It’s taken ages, but I suspect my Master has finally figured out that what he viewed as a flaw in my personality or thought process is an asset more than anything.
Kind, even. Disarmingly charming. Friendly, social, affable, adaptable. I had to learn to portray all of these things accurately while growing up. It was expected of the slaves to be presentable both physically and in terms of etiquette and interaction with those around them.
It’s quite easy for me to fall back on a lifetime of having to be gracious, welcoming, and submissive (though not in the way of acting like a cringing idiot, more in the way of simply knowing my place in the social strata), especially when I know that such an attitude is disarming.
No one expects it from a Sith. Some call it for the act that it is, but I am so terribly convincing at being hurt by that accusation that it’s usually dropped and apologized for. Most are simply knocked off balance by a Sith who does not strut and fling arrogance like a spoiled child flinging toys around a nursery.
The Jedi woman I spoke with last night was the latter. The quiet one with her the former. He was useless, but it was necessary to placate him to the degree that he felt me at least harmless enough to engage in conversation.
Honestly, we were in the marketplace in Voss-Ka, what did he think I was going to pull?
But, her. She was glorious. She’d make an excellent Sith. That woman didn’t even try to mask all of the anger she felt toward me simply for daring to speak to her or, I suspect, simply for existing at all.
Oh, and she was angry. And afraid.
The mention of my finding my Master’s tactics somewhat heavy handed and based more on emotion than common sense—it was as though I’d physically hit her; that surge of emotionm, that surge of fear that radiated, if only for a moment…
I hadn’t bargained on the latter; it felt like unexpected dessert, somehow.
Some idiot Sith decided I was, apparently, ‘starting a fight’, though I’ll never quite figure out how she came to that conclusion when we were discussing, in vague terms, philosophy in a marketplace. None of us had weapons drawn or were in even remotely aggressive or defensive stances. I must admit, I was irritated by the fact that the Sith would not take my word for it and instead waited for the Jedi to tell her that I was not some horrible Twi’lek bully.
Bet she only had a problem with it because I was Twi’lek anyway. A Pureblood or a Human would have been passed without notice.
I don’t mind, however, that continued sort of—attitude—only serves to make me stronger.
My Master knows all of this, of course.
I have been given free reign to toy with this Jedi woman as I see fit, up to and including appearing to dislike my station in life and the Sith in general.
The suspicious one with her told me twice that the proverbial door was open should I ever wish to defect. My Master tells me that that could be an incredibly useful ‘hope’ to play off of, and I agree.
I am beginning to see why he enjoys these sorts of games.