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From Brute to Silly: the Life of Ald


irishfino

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Quinn being domm~ in the bedroom? Nice~

 

 

>.>

<.<

 

Are we surprised? Mr. Control, prime and proper, in his uniform...holding a whip of sorts....issuing orders....

 

 

*opens smut folder*

 

 

*AHEM* seriously though, it makes sense, but at the same time ewwwwwww.

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The images... ._.

MUAHAHAHAHAHAAAH!

 

:eek:

 

...I will never look at Broysc and Quinn the same way again. The mental images...cannot unsee... :jawa_redface:

 

And yet I'm laughing hysterically. :D

I am diabolical. :rak_03:

 

I have to agree on the images thing, but Quinn being domm~ in the bedroom? Nice~

Quinn just reeks of dom in the bedroom. He's so repressed and proper in public.

 

>.>

<.<

 

Are we surprised? Mr. Control, prime and proper, in his uniform...holding a whip of sorts....issuing orders....

 

 

*opens smut folder*

 

 

*AHEM* seriously though, it makes sense, but at the same time ewwwwwww.

Eeeeheheheheheheeeheeeeeeh! [coughs] [pictures Quinn with a whip] [giggles!]

 

 

Thanks for reading! Even if you later regretted it. Heeheee!

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Cross-post from SFC thread.

Subtle Shift

 

There was no defining the moment when things clicked back into place. Perhaps it was inevitable that things would come together. Perhaps there was effort involved. Perhaps it was both. The good Captain chose not to question it. They were finally in sync again after so long, no point in fussing over the tiny details.

 

“Hey, Captain Cowlick, Ald fixed dinner,” Vette announced over the com on the bridge.

 

He rolled his eyes and pressed a button to reply. “Thank you, Vette,” he said stiffly. “I will be there momentarily.”

 

The link clicked off. He finished up a few last minute calculations and sent off three missives. His duty completed for now, he headed to the conference room for dinner.

 

Ald was sitting at the head of the table. Vette sat closest to him then Pierce and Jaesa. Broonmark rounded up the other end of the table leaving Quinn three seats to choose from. Well, one seat. It seems his food was already served – how like Ald to serve his guests – and waiting for him across from Vette. He nodded politely to those gathered at the table as he took his seat. Pierce struck up a conversation about their last operation. It had been rather hairy. Three Jedi Masters and their Padawans versus the Wrath, his Apprentice, a very angry ball of murder with a sword, a wily dual-wielding Twi’lek, a bomb happy giant, and a medic with a deadly shot. Outnumbered and out-Forced, they first took care of the Padawans. Two of them went down rather easily with a few well-placed shots and concussive grenades. The last one was obviously close to becoming a full-fledged Knight. With Ald, Jaesa, and Broonmark busy fighting the three Masters, it was left to Vette, Quinn, and Pierce to take care of the last Padawan.

 

“That one went down hard, yeah?” Pierce grumbled between bites.

 

“Yeah he did,” Vette agreed. She took a long swig from her glass. “He deflected that grenade late on purpose, too.”

 

“Jedi are jerks,” Pierce chuckled.

 

“Nearly took a grenade to the face, but thanks to the good Captain here,” Vette gestured with her fork toward Quinn, “I made it out alive.”

 

“I was doing my duty,” Quinn said stiffly.

 

“Yeah, well, my booty thanks you for doing your duty,” Vette said with a grin.

 

Quinn nodded and returned his attention back to his meal. He was never one for conversation over meals. One would starve in the military if they stopped to chat. Vette tsked, but turned her attention elsewhere. He wasn’t sure when it happened or even why, but he decided not to sweat the small details. They were finally back in sync after the fallout and that meant she and Ald were on speaking terms again. And that thought pleased him more than anything else.

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A Father's Rage, A Father's Love

 

 

When the Jedi sliced his torso in an X pattern, he knew the end was near. He collapsed to one knee, his arms wrapped around himself in a bid to keep his insides where they belonged: inside. He stared up at the Jedi, his face serene. He wondered, briefly, if the Jedi was disturbed by his calm in the face of certain death. He watched the Jedi raise his sabers to finish him off then he closed his eyes.

 

“For the Empire,” he murmured quietly.

 

He heard the sabers slice through the air and then he heard something rather unexpected. It was a charging Pierce, gunning straight for the attacking Jedi. The Jedi wasn’t expecting this, no one was, and, for a brief moment, all fighting stopped as Pierce rampaged, his battle cry echoing harshly against the walls.

 

Pierce took the Jedi down and pummeled him about the head until he finally stopped moving. Four down, two to go. Pierce turned to Quinn in time to see the Captain fall to his side and stay there. He wasn’t medically inclined and the good Captain would probably tell him to go help with the remaining Jedi. He did just that, jumping into the fray, rifle drawn, bolts flying with purpose.

 

Vette looked over at Quinn from her position on the ground. He had shoved her there and covered her with his own body when that Padawan deflected a grenade toward her face. He took the brunt of the explosion, but got up to fight the Padawan off anyway. He grabbed two knives from somewhere on his person and took up a stance she had seen Ald use as his main saber form. Juyo, if she remembered correctly, which she might not considering she nearly took a grenade to the face.

 

She crawled to Quinn and moved him onto his back. He was still breathing, but only just. His face was a few shades too pale and she could see his insides. Blech.

 

“You still conscious?” she asked quietly.

 

He exhaled roughly, licked his lips, and focused his eyes on her. “Yes.”

 

“Are you in pain?”

 

“No,” he rasped. “I am going numb.”

 

“That’s – that’s probably bad, right?”

 

He tried to chuckle, but ended up coughing and gasping for breath.

 

“Don’t – don’t talk. Just… you’ll be alright,” she said anxiously.

 

“I thought dying would hurt more. It’s nice to be wrong.”

 

Vette frowned at him then busied herself with searching his person for his medical supplies. When he didn’t reprimand her for the violation upon his person, something inside her sank. She quickly found the supplies and got to work. She wouldn’t look at his face while she worked. Were his eyes closed? Was he actually in pain? She didn’t want to find out. It would distract her. Distract her from helping a man who had single-handedly ruined things between herself and Ald. He only needed to come back and be remorseful and everything was over. She shook her head. Kolto. Kolto, stiches, gauze. Reconnect this here. Focus on helping. Focus on healing. Just focus.

 

She bought him time. Much needed time. She wasn’t sure how long, but she knew one thing: he would want the mission completed no matter what. When the other two Jedi were defeated, she ran to the group and told them about Quinn. She was rather surprised to hear Pierce grumble a gruff “No man left behind” before he made his way to Quinn and picked the smaller man up. In fact, they were all rather surprised.

 

“A real soldier carries the wounded with them to keep them protected,” Pierce grunted. He told Jaesa to call for a MedEvac to arrive just as they finished with business here. “Twenty minutes tops.”

 

The rest of the group nodded in agreement then walked in unison to their objective. They met weak resistance until they came to the end of the hall. There sat a small child, pureblood, scared and shaking. Taken by the Jedi for converting. For the greater good indeed. When she spotted Ald, a fellow pureblood, she ran to him and clutched him around the knees. Ald swept the small girl into his arms then turned and exited the building.

 

“Thank you, papa,” the small girl said quietly into his shoulder.

 

“Any father would do the same, Aldra,” Ald said quietly. “Any father would do the same.”

 

 

Notes:

 

 

Ald has many in-game children. All with a name that starts with Ald (if not Aldr). Aldra was created for the sole purpose of romancing Quinn, but I've always felt a bit bad about abandoning her after I finished Quinn's romance. So, here she is! A new life!

 

I was going to post this in the SFC thread as it is inspired by the Night of the Living Prompt: Canned Responses, but I felt it went a bit more off track and added a good chunk of story for Ald.

 

Edited by irishfino
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Quinn... Your Face...

 

 

The face of Malavai Quinn was quite easy to spot by the keen observer. Daresay it was the second most common face in the Galaxy. Ald noticed it nearly everywhere they went since the man had joined his crew. He wasn’t obsessing, surely. It was just something he noticed. When he was gifted with his Fury, suddenly, the damn thing was everywhere. Surely it had been around before, he just didn’t pay much mind until he had one. The same had to hold true for the Captain. The more faces he saw with that exact same structure, the more curious he became until he could hold in his query no longer. He decided to do so at their weekly Switch Clothes and Muck About Cantinas nights.

 

They sat down at a table and ordered a couple of drinks. Cantina was slow tonight, but sure to pick up. Could lead to shenanigans. Perhaps not.

 

“Captain,” Ald started quietly. Quinn didn’t respond right away, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Captain, I have a question for you.”

 

To his credit, the Captain kept his face mostly blank. Were it not for a small twitch by his eyebrow, his utter dread at being asked personal questions may very well have stayed hidden. He shifted in his seat a tad then inclined his head. I am ready, was the signal though the sentiment did not reach his mind.

 

“I’ve noticed your face is quite common in the Galaxy. Any reason for that?” Ald asked.

 

“Is it? I’ve never noticed,” the Captain replied a little too quickly.

 

“No need to lie. What are you trying to hide?” Ald teased. “Do you have magnificent prowess in the bedroom? Are you secretly a stud, a ladies man, perhaps?”

 

The Captain face-palmed then straightened and stared at Ald with his best blank face. “There is a repository that holds certain genetic materials for those wishing to create a superior specimen of Imperial,” he replied stiffly.

 

“You donated your sp-” Quinn’s suddenly harsh look made Ald stop and edit himself. “-genetic material to a bank!?” Ald finished incredulously.

 

“Yes.”

 

The good Captain took a long, heavy drag of his drink. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the Galaxy to get rid of this weird feeling roiling in his gut.

 

“Did you need the money?” Ald asked seriously. “I hear officers don’t make much when they first start.”

 

The Captain gaped at him for a moment. Definitely not enough alcohol. He set down his drink and steepled his fingers on the table.

 

“While it is true officer stipends are frightfully inadequate during the beginning of their career, that was never my reasoning for it. It was asked of me and I did so,” the Captain said stiffly.

 

“Ever run into one of the – uh – results?”

 

“I’ve seen a few familiar faces, but I have never encountered a child created by those means, no.”

 

“That implies you found one made the normal way,” Ald said smartly.

 

Quinn sighed and picked up his drink. In two pitifully small gulps, he finished the drink. He summoned the droid for more and down another one and a half before breaking the stretching silence.

 

“I have a son,” Quinn said at last.

 

“Really?” asked Ald.

 

“Yes.”

 

“How often do you see him?”

 

“Often enough!” Quinn snapped.

 

“Sore subject?” Ald asked gently.

 

“Yes,” was the gruff reply.

 

Ald changed the subject and was able to draw the Captain into a debate about the worth of Huttball. Their conversation went late into the night with a few topic changes. The Captain was definitely a bit more relaxed with a few drinks in him, but he was still on high alert. It was an interesting balancing act to witness first hand.

 

 

Notes:

 

 

Quinn's face [which is number two in the character creation screen] is everywhere. He's a quest giver for the Jedi/Consular on Tython! He's Captain Winborn on Coruscant! He's Lt. Quisun on Balmorra! Captain Golah on Tatooine! Another guy on Tatooine! Some guy on Quesh in an instance! He's everywhere.

 

You can't escape.

 

From his faaace.

 

Edited by irishfino
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The Ledger

 

 

Ald had made dinner once again. It was becoming habit and it was nice to sit down and talk with his people, even if his people included a smart-mouthed Twi’lek and a starched and proper officer.

 

“My Lord, I’ve been looking over our finances lately,” Quinn started stiffly.

 

“Yes?” Ald asked.

 

“You spend an inordinate amount of money on removing modifications from your armor. I feel that is an unnecessary expenditure.”

 

Vette laughed then tried to cover it up with a cough then decided that laughing was far easier and settled on laughing. Quinn sneered at her briefly.

 

“I like wearing a certain style of armor, Captain,” said Ald.

 

“That is all well and good my Lord, but you are burning through cash quite quickly. You’ve started picking up missions from the randoms we encounter just for the money. It isn't healthy my Lord. We need to balance the budget, starting with your penchant for customizing a certain set of armor.”

 

“This armor was given to me by my first master,” Ald said quietly.

 

“Sentimental value aside, taking out the modifications to put them in your Imperial uniform when we head to the Cantina - to ‘troll the locals’ I believe was the phrase - it costs money. And then you take them out again and replace them. Leaving wear and tear aside, this is expensive. Unless you would like to cut a few cooked meals from the roster, I cannot find another way to fund our main objective,” Quinn said stiffly.

 

“How many meals?”

 

“All of them. We’d be eating nothing, but ration bars and drinking nothing, but water. We do need to fuel and maintain the starship, my Lord. These modification costs will ruin us.”

 

Ald slouched in his seat and pouted, but Quinn’s face was completely impassive.

 

“Fine,” Ald said reluctantly.

 

“Very good, my Lord. As it is, I do have a bit of personal funds saved up. We could purchase new modifications for your Imperial uniform, ones you won’t need to remove ever again,” Quinn said helpfully.

 

Ald perked up and grinned. He knew the stiff bastard loved their Cantina nights.

 

“I trust you to handle this matter, Captain,” Ald said, taking a judicious bite of food.

 

“Actually, I was going to have Vette balance the budget,” Quinn said evenly.

 

Ald nearly choked. Vette did choke. Ald reached over and slapped her back a few times.

 

“What?” Vette asked hoarsely.

 

“Kidding, of course,” Quinn said blandly.

 

“Of course,” Vette said, rolling her eyes.

 

Ald shook his head. “I have complete confidence you will handle this accordingly, Captain.”

 

“Your confidence is not misplaced, my Lord.”

 

Ald shook his head again and took a swig from his drink. Someone would die at Quinn’s hands if he continued joking like that.

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Dang it! I read this one in one sitting. I meant to ration this out since there seems to be a dearth of sexy awesome Quinn installments.

 

Please, for Christmas can we have new material for all of the Quinns? And I'm not just begging Irishfino, I'm also begging Bright_Ephemera and Adwynyth!

 

I'm open to suggestions for other authors to try too...

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“You spend an inordinate amount of money on removing modifications from your armor. I feel that is an unnecessary expenditure.”

 

Ahahahaha! Evil mod removal costs!

Freakin' cash sinks, man. They bankrupt us all.

 

Dang it! I read this one in one sitting. I meant to ration this out since there seems to be a dearth of sexy awesome Quinn installments.

 

Please, for Christmas can we have new material for all of the Quinns? And I'm not just begging Irishfino, I'm also begging Bright_Ephemera and Adwynyth!

 

I'm open to suggestions for other authors to try too...

I've been working on the next installment to NSP lately, so a delicious dose of Quinn shall be coming soon. Om nom Quinn.

 

 

Thanks for reading everyone!

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Some how missed this! Cross-post!

 

 

Cooking on the Fury

 

 

“This is perfectly adequate, my Lord,” Quinn answered stiffly.

 

“A ration bar may be adequate, but it is not flavorful, Captain,” Aldrdinar replied lightly. “Come, I have made enough for all of us to eat.”

 

Aldrdinar left the bridge without another word. Quinn didn’t bother to stare after him, he was too busy staring at the half-eaten bar in his hand. His stomach rumbled in protest. It had had quite enough of the ration bars for now, especially with that tantalizing scent of meat and roughage wafting through the air. He folded the foil over the remaining bits of ration bar and pocketed it. If Aldrdinar was offering him dinner then it would be more than appropriate to take the time out of his work schedule to eat. If he worked what Aldrdinar had said enough, it could be an order. Yes, an order to go eat dinner.

 

He entered the conference room and was greeted by the sights and smells of food and company. Vette inched her chair a tad closer to Aldridinar, but the Sith either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Not that it mattered to Quinn, but it was amusing to see the Twi’lek try to edge him out of the loop. He hadn’t been part of the crew long, but even he could see the admiration in Vette’s eyes whenever Aldrdinar was around or even mentioned in conversation. He shook his head slightly and took the seat to the left of Aldrdinar. Perhaps he had purposely sat in the middle of the table to accommodate them both or perhaps it was habit. Either way, it eliminated the fighting between Quinn and Vette if they sat near each other for far too long. Unfortunately, five seconds was often far too long. Quinn moved to serve himself, only to have Aldrdinar take over and serve him up a plate of roast and potatoes.

 

“I can serve myself, my Lord,” Quinn groused.

 

“I’m sure you can, Captain, but I prefer to serve my guests. It’s called manners,” Aldrdinar said lightly.

 

Vette snickered quietly on the other side of Aldrdinar, but Quinn paid her no mind. His stomach was too busy begging him to eat the food in front of him. He obliged its grumbling growl. He cut a bite sized chunk and put it into his mouth. It very nearly melted under the gentle pressure of his mouth closing. He made a pleased noise in the back of his throat. Lightly seasoned, tender, moist. Delicious.

 

“I take it you’re enjoying the meal,” Aldrdinar chuckled.

 

Quinn swallowed his bite and replied, “This is astounding, my Lord. You made this yourself?”

 

“Yes, I did. It’s a recipe my Master, Lord Inusitus, passed down to me. He said it was good for a warrior to know how to make a satisfying and delicious meal while out in the field furthering the Empire’s goals.”

 

“Sound advice if you have the time and materials.”

 

“That is true, which is why I always carry a small pouch of spices on me.”

 

“Interesting.”

 

Aldrdinar nodded and smiled at Quinn. The normally stiff officer was a bit more relaxed with a hot meal in his stomach. He’d have to cook more often, perhaps the officer would loosen up further. An insistent tug on his arm turned his attention to Vette, but the officer was never far from his mind. Not when he was this close. Not when he was enjoying Ald’s meat.

 

Oh, stars.

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Cross-post!

 

Quinn on Vette

 

What an annoying creature. She called herself a free Twi’lek, and, yet, here she was, indentured to a Sith Apprentice. And she talked. Non-stop. Just talked. She didn’t even make sense half the time. Chatting. Chattering. Noises. It was all noise. As soon as he joined the crew, she made it clear she didn’t do “domestic duties.” He handed her a mop and broom and told her that she did, in fact, do domestic duties. He knew that wasn’t what she meant, but she needed put in her place: beneath him, but not – dammit. She was back, pestering, poking, prodding, trying to distract.

 

Note to Self: when the time comes, kill the Twi’lek first.

 

 

Vette on Quinn

 

He was kind of cute, in an overly stiff, utterly Imperial, total a*s hat kind of way. It would be fun to annoy him.

 

And annoy him she did.

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'Nother cross post!

 

 

The Little Things

 

 

 

It had been a week since he had nearly been sliced into quarters by that Padawan from their rescue mission. A liberal application of a kolto tank and a favor called in to a Sith healer had him nearly at one hundred percent. But nearly one-hundred percent was not one hundred percent and he felt it in every muscle, every tendon, every nerve as he moved. His chest was still tight, new skin, new muscle. Hard to breathe the way he was used to. He would adjust. He always did. He pressed his fingers into his side. There was no pain, this time, but it would return. It always did. He finally found enough downtime to research possible causes, what sort of chemicals were used, if it was some sort of disease, man-made or otherwise. He started with Balmorra first, the most obvious place to find information on whatever this was. Information on necrotizing biological weaponry being used by the Resistance matched well with what he was suffering from, but so few survived exposure it was hard to find information on whether or not it was a recurring issue. The few who had survived were in no condition to speak. He sighed and sat back in his chair. He wasn’t coming up with much and with his body still on the mend he was already tired. It had only been sixteen hours of non-stop research. He hadn’t even taken a break to use the refresher. He decided now was as good as time as any to meet his most basic needs.

 

Aldra greeted him as he left the refresher.

 

“Pardon me,” he said quietly as he edged around her.

 

“Wait,” her little voice squeaked.

 

He stopped and turned toward her. She fidgeted under his blank stare. He noticed and immediately shifted to his kid face and dropped to his haunches.

 

“Did you need something?” he asked gently.

 

“I – I – thank you,” she murmured. “For – for helping dad come get me.”

 

A genuine smile spread across his features. “You are most welcome, Aldra.”

 

She smiled when his smile appeared. “Are you a dad, too?”

 

His smile dropped a little. “I am, yes.”

 

“Are you with my dad?”

 

“I am the Captain of the ship.”

 

“I know that, but are you two together?”

 

He stared at her for a long moment then shook his head. “No, we are not.”

 

“Really?” Aldra asked with an arched brow ridge. “He seemed really worried about you. Even brought in Aldria to heal you.”

 

“Your father considers me a valuable asset to his chosen team,” he said stiffly. His smile was completely gone as he said, “That is all, Aldra.”

 

The little girl squinted at him for a moment as if focusing really hard on some unseen problem then nodded sagely.

 

“I came to get you for dinner,” Aldra said with a smile. Something mischievous sparked in those golden eyes.

 

He nodded to her and stood. As he turned to walk to the conference room, the little girl snatched his hand. He allowed her to lead them to the conference. He wasn’t going to fight a child, especially not Ald’s child, on something so simple as hand holding, but it made him uncomfortable. He didn’t mind children, but her small hand in his made him think of his son. He would be eleven soon. He wasn’t much older than Aldra, about four years if he remembered correctly. Which he did. Exactly four years then. Four years, three months, six days if he wanted to be exactly exact. Which he did.

 

When they entered the conference room, the seating had been rearranged slightly, Quinn was now moved down a spot with Aldra taking his usual seat. It didn’t bother him at all. The girl needed to spend time with her father and now was the best time as, after finalizing everything, she would be moving to Korriban. As Aldra lead him to his seat, he wondered if she would encounter Julien there. His son. His Force blessed son. Perhaps he would be able to get a letter through to him at the Academy. With the Wrath on his side, at least one could get through, right? At least one. But, the question remained, was the Wrath on his side?

 

He sat down and glanced at Ald. Ald’s face remained impassive. He studied the Captain with an all too familiar blank stare. Not so much as a greeting or a smile. Even his plate remained unserved.

 

“Aldra, we have another guest,” Ald said with a smile.

 

“Yes, papa!” Aldra beamed.

 

She grabbed a plate, stood on the seat of the chair, and served Quinn his meal. He couldn’t help, but smile with wonder and amusement at her antics. And Ald. Quinn felt a chuckle bubble in his throat when he turned his eyes to Ald and was met with the smile of a proud and happy father. The chuckle died quickly as did the smile on his face. He missed his son.

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Third time's another cross-post!

 

 

Loyalty to the Son

Betrayal to the Sith

 

 

He didn’t want to talk about this. He really, really didn’t want to talk about this. Ald was insistent, however, but this conversation could only end badly. Was it curiosity? The fact that nothing had actually been solved by Ald’s forgiveness and his leaving? Ald didn’t want to have this conversation in the Conference Room. Too many good memories there. Ald decided to have the conversation in his bedroom. This could end one of two ways: they came to furious blows or furious f– focus.

 

“We’ve never had a serious discussion over what happened,” Ald said quietly. “Given the circumstances and the things that have come about because of your betrayal, I felt we should discuss the matter. Fully.”

 

“I don’t think this is the best place for this conversation, my Lord,” Quinn replied stiffly. Really, there was no right place for this conversation, but the bedroom certainly was low on the list of The Right Place to Talk About Stabbing People in the Back.

 

“You don’t get to decide that.”

 

“I noticed.”

 

“Then talk, tell me why you went along with it. I think I deserve that much.”

 

“I’m not yet fully healed, my Lord, and Aldra is still on the ship. Perhaps there’s a better time-”

 

“Talk!” Ald shouted.

 

Quinn jumped slightly. He had only seen Ald angry in battle. If he was this worked up already… it did not bode well for his physical health. He shifted his weight from foot to foot before clasping his hands behind his back. He wasn’t standing at parade rest, but he was awfully close.

 

“You said before this was a matter of pride, that this wasn’t personal, but it was. You tried to kill me on Baras’ order because he saved your career, because he revived your career,” Ald said matter-of-factly.

 

“That was part of it,” Quinn said quietly. “I admit, I took what I thought was a sure thing. I picked my career over my… feelings. You have to understand, my Lord, I was on Balmorra for ten years. Every avenue of advancement, of reassignment, of actual usefulness to the Empire was blocked off quite thoroughly. I was black listed and it’s likely my name was added to an auto-reject list when I submitted my requests for testing into high positions within the military.”

 

“You didn’t have faith in me then,” Ald said. “You sided with Baras because you thought I was going to be defeated by him.”

 

“I had seen him in action, my Lord. He had decades of experience on you and a very large powerbase. I was a pawn in his schemes and I accepted this for the chance to get off Balmorra, to restart my career and get back to the station I deserved.” Quinn shifted out of his stance and let his arms hang at his sides. “Balmorra signaled the end of many things for me. Baras offered me the chance to change parts of my past and no one was going to get in my way. Not even you.”

 

“You’re pathetic,” Ald spat angrily.

 

“Yes,” Quinn said numbly. “I am pathetic and selfish and to be pitied. I am a terrible person undeserving of trust and yet here I am, in your bedroom, laying out why I did what I did.” Quinn made a slashing motion with one of his arms. “At least I realize how pathetic I am. At least I’m not trying to justify letting a person rejoin my crew after doing what I did to them. At least I didn’t destroy a friendship and break someone’s heart to let in a person who –”

 

Quinn didn’t have time to react to Ald’s quick punch. Ald caught Quinn just under his chin. His head snapped to the side and he stumbled briefly to regain his balance. It was enough of an opening to allow Ald to punch him in the stomach. He doubled over and charged forward, tackling Ald through coughs and pain. The pair rolled on the floor, swinging and kicking and head butting until they were out of breath and exhausted and hurting and mentally drained. Ald sat on Quinn’s torso and waited for the man to catch his breath before hitting him in the face again.

 

“Stop,” Quinn panted as he struggled for breath. “I yield.”

 

“You should have yielded on the Transponder Station!” Ald huffed angrily.

 

“I couldn’t.”

 

“Why?”

 

“My son,” Quinn said quietly. “Baras said-” Quinn shifted and grunted, trying to find a comfortable spot for his chest to expand. Ald didn’t move. “- said he could get me an audience with him.”

 

“He used your son to manipulate you?” Ald asked incredulously.

 

“Is it any surprise?”

 

“I suppose not.”

 

“Balmorra… I wanted off that planet, no matter the cost. I had lost so much there. I was resigned to waiting until Broysc died when Baras made his offer. I couldn’t – ah –” Quinn shifted again. This time Ald moved to one side and sat on the floor. Quinn was quick to sit up. “I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He’s my son.”

 

“You should have said something.”

 

“I couldn’t risk it."

 

“Would you like to see him?” Ald asked quietly.

 

“Of course I do,” Quinn said sadly. “I don’t have access to Korriban, however.”

 

“It’s a good thing you know the Wrath, then, isn’t it?”

 

“I…” Quinn trailed off and looked at a far wall that was suddenly far, far more interesting than anything else happening in the room.

 

“You’re too proud to ask or perhaps you fear I will say no even though I am offering,” Ald said quietly.

 

“It’s fear,” Quinn said honestly.

 

“We will arrive at Korriban in fifteen hours. Prepare yourself, Captain.”

 

“Yes, my Lord.”

 

It was time.

Edited by irishfino
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