found a pretty, nerdy, Sith who was just going to happily tell them more than they'd ever be able to get for themselves?
Suspiciously convenient.
The Sith leads them through the ruins to a room which evidently used to be a kitchen.
"Here," he says, "take a seat, ah, not that one my dear, that one's cursed,-"
Longshot immediately changes trajectory to the next seat along. Cody takes off his bucket and sets it down next to him. Politeness seems to be having optimal results so far.
The Sith opens a large packing crate in the corner of the room, and starts pulling out mugs.
"Is that... completely full of mugs, Sir?" Waxer asks, confused. It does seem to be the only thing in the room, other than a water heater balanced on top of another packing crate pushed up against the wall.
"Ah." The Sith says, not turning around and continuing to pull out mugs. The line of his shoulders is tense in what Cody's reading as embarrassment. "Yes." He admits. "There's a... well. There's a small problem, as it were. In that I seem to get through mugs really quite quickly. It seemed much easier just to order a whole crate of the things."
There's a slightly confused silence.
"That does seem a sensible solution, Sir." Cody says to break it.
"I'm glad you think so." The Sith says, and Cody bites back a grin at the slightly snipy tone.
"It's a mixture of things, really." The Sith confesses as he watches the water heater warm up. "I have an awful habit of making a cup of tea and putting it down somewhere then getting distracted. Sometimes I wander off and forget where I've put it, sometimes the ruins move and it's just not there any more, sometimes something eats it, and sometimes it falls foul of the traps. I have one somewhere..." He absently holds out a hand, and something flies into it, which he then tosses at Cody.
Cody catches it.
It is, as expected, a mug. He counts fifteen arrows shot through it from every direction. Including underneath. The shafts embedded in the plastoid.
Cody is suddenly very glad they had a Sith willing to tell them about the ruins, so they didn't have to venture in for themselves. They have a war to win, they don't have time to get distracted by incredibly fun sounding ominous obstacle courses.
"Commander," Wooley pleads, best tooka eyes on full display.
"Please, Commander!" Waxer begs.
"Arrow traps." Longshot whispers reverently.
"After the war." Cody tells his troops. "If the nice Sith says you can."
The tooka eyes are turned on the Sith.
"You... want to go into an evil semi-sentient moving maze full of traps that could kill you at any time?" The Sith asks. The rest of the men perk up at the words 'semi-sentient'.
"It looks like so much fun!" Wooley is practically bouncing in his seat, the rest of them nodding behind him.
Trapper is turning the mug around in his hands, head tilted.
"It looks like it was shot almost simultaneously from two opposite sides," he says, using his hands to demonstrate. "The arrows from this side hit it a fraction earlier, I suspect it was closer to them, and the slight difference in the timing caused the mug to spin like this," he twists it in his hands, "the tea would have spilled everywhere, changing the trajectory, and causing the rest of the arrows to hit it like so."
The Sith is watching him with a slightly bewildered expression.
"So the arrows only came from two opposite directions, in a single plane?" Longshot asks.
"Enough." Cody commands. They'll be here all day otherwise. "You can discuss the best ways to avoid arrow traps in your next training exercise."
Longshot grins at him.
"I wanna know more about the creepy murder ruins!" Wooley pipes up.
The water heater whistles, and the Sith turns away and opens up the second packing crate which seems to be half filled with various types of tea.
"You don't live here, Sir?" Wooley asks.
The Sith turns, looking confused by the question.
"Ah, as a matter of fact I do. Why do you ask?"
"You don't have any food, Sir?" Wooley asks, filling his tone with worry.
"Ah." And that is the sound of someone who's been caught. "Well, I'm afraid I've rather taken to sustaining myself from the force. It took a bit of practice to begin with, but it's infinitely more convenient than having to remember to eat."
Cody watches the mother nexu instincts kick in, even as he feels his own rise. He has no idea why the Kamonians added them, they clearly didn't come from Prime.
Waxer subtly slides a ration bar out of his belt and passes it to Boil beneath the table. Peeler, on the end of the row, is deftly underarming them as they're passed to him, one at a time, out of the Sith's line of sight, into the crate of tea.
Mugs of tea float over to them. Cody catches his and studies it, wondering if Sith tea is safe to drink.
"I quite understand your caution, my dear," the Sith says lightly, and apparently amused rather than offended. "but really. I'd hardly need to resort to drugging the tea if I wanted to do you harm. Besides," he says with a sideways glance, and a tilt to his lips that says he's perfectly aware of the mischief he's sowing. It's an incredibly attractive expression. "It would quite ruin the flavour."
Cody carefully doesn't roll his eyes at the implied threat. He's spent far too much time near Artery for it to be effective.
He takes a sip and can't stop his nose wrinkling.
"Not to your taste, Commander?" The Sith asks innocently.
Cody tips his head, amused, and concedes the point. He holds the Sith's eyes as he takes another sip of the unpoisioned plant water.
"I usually drink caff, Sir." Cody tells him. "When we have it."
The Sith shakes his head sadly.
"An irredeemable offence, I'm afraid."
"Trust me Sir," Wooley says in the hollow voice of someone who has witnessed unimaginable horrors. "You don't want to see the Commander before he's had his caff."
"Oh do I not?" The Sith asks lightly, voice filled with mischief and innuendo as he tilts his head to study Cody.
"Very few people survive it, Sir." Waxer warns him, and Cody can hear the humour in his voice.
Cody settles back in his seat, folds his arms, and waits for them to finish. He's going to be assigning a lot of KP duty later.
The Sith hums, teasing and thoughtful, gold eyes glittering.
"Is that so?"
Cody sighs.
"You were going to tell us about the ruins, Sir." He prompts. They do in fact have a mission they are supposed to be on. And it isn't to gossip with a pretty Sith about Cody's caff intake.
"You do actually want to know about my research?" The Sith asks, and the faint disbelief in his voice is surprisingly upsetting.
Cody did not start out today expecting to feel bad for a Sith. But here they were.
"Sir, why would we not want to know everything we can about a giant magical obstacle course that tries to kill people?" Wooley asks.
"Proper planning needs research and good intel." Boil confirms.
"Ideally we'd like to know who built it and why, then go from there." Cody explains.
Longshot pouts.
"And all about the arrow traps." He adds with a sigh.
The Sith chuckles and rubs a hand over his beard to hide a smile. Cody really needs to get over how pretty he is.
"Well, where to start..." He muses.
"Do you mind if we take notes, Sir?" Boil asks, pulling out a datapad. The Sith pauses, and then a soft almost shy smile lights up his face. It's adorable.
"I would be delighted." He tells them. "Now then, I think we'd best start with the old Sith Empire."
The history of the Sith is surprisingly interesting, the rise and fall of the empire following a path familiar from many of the historical civilizations he'd learnt the history of on Kamino. He'd had a very thorough training in ways they could be brought down. And the Sith is an excellent teacher, passionate about his topic, but even more in imparting the knowledge. Studying the ruins obviously makes him happy, and he clearly wants to share that.
He's just got to the arrival of Sith on this planet, when, on the ceiling behind the Sith, some form of many-legged, scaly, creeping creature oozes through the stonework. The Sith keeps speaking, apparently oblivious, as Cody grabs for his blaster.
Then there's a flash of a saber, a head falling to the floor, a fraction of a second before blaster bolts impact the body, still clinging to the ceiling with its legs.
At the sound of blaster fire, the Sith does pause. As if he'd intended to continue talking straight through beheading the creature behind him. As if it was nothing more than brushing at a fly.
"Quick work gentlemen." The Sith says, sounding impressed.
"Hardly so bad yourself, Sir." Cody tells him. That was a significantly quicker draw speed than his General.
The Sith blushes.
That's it, Cody's keeping him.
An absolutely adorable, extremely pretty, clever, deadly Sith, out here with an evil magical obstacle course and no one looking after him? He's Cody's now.
Boil kicks him under the table.
Cody ignores him. He has a Sith to lure in.
The Sith in question flicks his gaze, viper quick, to Cody without interrupting the flow of his words. His eyebrow raised in challenge, a flash of a smirk on his lips.
Yes. Cody wants.
He settles back in to listen.
"You have questions, my dear." The Sith prompts once he's finished speaking. Cody had found himself much more interested than he'd anticipated. But still, he has a job to do.
"Can you tell us more about the different types of Sith, Sir?" He asks. "You're very different to the ones we've encountered before." He hasn't attempted to kill them all even once yet. And seems genuinely excited about something that isn't slaughtering everything in sight and ruling whatevers left of the galaxy.
"Ah, forgive me, I'm a little behind on galaxy affairs. You've encountered Sith before? I'm afraid I had been under the impression we were mostly extinct."
Cody wonders just how long it's been since the Sith last ventured out for tea and mugs.
He explains about Count Dooku and his elusive master, and even the rumours of a third Sith, killed on Naboo.
"Oh, they sound like Banite Sith." Their Sith explains, with clear distaste. "From the line of Bane. They believe for some reason that there should only ever be two. The Apprentice eventually killing the Master to prove their superiority or some nonsense and then taking on their own Apprentice and so on." The Sith shakes his head. "Hardly a particularly sound strategy, can you imagine the amount of knowledge that gets lost?"
Cody hides a smile.
"So what then are the similarities, Sir?" Boil asks, "What makes a person a Sith?"
"A Sith's power comes from suffering. I personally, am quite happy to sustain myself on the ambient suffering of the galaxy. Places like this, for example, where there has been a lot of suffering in the past can sustain me indefinitely. Most Sith however seem to be rather power hungry, and therefore apparently determined to cause as much suffering as possible."
"That would explain the war then." Boil says grimly.
"A war?" The Sith asks. It must have been a long time since he last needed tea and mugs.
Cody explains the Separatists and their droid armies, then their own creation.
"Hmm."
Cody stops.
"That rings like a lie in the force." The Sith tells them. "Oh, not to say that you're lying to me," the Sith assures him hurriedly, "I'm sure that's what you were told. Just that it's not true. You weren't created on the orders of the, or even a, Jedi."
"Then who..." Waxer starts, but the pieces all slot together in Cody's brain. Power hungry, and who was it who had been gathering emergency powers? Intel leaks from the highest levels. Someone in a position to manipulate both sides of the war. In a position to cause Galaxy wide suffering.
"Can Sith hide their eyes?" He asks.
"Oh easily," the Sith says, waving a hand, "with contact lenses and the like, the same as anyone else."
Cody nods.
"And can they hide what they are from the Jedi?"
The Sith strokes his beard in thought.
"Theoretically." He says slowly. "I have come across references to a technique to do just that, but had believed it was lost to time. Banite Sith tend to be rather paranoid though, in the way of most power hungry beings, and not prone to sharing knowledge."
"Cody." Boil warns.
"Who...?" Waxer asks.
"I know you don't like him," Boil starts.
"It would explain Skywalker." Wooley says quietly.
"Kriff." Boil breathes.
"Oh karking hells." Waxer whines. "I don't want to be shot for treason. What if Alpha goes through my stuff once I'm dead and finds -" he cuts himself off.
"And finds what, vod." Cody asks flatly.
"Waxer doesn't just read those illicit little novels." Crys says with a smirk.
Waxer makes an annoyed high pitched noise and topples Crys, wrestling him to the ground.
And that's fair. If Waxer is actually writing this stuff, Alpha is the last person he'll want finding it.
"Maybe he'll enjoy it?" Wooley suggests innocently.
The scuffle freezes, both parties pausing to look up at him in horror.
"Can I be of any assistance?" The Sith offers. He's been watching them consideringly for a while.
He definitely could. Having their own Sith would be a massive tactical advantage. And he'd already given them enough knowledge to work out the identity of the Sith master, something the Jedi had been attempting to do since before the start of the war.
"Why?" Cody asks. Why would he want to leave his fascinating deadly ruins and come with them into a war he'd known nothing about?
The Sith smiles a little sadly at them.
"You glow in the force." He tells them. "All of you. Bright and warm and full of love, despite the darkness." His eyes stop on Cody. "Like the sunrise. Steady and gentle and inevitable."
Cody's read about people with melting innards in Waxer's books. They're not physically melting, but his insides definitely feel warm in a way that he decides he definitely likes.
"You saw some ancient terrifying deadly Sith ruins," the Sith continues, "and you rang the door chime. You know exactly what I am, what I'm capable of, and it doesn't bother you in the slightest. You filled my tea chest with ration bars because you were worried I wasn't eating. You are incredible. All of you. Of course I'm going to do what I can to help you."
"Besides," the Sith says, lips quirking in wry smile, "I believe Sith are my problem to deal with. Unlike the Banites who believe there should only be two Sith, I believe there should only be one. Maximum." His smirk is pure trouble, and Cody pushes down a cackle. "So you would really be doing me a favour," the Sith continues, golden eyes glittering with humour "enabling my religious quest in this matter."
Force but the man is beautiful. And so much trouble.
"In that case, Sir," Cody concedes, hiding a smile, "welcome aboard."
"We wouldn't want to stand in the way of a Religious Quest." Boil agrees.
"Yeah," Trapper says, flicking down the visor on his helmet, "We're on a mission from God."
"Well," the Sith says, stroking his beard to hide a smile again, "I'm not sure I'd go quite that far."
"So...." Waxer starts, "How are we smuggling our Sith onto the Negotiator?"
"Oh, there shouldn't be any need for smuggling," the Sith says at the same time as Cody reaches for the cuffs on his belt. "I really must commend you on your ability to capture a Sith." His gaze flicks to Cody, a mischievous little smirk touching at his lips. "We're notoriously difficult to... pin down." He holds out his hands, smug mischief flitting through his eyes.
Cody holds his gaze for a second, eyebrow quirked, amused and not about to back down. Then he drops his eyes to the Sith's deceptively delicate wrists. He curls a hand gently around the bare skin, nudging the edge of a black sleeve out of the way, and snaps the cuffs into place.
"My dear, those aren't even force suppressing."
"Do not attempt to deceive me with your honeyed lies, Sith." He deadpans. The Sith makes a strange noise somewhere between a choke and a giggle. It's horribly endearing. Cody is extremely endeared. "We don't have the budget for force suppressing cuffs, Sir," he adds. "Sorry." Apparently they were a needless expense.
The Sith gives a weary and dramatic sigh.
"It is no matter, Commander." He laments, "I'm sure I shall be able to make do."
"If you could refrain from using your evil force magic to murder us all in our bunks, I'm sure the men would appreciate it, Sir." Cody pauses. "Who should we say you are, Sir?"
The Sith's eyes turn round and horrified.
"Oh Force," he breathes, "I haven't even introduced myself. How abominably rude of me. My apologies Commander...?"
"Cody." He supplies. And the Sith nods with a smile, then moves his gaze to Boil. Once all the men have introduced themselves, "My name's Obi-wan." He tells them.
"You don't have a Sith name, Sir?" Cody asks, "One beginning with Darth?"
"Oh, yes, I probably should have one of those, shouldn't I." Obi-wan muses. "I'm afraid nothing immediately springs to mind."
Cody fights the urge to wrap his Sith up in soft blankets then bash their foreheads together.
There's a thoughtful silence, then the suggestions start coming in thick and fast.
"Darth Archeologist."
"Darth Linguist."
"Darth Loquacious."
Boil eyes Cody sideways.
"Darth Mesh'la." He suggests.
Everything falls silent.
Cody turns his head slowly and pins him with a flat stare.
"Boil's in trouble!" Wooley sing-songs in a whisper.
Cody sighs and glances back at Obi-wan, whose cheeks are flushed pink again. Looks like he understands Mando'a. Cody raises his eyebrows in query.
"You can't seriously suggest that I introduce myself to people as Darth Mesh'la?" Obi-wan asks, sounding horrified at the very idea.
Cody tilts his head.
"It's fitting." And also hilarious.
His Sith's blush intensifies.
"Darth Copikla?" Waxer suggests, trouble lacing his voice.
Obi-wan buries his head in his hands.
"The Chancellor is very old and quite ugly." Cody states, and Cody watches Obi-wan drag his hands down just enough to peer at him over the top of his fingertips.
"You just want the other Sith to be killed by one called Darth Mesh'la." He accuses.
Cody confirms or denies nothing.
Instead he raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "Bold of you to think we'd leave all the fun to you."
"I've always wanted to shoot a Sith." Longshot breathes.
"And Cody knows where Fox keeps his secret stash of slugthrowers." Boil adds.
Obi-wan sighs and shakes his head in defeat, but there's a spark of mischief in his eyes, and curling the corner of his lips.
"Oya." He says, wry.
---
"Imagine you're an evil Sith of despair and darkness, cackling to yourself and plotting galactic domination," Wooley muses, "but all you get remembered for is being killed by Darth Mesh'la."
"You do make a very persuasive argument."