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The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

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Prompt: Affection

Characters: Malavai Quinn and Athra

Universe: Quick Quinn Quotes

 

The Necklace

 

 

Malavai Quinn had become an expert on dodging unwanted advances. He was never one to juggle business with pleasure and sought to make sure the two never intertwined. He had learned that lesson the hard way when a certain Moff’s daughter became a bit too clingy. After two weeks of okay intercourse and a few dinners she had wanted a marriage proposal. She was insane. He learned then never to mix business with pleasure and to never date the crazy chick or do anything else to her for that matter.

 

That’s how he landed on Balmorra and, eventually, in the employ of the warrior currently trying to worm her way into his britches: Lord Athra. He had no idea if she had a last name, he was never un-assaulted enough to bother to ask and her file was oddly blank in that regard. He had to admit, to himself and no one else thank you very much, that he was attracted to the warrior the moment he met her. She exuded power, confidence, and sexuality. Not to mention the sheer rarity of her brilliant red skin. She definitely got him thinking about his academy days.

 

It was with great reluctance that he began accepting gifts from her. Sure, he loved the military gear case she had given him and the rare hilt for his vibroknife, but he really didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about him. Their relationship needed to stay professional. No matter how many times she invaded his dreams or invaded his personal space wearing that perfume he had mentioned in passing that he liked on her. He had let that one slip and now he never smelled the end of it.

 

Athra entered the bridge at the end of his shift one evening with a small box in her hand. She handed it to him with a smile then turned and left without saying a word. Strange behavior for a woman who had done nothing, but chase him around the ship. Sometimes literally. Sometimes without clothes on. He shook the thought from his head.

 

He opened the box and found a plain gold necklace inside with a small medics logo as a charm. He pulled the necklace from the case and flipped the charm over.

 

Malavai Quinn Treasured Medic and Crew Member

 

He was touched. He put on the necklace without a second thought, placed it under his uniform jacket, and went about finishing his shift. That night his dreams were more vivid than ever. They distracted him to the point of him making a mistake during his next shift. Athra noticed it immediately and worried that he was ill. She had to be oblivious to the effect she had on him.

 

“Is everything alright, Captain?” Athra asked him gently.

 

He stiffened in his parade rest. He had fixed the mistake and hoped it would go unnoticed. Bigger fool he.

 

“Are you sick?”

 

“No, my Lord,” he said stiffly. He turned to face her. “My Lord, you have caused me some difficulty, and I’d like to confirm it was unintended.” He paused for a moment. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but some time ago it seems you expressed an interest in me beyond our professional relationship.”

 

Athra smiled at him. “I have you tossing and turning in your bunk do I?”

 

“In a manner of speaking, which is why I bring it up.” He paused and shifted his stance. “I admit you have a knack for… surprising me. I’m usually swifter on my toes. I should have immediately said that any personal involvement between us could cloud judgment and compromise your campaigns.”

 

“That’s too bad,” Athra purred. “I like taking risks.”

 

He swallowed. This was his opening. He could take it or leave it there, hanging in the wind. The necklace around his neck suddenly felt heavy. He found himself lowering his mouth to hers and kissing her gently. As quickly as it started, he pulled away, his eyes wide and confused.

 

“This… my Lord, I am drawn to you. Make no mistake, but this should not continue. It’s improper.”

 

“The impropriety is what makes it fun,” she said lowly.

 

“I’m sure it does, my Lord.” He paused and shifted his feet. “I should get back to my duties.”

 

“If you must,” Athra pouted.

 

Quinn nodded brusquely and turned to a nearby console, busying himself with the most mundane thing he could find. Athra left the bridge without further argument. He stared after her from the corner of his eye. She was dangerous. But she smelled really good. The necklace around his neck shifted against his skin as he moved about the bridge. He couldn’t let himself get distracted like this. But she smelled really good. He knew this nearly obsessive feeling well enough to know what would come of it.

 

It was the stirrings of love.

 

Damn.

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

LOL in-game dialogue.

 

Edited by irishfino
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Sisterhood Part 7

 

Minor spoiler for light side choice in False Emperor flashpoint.

 

Note:

 

 

 

 

 

When Ipha opened the bedroom door, she found Jorgan standing on the other side, his hands on the door frame and leaning forward. The way his head was bowed, she could tell he'd had his forehead against the metal.

 

“You shut me out,” he said quietly.

 

Ipha glanced behind him. Elara was nowhere in sight. “I'm sorry,” she murmured. She reached out to touch him but he pulled back from her. She dropped her hand and for the first time actively reminded herself that this wasn't real. It couldn't be real. That didn't stop the tears from wanting to come.

 

He seemed to sense her distress and abruptly changed his mind. He pulled her against him and buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing deep.

 

She held on to him, conflicted, then pulled away. “We're going back to Hutta. I have to contact Garza.”

 

“Ipha-”

 

“I have to do this. You know I have to do this.” She pleaded with him with her eyes and he finally nodded and stepped away.

 

She went the holo and programmed it for General Garza. Her lovely assistant Lieutenant Mai answered with a smile.

 

“Hello, Major. Nice to see you,” the pretty Mirialan said.

 

“I need to speak with the General please, Lieutenant,” Ipha said, skipping the greeting.

 

“I'll let her know.”

 

Ipha wasn't made to wait long. Garza appeared looking crisp and battle ready in her uniform as always. “Major. What can I do for you?” she asked pointedly.

 

“I need to return to Hutta, General.”

 

“Yes, you do,” Garza said. “Something is wrong. There is the outside, and then there is here. You'll lose it all, all that is here. Choose wisely and hold on to yourself. Permission granted.” Garza severed the connection.

 

Ipha stared and turned to look for Jorgan, but he had already gone to the bridge. What had Garza meant there was the outside and then there was here? And to hold on to herself? Numb, she headed for the bridge. “Time to go to Hutta.”

 

“Sir,” Jorgan acknowledged, and sat down.

 

 

This couldn't be easy for him. Ipha worked a computer console behind Jorgan who piloted silently. She knew this was all wrong, this world where he had found happiness with her and what was she doing? Meeting with her traitor sister to try and prove it all to be wrong. This had to be hard on him, but ever the true soldier, he followed her, had her back, made sure she knew he was there for her. He had covered for her, stood over her, pleasured her. She was the worst wife in the galaxy. This galaxy.

 

Her head was starting to hurt.

 

There wasn't much she could dig up on Brei'yu that wouldn't send out flags. And what she could find was sparse. She would be woefully unprepared for this meeting. She didn't know how much of Imperial life Brei'yu had absorbed. She'd always been the outspoken one, had had the bigger issue with non humans. Had that only gotten worse in the last 13 years?

 

Jorgan's silence was too much for her. She made her way off the bridge and to the briefing room where Forex stood, mapping out recent sightings of high profile Imperial targets.

 

“That's pretty intricate,” Ipha said by way of greeting.

 

“Indeed, sir. The Imperials may spin their web of lies and deceit, but the might of the Republic will always cut through to the truth!” Forex made another connection.

 

“Sure,” Ipha answered, distracted. “Forex, why is the center of this... uh... thing an Anomid? They are allied with the Republic. Mostly.”

 

“Truth can be shrouded. It takes the strong light of true honor to shine through murky and clouded falsehoods. The Republic is that true honor!”

 

“Listen, Forex,” Ipha said, unsure what to make of that last bit, “I'm not sure how much you've been following.”

 

“Sir! Confusion and deception strive to bring down even the mightiest of mighty soldiers. No one can be immune! Whatever Imperial trickery ails you, we will find and destroy it!” Forex waved a limb and produced one shoulder turret.

 

Yeah, bringing him along to meet Brei'yu would be disastrous. “I need this Anomid's name, Forex,” she said, tapping the holophoto. She felt guilty stooping to giving him busy work, but she didn't really want her sister to get shot. No matter what she'd muttered under her breath in the past. “Keep working til you have it for me.”

 

“Sir! For the Republic!”

 

Ipha left him alone and crossed toward the med bay. There was a whisper of sound behind her as she passed the ammunition room and then she felt a slight hand on her shoulder. “Elara?” she asked, starting to turn.

 

There was a strangled sound suddenly and instinctively she dodged to the side. What she saw she almost didn't believe. Tanno Vik stood gripping Elara's arm and twisting a dripping needle from her grasp. He swept her legs our from under her and kicked the syringe away.

 

“What the hell?” Ipha went for the fallen needle. “Elara, what is this? What were you about to do?”

 

“You can't go to Hutta, sir. You can't.” On her knees before the Weequay, Elara hung her head. “It's just a sedative. It just would have made you rest until we could figure out what to do with you. You aren't thinking clearly, sir. You're going to put a stop to everything.”

 

“I don't even understand a word coming out of your mouth, Elara!” Ipha shouted. She looked up in shock. “Vik, what are you doing here?”

 

“I been here, boss,” he answered. “Good thing too.”

 

“I thought you were on Dantooine. Jorgan said you'd gone to get medical supplies.”

 

Something passed through Vik's eyes that she couldn't even begin to understand. “Got back hours ago. My stuff's in the cargo hold. What do you want to do with her?”

 

Jorgan came down the stairs, drawn by Ipha's alarm. “What's going on?”

 

“Dorne just tried to knock me out,” Ipha said, going to him. “Vik stopped her.”

 

“Dorne?” Jorgan said sharply. The blonde woman just hung her head.

 

“She said I'm going to stop everything. What does that mean? What am I putting a stop to?” Ipha stared up at her husband, desperate for answers.

 

Jorgan shook his head. “I don't know. I'm not going to pretend to understand any of what's going on with you. But I'm here to find your answers with you.”

 

Vik crossed his arms. “Adorable, but we got rat in the trap. What do we do with her?”

 

“How close are we to Hutta?”

 

“Less than three hours.”

 

Ipha looked sadly at the dejected woman at Vik's feet. “Restrain her to the medical bed.”

 

Vik hauled Elara to her feet. “Done and done.”

 

 

Under the guise of smuggling goods, because where else other than Nal Hutta would that sort of behavior be tolerated and even celebrated, Brei'yu got leave to land on the planet. She and Ipha had chosen a sizable city far away from the Nem'ro/Fa'athra turf war. This particular stretch of bog land was owned and operated by one Hiz'ri the Hutt. Word was that Hiz'ri was female, but really, who could tell with a Hutt? Brei'yu just didn't want to cross her. Him. It.

 

She sat in the pilot's seat after shutting down her ship's systems. Closing her eyes, she pictured Adris' face. The strong line of his jaw, the mirth that danced in his eyes. He was handsome in a way that put women at ease and he used it to his advantage every chance he had. She missed him. Where ever he was, Vector was probably with him. She thought of Vector's unreadable black eyes and how much she knew of him now that he had shared the nest with her. She didn't know his face the way she knew Adris' but she wanted to. And if she was ever going to, she had to suck up her courage and get off this ship.

 

She wanted to find her way home again.

 

Out in the spaceport, Brei'yu locked her ship up tight and turned to survey the scene. Being on Hutta she would have expected to see mostly Evocaii laboring and there were a few. But strangely she mostly saw Anomids milling about. The tall pale humanoid-ish aliens wore dark clothes and rebreathers over their noses and mouths.

 

Her attention was diverted to a second ship that landed gracefully in the port. Brei'yu watched from the shelter of her ship as the ramp lowered and Ipha, trussed up in Republic armor, strode down. She was flanked by two men and as Brei'yu cautiously got closer she saw that they were both alien.

 

Ipha spotted her immediately and put up a hand to to halt. Brei'yu pulled every fiber of nonchalance she had in her body and sauntered over. The alien to Ipha's left was a Cathar male and over her right shoulder was a Weequay. Neither looked friendly.

 

Brei'yu stopped, leaving a good distance between them and gave Ipha a thorough once over. “I didn't realize the Republic Military was supplying its officers with the Beefcake Brigade,” she said easily, proud that her voice didn't shake.

 

Ipha glowered.”Did you leave your maturity back on your ship? You still have time to go get it, we'll wait here.”

 

Brei'yu crossed her arms, then let her hands fall to sides then cocked her hands on her hips. “Come on, you can't tell you me you don't feel like some primitive dragon queen flanked by studly warriors.”

 

“Brei'yu!” Ipha's cheeks colored as Vik chuckled darkly. She shook off her embarrassment. “Usually my squad is bigger than this. But Lieutenant Dorne seems to think the answer to everything is knocking me out and Forex would sooner shoot you in the face than look at you.” And Yuun was missing. Ipha's mouth pulled down. Part of the reason why she was here. “Captain Aric Jorgan,” she said gesturing to the left. “And Specialist Tanno Vik. He blows stuff up.”

 

“Handy. I'd introduce you to my people, but I woke up this morning and they were gone. So, you'll just have to miss out.”

 

Ipha frowned at the sadness in Brei'yu's voice. Someone that was missing was special to her. “Can we just put this away? We're here to find answers.”

 

Brei'yu dropped her head forward before looking up and nodding. “Yeah. I want... my people back. But I'm glad you got to keep yours.”

 

Ipha couldn't help but steal a look at Jorgan. He was sizing Brei'yu up unabashedly. He always had her back. “Where do we start?”

 

Brei'yu approached so she could lower her voice. “Look around. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?”

 

Havoc swept the room subtly and Ipha frowned. “Where are all the Evocaii?”

 

“And where did all the Anomids come from?” Jorgan finished. “I didn't think they dealt much with the Hutts.”

 

Ipha thought back to Forex's project. “This is important. I remember that the last thing I heard about the Anomid species was the splintered Schism Collective was joining the Republic.”

 

“Okay,” Brei'yu said slowly. “So what? Why are they in Hutt space?”

 

“Let me pull out my data pad with all the answers. One sec.”

 

Brei'yu put her hands up. “Hey. Just thinking out loud.”

 

“They're starting to look at us,” Vik said. He thumbed his utility belt.

 

Ipha and Brei'yu looked around to see the Anomids slowing and stopping their work, their attention on the small knot of Havoc armor. “We should go,” Brei'yu said.

 

“Right.” Ipha brought speeders down. They zipped out of the hangar and into the reeking air of Hutta.

 

<to be continued>

 

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Week of 9/28/12

Fame - Your characters all end their class stories with a lot of newfound fame. How do they deal with it? Being recognized on the street, being on the news, finding themselves mentioned all over the HoloNet - it's got to be stressful. Alternatively, what if your characters met another famous person and had to deal with being starstruck?

Bad Timing - Sometimes, the worst thing about something is when it happens. Even a good thing can end up being not-so-great if the timing is wrong. Write about a time when your character had to deal with something that just plain came at the wrong time.

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Sisterhood Part 7

“Sir! Confusion and deception strive to bring down even the mightiest of mighty soldiers. No one can be immune! Whatever Imperial trickery ails you, we will find and destroy it!” Forex waved a limb and produced one shoulder turret.

 

Yeah, bringing him along to meet Brei'yu would be disastrous.

First of all, this story is still a mystery to me (which is a very good thing! usually I figure out stuff way too fast!) and I love love love Jorgan. I love all of it, but he just makes me happy :o And Vik is so much fun. He's our Jayne, hehe. That part about Forex cracked me up! Love this story. Cant'. Wait. To. See. The. End!!!

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Sorry for sort of drive-by posting the other day.

 

First @ Morgani: I'm really curious where your story is going. Like Iamthehoyden I haven't quite figured everything out yet, and again, that's good, since I usually solve mysteries too fast.

Best guess is something to do with Vector, Killik pheromones, Brei'yu's connection to the hive and the biological one to her sister, possibly one mass hallucination brought on by Anomid experimentation, but I haven't figured out how they work in yet. Pretty sure that was Vector speaking through Garza though.

 

 

@ Selentar: This is a very agent-y mystery. Liking very much. Plus, I like Lokin and he doesn't get used much.

 

@ Irrissa: Since we're mentioning little-used characters: Torian! Also like the bit of Huttese thrown in there.

 

@ Kabeone: Doc's 'affection' on the heels of Scourge's--priceless. Both great but the juxtaposition is even better.

 

@ Earthmama and Magdalane: so very sweet.

 

@ Iamthehoyden: Love the story of Esma. I like the way you describe her as an infant--really really perceptive, but still interested in things a baby would be interested in.

 

@ Bright: Well, there so much good stuff there. The shorts, Draagh mark 3 (at least). Very fun to read.

 

As far as Varrel goes, his close colleague was the SI (Xathras, a friend's character, who's since quit playing), so he knows of at least one way to cheat death. So first stop: Interview Zash. I feel a bit weird writing for a friend who's not playing anymore, so I'm not sure how this will end up. I do know Varrel wouldn't step down from being Wrath, that's just not in his personality. But at the same time, he wants to make sure his line (the Force-sensitive part of it anyway) continues. An obvious conflict.

 

On a less serious note, I can't help but imagine a whole section of Sith self-help books: Life Extension for Dummies, How to train an Apprentice (and not get yourself killed), Ruling the Known Universe in Five Easy Steps or Take Over a Planet in Three, Anger Management: How to Maximize Your Power...

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Prompt: Bad Timing

Characters: Malavai Quinn and Athra, Essa and Vai

Universe: Quick Quinn Quotes

 

 

I always loved you... I just never showed it...

 

 

 

Counseling was going well for Quinn and Athra. Well, as well as well could go when your wife alternated between wanting to inhale your face in wonderful ways to wanting to impale your face in horrible ways. On top of that, there never seemed to be a good time to talk one-on-one without the counselor nearby. It wasn’t that she was violent or had hurt him in anyway, it was that she was as intimately frustrated as he was. Any time they occupied the same room together the air became charged with hormones. It disrupted nearby activities and was the likely cause of the odd couple Jaesa and Pierce.

 

Quinn sighed quietly. He was trying incredibly hard to resist Athra’s charms, but it was difficult with her currently kissing a pattern on his neck and jaw. He was making a concentrated effort not to throw her down on the couch and have his way with her. He sucked in an unsteady breath as she began working the buttons on his shirt.

 

“Are you alright?” Athra asked between kisses.

 

“Ah, yes,” he replied breathlessly. “Qu-quite alright, my Lord.”

 

Athra chuckled quietly and pulled back to face him. She loved making her officer blush as she tore down his natural defenses. She fiddled with the necklace around his neck and smiled. It was just one of many gifts she had showered on him in an attempt to gain his affection, but it was the only one she had seen him use on a near constant basis once she realized he still had it.

 

“What have I told you about calling me ‘my Lord’ in private?” Athra purred. She could feel his resolve slowly slipping. Just a little more pushing and she would get exactly what she wanted. What they both wanted.

 

Quinn swallowed hard. “To call you by your given name.”

 

“And what is my given name, Malavai?”

 

Quinn released a shaky breath. “Athra,” he said quietly.

 

“Very good,” she murmured.

 

With a feral grin she went back to work on tearing down his defenses. She felt his hands twitch and grip her armor a bit tighter. One more push.

 

“Malavai,” she said quietly, caressing his name gently. She could hear him grinding his teeth with effort. “Won’t you take me to the bedroom?” she purred.

 

As he tried to respond, the holoterminal in the living room beeped to life with a call. Quinn recognized the emergency frequency and was suddenly all business. Athra pouted at him as he moved her from his lap to the couch and went to the terminal to answer the call. His father’s blue image came into focus.

 

“Hello, father,” Quinn greet cordially.

 

“Malavai, there’s been an incident involving you mother,” Vai said sadly.

 

Quinn quirked a brow and waited for his father to continue. The man knew his relationship with his mother was murderous intent at best and full on matricide at worst.

 

“She has fallen ill and I fear she won’t recover,” Vai continued.

 

“I see,” Quinn said stiffly. “That’s too bad.” Honestly, he didn’t really care that she wouldn’t recover. Some part of him felt something akin to sadness with her imminent death, but a larger, angrier part wanted her to die as slowly and painfully as possible.

 

“Malavai,” his father said thickly, “come home for a while. If only to say goodbye.”

 

“I don’t need to say goodbye, father.”

 

“Your mother loves you.”

 

“She has a funny way of showing it,” Quinn spat harshly.

 

Vai sighed somberly. “Malavai, please, this isn’t the time for this.”

 

“I have no desire to come home,” Quinn said tonelessly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of something.”

 

“Malavai, please,” his father begged quietly. “I don’t want to be alone.”

 

Quinn stared up at his father’s image. His father was never an emotional man, something Malavai had strived to become, but here he was begging and pleading with his son to come home. He sighed quietly then nodded.

 

“Alright, I will come home,” he said stiffly. “I am doing this because you asked, not because that woman is dying.”

 

“She’s your mother, Malavai.”

 

“I know damn well who she is!” he said, angrily slashing the air. He took a calming breath. “I will be at the estate shortly. Have a room prepared in case I bring a guest.”

 

His father’s image nodded quietly then blipped away. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful for the interruption or curse his mother’s name until she was burned away to ash. He went back to the couch and sat down heavily. He had no desire to go to the estate, but his father, his poor father was obviously heartbroken.

 

“I’m afraid I will have to take a rain check, Athra,” he said quietly. “You are more than welcome to join me, but I will not ask it of you.”

 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Athra asked gently.

 

Quinn stood without answering and headed to his bedroom to change. He couldn’t tell her he was afraid his mother’s dying words would still label him a failure. He couldn’t tell her he was afraid of the sadness that had engulfed his father. He quickly put on his uniform. Freshly starched, delightfully stiff, and lightly armored, it was protection in more ways than one.

 

Quinn suggested they walk to the estate. It wasn’t too far, within comfortable walking distance. He would use the time to think. He hoped for some great epiphany that he knew would never come. He hated his mother with a fiery passion and he was sure she felt the same way about him. They never got along and they never would as long as he was Force-blind. As there was no way to imbue a person with the ability to manipulate the Force, his mother would always hold distaste for him in the darkest pits of her very soul. And, of course, he would return that distaste in kind whenever possible.

 

The trip to the estate was unfortunately short. He hadn’t even begun to think of his reaction to her actual death. Knowing her, she was more than likely faking for attention.

 

When they arrived, Talos greeted them at the door. He pointed Quinn to the room his family had gathered in and invited Athra to follow him. Nox could use a friend and Talos was no good at comforting her at this moment in time. The strange unknown of life and death and the delicate balancing act between the two was driving Nox insane. That damn unanswered question of whether or not Essa could rally plagued Nox until she was nothing, but a blubbering pile of crying Sith. Athra gave Talos a sad smile and followed him to Nox.

 

Quinn quietly headed to the room he knew his mother was currently haunting. It was the same room his grandfather had died in, his grandmother, his aunt, and an uncle or three. He dubbed it The Quinn Room of Death when he was younger. It also served as a room for welcoming new life into the Quinn household, but new life hadn’t been welcomed since the day he and his sister were born some thirty years ago.

 

He stepped into the room quietly and took stock of the equipment on hand. Nothing unusual, a few monitors beeping and chirping and two IVs connected to the woman in the bed. She was frightfully pale and oddly quiet. Possibly sleeping. His father stirred in the chair next to the bed, but Quinn raised a hand to halt him from rising to greet him.

 

“You came,” Vai said quietly.

 

“You asked me to,” Quinn said stiffly. He walked to the bed and started fiddling with the equipment. He examined the readouts with a critical eye, but could find nothing out of the ordinary. It seemed as if she had a rather bad cold and would be fine, but a visual inspection proved otherwise. Thick black veins stretched down her arms and up her neck. He knew those black veins and pale skin well. She had been exposed to the same poison he had on Corellia. She was too far gone to be helped now. She really was going to die. He blinked at the realization, his eyes suddenly filled with tears at the very thought of her dying. Strange.

 

“We tried everything,” his father said hoarsely from his chair.

 

“I can see that,” Quinn said tonelessly.

 

“Come sit with your mother. I need to lie down for just a moment.”

 

“Have you eaten?” Quinn asked stiffly.

 

“I’m fine,” his father murmured quietly.

 

Quinn shook his head and pulled out his medical scanner. A quick scan of his father revealed exhaustion and the beginnings of malnutrition.

 

“How long has she been like this?” Quinn asked quietly.

 

“A week now,” Vai replied. “She fell ill soon after you left.”

 

“You haven’t slept since then, have you?”

 

“No.” His father turned his blue eyes to Quinn. “I want to be here when,” he paused and swallowed, “when she goes.”

 

“I can’t say I understand, but I do know it is unhealthy and mother would be upset that you let yourself become this way. Lie down on the couch there and I will bring you something to eat.”

 

His father nodded silently. He should have called Malavai sooner, but his relationship with his mother was tense at best. As soon as his head hit the couch, he was asleep.

 

Quinn returned a short time later. His father was sleeping quietly, but his mother was now awake or, at least, her eyes were open. She turned to him and frowned. Wonderful, she was as sunny as always. He walked to the chair next to her bed and sat down stiffly. She watched his progress the entire time, her brown eyes as calculating as always.

 

“Why are you here?” Essa asked quietly.

 

“Father summoned me,” he replied tonelessly.

 

“I see.”

 

Silence stretched the room in a thin layer of tension before snapping at the sound of Essa’s voice.

 

“Malavai,” she said softly. She stretched a thin hand out to him and smiled when he cupped her smaller hand between his. She was cold. So very cold. “I’m glad you came.”

 

“That is doubtful, mother,” he said stiffly.

 

“I know I wasn’t the kindest mother. I was always hard on you. I tried, in my own way, to temper you toward the masters you would soon serve. I’m sorry I wasn’t as kind to you as a mother should be to her child, no matter his perceived defects.”

 

Quinn blinked as hot tears filled the corners of his eyes.

 

“It’s fine,” he muttered quietly.

 

“No,” she said with surprising firmness, “it was never fine. I’m so sorry, Malavai.”

 

“I should wake father.”

 

Quinn gently placed her hand back at her side and crossed the room to his sleeping father. He knew his mother’s time was short if she was suddenly revealing emotions, positive emotions to him. His father took a while to rouse, but, eventually, he rose from the couch to stand next to Essa, leaving the chair empty in case Malavai returned. He turned to leave his father when a voice stopped him.

 

“Malavai, don’t leave yet,” his mother said softly. “I have much to say.”

 

He halted his steps and turned to her. She looked so small in that bed surrounded by machines and pillows. She looked… human. He nodded and retook his seat next to her. She reached out for him again, her arm shaking with effort. He met her halfway and cupped her hand in his once more. He could feel something was different this time. She seemed calm. It unnerved him.

 

“I love you, Malavai,” Essa said quietly. “I always did.” The monitor tracking her heart rate suddenly slowed its beeping. She smiled at him warmly for the first time in years. Her mother’s love shown in her eyes one last time before she closed them and slipped away. He held her limp hand in his and stared at her.

 

“Mother?” he asked quietly. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t respond. He blinked and hot trails of freshly loosened tears traveled down his cheeks. He was never sure what his reaction would be at the death of his mother. Now that he was here, he knew. He would mourn her and mourn the love she never showed him until her final moments. The heart monitor let loose a steady beep before his father moved and turned it off. Malavai squeezed his eyes shut and brought his mother’s hand to his mouth. He laid a gentle kiss upon her knuckles and cried. If only he had made an effort to improve their relationship, maybe. Maybe… Maybe… His father placed a fortifying hand on his son’s shoulder. There was no point in dwelling on the maybes and what-could-have-beens. There was nothing to rebuild. His mother loved him and that knowledge would have to be enough.

 

Later that night, Quinn squeezed Athra to him as they spooned in bed. His mother’s passing reinforced that life was short and unpredictable. His father’s hidden misery highlighted the need to take advantage of every living moment.

 

“Athra,” he said quietly. She made an acknowledging noise and waited for him to continue. “Marry me.”

 

Athra wiggled until he released her and turned to face him with a strange smile on her lips.

 

“We’re already married,” she smiled.

 

“A recommitment then,” he murmured. “We’ll have the ceremony we should have had. Invite friends and family. Make a day of it. Do things properly this time around.”

 

“I’d like that.”

 

He smiled. “I love you, Athra.”

 

“I love you, too, Malavai,” she said sweetly.

 

“That’s the first time you’ve said that in… a while,” he said quietly.

 

“I was waiting for the right moment.”

 

His smiled broadened. “Every moment is the right moment.”

 

She smiled at him then placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

 

“I love you, Malavai.”

 

“And I, you,” he said quietly.

 

He pulled her to him, then, and lavished her with soft kisses and gentle reiterations of love. They would not reignite the passion in their relationship that night, but they did reignite their love. And that was a critical step that may have never been taken had his mother not passed away. It was the second most wonderful thing she had ever done for him. The first being her declaration of her undying mother’s love.

 

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

Sad and happy. Sappy? Sadappy? Evil? Something...

 

Anyway. I always planned for his mother to die and for her to make a deathbed confession of motherly love. I didn't plan on it being the switch that flipped Quinn and Athra's relationship back on the path of reconciliation.

 

Edited by irishfino
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LOL, coming from you Bright, I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, considering your well known feelings towards Corso.

 

Well, for good or ill, Aaron is recognizably his father's son. This is perhaps success? :)

 

Striges, re: Draahg,

All last week was "Bright can't finish a fully contextualized thought" week. Draahg 2.0 downed Colran; this was in the background, post-Hoth-ambush and pre-Corellia-confrontation, while Ruth was finishing up and departing Voss.

 

That was not a good 48 hours in her personal life. Um, at all.

 

The character (as in person) index has hit the limit of 50,000 characters (as in keyboard symbols)! I'm not really sure how to proceed from there: whether I should just dump a new post right here, have the two link to each other, and split up the listing by author, or what.

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Prompt: Bad Timing

Characters: Malavai Quinn and Athra, Essa and Vai

Universe: Quick Quinn Quotes

 

 

Counseling was going well for Quinn and Athra. Well, as well as well could go when your wife alternated between wanting to inhale your face in wonderful ways to wanting to impale your face in horrible ways.

 

 

Doublepost!

 

I am surprised and delighted at the wonderful bittersweet way this turned out, especially given that I was nearly debilitated with laughter...for longer than I really care to describe...on line two.

Edited by bright_ephemera
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The character (as in person) index has hit the limit of 50,000 characters (as in keyboard symbols)! I'm not really sure how to proceed from there: whether I should just dump a new post right here, have the two link to each other, and split up the listing by author, or what.

 

I had a dumb suggestion.

 

But first indexes or indices? I will go with indices because I know that's plural and not a verb but I'm not sure if its the right use of the plural. I can't words today.

 

Your first post in this thread is the 3rd post just after the index. You could break up your index alphabetically and list links to them in your first post... (repost your story or just post the index of the indices above your story?) That way you don't have to do any cross linking?

 

Also, since your index was superior I have not updated mine but I was considering doing one by character chronology (as in trying to put together a timeline for the stories set in the same galaxy if a general time setting was given) Would that even make sense?

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Your first post in this thread is the 3rd post just after the index. You could break up your index alphabetically and list links to them in your first post... (repost your story or just post the index of the indices above your story?) That way you don't have to do any cross linking?

 

Also, since your index was superior I have not updated mine but I was considering doing one by character chronology (as in trying to put together a timeline for the stories set in the same galaxy if a general time setting was given) Would that even make sense?

 

That's a good point about the third-post-on-this-thread thing. Transform that into "list of authors and characters, plus links to the specific lists I've made." I actually like that a lot.

 

A character-chronology listing sounds ambitious...really ambitious...but I'll gladly set mine in order and PM you the results if you decide to make one.

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Doublepost!

 

I am surprised and delighted at the wonderful bittersweet way this turned out, especially given that I was nearly debilitated with laughter...for longer than I really care to decribe...on line two.

 

:D That's my favorite part, too. I was surprised at how this turned out as well, lol. I wasn't going to use his mother as a means for Quinn and Athra to finally, finally get on the right path, but, hey, it happens. Unfortunately, this will probably happen "later" in the story. I still have to write about him meeting her dad... *snickers* Thanks for taking the time out to say something. I always look forward to your comments because you are magic. MAGIC I SAY.

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By the way, if I haven't said already, thank you so much for this Index by Character. I use it not only to reread my favorites, but also to verify stuff that I've already written (what did I name that character again?). It's been very useful! And Morgani, if you do a chronology list, let me know, I'll put my mess in order and send you the list :)
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I was considering doing one by character chronology (as in trying to put together a timeline for the stories set in the same galaxy if a general time setting was given) Would that even make sense?

 

Same here. If you'd like a chronological listing I can do that and PM the links to you. Given how many stories are here and the number of authors, a chronological listing is a great idea. It might need to be broken down further, as in an overall chronology for all of an author's stories in a universe, and a separate one by character. Though a reader could break that last one out of a main chronological index without too much trouble.

 

Thanks so much for doing the indices. It seems like a lot of work and no one ever appreciates the index.

 

@ Bright re: Draahg (SW Spoilers)

Sorry. Draahg gets resurrected (though he dies in the game) almost as often as Quinn gets killed (even though he lives). It makes me wonder what would happen to the SW universe if these points were reversed. A lot less fanfic maybe? ;)

 

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Bad Timing.

 

 

 

Broan had all but torn open his jacket, a move that Rochester would probably pay for later. He thought he had heard a button pop off, but that was hardly a concern. Deft fingers were working their way under his vest and a hot mouth was clamped onto his own. He moaned as he felt those fingers dance over the cybernetics on his stomach; the idea of those being seen - being touched - no longer made him sick. A jolt of excitement ran up his back as he was forced further onto the bench. It was a fun change to have Broan being this forward.

 

Broan pinned him to the bench, one hand on his shoulder, the other trailing lower...

 

"Ah, there you are," Rochester's heart skipped a beat and he felt Broan tense. There had always been a risk of being discovered - there were very places to go on a space ship after all - but neither of them had considered it an actual concern. "When you two are quite done, you're needed on the bridge and Broan I need to see your paper on phenomenology and the Force."

 

"Yes, my Lord."

 

"Yes mum."

 

 

 

You have my sincerest apologies. The idea popped into my head when I saw the prompt and I could not not write this. I'm a terrible person.

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Bad Timing.

 

 

 

Broan had all but torn open his jacket, a move that Rochester would probably pay for later. He thought he had heard a button pop off, but that was hardly a concern. Deft fingers were working their way under his vest and a hot mouth was clamped onto his own. He moaned as he felt those fingers dance over the cybernetics on his stomach; the idea of those being seen - being touched - no longer made him sick. A jolt of excitement ran up his back as he was forced further onto the bench. It was a fun change to have Broan being this forward.

 

Broan pinned him to the bench, one hand on his shoulder, the other trailing lower...

 

"Ah, there you are," Rochester's heart skipped a beat and he felt Broan tense. There had always been a risk of being discovered - there were very places to go on a space ship after all - but neither of them had considered it an actual concern. "When you two are quite done, you're needed on the bridge and Broan I need to see your paper on phenomenology and the Force."

 

"Yes, my Lord."

 

"Yes mum."

 

 

 

You have my sincerest apologies. The idea popped into my head when I saw the prompt and I could not not write this. I'm a terrible person.

 

Hahaaah! Your parental interruption is far funnier than mine, lol. :D

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Bad Timing.

 

 

 

"When you two are quite done, you're needed on the bridge and Broan I need to see your paper on phenomenology and the Force."

 

"Yes, my Lord."

 

"Yes mum."

 

 

 

I love that this is such a horrible killer from a very personal angle for both of them. Nicely...er, cruelly...done :D

Edited by bright_ephemera
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Yours was really sweet :) Mine's more like ***** teenagers getting reminded they have homework due in the morning and would you like some tea?

 

:D Thanks. The hilarity in yours is best summed up by you:

Mine's more like h*rny teenagers getting reminded they have homework due in the morning and would you like some tea?
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Fame

Spoilers for smuggler companion quest.

 

 

Miriah looked at Corso, straightened the suit jacket he wore, and gave him a brilliant smile. He looked good, she thought, really really good. When she told him that, she got the requisite blush before he hauled her to him and kissed her. Risha interrupted them, telling them the Senator had arrived and was waiting. Corso walked to the door and into the next room, but Risha stopped Miriah with a hand on her arm.

 

“Remember, Mir, you guys belong to each other. I didn’t always think that was a good thing, but I see that it is. Don’t let what you see out there change anything.” Miriah looked at her friend with a frown, not understanding what she meant, and followed Corso.

 

The crowd was huge and loud, and when they saw Corso, cheers went up that shook the small stage they were standing on. A couple of months ago, they had retrieved some codes from Balmorra that allowed the government of Ord Mantell to disable a probe that was disrupting all comms signals, a probe that had been left by the sepratists who’d fought there for years. It was after that mission, she thought, that Corso had gone down on one knee and proposed, and minutes later, they had married. The governor and senators from the planet had insisted on a recognition ceremony for one of their most famous sons, and thus Corso was the man of the hour.

 

Miriah grinned when he was introduced to the crowd, pride and love shining from her eyes. She thought he was pretty terrific, too, and cheered along with the crowd. Wow he really does look good, she mused. It was then that she realized how many women were in this crowd of people. She’d taken her spot to the side of the stage area, and now scanned the crowd. Who’d have thought there were so many females on this planet? She rubbed the ring on her left hand with her thumb, they hadn’t really made a huge announcement of their marriage for fear of making one of them a target for ransom. Now Miriah was wondering if that was a mistake. Judging from the looks on some of the faces here, she wasn’t the only one who thought her husband looked good.

 

Corso looked around nervously, then spotted Miriah and was able to breathe again. He hated large crowds, and disliked the way the men everywhere they went looked at his wife. This crowd, he noted, had a lot of women in it. Maybe they’re just the ones not working today or something, he thought. He stood listening to the senator’s speech, trying to get Miriah’s attention but she was scanning the audience as he had done. She glanced his way and he winked at her, his heart singing at the grin she gave him. He was lost in thoughts of her when the redheaded female who’d been standing to his right grabbed his arm. He pulled away, unsure of what she’d wanted, and gave her a look.

 

“I was trying to show you where the senator has set up for you to greet the people,” she said, batting her eyes at him. He had to do what? He sighed, if Miriah hadn’t thought it was good for them to have a positive image, he’d have been lots happier just being on the ship, in their quarters. But no, he thought, she wanted him to have the recognition he deserved? He didn’t deserve it, though, she’d done as much as he had. When he’d pointed that out to the Mantellian governor, he’d dismissed it. He stood where they told him, shook hands and smiled, the whole time wishing Miriah was standing beside him instead of this red haired woman, who was still touching him, he noticed.

 

Miriah noticed too, and tried not to. Now she understood what Risha was trying to tell her. A dose of my own medicine, she thought. How many times has Corso stood, helpless, while I schmoozed some guy into doing what I wanted? She felt slighted and a little angry, but knew that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. The redhead, on the other hand….

 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of him removing her hand from his backside, while smiling at a blonde in front of him. Okay, that’s too far, she thought, and took a few steps in their direction. Only a few minutes later, this event was over and they only had to be on the planet one night. Miriah took a deep breath and stopped, seeing Corso turn and walk to her, flushed with embarrassment.

 

“Thank the stars this is over. Never doing this stuff again, Mir, no matter how good it makes us look,” he told her. She could tell he was acutely uncomfortable with the situation and didn’t press the issue, and they walked hand in hand to the ship to change. They were meeting the rest of the crew at the Fort Garick cantina, which was pretty close to the spaceport.

 

The cantina was packed with people, many of whom had gone to the ceremony. They managed to work their way through the crowd, spotting Bow’s head above the others. Risha had already ordered for her and there were two Hutt tequilas waiting for her. She downed one quickly, and saw Corso raise his eyebrows at her. She just smiled, she wouldn’t say anything about seeing the redhead or any of the others who’d eyeballed him, just as he’d swallowed her flirting, but the alcohol was necessary. Sure doesn’t feel too good, she thought, and I wish I had done less of it. They laughed and drank, Corso’s celebrity status providing free drinks all around. Instead of downing them like water, Miriah was nursing her second drink, enjoying the lightheartedness of the crew and the feel of her husband’s hand stroking her thigh. Risha was looking a little worse for wear, and when she stood to find the refresher, Miriah stood to help her get there. They were on their way back, the music so loud Miriah couldn’t think, when she saw the redhead at their table. She reached down to charge her blaster, the whine being masked by the music. Risha was blissfully unaware, lurching toward the table. As they got close, Miriah saw the woman put her hand on Corso’s cheek, and the panic on his face as he tried to get away from her without being rude.

 

Miriah shoved her blaster into the small of the woman’s back, her voice low enough that only she and maybe Corso could hear her. “That’s my husband you’re so intent on throwing yourself at, and make no mistake, I’ve killed for less,” she growled out. The woman froze, and stood slowly, just as the butt of the blaster connected with her head. When she fell to the floor and the screams started, Miriah found herself being hauled away by two troopers, her crew trying to follow through the throng of people. They let her go outside the cantina, and Miriah stomped off.

 

She’d been gone for most of the night when Corso finally found her, standing on a cliff at Mannet Point. She was looking out at the water, the wind whipping her black hair around her face, her black leather armor hugging her body, and if she hadn’t turned her head he would have missed seeing her in the night. He approached her, but didn’t speak, unsure if she was angry at him. She said nothing for several minutes, and when she spoke, her voice was soft. “I’m sorry, Cor, if I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for making you watch all those times I flirted with marks. I never let them touch me, but you had to hear the comments and suggestions they made, and I see now how it hurts.” He said nothing, but put his arms around her, hugging her close.

 

“As long as I was the one who was going back to the ship with you, I managed. Most of the time,” was his answer. They walked slowly back to the ship.

 

“I am really proud of you, though, and I’m glad the people here recognize what you’ve done for them,” Miriah told him, her arm slung around his waist.

 

“And I’m really proud of you, darlin’, for not shooting her. I figured we’d be hiding a body tonight when I saw you with that blaster in your hand.” She hip checked him, and ran up the ramp of the ship, hearing his surprised laugh behind her.

 

We’re okay, she thought, and felt like she could breathe again.

 

 

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