"And so begins my legacy."—Arianwin Malav He sat with his back towards me. Tense. Alert. The door clicked shut behind me. Even through the walls, I could hear the confused whispers of the doctors and nurses around us. No one knew who I was. My form was shrouded to prevent infection from attacking the weeping scars along my skin. My awareness sifted through the memories of a nearby nurse. She had never treated Quinn directly but knew of him. Imperial soldiers had found him half buried in rubble clinging stubbornly to life. Recovery had been slow; she'd heard he was a difficult patient. A hollow smile flickered across my lips when I came across an incident involving Quinn and an alarming number of medical packs. I measured the number of paces it would take for my hand to reach his throat. It would be so easy to choke the life out of him from where I stood but I wanted to look him in the eye when he died. He owed me that much at least. "Quinn." He shot to his feet and spun around. The sudden motion disoriented him, and he cracked his shin against the chair. I frowned when he angled his head to try to zero in on where I stood. Something was wrong. His hospital room was well-lit but his gaze remained unfocused. When I saw the deep scars around his eyes, I cursed. I would recognize the scorch marks left behind by a lightsaber anywhere. Draagh must've toyed with my Captain, blinded him, before leaving his body behind to rot. Diving into Quinn's mind for answers, I teased apart the dark tendrils in his consciousness and found…nothing. He was gone. I flinched. His body may have healed but his memory had been permanently damaged. He barely remembered his own name, let alone the events that occurred over the last year. "At ease," I barked. Whatever there was left of him, my Captain still retained some memory of being a military man. He visibly relaxed at my words. I should've killed him right then and there but I remembered the darkness that surrounded Yonlach's creature back on Tattooine. Quinn's mind had been held captive then. Perhaps I could figure out a way to lift the sickness that gripped him now. Pulling out a chair, I invited him to sit next to me. Something told me this was a darkness that couldn't be conquered by strength alone. Instead, I began to tell him my life's story: my mother's death on Nar Shaddaa, the night I became Baras' apprentice, my victory over Rathari and Yonlach. I continued long after my lips began to peel and my voice grew hoarse. And as I talked, I wandered through the empty labyrinth of his mind. Certain words would spark a response, and I focused on those particular memories that seemed to resonate with him. I told him how I'd given him all of me the night he took me hard and fast against my ship. I talked about his betrayal, the crew's death, and Fury's destruction. Without mincing words, I told him he should've died a horrible death on Hoth. He cringed and began to wring his hands as if my words pained him. When I told him about our daughter, his restlessness stilled. "A daughter?" Quinn's voice cracked. "I have a daughter?" His hands fumble for mine as he struggled to shake off the fog clouding his mind. To prove I was telling the truth, I placed his hand over my growing belly. When he felt our daughter kick, he fell to his knees in front of me with a cry. His mind surged to life, and for a moment, I was held in thrall by the extent of his anguish. He buried his face into his hands as he grappled with the terrible knowledge of what he'd done. "My Lord, I've betrayed you and conspired with your most hated enemy. I don't expect your mercy." I remained silent. "But I beg of you, let me live long enough to hold my daughter in my arms. Permit me to stay in your charge, and you will never have cause to question my dedication again." "You betrayed me once. I would be a fool to allow you to do it again." "I will earn your trust," Quinn swore. "I will protect our daughter the way I should've protected you." Coldness seeped into my soul. He would've foreseen the consequences of his betrayal. He would've known what his decision costed me, and he went through with it anyway. "There's nothing we can't achieve together," Quinn continued. He leaned over and clumsily tried to embrace me. "Marry me, my Lord. After all we've been through, the good and the bad, you will never have cause to question my dedication to you and your legacy again." He had no way of knowing how much his touch burned. Excruciating pain shot through me like my body had been set on fire again. As I sat shuddering within his arms, I felt the shadows whispering in his mind and knew his clarity would eventually disappear. It was only my presence that kept his sickness at bay but my Captain would soon be lost to the darkness again. My fingers caressed his face, memorizing all the little details that would have to sustain me for the rest of my life. Pain mingled with regret when he pulled me against him as if he would never let me go. "Marry me," Quinn breathed. He pulled me onto his lap. For a moment, my body remembered the feel of him inside me, and I burned with a fever that rivaled the pain rippling across my skin. "I will marry you, Quinn," I whispered. I arched my back and rubbed against him. My mind joined with his, and we danced in the shadows of his memory with our souls entwined as one, our bodies whole and healthy without the scars from what was yet to come. [Note from the author: Things get a little steamy for the rest of this chapter. If you want to keep going, I've posted the full version here. And this is the end of my fanfic by the way so hopefully you'll click on the link to finish the rest. If you've made it this far, I hope you enjoyed yourself. FOR THE EMPIRE! ] The End

"Pain will set you free." —Arianwin D'yer. Pain greeted me like an old friend. She breathed against my skin and licked away my tears. I swam through darkness, floating in a sea of agony. Part of me struggled against her seductive pull. Like a siren's song, her wails lulled me into a stupor. No! I screamed at her, fought against her. Despite the pounding in my head, I challenged her to do her worst. Vengeance infused my weakened limbs with renewed strength. I opened my eyes. The room hadn't changed but this cycle felt different. The chains that bound my wrists had been hooked onto a beam along the ceiling. I hung suspended in the air. Countless wounds had been reopened along my naked body, and blood steadily dripped down into the metallic tub below. The lightwhip crackled in the air. Its hissing sound served as my only warning before pain lunged at me with claws extended. My body jerked. I tasted blood. The skin along my back already hung in strips of smoking flesh but still the lashing continued. "Enough," Servant One said. I bared my teeth at the unwelcome interruption. The Emperor's Hands had chosen to keep me alive after they'd killed Draagh. For four months, I had been beaten, drowned, and whipped without fail. Nothing in my body had been left untouched: bones broken, fingernails ripped, kneecaps twisted. Their pathetic attempts to break my will left my body a bloodied mess but I simply endured. Pain was everything to a Sith. Each lash of the whip purged away the weakness of this flesh, and I wanted more. The sharper the pain, the more vivid the memories of the lives I'd taken. I relieved their screams, heard their cries for mercy, experienced the precise moment when death finally came. Their ecstasy fluttered beneath my hands, and I saw their reverence for life in the whiteness of their eyes. A weak laughter emerged from my throat. Nothing could break me as long as I had hate to sustain me. Everything the Emperor's Hands did to me, I vowed to do to Baras. Hell hath no fury like a Sith scorned, and so I watched and waited for a chance to escape. My mind flickered to the presence growing inside my belly. No matter the cost, I would live to teach my daughter the ways of the Sith. Even now, I whispered to her the ancient Code, shared with her the hatred I'd learned throughout the years, and focused my Force to give her the life she needed to survive. My daughter gave me a strength of purpose I had never known before. Without question, I would lay down my life to protect this child of mine, and I held this new-found emotion close to my heart. "The Wrath is ready for ascension," Servant Two murmured. I spat in his face. Whatever the Emperor wanted, I refused to be a part of it. Aside from Baras' death, I had only one calling left, and that was to see my daughter live. Four men emerged from the shadows. They unchained my wrists and gently lowered me into the tub until I was half submerged in blood. Three of them held my body down. The fourth gripped my head tightly in his hands. Servant One bent over me. He anointed my brow with a clear odorless liquid. "You are the last to survive the Emperior's Trial. Your will is strong but you have lost your way." "The Wrath's heart is torn," Servant Two murmured. "Pledge your allegiance to the Emperor," Servant One continued, "become His Wrath, and wield untold power over your enemies." "Pain shall set the Emperor's Wrath free." I heard the hiss of a match, smelled the acrid scent of smoke. Without warning, tears began to stream down my face. I knew what I had to become in order for my daughter to live through this day. The Emperor would demand all of me; there could be nothing left. I howled like an enraged beast at the sudden knowledge that my hunger for power would one day destroy my own daughter. "Choose," Servant One commanded. "The Wrath will ascend." Servant Two smiled. His eyes flickered down to my belly. "The Wrath's legacy will be complete." My eyes met his, and an unspoken understanding passed between us. Become the Emperor's Wrath, and the Hand will protect my daughter. My path was suddenly clear. "So be it." My body bursted into flames. Searing pain tore me into chunks of agony as my skin blistered and burned. I thrashed against the hands that held me down. A high-pitched shriek escaped my lips. Driven mad by the excruciating torment, my mind exploded outwards. Force rippled through the room, destroying everything it touched. I felt the four men around me die, and I drank in their deaths as if their souls could give me the clarity to rise above this dying body. Blistering energy pulsed in time to my thundering heartbeat. The fire around me burned a white-hot hue. And I began to See. Through the haze of pain, I tapped into the current of energy that ran through all living things. This web reverberated with perfect strength and perfect power. It freed me from the clutches of this mortal coil, and I discovered I could straddle the edges of galaxies and perceive the darkest secrets of man. Distance and time meant nothing to me. I breathed in the universe, and it breathed with me. My chains shattered, and the flames around me died. I hummed with the pain of a thousand deaths writhing beneath my oozing flesh. No one would ever stand in my way again. Not Baras, not the Emperor, not even my unborn daughter could compare with this state of savage perfection that claimed my soul. "Rise," Servant One commanded. "You have one more task to fulfill before the Emperor will accept you as his Wrath." "The journey is incomplete," Servant Two murmured. I frowned. "I will kill Baras." Servant One shook his head. "The Emperor will unleash you against your former master soon." "Then wha—" "Captain Malavai Quinn is still alive." "The Wrath's heart still lives," Servant Two intoned. An old muscle twitched inside me as memories of my Captain resurfaced: the warmth of his hand against my cheek, his unyielding strength against the enemies of the Empire, the heat of him pulsing inside me. It felt like a lifetime ago. "But he is not as he once was," Servant One continued, "just as you are not as you once were." "The Wrath's heart is broken." "But he's alive." My lips tightened. Quinn was my only weakness. The Code demanded retribution, and it was my right as Sith to wield the blade that would end his life.

"Defy me, and it will end badly."—Arianwin D'yer Betrayal. It turns us into fools. Sharper than a knife, stronger than the Force, betrayal rips you apart from the inside out. Your secrets lie exposed like eviscerated flesh for all the world to see. But without betrayal, we are nothing. This beautiful agony slashes at your veins until you bleed out the sins of your mortal soul. In the ashes of your death, you become reborn. On the day I died, the first betrayal destroyed my ship. I'd felt Fury's angry howl before an immense explosion ripped her apart. She who flew with me to the farthest reaches of the galaxy and showed me the meaning of true freedom died that day. The second betrayal came at the hand of my master's apprentice. Lying in the smoldering rubble that once was my ship, my hands fumbled to defend myself. My weakness infuriated me, drowned me in self-loathing. As Draagh's saber descended, I looked into his eyes and saw death. Betrayal. It escapes you when you look for it but blindsides you when you turn away. In the place where shame and grace collide, I remembered the way my Captain's hands had gripped my thighs, the way his lips had claimed my body for his own. Like a weak-willed acolyte, I'd allowed him to touch the deepest part of me. My Captain had planted the bomb that destroyed my ship. He'd given my enemies the coordinates to find me. His misplaced sense of honor had chosen Baras, and in so doing, had presented Draagh with the perfect opportunity to kill both of us in one fell swoop. Everything in me cried out for vengeance. Nothing but my Captain's pain would set me free. And yet. And yet. No matter how I tried, my traitorous heart refused to move. Even as hands pulled me away, I continued to claw at Quinn's unconscious form. I felt his mind slip away, heard his heart stop beating. Panic shackled the Force within, and my hate deserted me. This third and final betrayal extinguished my will to live. It left me with nothing, and I sank into Death's waiting embrace.

Seconded! I'd love to see Quinn and Pierce fight over her!

"For the Empire!"—Arianwin D'yer Quinn staggered to his feet, knocking over a half-empty bottle of Corellian whisky. It rolled towards me. The rhythmic clanking of glass against metal stopped when I nudged it with my foot. "Enjoying your night off, Captain?" I wondered how long Quinn had been sitting in the dark by himself. Judging by the distinct smell of whisky lingering throughout the bridge, he'd been at it for a while. "Forgive me for the intrusion, my Lord." Despite his inebriated state, Quinn remained remarkably composed. He carefully pronounced each syllable with extreme precision to keep from slurring his words. "I didn't expect to see you on board tonight." "Neither did I." An awkward silence descended. My insides twitched. Baras had granted us leave to celebrate our most recent victory against Nomen Karr. When I argued against taking time away from fighting our enemies, he'd transferred an obscene amount of credits into my account and insisted I take the time to upgrade Fury with the best the Empire had to offer. I'd finally agreed to remain docked at the Imperial Fleet for several days. At the very least, the time off had given me the opportunity to introduce Jaessa to one of life's sweetest pleasures: torturing Republic prisoners for vital military secrets. I'd been pleased to see how fast she picked up the finer points of interrogation. No doubt she was now burning her way through each prison cell with wild abandon. Woe betide to any man, woman, or alien standing in the way of my Apprentice's growing hunger. I'd intended to spend the night alone on board Fury. The bustling crowds had left me yearning for solitude, and my hands ached to test out Fury's new upgrades. I thought I had the ship to myself. After all, Vette wouldn't be back for another three days, and Quinn had supposedly taken a shuttle to meet up with an old military friend. Instead, my Captain now stood somewhat unsteadily in front of me. I inspected him from head to toe. "Is everything alright, Captain?" He flinched. A spark of anger leaped into his eyes. "Permission to speak freely." "Granted." "I wish to be reassigned." Quinn's words struck me hard. I clenched my fist, forcing myself to remain still. "And what of your promise to serve me? Do your vows mean so little to you, Captain?" "No. I—" He rubbed a hand over his face. "My Lord, I am compromised." I suddenly wanted to choke him until he fell to his knees. "Compromised by whom?" "By you!" Quinn snarled. Breathing heavily, he began to pace back and forth. "As a military man, I value discipline, the chain of command, and uncompromising dedication to serving the Empire's interest but you make my path less clear." "We share the same desire to make the most profound impact possible for the Empire. I do not see the problem." He narrowed the gap between us. Putting his face right up against mine, he gripped my arms hard enough to hurt. "Thoughts of you have begun to distract me. I find myself fighting for you instead of the Empire." I was close enough to smell the whiskey on his breath but the feverish panic in his eyes distracted me more. My Captain, if nothing else, was a profoundly reliable man. It disturbed me to see him so unhinged. Reaching out a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, I leaned in to steady him. "You've forgotten the reason why you fight this war." "Precisely, my Lord." If only Quinn understood the way to rise above this weakness was to embrace the emotions he hated to feel. My Captain needed to remember the thrill of striking fear into the heart of his enemies. He needed to remember the joy of his first kill. I wordlessly slid into the pilot's chair. Fury shuddered to life, her engines roaring as pistons fired and fuel pumped through her metallic veins. Within moments, we were airborne. Once away from the endless stream of Imperial traffic, I set Fury's engines to neutral. She hiccuped in protest but eventually subsided into a drowsy hum. I offered Quinn my hand. "Do you trust me?" Despite the uncertainty in his eyes, he took my hand. His grip was strong; the palm of his hand rough and warm against mine. I led him through Fury, stopping only when we reached the airlock. My hand tightened around his. "Whatever you do," I warned. "Don't let go." Quinn paled when he saw me initiate the decompression sequence. "Hold on," I yelled over the deafening sound of air being sucked into space. I pulled Quinn into my embrace. His arms wrapped around me, and he buried his face into my hair. Even in the middle of chaos, his strength never wavered. The noise in my head faded until the only thing I felt was him. The feel of his heart beating in time with mine touched something deep inside me. How odd to be so moved by such a simple thing. I relaxed against him and tapped into the Force, calling forth a shimmering blue bubble. I pulled at it with my will until it stretched large enough to surround us both. When it snapped into place, it sealed enough air in with us to last a while. The hatch doors hissed open. Silence. There was only silence as the noise of the living fell away. Quinn peered out into the wide expanse of space in awe. The expression on his face mesmerized me, and I suddenly realized I would do anything, be anything, to keep him safe. This man was mine, and I was his. For as long as we both lived, I would kiss death a thousand times to keep him by my side. I trembled at the knowledge that he held so much power over me. It felt wrong yet so terribly right that I dared not make a sound for fear of losing my mind. Instead, I tugged his hand and motioned for him to follow. The gravity belt around my waist kept my feet firmly planted against Fury even as we climbed our way onto her hull. "You want to know what we fight for?" I asked once we made it safely to the top. My voice sounded muffled within the confines of the bubble. Quinn looked to where I pointed. The might of the Empire lay before us, the Imperial Fleet glowing like a beacon of light. It's sheer size and multi-layered functional design was a testament to Imperial strength and ingenuity. "We fight to win." "No matter the cost." I watched as emotions flickered over his face. They weren't the ones I expected. Instead, I saw pain, regret, acceptance. Before I could question him further, he turned towards me with a renewed look of conviction in his eyes. "This is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me, my Lord." He bowed low. "You honor me." "If you still wish to be reassi—" He kissed me softly as if he cherished me. "You've set my mind at ease. I now know my place in this world." "Your place is with me." "Always." With that single word, I found myself faced with a choice. Should I choose to throw myself over the rocky precipice of ambition, all the power in the world would soon be within my grasp, and the universe would one day tremble at my feet. But tonight, sheltered in my Captain's arms, I found myself turning away from the tenets I'd followed my entire life. We Sith deal in absolutes. In a world filled with black and white, we burn in the moment, cater to our own selfish desires, and sacrifice the now for the promise of power in the future. But I knew this lingering call of the void would lead me to damnation. For if I must burn, then let me burn for him. If I must leap, then let it be into his arms. If I must become unborn, then let my conviction be grounded in the depth and breadth of this single kiss. I pulled his head towards me, craving the touch of his lips against mine. I yearned to taste him, to feel his tongue dance over my skin. I needed him to mark me the way my master had done. [Note from the author: Things get a little steamy for the rest of this chapter. If you want to keep going, I've posted the full version here.]

Woah. That's a little harsh, isn't it? I'd argue that smut is a huge part of fanfic whether or not we personally agree with it. And like everything else, there is well-written smut and badly-written ones. Haven't read OP's work but just because it's rated M shouldn't automatically prompt disparaging remarks from the SWTOR community. /shrug

I was just thinking the same thing...

"Passion unlocks power."—Arianwin D'yer I adjusted the scrap of silk covering my eyes. The world around me disappeared. A gust of wind blew through the courtyard, flowing over and around me like a lover's caress. The smell of fresh blood lingered in the air. Our troops were still cleaning up the destruction I'd left behind at House Organa. Guards chattered off to one side. The familiar roar of engines told me a shipment of weapons would be arriving soon. When the wind blew past an abandoned droid, its hollow body sung a low dirge. Something had happened to me on Tatooine. The constant wailing in my head still kept me up at night but the tortured aching had disappeared. I'd discovered I could dial down the volume of my Force sensitivity until the glare of the galaxy's vibrations lost its razor-sharp edge. Like a child taking her first steps, my awareness slowly expanded until I was seeing the world's essence for the first time. Edges wavered. Movements blurred. A leaf dropped to the ground, leaving behind rippling currents in the air. It was with this new way of seeing that I finally saw the dormant power lying within Quinn. The currents that preceded him pulsed with a beat that resonated with something inside me. My Captain moved with purpose, his long stride eating up the distance between us. When he turned the corner, it was like figuring out the answer to a riddle plaguing me for years. In a world filled with faded hues, vibrant colors swirled around his form. Their brilliance undiminished by bright waves of energy emanating from him. His essence composed of hard lines and sharp angles that somehow remained remarkably clear in a sea of fog. I knew the exact moment he saw me. The energy around him froze, and dark purples and blues began to churn beneath his surface. He who prided himself on absolute control hid a maelstrom of conflicted emotions from the rest of the world. Seeing him in this new light excited me, and I vowed he would soon surrender to those emotions. I picked up the training swords I'd brought with me. Their padded lengths felt dull in my hands. Heavy. Lifeless. "Quinn!" My voice rang through the courtyard. "Attack me." He looked at me with confusion. "Captain Malavai Quinn," I snapped. "Your superior officer orders you to attac—" He fired his blaster. I didn't have time to think. My body reacted purely on instinct. I deflected his attack, forgetting that I was holding wooden swords instead of lightsabers. Both swords shattered. Wood chips exploded into the air. By the time I realized my mistake, there was nothing I could do but brace myself for the crippling blow. Knowing Quinn, I expected nothing less than for him to shoot with intent to kill. The burst of energy from his blaster aimed straight for my heart. In the face of death, the world flickered on and off. The film that covered my eyes burned away, and I saw thousands upon thousands of energy strands swirling around me. They tore through me, burrowed inside, pulled me apart. My own edges began to blur until I flickered along with the world. My body disappeared, the tangible bits and parts of me merging with each energy strand swimming in the air Instinctively, I flowed around the rapidly approaching beam of energy so its path burned a trail through my chest without harm. My mind froze when I realized what I'd just done. The thrill of harnessing such raw power breathed life into my flesh and bones. My awareness snapped back into my body, and I re-coalesced several feet away from where I originally stood. "Is that the best you can do?" I laughed. Stalking towards Quinn, I challenged him with a growl. "Captain, how dare you underestimate me." His face tightened. In one smooth motion, he holstered his gun and waited for me to approach. I could hear his heart beating with adrenaline. The faintest quiver in his energy spoke of dread anticipation for the fight to come. Something spark to life within him. He lunged at me, knife in hand. I scoffed. He'd have to do better than that. My arm snaked around his wrist and pulled him past me. A slight twist spun him around. His own momentum caused him to stumble. "How will you defeat the Empire's enemies if you can't even beat me?" I taunted. He caught his balance and spun around to face me. His eyes blazed a brilliant blue. The air around him began to bleed red. I waited for him to try again. Quinn stabbed downward with his knife. Better. I could feel the strength in him surge against me. But not good enough. My forearm struck the crook of his elbow, and I stepped into his embrace. We stood face to face, the point of his knife inches from my eye. My lips brushed against his ear, and I breathed him in. He was sweat mingled with metallic fire and ash across a devastated landscape. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end when his energy called to me. Heat pooled at the pit of my stomach. Quinn pulled me towards him, slamming his lips against mine. My energy bucked like a wild thing. I bit him hard enough to draw blood but he refused to release me, the heat of his body demanding that I yield to him. Yes, oh yes. All coherent thought flew out of my head when he nudged my legs apart with his thigh. He gripped my wrists with one hand, restraining them against my back. The feel of him between my legs drove me crazy. Without warning, I found myself lying on the ground. His legs pinned me down. His knife pressed against my throat. "I think I found your weakness." He chuckled. Threading his fingers through my blindfold, he ripped it away. "I'm not convinced," I breathed. His eyes shone with a darkness that hadn't been there before. It mesmerized me. "We should explore your theory further just to make sure." Propping himself up on one elbow, he looked down at me. The expression on his face grew serious. "Any personal involvement between us could cloud judgement and compromise campaigns." "I like taking risks," I purred. Arching my back, I rubbed my body against his. I allowed my energy to fuse with his until he could feel me pulsate around his length. His eyes grew darker. His jaw clenched. But before I could take advantage of the way his body responded so readily to mine, my personal holocommunicator buzzed. We broke apart. The shuttered expression on Quinn's face told me our discussion was over…for now.

"Peace is a lie."—Arianwin D'yer In his lifeless eyes, I saw forgiveness. Master Yonlach’s broken body lay before me. I’d done my best to break his will but the serene look on his face told me I’d failed. I fell headfirst into a throbbing well of hatred. Before I killed him, he’d promised peace to replace the terrible rage inside me. He’d offered the gift of an empty existence free from torment, and for a moment, his Jedi mind trick stole the fire that burned inside me. I became no one. My husk of a body worthless, my will a sham, despite the power that coursed through these limbs. Anguish welled up inside me. Pain, once so familiar, ripped me apart from the inside out as if my soul wore a shroud of a thousand needles. I clawed at his stiffening body, desperately looking for answers only he could give. I stared into his unblinking gaze and imagined it was Nomen Karr’s padwan staring back. Did she breathe his last breath and feel a part of herself die when I ripped out his heart? Whatever he stole from me, I vowed to take from her. I would rip the peace out of her soul and tear out the forgiveness in her eyes. A sharp pain in my shoulder brought me back to the here and now. Yonlach was dead. Alderaan was next. My plan to lull Baras into a false sense of security was well underway. Yonlach’s lies meant nothing to me anymore. Clutching my injured arm to my side, I stumbled to my feet. A sense of urgency gripped me when I saw Quinn’s unconscious form. There were no obvious physical injuries. Whatever the Jedi had done, he’d done it to Quinn’s mind. I bent over Quinn, blanketing him with my energy. The pain came hard and fast but I clamped my lips together, refusing to scream. The bones in my arm realigned themselves. Muscle and sinew stitched back together. My awareness inspected every part of his body, looking for traces of Jedi filth. My leg burned when I absorbed an ugly gash on Quinn’s thigh. My own rib cracked when I cemented his back together. In the recesses of Quinn’s mind, I caught a whiff of an unfamiliar stench. I followed its trail until I bumped up against a dark presence. It oozed with animosity, leaving no doubt in my mind that this was Yonlach’s work. I tentatively pushed against it. Intense pain plunged its fingers into me. I screamed and threw myself back into my own body. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my torso and grimly stared at Quinn. Yonlach might be dead but the monster he’d left behind remained alive. The battle lines were drawn. The prize lay before me. Blind hatred suffused my being at the thought of admitting defeat. Despite the alarm bells clamoring in my head, I leaned forward once again. I ripped open Quinn’s shirt and placed my hand on his chest. The feeling of his heart beating against my palm was like a balm to my fear. I could do anything, be anything, as long as I had Quinn by my side. With a shout, I surged back into his mind. Pain ripped through me, shredding me into unrecognizable chunks of agony. I tore into Yonlach’s minion but my hands burned each time I struck it. The skin along my arms blistered. My fingernails cracked and peeled but I refused to stop. The thought of leaving Quinn alone in this eternal sea of darkness drove me crazy so I gave myself over to the pain. With one last cry, I tore myself into a hundred different pieces because it was easier than letting him go. The monster disappeared. Quinn jerked awake. He sat up abruptly, grasping for breath. It took a few moments before he remembered where he was. He looked at me, and his eyes softened to a pale blue. I saw gratitude and embarrassment flit across them. He gently touched my bloodied hands. “My Lord, I’m sorry I was of no use to you. I did not anticipate the Jedi’s incapacitating attack.” With alarm, I realized my touch had burned an image of my handprint onto his chest. The mark puckered and smoked when I pulled away. Quinn didn’t flinch. He pulled out a small vial of green-colored ointment from the med kit strapped to his belt. Reaching for my hands, he began to apply the cooling salve over my wounds. “I’m fine,” I protested. “You need to heal yourself.” He cleared his throat. “Allow me to perform my duty. I’m just thankful my support proved to be unnecessary.” Thanks to the salve, my wounds rapidly healed but he showed no signs of stopping, his thumbs rubbing my hands in large lazy circles. I shifted uneasily but I kept my mouth shut. It felt…good. The universe receded until there was only him and the feeling of his hands on mine. A curious stillness seeped into my soul.

LOL. Just a little bit. But you'll have to fight me for him. Grrr!

Heh. Cocopants. You'll like the next several chapters. There's a lot of Quinn in 'em.

“Yield to the power of the Force.”—Arianwin D’yer Lord Rathari’s men attacked. Adrenaline flooded through my veins. In the blink of an eye, I read the way they moved: the slight tilt of their heads, the way they grasped their weapons, the subtle shift of their shoulders. My eyes met Quinn’s. He nodded once, telling me he understood. Gripping his blaster pistol, he aimed for the nearest soldier and fired. I followed through with his attack, smashing the pommel of my lightsaber into the soldier’s skull. Bone crunched and splintered. He dropped to the ground, limbs still twitching. Three more approached. I charged into their midst, deflecting their attacks with ease. A soldier lunged at me but I evaded his grasp. I danced through the air, ripping through skin and bone. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. Quinn shouted a warning. I spun around in the nick of time to block Rathari’s downward blow. His lightsaber slammed against mine, and for a moment, we remained locked at an impasse. But my arm began to weaken. The strength of his Force overwhelmed me. I gritted my teeth, refusing to surrender. From the corner of my eye, I saw Quinn struggle against Rathari’s agent. Dellocon had him in a headlock, choking him from behind. No matter how hard Quinn fought, the agent grimly held on. Dellocon reached for his knife. A calculated look flashed across Quinn’s face. He shook out his arm, revealing one last canister of carbonized spray strapped to his wrist. He twisted around, about to turn the tables on Dellocon, when he saw my precarious situation. Without hesitation, he aimed the spray at Rathari, leaving his own throat exposed to Dellocon’s rapidly descending knife. Panic slammed into my gut. I pushed away from Rathari’s frozen form and soared through the air. My hands buried themselves deep into Dellocon’s side. The agent opened his mouth to scream but I denied him the pleasure. With a simple shrug of my shoulders, I sealed his mouth shut. Seeing the dark bruises around my Captain’s throat set flame to a deep and horrible anger inside me. Color leeched from my vision. Darkness surrounded me. I could feel Dellocon’s life begin to fade but death was too good for him. I chose instead to keep his consciousness intact as I slowly tore him in two. When his body finally grew limp, I tossed him aside. I spun around to face the slowly thawing Rathari. Quinn took his position behind me. With his blaster ready at hand, he assured me with a grim smile that he’d personally see to it that there would be no escape for anyone who opposed me. Readying my lightsaber, I counted down the seconds until the frozen shell encasing Rathari began to disintegrate. Blistering hatred crackled the air around me. Rathari broke free with a roar. He rushed at me with hate in his eyes but I knew mine was greater now. Every parry, every lunge, every attack burned him. He was fast but I moved faster. My blows rained down on him like lightning. He flinched, and I took advantage of the sudden opening. Reaching out with my hand, I wrapped tendrils of energy around his throat. I closed my fist and crushed his windpipe. Quinn walked up beside me, holstering his pistol. He rubbed a hand over his throat and winced. “I must confess I didn’t think we’d escape from Rathari’s trap unscathed.” “Yet you fought with me anyway.” I glanced over at Quinn, taking in his disheveled hair and torn jacket. I briefly wondered what my Captain would do if I offered to tear the rest of his uniform off…with my teeth. Quinn seemed surprised I would question his dedication. “I pledged to serve you. If that means sacrificing my life to further the goals of the Empire, I will gladly give it.” “You’re more useful to me alive then dead, Captain.” Quinn bowed. “I will remember that, My Lord.” I knew without a doubt that if given the choice again, he’d risked his life to save mine. Courage and conviction were all too rare these days, and my Captain had both in abundance. He would be a valuable asset in the coming war.

“Without power, my life holds no meaning.”—Arianwin D’yer Sinking into the pilot’s chair, I powered down the bright lights of the bridge with a wave of my hand. The screens in front of me dimmed until I found myself sitting in semi-darkness. Fury maintained her course orbiting the moon below. To our left, Nar Shaddaa glowed an ethereal golden color against the backdrop of space. I closed my eyes. Even from where we were, I felt the energy of its inhabitants wailing at me. The smell of alleyways mingling with the bitter taste of pollution assaulted my senses. It was easier to remember how much I loathed my life on that cursed piece of rock. I wrapped my hatred around me, burying myself into memories long forgotten until bits and pieces came back to me: biting a man’s hand after mine had been tied, selling beautifully-twisted shards of shrapnel to tourists, learning to wield my first blade. I went through every minute detail because I knew the emotions within these memories would be the only thing sustaining me tomorrow. The cacophonous cries eventually receded. I opened my eyes when I felt the reassuring hum of Fury beneath me once more. Grasping the controls, I promised Fury we’d go for a quick spin. It would just be the two of us tonight. The crew had long since retired. Despite having arrived at our destination hours ago, I’d ordered everyone to bunk onboard the ship. I needed time to prepare myself before we descended into the madness that was my birthplace. Fury shuddered as we broke free from the gravitational pull of the moon. I could feel her straining against my hands, eager to stretch her wings. “Easy,” I murmured. It was Fury who first alerted me to his presence. Her steady hum lowered in pitch just before he stepped onto the bridge. “Captain,” I greeted. The sound of his footsteps abruptly stopped when he heard my voice. I pictured him turning his head side to side trying to zero in on my location in the darkness. “You’re up late tonight.” “I hope you don’t find my appearance here intrusive.” Quinn paused. “I was in my quarters when I felt the ship steer off course.” “Did you?” I smiled down at the control in my hands. “I’ll have to take the blame for that one, Captain.” “You’re flying blind?” “Fury tells me what to do.” A lingering warmth enveloped me when he drew closer. Part of me wanted to continue what I’d started on Balmorra but Fury had lulled me into an odd frame of mind. Tomorrow suddenly seemed so far away. A comfortable silence filled the air. Quinn stood beside me, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes scanned the darkened console. “She’s a beautiful ship.” I felt Fury hum with approval. Strangely enough, I sensed Quinn felt it too. “I’ve been told you never forget your first one.” “And if I have anything to do about it, you’ll never have to.” Quinn motioned towards the co-pilot’s chair. He waited for my permission before he slid in. “She’s been responding extremely well to my optimizations. I’m pleased to report that we’re operating at peak efficiency.” I let him take over Fury’s controls while I half-listened to him rattle off a list of adjustments he’d already made to her system. I immediately felt the difference in the way she flew. Her restless movements eased as his hands moved over her. Her usual hum transformed into a low-throated whisper. I remembered the way he knelt at my feet back on Balmorra. His eyes shone with zeal. His words, low and urgent, were filled with such fervor that I’d been lost for words. “I cannot think of a more glorious and honorable way to make a difference in the galaxy than to serve you,” he’d said. “If given the chance, I know I will prove myself to you. I offer my military prowess and dedicate every ounce of my strength to your cause. I am ready and willing to serve.” When I looked at him kneeling before me, something shifted inside. For the first time, I touched upon a state of being that nearly silenced the constant blood-curdling screams that plagued my existence. It lasted for the briefest of moments but it was enough to fill me with fear. Without hatred, I had no purpose. Without power, my life held no meaning. But I learned long ago that fear led to power if I was only strong enough to endure its pain. Resting my chin on the palm of my hand, I watched him in silence. I needed to figure out this hold he had over me before it was too late. This connection between us could either propel me to greatness or tear my whole world asunder.

Correct! Arianwin D'yer is a female Sith Warrior. Duel-wielding Marauder to be exact.

“I will bring you to your knees.”—Arianwin D’yer I danced for him. My body twisted to one side. Momentum propelled me high into the air. As I flung both arms outward, I heard the hum of my lightsabers slice through bone and flesh with ease. Blood splattered the metallic walls of the factory in large swaths of vibrant red. I knew Quinn was tracking my every move from his command center. Something inside me thrilled at the thought of him watching me perform this intimate dance between hunter and hunted. Each time I struck one of our enemies down, I imagined the hardness in Quinn’s eyes giving way to excitement. I moved faster, swung harder, leaped higher. Man and machine melted away in the face of my battle lust, and I danced to the screams of the resistance force dying all around me. The rhythm of their faltering heartbeats guided my steps. Blood rained down on me like a summer’s storm—hot, wild, and free. My back arched. I clenched my thighs. Spasms of pleasure rocked through my center. I licked my lips, enjoying the taste of death against my skin. The pit of my stomach quivered as an image of Quinn flashed across my mind. I remembered how his body had responded to my presence earlier today. When I described my victory at the Republic crater outpost, I was fascinated by the way his eyes seemed to darken. His nostrils had flared at the scent of blood and smoke clinging to my hair. “It is my dream to see our enemy vanquished,” he’d confessed right before I left for the arms factory. “I’m excited by the prospect of you laying waste to the place.” My world had righted itself when I heard the tremor in his voice. The Lieutenant was just a man, and like every other man in the galaxy, he could be manipulated for pleasure’s sake. I suddenly saw him in a new light, and pure lust shot straight through me. I had stepped closer to him, breathing him in like a predator scenting her prey. “So I excite you, do I?” As I continued to storm my way through the arms factory, I remembered how Quinn had hastily retreated when he realized I’d marked him as mine with nothing more than words. My laughter rang out through the building in harmony to the screams of the dying. I would enjoy teaching him the ways of the Sith.