So for this entry, instead of writing something new, I just made a few changes to something I already had written from a few months ago. I had to cut some parts that contradicted "Afterimages" canon, but I think what's left is decent.
4. In Which I Refurbish Old Material Because I’m Too Lazy to Write Anything New
Darth Nox loved parties.
So many people crowded together, pulsing with emotion, the lights of their lives blazing in the back of her mind. It was glorious. She stood in a corner, in the shadows, and let the sensations wash over her—sight, sound, Force. She leaned back against the wall, let her eyelids drift partway closed, and drank it in like water.
“I thought I’d find you here,” said a familiar voice from beside her.
Nox whirled around, one hand going to her lightsaber.
The speaker was, as she had expected from the voice, a short Sith Pureblood woman dressed in regal black armor. “Oh, calm down, Nox,” she said irritably.
“Darth A’tro,” Nox said coolly, inclining her head. She paused for a moment, then gave the woman an incredulous look. “Where the hell have you been?
” she all but shrieked.
The Emperor’s Wrath rolled her eyes. “That is none of your damn business.”
“You’ve been gone for more than six months!”
“Some missions take time.”
“Sure they do,” Nox said skeptically. “How did you sneak up on me, anyway? I’ve been watching the door.”
“There is a back door, you know.”
Nox smacked a hand against her forehead. “Damn! Of course there is! Some assassin I am.”
“Oh, get over yourself,” A’tro said amusedly. She looked around. “How’s the party?”
“Decent, I suppose. I’ve been to more exciting occasions. Remember last year’s Sacking party, when Lord Taodren started a duel with what’s-his-name, that friend of yours?”
“Lord Savadar,” A’tro answered. “And it wasn’t much of a duel.”
“Maybe not, but at least it was interesting.” Nox thought for a moment. “You were at the one two years ago, right? Remember when some apprentice started a riot?”
“I was there; I did not participate.” A’tro gave Nox a pointed look. “Unlike some people.”
“’Some people’ don’t consider themselves above fun
,” Nox said indignantly.
“I am the Emperor’s Wrath,” A’tro said with great dignity. “My personal amusement is secondary to the well-being of the Empire.”
“The sad thing is, I know you well enough to know that you’re not joking,” Nox muttered.
“We’re at war. Someone
has to take it seriously.”
“Yet here you are at a party.”
“I have nothing against parties.”
“You’re awfully cheerful tonight,” Nox observed abruptly.
A’tro quirked one of her forehead ridges upward in an expression equivalent to a human’s raised eyebrow. “What gave you that impression?”
,” Nox said in tones of mingled awe and horror. “And you have this strange glow around you…dark blood of the Emperor, you’re pregnant, aren’t you.”
The Wrath’s golden eyes widened. “What? No!
“No, of course not, how silly of me,” Nox said thoughtfully. “But that is a logical explanation for your absence. I won’t tell anyone, of course.”
“How you came to that conclusion is utterly beyond me.”
“I know how you Purebloods are about continuing the family lines.”
“Why does everyone assume that?” A’tro wondered. “I have a war to fight and an Empire to maintain. I don’t have time for that kind of nonsense.”
“I can see through your lies, my dear,” Nox said mildly.
“If I ever have children, which I assure you is not
going to happen, I’ll be sure to name them all after you,” A’tro said sarcastically. “I’ll have three—Paranoia, Insanity, and Delusion.”
“You left out Lethal and Stunningly Beautiful,” Nox informed her. “And trying to distract me isn’t going to work.”
A’tro sighed heavily. “Allow me to make myself perfectly clear: Did not happen. Will not. Ever. Happen.”
“Whatever you say,” Nox smirked. “Congratulations anyway.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Since this story is part of the Sunsetverse, a.k.a. the Afterimages universe, in this universe Nox's assumptions are incorrect. In another universe, however... The possibilities are infinite!