**Asajj Ventress** hated the Jedi. Not because the Sith, to whom she now belonged, hated them—no, her hatred ran much deeper.
Long ago, fate had brought her together with **Ky Narec**, a Jedi sent by the Council to resolve a conflict on **Rattatak**. His ship had crashed, and she had saved his life using the Force. Recognizing her innate potential, he began to train her—teaching her the ways of the Light Side.
He reported his discovery to the Council.
"She has a strong inclination toward the Dark Side of the Force. You cannot teach her," they warned.
Ky ignored them. He continued her instruction while attempting to mediate peace on Rattatak—though the Jedi offered no assistance even when he requested it.
Together, Asajj and Ky became heroes. They reduced violence and encouraged dialogue among the warring clans. But not everyone welcomed peace. Her master was struck down by a sniper's single, perfect shot. That was when Ventress fell. Consumed by grief and rage, she surrendered to the Dark Side. She hunted the sniper and every member of the gang responsible.
All that remained of her teacher were his lightsaber and a tattoo on her face—one he had given her himself. It symbolized "wanderer," a reminder of everything she had lost.
Soon, she added twelve new markings, each representing an enemy she had slain. After seizing their territories, Ventress forced her new captives to build a great fortress for her—from which she ruled her conquests.
She kept Ky's lightsaber as a relic, though her hatred for the Jedi who had abandoned him only grew.
In time, fate brought her to another Master—**Count Dooku**. He demonstrated the true power of the Dark Side. In a short duel, he defeated her effortlessly and shattered Narec's lightsaber. In return, he offered her apprenticeship, and Ventress accepted. Dooku gifted her new curved-hilted, crimson-bladed lightsabers—they suited her perfectly.
She ran a gloved hand lovingly along one of the hilts.
After completing several minor assignments, Ventress embarked on her first true mission: **Randon**. A group of Republic senators was traveling there under Jedi protection. Her orders were clear: eliminate **Senator Mora Vol Dergar** of the Glythe Sector—and the Jedi. All others were to remain unharmed; they were still needed.
In a few hours, a small transport would arrive in orbit. For now, she meditated—preparing for the battle ahead.
---
## Dagon's Perspective
Damn politicians drive me crazy. Nothing but blabbermouths and idealists. I need to distract myself, or my head's going to explode from all this talk.
And then there's Chuchi and her request… and I, like an idiot, decided to play the hero and wag my tail like a puppy. Now I have to keep that promise. But how?
Seeking solitude, I wandered into the cargo compartment where the battle droids were stored. Ahsoka was already there, practicing with her lightsaber.
"To paraphrase the greats," I murmured, "there are three things you can watch forever: flowing water, a burning fire, and a Jedi dancing with a lightsaber."
Ahsoka lacked polish, but her agility and grace more than made up for it. I fell a little out of reality just watching her.
---
The cargo bay was packed with droids, though a few dozen square meters remained free—the area Ahsoka had claimed for training.
She noticed me standing near a crate.
"Master?"
"Huh?" I blinked, shaking myself out of thought.
"You've been staring at the same spot for five minutes," she said with a grin.
"Sorry. Lost in thought. Practicing again?"
"Yes. What do you think?"
"Not bad. Beautiful, even. If your blade were red, you'd look truly menacing."
"I'm not a Sith!" she protested indignantly.
"Not a Sith, you say?" I replied with a smirk. Then I rummaged through my belt pouch and pulled out a coil of sturdy rope. Cutting off a short length with my saber, I held out my hand. "Give me your lightsaber."
She obeyed, puzzled. I threaded the rope through the hilt's mounting ring and tied a firm knot, then fastened the other end to her belt.
"Um… Master, what's this for?" she asked, brow furrowed.
"In ancient times, Jedi carried their sabers like this—connected to a power pack on the belt. Those were called Jedi swords. What you're holding now is a Sith sword. The Dark Lords perfected the lightsaber by placing the energy cell in the hilt."
Ahsoka eyed her weapon curiously. *Hutt, Master's getting carried away again*, she thought. Still… his stories were always fascinating.
Under my watchful eye, she made tentative swings. The rope restrained her movements, forcing faster, sharper motion.
---
"Master?" she called again. "If the Jedi now use Sith lightsabers, does that make us Sith?"
"A long time ago," I explained, "during Naga Sadow's invasion—over five thousand years ago—the Sith perfected lightsaber technology. Jedi still fought with protosabers because they hadn't mastered it yet. After the Sith were defeated, the Jedi adopted the modern lightsaber."
"But… that doesn't make us Sith, right?" she asked hesitantly.
"Well," I said with mock seriousness, "what's stopping you from making your blade red?"
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"Nothing? Master, are you serious?"
"Of course," I grinned.
I activated my lightsaber—it blazed **red**.
"What? Remember, when building a lightsaber you can add lens refractors to customize the color. Some choose to, some don't," I said.
I switched it to blue, then green, and back to normal blue.
"I wonder what Master Yoda would say if a young Padawan forgot the simple rules."
"Arrgh! Master!" she shouted.
"What?" I asked innocently, watching her flail and blush.
---
The cargo bay echoed with the hum of lightsabers, the distant clatter of droids, and the laughter of a Jedi and his Padawan at play—a rare calm before the storm of politics, diplomacy, and the danger that awaited us on **Randon**.