Crimson Guard

7 - Ship

     Walking aboard the Executor, the atmosphere was more... relaxed. Around the Emperor, everyone seemed to be on their best behavior at all times. There was a strong feeling of fear certainly, mostly coming from the Emperor himself, but beneath all of that was a strong push and urge to please. Yazasha had a feeling that this had something to do with the Force. She may not know how it worked, but she had heard stories of different abilities. Influencing the minds of others, lifting and moving things, creating lightning, healing injuries, fostering fear, even cultivating trust and fondness. 

      Here, there wasn't so much of an atmosphere of eagerness and fear. There was a wariness, but it was more of an exasperated kind, almost accustomed. The troops acted more like comrades rather than mechanical squadrons. Not to mention the officers stared at her and her arm less. Yazasha knew she drew attention, what with her height and muscle, but she did not enjoy the spotlight. Not that she hated it, really, a spotlight could be useful sometimes. But she had learned long ago how to turn off whatever it was that made people look her way, able to fade into the background if only for a moment of peace - a rare thing for a slave - and she had figured out how to make people like her. To lean in her favor. 

    With the first owner who taught her to fight, she knew better than to let out everything in the ring. If there was one thing she learned from years being passed around, it was how to walk the line of being good enough that someone else would want to purchase her, but not so good they couldn't give her up for a good price. The better she was the more money was offered, but she never gave her absolute best. She was treated better the higher she made her way up, until she displeased the one who threw her into the fighting ring. The only reason he gave her up was to avoid any possible rebellious streak mixing in with her violent reactions. The Zygerrian male had taken her back to his planet and turned her into a brawler, the best of the best. Ruthless. She had talked him into letting her keep some of her pay, plying his ego by saying that seeing her with her own things would show the competition just how wealthy he was to keep his slaves in such good condition. Then Jabba had come around, and Yazasha had scented an even better deal. 

     The great slug was greedy, everyone knew that. He hated losing and would do pretty much anything to get his way. But he also loved a good deal, a good bargain. As long as he figured he won no matter what. So, when his champion walked into the ring, she put more effort in than usual, and more theatrics. Everyone knew Jabba enjoyed a show. So she toyed with the champion, letting him grow more angry and stupid as the fight went on. When she knew she had Jabbas's undivided attention, she struck, beating the man mercilessly, each strike calculated. When the arena master gave the signal for the champion's death, she did not hesitate to comply. Jabba had made a deal with the very drunk Zygerrian that night, and the next morning she met her new "master". No matter how many owners she had, Yazasha had never called one of them by that title. In the dialects she knew of various other languages picked up from fellow slaves, the title meant "teacher" to most, and not one of the disgusting people who purchased her life had taught her a damn thing other than pain and anger.

     Jabba had been thoroughly impressed by her performance, and as a result was inclined to listen as she made a proposal. She got to keep a third of whatever he won using her as his champion, and she put everything into each fight. He had no obligation to deal with her, he could have refused to listen to a word she said and thrown her in the ring anyway, but the promise of more entertainment caught his attention, and her violent and calculating nature was something Jabba understood. Something he admired, if the slug was capable of such sentiment. So he had agreed to her terms, which she knew he never would have done if he had any idea at all about what she had set aside from her previous deal with the Zygerrian. Thinking about Jabba had her reminiscing about her last encounter with him, before Tarkin had offered her this.