Summary: Darth Sidious ventures deeper into the Ravager.

Authors Note: Sorry sorry sorry for the huge update gap! Life got in the way, as it often does...Enjoy the chapter!

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Sidious stood, waiting, until the light filtering into the corridor behind him began to fade. But it seemed the Force was done with him for the moment. He withdrew his senses and sealed the hatch behind him, killing his wrist light as soon as he clicked the lock in place. An early conversation with Rey popped into his head. An early lesson, to be more accurate.

Rey had picked a day at the end of the week after they returned from Niima, their trading finished for a time. She had begun marking the day off for rest and recovery soon after his arrival; they had a reliable source of tradable parts, and therefore room to breathe. She was planning to take him further into the Graveyard to explore the wrecks…and to help her map out the Gorgon. But she wanted to teach him a few things first.

Such as 'getting to know the dark.' Sidious had kept a straight face and followed her into the sub hold of the Hellhound II. She stood him in the center of the room and turned off their wrist lights. Then she murmured an apology and sealed the hatch. Darkness fell. Well, not so much fell as asserted its proper place in the dead tank. Bereft of all light, natural or otherwise, he might as well have been thrown into a vat of oil.

There was nothing for his weeks-old eyes to work with, and a surprisingly large part of his mind had begun objecting stridently.

Such a human thing to do…

But Darth Sidious had drifted in the Void, lost to sight, sound, and sanity for three decades. Natural darkness was downright comforting in comparison. It was an old friend come to stand by him in trying times.

He'd watched her with other eyes instead, and caught a sudden flare of memory.

A skinny little girl in a grubby tunic slid down the rusted, slanted deck of a wrecked ship, absolute darkness swallowing her. And then cowering inside a sealed compartment, pain wracking her small form, her mind tumbling into raw panic.

It was as if the world had been erased.

No rescue for her, of course. She'd found calm in the forgotten pit, and slowly, painfully, found her bearings and climbed to safety. The other scavengers had looked at her strangely for weeks. People rarely returned if they slipped below the dark line – the part of the ship closed off to natural light, named for the 'water line' on worlds with oceans – without a lantern.

Rey wanted to teach him how to deal with it, in case it happened to him.

Sorry, she'd whispered when she closed the door. But if you're going to be heading out with me… You should feel this.

He'd nodded solemnly, and made a show of calming his breathing. He followed her voice to the door, and then around the room, feeling ahead of him with his arms and mapping the discovered space out in his mind. It was a good idea, and he'd told her so when she declared him ready and they tramped back upstairs for dinner.

I'm sorry I scared you, she'd said. But it's dangerous out there, and I don't want to – I don't want you to get lost if we get separated.

The spark of admiration he had for her had grown a little larger that day.

But he had other ways of finding his way in the Dark. Sidious' body and mind were as one when he strode fearlessly into the dead passage. The Force guided him, helped him step around the wreckage and avoid the dried husks of his subjects.

He located a ventilation shaft a few minutes later, and from there on it was child's play to crawl silently through the tunnels, locate the appropriate corridor, and drop silently to the deck. He slipped easily into the shadows and took a moment to assess the situation.

Unlike the crew's barracks, Cerebos' inner sanctum was nearly clear of debris. The deck gleamed like polished obsidian, cracks and scorch marks covered with soft, finely woven carpet. Much of the overhead metal had also been ripped out and replaced by rich cloth, soft, delicate lengths of shimmersilk, and mismatched, tinkling lamps. Melted bulkheads had been covered with elaborate tapestries, mirrors, and scorched, slanting artwork. Several durasteel hatches had been completely removed, and replaced with drifting shimmersilk curtains.

Scavenged, Sidious thought, waiting for a cluster of lightly clad humanoid females to pass him by. Or spoils... Jakku being, among other things, a low-end smuggler's hub, there were times when vessels carrying luxury goods to the Outer Rim stopped by for spare parts or new crew. Such vulnerable newcomers tended to 'lose track' of at least some of their cargo during their stopovers.

The Sith stepped out of the shadows the second the group vanished around the corner. He straightened his back and lowered his hood, smoothing his hair into some semblance of order. Covering up too much here would draw more attention than not. He could subtly divert attention from his 'strange human hair color' than from the heavy hood and goggles. He adopted a long, confident stride, becoming a raider who was enjoying his moment in this most important of places.

It soon became clear that some effort was being taken to keep the place in order. Two minutes in Sidious spotted a pair of Twi'leks cleaning the deck with some sort of dry chemical.

That explains why it smells like a med bay in here... Sidious held his breath as he stepped through the soup of chemicals. His nose wrinkled further as he passed a side chamber. Cheap perfume -– some manufactured floral scent, likely concocted by someone who had never seen a flower, much less smelled one - filled the corridor as movement stirred behind the semitransparent curtains, the sweet scent mixing in with the acrid chemicals. Sidious was suddenly, powerfully, reminded of a low-end Nabooian embalming lab. Dozens of bodies lined up, waiting under plastic tarps, drenched in perfume to hide the stench of decay.

It was actually quite fitting.

Sidious' lip curled. Suddenly, he couldn't stand to walk the halls any longer. He was in the right place, certainly -– the rich surroundings, the occupants, and the increased guard presence alone told him that –- but he didn't know exactly where Cerebos' quarters were. And wandering these halls aimlessly, surrounded by this desecration... He gathered the Force around him and leapt up into the ceiling, past the drifting silk and glowing lights, and settled in for the long haul, perching like a cliff bat tracking his prey.

Looking down was like looking into a dream, the light softened into a glow, the rosy silk a film over the broken ship. The former Emperor gritted his teeth. It was just so…wrong. The unadorned, efficient beauty of the passageways was marred with greed, twisted by pointless vice. The softened corners and tinkling lights spat in the face of the men and women who had died here, fighting to the end, loyal to the last…

He didn't have to imagine what the Ravager's captain would think.

An hour or so later a sudden surge of volume in the corridors – raised voices, impatient, heavy footfalls –drew him down from his perch for a closer look.

A cluster of Cerebos' lieutenants tramped up the corridor. All had removed their hoods, masks, and helmets, and were trying their very best to not look intimidated by the barbaric display of Wasteland wealth.

No weapons, either, Sidious noted, with a sharp grin.

He lay on his belly along a broken girder a foot or so above the silk screen, trying to catch what they were saying. Thanks to Rey and frequent trips to Niima, his Huttese had gotten considerably better since his awakening. It helped him now with the gnashing, jarring mix of Huttese and Basic that the raiders favored. Rey had noted his distaste for the language early on, and have therefore taken every opportunity to teach him. Nasty but necessary, she'd said.

A truly pragmatic girl.

Fortunately, none of the raiders had an especially extensive vocabulary in either language, and were not bothering to keep their voices down. Sidious watched closely as numerous beings appeared along the sides of the corridor, emerging from side passages and the little screened-off rooms, curious and fearful of the sudden, rough intrusion.

The Sith soon gleaned enough to realize that they were headed to see their leader. He rose, careful not to disturb the silk, and followed, moving from beam to beam, keeping the group in sight.