Nar Shaddaa

Layne moved toward the quarters where she had found Haydriss before; full of malice. Full of spite. Full of 'get the fuck out of my way, stupid guard'. Nobody would tell her 'sorry my lord, she's not available'. A sith demands. And Layne, demanded entrance.

Lord Haydriss stayed behind her desk and buzzed the door open. "Anger. What action did I commit to earn this?"

And in she stomped, glaring down at the masked Sith lord. Yet for all her anger, she did not move to attack, nor even speak until she channeled that anger and hate into something more... subdued.

"Your incompetence when selecting your associates, for starters. Or did you make your selections on purpose, I wonder."

The Sith Lord tilted her head. "If all of my choices are incompetent, then that would speak poorly of you." She rose from her desk and folded her hands in front of her. "I assume something occurred while you were with Rumun Gol."

"The Jaw of Oblivion will not be supplying you with slaves anymore," she stated with finality.

"And why is that? Did you slaughter them all? Have they disappeared completely?"

"No. They are under my command now. You probably should not have chosen a former 'member' of the Jaw for this mission."

Lord Haydriss tilted her head. "Fascinating. I assumed you would attack them. Clearly you should not expect to be awarded for this so why are you here? To antagonize me?"

"Your research," she said, now tilting her own head in mock imitation of Haydriss, "it bears certain similarities to that of Darth Zash. Did you know that?"

A pause. "DId Rumun Gol tell you that?" She shook her head. "That is irrelevant to your question. I imagine our research is similar but I cannot confirm it unless I collaborated with her fully."

"See," she said, shaking her head in an eerily similar fashion to what Haydriss had just done, "that doesn't really work for me."

Layne started pacing a little. "Oh I know what you'd say. We're all about the darkside. What's a little sacrifice to people like us? Why do you care, Layne? What's wrong with you? It's just been forty, fifty slaves I murdered. That's nothing!"

She stopped pacing and looked directly at Haydriss. "And I'd say something like.... oh I know. But it just... really... fucking pisses me off."

"On the contrary, Layne, I would not claim such." Lord Haydriss let out a small chuckle. "You would make an excellent pupil if you did not detest me. I can feel your anger lingering in the air."

"Brilliant fucking deduction. It's not like I literally just told you I'm angry or anything."

She took a step closer to the desk.

"You couldn't even finish the Kaggath by yourself. Your research is just a failing copy of someone better's. And you seem unable to inspire any loyalty among the people in your employ."

And another step.

"What could you possibly have to teach or offer me that I couldn't find anywhere else?"

"There is a difference, Layne. An ordinary person could scream and not change the area around them." She let out another small laugh. "But I knew you would make such a remark anyways."

Lord Haydriss kept her stance. "My research differs from Darth Zash. Hers is focused on her own being and relies on sapping Force energy. Mine expands past my own form and hopes to create life.

"As for what I can teach, any Lord possesses secrets. Your former peer, Jo'ren, has learned to harness his anger to fuel his control over the Force. That is why I spoke of your anger and how it could be used for more."

"You hope to create life by ending it. It takes a special kind of madness to fail the first forty times doing that, and then just keep going. You will not use slaves for this purpose anymore."

She paused before continuing. "As for anger. I have enough of that already. I neither need nor want your help to cultivate it... got anything else?"

"SIth Lords are often driven insane by lofty goals," she mused.

Lord Haydriss took a breath. "Why are you here, Layne? Do you wish to slay me for my grievances towards you? Are you trying to leverage me for favors?"

"Honestly? I haven't fully decided yet."

Lord Haydriss plopped back down onto her chair and looked at the Little Wrath. "It has been awhile since I have been so flabbergasted."

"Good," she said, somehow pleased; in annoying teenage fashion; by the fact she'd seemingly both surprised and annoyed the sith lord.

"Because if that is the case, then you can not arrogantly imagine yourself to understand or predict me. And hopefully, if you have any smarts after all, that'd keep you from making any mistakes in your dealings with me, like thinking you can just dismiss me without giving me my due."

Assuming there was a second chair in the room somewhere, Layne grabbed it by the backrest, angled it toward her, and sat down.

"So, how are you going to settle this... disagreement between us?"

The Sith Lord watched Layne take her seat, her confusion masked by, well, the mask. "If I cannot predict your actions, then how will I predict your desires?"

"Now how did you ever become a Sith lord if you can not answer such a basic question?"

She leaned back in her chair. "I mean you could make me an opening offer. Credits. A useful holocron. Connections. Favors. And then you just see if I get intrigued by the offer or not. Isn't that the nature of negotiation?"

Layne was such... a fucking brat about all of this; with a smug as shit smirk.

"My prior offers are still available to you. Health care, credits." Lord Haydriss tapped her fingers on her chair, still more confused than anything else. "Darth Malgus is my master. His connections align with mine." She took a long inhale. "I have a collection of Force spirits. Your accomplice, Rumun Gol, encountered one already."

"You mean a collection of souls belonging to the slaves you murdered. That *is* how you created them is it not?"

"Incorrect. The spirits in question are from the tomb of Tulak Hord." A pause. "To label them as spirits may be an error. They may be a phenomenon created by the Dark Side to emanate those long deceased."

"Force ghosts," she said dismissively. "I've had a few of my own."