Ami woke up late, as she suddenly sat up with a start, gasping, a cold sweat running down her brow. Her eyes were unfocused, like she was still dreaming, pain lanced through her whole body but it wasn't registering to her quite yet. For now she stared at the wall until her eyes unglazed and she let out a gasping breath, the pain subsided quickly and she could breath again. The human slave looked around the room and found no one was around, this seemed like it was going to be par for the course, they did not seem like a demanding couple and that suited her just fine. While she lived to serve, sometimes a bit of downtime was nice too. Ami leaned back against the foot of the bed and stared off into space, the sweat on her nude body sparkling in the faint glow of the room's lighting.
This was not the first time she'd had that dream and it likely wouldn't be the last. The slave girl crawled to her feet and stepped silently to the door, letting it slide open. She stuck her head into the hall and peered both ways, listening. She didn't hear anything, and her gut feeling didn't seem to feel anyone either, perhaps they went out, this would be a good time to get something done... But her libido was telling her otherwise. She glanced back to the clock, it was late, well late by a slave's standards, they let her sleep in this long and left her alone, a little fun couldn't hurt... 10 blissful minutes later Ami was laying in the afterglow of her own attentions, a content sound escaping those pretty babydoll lips. Once she regained the use of her legs, and her head was back on straight, she stood, and started to gather up laundry to throw in with her bedding. It wouldn't be proper to leave her bedding in that state after all, especially since it was making the room reek of sex. Once a load of laundry was thrown in Ami began straightening up any room she was told she was allowed in, scrubbing the bathrooms, cleaning the room, making the bed.
When she finished the parts of the ship she cleaned would be spotless. Still no one, so perhaps it was time for a shower, which she savored a bit, since it was her first hot shower by herself and it was simply divine. Upon finishing the shower she stepped out, toweled off and slipped into a pair of panties, remembering Mistress Minabi saying she preferred her clothed. Even though she liked roaming naked the words of her mistresses were law, and even if they weren't around she would adhere to them. Laundry was being done, the parts of the ship she had access to were clean, and she was showered and smelling as sweet as she looked. And still no one was back yet... She had more downtime, what would she do with it? The slave sat on the edge of the bed and stared, a little lost without someone barking constant orders in her ear, perhaps some baking? That was always relaxing and she was sure Mistress Minabi and Mistress Sia wouldn't mind coming home to something sweet and doughy, so she made her way into the kitchen and started looking for ingredients.
Sia is about to come home, or rather, back to the ship anyway. She had been out going about her business, which meant that she had talked to a couple of her contacts through several messages and had arranged for some more detailed info. She was in good spirits though. The trail on her Mistress was growing warmer and she was certain that by the end of the week, she would have confirmed results. Now though, she was free for the day and she was of a mind to get some training done, which was why she headed back to the ship. The hangar around the ship was good for practice. She'd just go in briefly to drop off her cloak. Of course, the Sith wasn't yet used to having a slave-girl on board, so when she feels the girl's presence, she is at first furious, anger bubbling inside her as she storms towards the "kitchen" area of the ship, which is really not much more than a food prep-unit. Once she remembers about the girl though, she slows down, a slight smirk as she arrives inside the ship and stares at the girl for a moment, wordlessly. Sulfur eyes, brimming with intensity stare at the younger girl, surrounded by those thin, dark lines, ruptured blood-vessels, the Sith looks positively demonic. She would nod once though, before shedding her cloak and tossing it over the co-pilot's seat. The ship wasn't a big freighter, after all; and she turned and headed back towards the outside.
Ami felt the rage approaching her, she sensed Sia's darkness mingling with such an emotion and whipped around to come face to face with the woman. Sia would see true dread in the slave's ice blue gaze, her heart pounding in her little chest as she sank to her knees, a gesture of submission to stem the brutality she thought was coming... but when Sia smirked and nodded, then turned to leave Ami let out a sigh of relief, dropping on her hands and knees to catch her breath, and perhaps let out a nervous laugh.
Sia smirked faintly. She felt the girl's relief and she was amused by it even. It was as Minabi said. People feared Sia, mostly because they tended to only see her in two moods. Either calm and icy, or in the rage of fighting. Both did not serve to let people believe she could be anything but cruel and there -were- stories circling about her cruelty. Of course, there were also stories about her abundance in sexual activities, but for some reason, those rumors were only whispered and even then, only in the darkest of dark places. Yes, she was feared, but she was, truth be told, far from that... evil, for lack of a better word. As she stepped outside and unclipped both her lightsabers, she prepared, mentally, for the training regimen she had set herself.
Ami couldn't find the ingredients needed for baking... nor did she even find the tools, but if tools were the only issue, a good slave could always improvise. Ami instead decided to step outside, sitting on the ground nearby to watch Sia train. She had seen Jedi and Sith before, she had even seen them kill, but members of the exchange did not put up much of a fight against their kind and usually it was a single swipe of the blade that ended the fight. She was curious to see how the woman prepared herself for real battles, the ones that made killing 10 gangsters such a mundane task.
Sia did not really prepare here. She just needed to keep her skills honed, especially as one of her largest fights was coming towards her rapidly. Since Ami could feel Sia's darkness, she would also feel the channeled rage that welled up in the Sith as she focused for a brief moment, eyes closed, standing still. The rage was almost tangible, flaring through the small woman like a bright inferno. When Sia opened her eyes, the area surrounding her pupils, a dark crimson usually, was suddenly flaring almost brightly red. She was suddenly in motion and her motions had nothing to do with coordinated fighting, not to anyone who was not trained anyway. She was difficult to even follow with the naked eye, her Force-Speed making her motions seem a blur as she leaped, ducked, swiped at imaginary foes. Rage pulsed through the Sith and she moved with the ebb and flow of that rage. A predator, a wild beast.
Ami winced, sensing the dark side lapping at her body like tongues of flame, it was nothing so oppressive as a truly evil Sith, but she felt as if she had gotten too close to a candle. She stayed silent however and simply watched, she didn't want to break Mistress Sia's concentration, lest that fury be turned on her. Ami was not so skilled at fighting, all the men and women she had killed had come in the afterglow of lovemaking, or that person sleeping after a massage. Some might call her dishonorable, but she did as she was told in the manner in which she could best accomplish her task... if she had to kill a man while his pants were down instead of fighting him honorably? Well so be it, that's how she's here to serve Minabi and Sia today. Still... such skill made her envious, wondering what her life might be like if she were not a slave, pondering if perhaps she had the force and might have been trained to perform like that.
Sia does not focus on anything but her training. She trains harshly, furiously and she expends all her strength, speed and agility. By the middle of her session she is leaping off the walls, dodging imaginary attacks, the lightsabers swirling discs of energy in her hands as she went through the training-set. The Dark Side lapped at her, true, since she fueled her strength with her anger and fury, but she had it under control, amazingly so in fact. She had that thin strand between the rage overflowing and the rage being in check and she held on to it to a fault. Still, eventually, she was done, landing where she had started with a resounding crash. The ground beneath her splintered a little and both blades sunk deep into the durasteel floor before the sabers were extinguished and the Sith rose slowly, breathing deeply, quickly, sweat glistening on her exposed, creamy white skin.
