Verishia pulled the brush through her hair and stared into the mirror, the action was automatic and she didn't think about it. She was in her apartment inside the compound and her mission was over. Her life had changed in a heartbeat and the steel of purpose was replaced with....

With what? Confusion? Isolation? Was she lonely?

She bit the side of her cheek thinking back last night, she had decided to stay, make a place for herself here, but she was not welcome. She was a bully, evil, she had abused Nadine and none of the other employees Brutin kept would treat her well even though she had never done a thing to them but be polite.

Master had told her this would happen, he had been right. People reacted to what they perceived, but they never paid attention, it was a weapon she was going to use against them. It was petty to get revenge, Master would not be pleased with her, showing her that it was a waste of the true talents of a disciple of the Sith but he was not here.

She thought about Nadine, that insufferable girl who loved so much it turned her stomach. No matter what she did people flocked to her and loved her, comforted her. Meanwhile Verishia kept her mouth shut, saying nothing for hours on end in their presence and watched as they judged her. they would pay for that.

Now she served a new mentor, she would learn from this man, his ways were strange, so much like Master, calm, quiet, relentless, unforgiving. She would permit him to shape her, to instruct her and she would learn his ways. And when she was as effective as he was, when she had learned everything there was to know...

She would kill.

The fight had been intense with so much going on that Verishia had to keep tabs on two different opponents separated by distance, using her superior speed and reflexes to take her between each one as need arose. That had also left her vulnerable when the barbed whip had landed on her back, shredding clothing and marking skin.

Now she had to pick out new clothes, her others were consigned to the garbage heap. She had bathed for the day and sent everyone else away, the slaves were distracting as well, she needed to be alone.

She stood in front of the closet and looked over the choices, her own clothing kit had been shipped in from the Supremacy where she had served as attache to Jerrod, but someone had added others.

She finished drying off her hair and then threw the towel on the bed, standing there completely naked she was a clean slate, she kept hearing Tara and Nat in her head about what weapons only a woman could wield, or Nadine explaining how men reacted to women.

She had always been the feared, aloof and untouchable Verishia Duket, she had never gone so far as to shake a man's hand, who would find her desirable? Why? Gun had but was he teasing her? Mocking her?

She grabbed randomly, a dress, she flung it to the floor with a snarl, there was no way. She glanced over the rest of the choices but that nagging in the back of her mind wouldn't let her concentrate. She turned and stared at the crumpled dress like at any moment it would get up and walk on it's own power.

Finally she sighed and picked it up, figuring out that you put it on over your head, she snuggled into it, surprised that it fit around her. She stared at herself in the mirror for several moments, turning this way and that before she finally took it off and began trying on other things.

One after the other she went through the whole lot, dropping what she wore on the floor and went to the next until there was nothing left to try, her face was haggard, she had looked...

She turned suddenly and went to her drawer, pulling it out to look at the various undergarments. Neat rows of her own sitting beside dainties placed there as a gag or maybe in hope. She reached out and picked up a pink pair of panties and held them up. There was no backside to them, the amount of cloth the entire garment presented was barely enough to cover her hand up to her wrist. The backside was a single thin strip that went up the middle.

"Now that doesn't look comfortable."

She dug out the complimenting chest supporter, the cups rising barely high enough to cover the breasts. What was covered seemed transparent, skin showing through the lace. There just wasn't much there. She would feel vulnerable and exposed under her clothing, a constant reminder of her nearly naked condition.

Her eyes narrowed and she looked right, the bedroom was empty, the bath door was standing wide open and no one was there either. Her eyes went left and the front door was empty as well, the foyer and sitting room barren.

She looked back at the pink bra and panties.