and even though he betrayed her for Darth Bobo, I am under the impression that he had no choice at all. I mean seriously, he's been with my SW since Balmorra and he sends two lame *** droids to kill her? Pfft. His heart definitely wasn't in it

especially with Vector as her father. That man, passive or not, had a leash on his daughter tighter than one would on an attack dog. It wasn't he didn't trust her or thought she was a moron, but she's his only daughter with my agent. And in my head canon, she was a pleasant and very unexpected surprise since Lokin basically told him and my agent that even though there was a chance they could breed like bunny rabbits, him being a joiner (and having some of his dna rewired) and her being Chiss, that there might be complications involving a lot of medical jargon and mixing of fluids

"Finally tracked down that Devaronian who owed me. Here's your cut." Tanno Vik casually dropped a small fortune in credits on the table next to Havoc Squad's CO and headed for the stairs to the cargo hold.

"Hey, Vik, hold on a second," Sana said, putting down the brief she was reading and getting to her feet.

"Yeah, boss?"

"First of all, we're Havoc Squad, not debt collectors, not gun runners, and not mercenaries. Got that?"

"Sure, boss, anything you say."

Sana glared at him. Vik clearly had no concerns about the moral compass of the team.

"Second, why do you insist on giving me a cut of the credits your schemes bring in?"

Vik shrugged a little, clearly not understanding the question. "I'm part of Havoc, Havoc gets a cut."

"But you could easily keep this for yourself," she persisted.

"You keep giving me a place to sleep, demolitions to blow, and we'll call it even."

Sana threw up her hands in frustration.

"It's good to be with a group again, boss. Weequay aren't made to be lone operators." He tromped down the steps, flicking C2 as he went past. Sana shook her head, grinning reluctantly as his chuckle reached her over the flurry of protests from the droid.

Vik's insistance on giving his CO a part of his ill-gotten gains even over protests was always one of those things that had me completely perplexed. So I did a little bit of digging into Weequay culture (very minor digging to be honest) and found what I believe to be the answer. Weequay are extremely clannish, to the point where they will, without thought, sacrifice themselves for the good of the clan. In many ways, they appear to be very collectivist in their thought processes. So keeping credits for himself simply would be unthinkable for a Weequay. (I think )

"The ship's through there."

Vette nodded. "You don't have to tell me twice. I think I'll take a nap, been a while since I've seen any combat." She glanced at Quinn. "Any decent combat, anyway."

Draconia walked down the deserted corridor, mind still reeling from what had transpired only moments ago, heading to her ship. She slowed her pace as Quinn's footsteps grew softer before completely going silent.

"Something else on your mind?" She turned slightly, seeing the perplexed look that had crossed his face.

Quinn's brow knitted together, which Draconia knew meant he was thinking about something very important and very hard. Draconia was about to clear her throat to catch his attention when he suddenly spoke. "Why?"

"Huh?"

He squared his shoulders and lifted his head, looking straight into Draconia's eyes. "After everything I've done, betraying you, trying to kill you, why did you choose to forgive me?"

Draconia sighed. She really didn't want to have this conversation right now, but seeing the determination in the way Quinn's shoulders were set, and his steely gaze, she felt she had no other choice. "I would have thought it was obvious," she began, crossing her arms. "We've been together since you joined my crew on Balmorra. You've seen me when I caught that nasty bug a few months ago, and you're with me on every mission I've ever had to go on. Now, why do you THINK I forgave you?"

Quinn rubbed his forehead. "I've known since the day we've met that you weren't like other Sith Lords, but I figured you were just ... eccentric."

"Well, it's my own fault, really," Draconia sighed. "I never told you about my family. It's almost impossible for me to kill anyone for the sheer enjoyment of it. My family raised me and my sisters to be kind, compassionate and merciful. The Sith didn't force me to join them, I chose to join them."

"Why?"

"Because I found the Jedi to be too full of themselves. There comes a time when one must go against their teachings to achieve an end to their means. The Jedi frown on this, the Sith don't." She fidgeted a bit where she stood, trying to decide if she should continue or not.

"That still doesn't explain all--this," he said in confusion, sweeping his arm to indicate where they currently were.

"Malavai, despite your lack luster attempt on my life," she began, ignoring his frown. "I still love you. I think I've loved you since the day I found you threatening a subordinate."

"I was breathtaking, wasn't I?" He preened in Quinn fashion.

Draconia snorted. "Oh yes." She cleared her throat. "Besides, I didn't want our child to grow up resenting me because I killed her father over a minor bump in the road."

Quinn's eyes widened. "Our...child? Are-are you saying...?"

"I didn't want to tell you here, at this moment. I was actually planning to do so when we had an actual break from Baras' demands and I could set the mood. You know, candles, dinner, the crew off the ship so it was just the two of us. Didn't work out quite how I planned though."

"When did you find out?"

"Only yesterday, when we had that stop over on Dromund Kaas for that resupply."

Before she knew what was happening, Quinn grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to his chest, placing a deep kiss on her lips. "I'm so sorry," he whispered against her lips.

She wrapped her arms around his back. "As I said before, I forgive you. But betray me again, and I will learn to live with the regret I feel for killing you...understand?"

"Yes...my love."

It was a huge shock to Quinn that Draconia, a sith lord, would completely forgive him for his treachery. Without any force choking or jettisoning out of the airlock. The majority of sith he's dealt with were all dark side. Draconia is LS V

I love that particular scene in the Sith Warrior storyline. It has been so divisive, with so many different reactions. I do like the fact that if you've romanced him, you can play the 'I thought you loved me' card against Quinn. That being said, I don't feel like Quinn's betrayal of Draconica hurt, it seems more like she was disappointed in him, but not angry. I must guess that's part of her personality: willing to forgive, but not forget.

I don't write for head-cannon versions of my characters (I just get the feeling it's getting a bit band-wagon-y after Thursday Morning Wrath), but if I did I'd explore this scene. My Sith was incredibly angry at Quinn (DS V and I took the choking option), but I still get the feeling she loves him. She just needs to be able to think about his actions without force-crushing inanimate objects before they can move on.

This is true. She's very forgiving, but she isn't likely to ever forget what he did. It did hurt somewhat, but she had SOME clue he wasn't all happy bunnies and sunshine when she first met him. She found him desirable, but she's not stupid. And yeah, she was more disappointed in him than outright pissed off. Only a fool would think he wouldn't do Darth Baras' bidding over the love of his woman. Baras=got his career going, would kill him without a single thought (look who he has you kill just to rise to power). You, he married you, your heart blinded you (more or less), and I seriously think Quinn made a 'meh' show of using his leet skills. Cause seriously, the droids he sends after you? He'd have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not know you are elite killing machine.

I've always role played my characters with head canon and such even before Thursday Morning Wrath came out. I was a fanfic writer for Harry Potter (Harry/Draco mostly) before I played SWTOR. So I had to have head canon there too. Sure I followed the books, but the only person we see the majority of personality and back story on is Harry. This game is definitely RP heavy. But like I said, I've always had head canon even before some writers out there wrote their own stuff. Look at the other stories under fanfiction. TMW isnt the ONLY story with a person's head canon

In my dreams I saw myself lying on a floor, surrounded by broken stone and twisted metal. A memory I kept trying to forget.

When the Empire sacked Coruscant, my school was destroyed. In light of all the other tragedies that happened, ours didn't seem too bad. It was Saturday, and the school was mostly empty. I remembered being upset that everyone else got to go shopping and I had to stay in with my Mirialan teacher and Neema, the only other student of my race. Mirialans believed in a strict, mentally demanding schedule for youth, and even in a mixed-species school I wasn't going to escape it.

I squinted in the darkness. We had to be buried under tons of rubble. Neema was lying next to me, facedown on the floor. Her arm was strangely twisted, and she was covered in dust from the ceiling. I rolled her over as gently as possible and put my fingers on her neck. I couldn't feel any pulse.

I felt sick, and too afraid to move, but if I wanted to get out of here I couldn't wait around to mourn Neema. I tried to stand, but a searing pain shot through my leg. Something must have fallen on it. I crawled across the floor, dragging the injured leg as best I could, until I found my teacher.

He was unconscious. Neema dying was awful, but the thought of my teacher being dead was too much to bear. My mother had been largely absent from my life, and Arkesh Mora had always treated me kindly. He was a fairly young man, strict and traditionalist, but kind in his own way. I shook him slightly. "Teacher Mora," I said, my voice hoarse from all the dust. "Teacher Mora, wake up. It's me, Ayang. Neema's dead. Wake up!"

His eyelids parted, but just barely. He hardly had the strength to look at me. "You're all right?" he asked.

"My leg's broken."

"I always knew you'd be all right." Mora sounded weak in a way I'd never heard before. This is what a dying person sounds like. "You've got to get out of here. Go someplace safe."

"I want to help you."

"I'm beyond help now." I didn't want to believe it, but I could tell just by looking at him that he had moments left to live. I was suddenly aware that my hands and knees were wet. Blood.

"We can stop the bleeding," I said. "Someone will find us soon."

"No!" He sounded to adamant that I was a little frightened. "It's too late for me. It's too late for Neema. You've got to go, be safe."

I started to cry. I was losing the only adult I could really rely on. "What am I supposed to do?"

Mora's eyes closed and his voice was barely a whisper. "Just...make sure everything I did to help you wasn't for nothing."

I met up with my mother a week after I got back from Corellia. It was the first time I'd seen her in three years. I never looked forward to her visits very much, but somehow I kept hoping that she'd changed. She never did.

She and I knelt at a low table across from one another. As usual, she was dressed in her brown robes and had her long black hair flowing over her back. No matter how horrible a person she might be, you couldn't deny that my mother was a strikingly beautiful woman. I knew she was disappointed I didn't look much like her.

"I heard about your work on Corellia," she said, pouring each of us a small cup of tea. She had a smooth, silky voice; everything about her was graceful. I felt inadequate. "You did well."

This was as close to a compliment as she'd ever give me. "Thank you."

"However." She took a sip of her tea. "The rumor is that you intend to continue as a criminal."

"I'm not a criminal," I said.

She ignored me. "You should think about how your actions reflect on me and your sister. Your name is still Cardani."

"Mom," I said, shaking my head slightly. "I killed an Imperial admiral. I won a damn medal. That's not good enough for you?" I tried to catch her gaze, but she wouldn't look at me. "Can't you just say you're proud of me, for once?"

She pressed her lips together, the only way she showed annoyance. "I would, Ayang, if I could."

I felt like I'd been slapped in the face. I knew my mother didn't love me. I knew she didn't want me. But it didn't stop me from craving her approval and her love. I'd been hoping that finally, finally, this would make her admit that I'd done something worthy of her pride. But it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

"Why do you do this?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I know I wasn't what you wanted, or expected, but I've done a lot of good. I'm a good person. Why can't you just love your daughter?"

She sipped her tea without even acknowledging what I was saying. I raised my voice, finally ready to say what I'd been holding in for twenty-three years.

"Why did you just throw me away? I've always wanted to know, Mom, and you owe me this. Why didn't you at least send me to my father?"

She slammed her hands down on the table; I'd finally gotten her to snap. She leaned close to me and hissed, "I did."

I froze, trying to turn over what she'd said in my mind. I'd grown up in a boarding school, I'd never lived anywhere else, so what could she mean? Had he sent me away too? I'd couldn't remember meeting anyone who could have been my father...until a realization washed over me like a cold sweat.

"Arkesh Mora," I said quietly. "He was my father."

My mother said nothing, but I could see in her eyes that I was right.

"Did he know?" My voice was starting to break. He couldn't have known. He would have said something.

"I never told him," she said. She looked so serene, and I hated it. It was as if she didn't realize she'd just broken her daughter's heart. She probably did realize, she just didn't care.

"How could you?" I asked, trying not to cry. "You robbed me of my chance to have a real parent. You just...stole that from me, and now I'll never have it."

"Robbed you? I gave you a gift!" My mother was starting to let emotion break through, which she did when I started calling her out. "Attachment is a disease! I freed you from that!"

"A disease? Are you out of your mind?" I couldn't believe she was defending her decision. "Children are supposed to be attached to their parents!" My mind was swimming; I could barely think straight. My father is dead, I watched him die. I felt dizzy and sick.

"I'll never forgive you," I said through clenched teeth. "Never. My children will never forgive you, and their children will never forgive you. I'll respect you, because you gave birth to me. But I swear on the graves of all our ancestors that I will never, ever forgive you."

She was staring straight ahead, and I could see fire in her eyes. I knew that she didn't care that much about me not forgiving her, but to pledge your descendants to something was serious for a Mirialan. I was cursing her, forever.

I gathered up my things. "One more thing." I stood up, enjoying the feeling of, for once in my life, being above her. I felt like I was taking the power back in our relationship. "There will never be another Cardani in your order. I swear it. I don't care how sensitive my children are. I won't let them learn that attachment to your family is a bad thing."

A look flashed across her eyes that I didn't recognize: regret? Fear? Sadness? I couldn't place it.

"I'm leaving," I said. As I opened the door, she finally spoke, and there was a hardness to her voice that I'd never heard before.

"I hope you're happy with the decisions you've made, Ayang." She still refused to look at me.

I didn't look at her. "So am I, Mom."

I waited until I closed the door before I started to cry.

Harriet giggles as Corso pours her another glass of wine, hand wobbling as his reflexes aren't what they usually are, getting wine everywhere. Bowdaar won't be happy, but right now, she doesn't care. "Corso," she says while attempting to pick up her glass, whichever one it is since right now there are four of them weaving in and out of her sight. "Have I ever told you that you're the best damn fighter in the galaxy!" She hiccups and than burps daintily, another round of giggle fits coming out.

"Captain," he replies drunkenly, taking a swig out of the bottle, he long ago stopped using his glass after the third one hit the deck and shattered. "I told you I'm always here for you. Through thick and thin, better or worse, um..."

"Richer or poorer?" She nods her head at this, remembering her vows she shared with him on her bridge. Well the vows they did properly after she joked with him that she'd keep him in jealousy and make fun of him.

"Exactly! Why, you're the best Captain and wife and woman a man like me could ever ash-ath-ask for!" He slurs, laughing along with his wife.

"That's what I love about ya, Corso, always making me feel like a woman! Not like some prized piece of nookie to be used like tissue when one has a runny nose and needs a good blowin'! Nope! Not my Corso. All strong and manly, and I still miss your Harpoon. Where did you put it anyway, huh? Did it get stuck in the side of some Rancor's butt? One day you had it, the next you were flying at those Imps like you had grown wings. It's pretty cool, actually."

Corso smirks and winks at his wife. "Had to trade it in. Where'd you think I got that ring for you?"

"Oo...you mean this sparkly thing I'm wearing. Wondered what it was." She stares at it in her drunken haze. "It's sho pretty, like...like--"

"Like ol' Sparkles," Corso finishes for her, nodding. "Yup, had to get my woman shomshing nice, yes I did. Teach those men who keep hitting on you that you're mine."

"Yup! It's why I love you, and Risha, and Akaavai, and...what's the furry one's name?"

"Bow-something or other, I think."

"Yesh! Bowdaar! I love him too!"

"Hey now! I'm the only furry one you can love!" Corso lightly shoves Harriet, accidentally shoving her to the deck.

Harriet laughs and tries valiantly to get back into her chair, but her legs just won't cooperate properly. Hmm, nice cool deck, she's tired all of a sudden.

"You don't love Guss too?" He asks, startling her out of her light doze.

"He's alright, but I'm still mad at him. I keep him around for laughs though. Gotta have a funny man..." she trails off, falling back to sleep.

Corso's eyes close, following his wife into drunken slumber, head titled back, loud snores coming from his slightly parted lips. It's okay though, Harriet is used to the noise.

***

Bowdaar walks into the mess to see his Captain and her mate passed out, wine everywhere. He sighs as he ignores the mess he knows he'll have to clean up, to lift first Corso and then Harriet, settling them in their quarters. As he goes about cleaning up his Captain's drunken mess, he decides there is no where else in the galaxy he'd rather be.

As silly as they're being, she trusts Corso to always have her back in a fight. She's fought side by side with him since Ord Mantell

Miriah looked over at Corso, who was sleeping soundly. Man, I wish I could sleep like that, she thought. This had been a particularly sleepless week. They had made multiple resupply runs to Republic bases, and the entire crew was tired. She'd gotten up at least once every night, and Corso was not even surprised anymore to find her asleep at the bridge, or in the cargo hold, when he would go looking for her.

She sighed softly, then got up and wandered to the lounge. Hmm, where did these flickering lights come from, she thought. As she got closer, she could see that the lights were artificial candles, and they were set around a beautiful silver platter of assorted chocolates. There were roses, two perfect white ones, beside a bottle of wine to the side. She caught her breath, then saw the note beside the roses.

"Happy early birthday, darling. When you've enjoyed your treats, come back to bed and wake me up, we'll continue the celebration. Love you much, Corso"

Oh, how she loved that man!

Ruth was stumbling through the woods an hour before sunrise, outside the estate of some total strangers called Cortess, because a handsome Chiss had asked her to go.

She had run into the man called Alexis at House Thul just the other day. She had known him on other planets as Darnek, but he was Imperial Intelligence; his name changed all the time. Decent guy, anyway, good in a fight. Good in bed, though that wasn’t something she expected ever to test again.

The rendezvous coordinates were in a glade less than a klick from the fence of one Cortess estate. Alexis was already there, standing by his Rattataki friend Kaliyo, who was toying with a long broad-bladed knife. Near the two agents stood a tall robed man with features on the harsh side of handsome. In the predawn light it was hard to discern more.

Alexis moved to greet them. “Glad to have your help. My lord, this is Vector Hyllus. Vector, the Sith Ruth and her XO, Captain Quinn.”

Vector didn’t feel like a Sith. Ruth regarded him warily. He bowed to her. “We are honored.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She nodded politely, then turned to Alexis. “What’s the plan?”

“Simple enough. Kaliyo goes to town on the patrols some ways around the fence, give them something to think about.”

“Should be fun,” added Kaliyo. “Wish you could be there to see it.”

Alexis resumed. “Meanwhile we cut the fence at the back of the generators. Top priority is knocking out patrol droids before they can call home. We enter the central power facility. From there Vector will release…ah.”

“We will release fingerlings, some of our smallest brethren. From within the sabotaged shields they can invade further and disable the inner, anti-humanoid defenses.”

Well, that was a pile of incomprehensible. “Are these…droids?”

Alexis opened his mouth, but Vector cut him off. “No. Killiks. We are a Killik Joiner, part of the hive mind.”

“Of Killiks. The bugs the Thuls are always going on about?”

“That’s correct. We are from the Imperial Diplomatic Service; we have Joined with the hive to facilitate relations. The fingerlings are Killiks as well. We-they - cannot breach the outer defenses on their own, but once we get them inside they will assist us with secondary defenses. From there we can reach the baroness herself, and she will answer for her crime.”

Oh, so there was an objective in all this. It was a lot to take in. “I’d love to learn more of this Joining later. For now, I think, we have some sabotage to do.”

Alexis nodded sharply. “Let’s go.”

“See you kids later,” purred Kaliyo. She loped off in one direction; Alexis and Vector headed in another.

Ruth fell in, and Quinn walked beside her. When he spoke, his voice was pitched for her ears alone. “The alien will be shredded in minutes, my lord, and their guards will be alerted to our presence. You can’t imagine we’ll break in unmolested.”

“This is Alexis’ show,” she whispered. “I trust Kaliyo to make trouble for long enough.”

“At least she was assigned a task suited to her abilities.”

*

Fence down. Droids avoided. Power plant gone haywire due to a truly disturbing swarm of thumb-sized flying insects. Ruth followed Alexis into the great house of Cortess. Confronting the nobleman and his traitor wife in the great hall: easy. Ugly. Ruth didn’t have the full background, but the sight of Baron Cortess ordering his own wife’s execution on the spot made her sick.

Alexis’ friend the Joiner spoke up almost before the traitor baroness had hit the ground. “With our assistance,” said Vector, “the terrorist funding has been stopped. Now the nest will claim its price.”

Something clicked behind them. Ruth drew her sabers but didn’t activate. Four monstrous bipeds had entered from the hallway: two legs, four arms, the body of an insect, its head antlike, its abdomen hanging behind. Killiks.

Alexis clearly hadn’t been expecting this. “We’re standing in a woman’s blood,” said the agent irritably. “Can’t this wait?”

No, thought Ruth, though she didn’t quite know what was happening. “No,” said Vector. “House Cortess will make a perfect extension of the hive. These rooms will become egg chambers and membrosia pools. The family can become Joiners.”

More Killiks filing in. What had Alexis signed up for with this Vector? Quinn was giving her a look that had the faintest shade of I told you so. His hand was on his blaster.

“House Cortess opposed the Empire and must be subdued,” said Vector. Well, he had a point there. “The nest is growing and must expand its territory.”

“I never agreed to anything like that,” said Alexis.

“You agreed to an alliance, surely?” The Joiner’s tone was quite mild. “By allowing the Killiks to absorb House Cortess, both the Empire and the nest benefit. Why would you object?”

A surprise change in terms…for mutual benefit, with the added bonus of destroying a worse-than-worthless ally. Strange people, these Killiks. She eyed the drones around her. She couldn’t feel anything from them, apart from the gentle whisper of life that all beings gave off. No emotion, or at least nothing recognizable at the surface. Ruth turned her attention to Alexis. He had the lead in Imperial interests here.

The Chiss scowled. "I won't let you absorb our ally. Would you be satisfied with allowing his people to evacuate while taking his estate?"

"You can't be serious," sputtered the baron. "I have lost enough today! I will not be ejected from my home, from - "

"The Empire will compensate you. I’m seeking a way to let you live without Joining.”

Vector nodded. "We are not pleased, but we will accept the land without the people."

"Over my dead body," yelled the baron, raising his blaster and opening fire on the nearest Killik soldier.

"Defend the baron," snapped Alexis.

The fight went thusly: Killik, Killik, fast hard-armored quick-learning four-armed Killik, Killik, Killik, over and over, with more tunneling in all the time. The small groundquake that finally sent them running for cover was a relief.

Until she turned and saw the six-legged nightmare that they had run to make room for.

“Stop this,” yelled Vector, “and they will retreat.” For the first time she and Vector had the same target. The man moved with a peculiar grace, wielding a sturdy electrostaff. He started on one of the behemoth’s legs. Ruth moved to take another. Alexis darted to a third leg and started a furious but likely doomed operation with his vibroknife. Quinn held back. His shots were slow; either something was wrong or he had to manually charge each shot longer than usual to have any effect. Sensible man.

The Killik queen’s front legs were bladed. Alexis dodged wild strikes from one while Vector danced around another. Ruth got one middle leg down, slashed and limp. The queen staggered. Vector severed a back leg at the last joint. The queen chittered and swung its head low at the nearest target, dealing a long wet-sounding slice to Alexis. The Chiss fell.

Ruth tried to distract it with a punch of raw Force power. It worked; the queen limped around and directed a slash at her. Its head was scorched with multiple blaster burns, good. Ruth fended off the beast’s attempted bite with hard saber slashes.

One of its front legs swept in, splitting down Ruth’s arm, shocking one lightsaber from her hand, slamming her whole body with pain. She scrambled back a few feet. The beast’s next swing bit deep into her stomach and flung her clear of the battle.

Ruth could only pray Vector and Quinn had it together. Um, or not; Quinn strode into her cloudy vision and shifted her to a less twisted position on the floor. He actually fumbled with a kolto pack. Bad time.

“Not me. Go. Vector.”

“Vector is unharmed,” muttered the captain.

Ruth watched, though. The Joiner was still active. Yes. Good. Alexis had managed to pull out a blaster. He was dripping blood, but firing with steely determination. Damn. Why hadn’t she brought a ranged weapon?

Somehow the queen twisted one of its last useful legs around, slamming down. Vector fell.

No. Ruth had nothing but panic and pain to work with, but she raised a hand to Force choke the monster. She shoved its head up and back; its legs started working wildly but blindly. Did bugs even breathe? She had to keep its head still.

“Quinn,” she gasped. “Vector. No time.”

The medic finally sprinted back to useful range, adrenal needle in hand.

Her will gave out only moments later and she let her head fall back. Things muddled a bit. The beast shook the floor when it finally fell. She idly wondered how many people were alive and whether any of her organs were spilling out. Things got very fuzzy for a while, and then they went dark.

*

When she woke up she didn’t have a weapon and she was numb but something was pressing on her and things might still be near. She twisted and flailed, trying to get a grip on something. Glass and water all around her. Mask on her face. Kolto tank. Safe? Maybe not. The Force slid through her addled mind like sand through a sieve. Too late.

She suppressed her panic, or tried to. A kick propelled her to the best-lit side of the tank. She peered out to see a blank white room. Well, mostly blank; a man in a white variant of Thul livery was settled at a console in one corner.

She was a little curious, but a lot drained. She decided to meditate for the time being. On fear, pain, annoyance, and quite a lot of embarrassment.

It was Alexis’ calm voice that brought her around. “Ruth.”

She opened her eyes to find the Chiss, Kaliyo the Rattataki, and their Joiner friend. In the bright light she couldn’t help but notice that Vector’s eyes were a uniform flat black. Interesting. “Hello there.”

“I’m sorry,” said Alexis.

“Just think how much worse it would’ve been without me. Weren’t you down?”

“The queen had bad aim. Shallow cut, big bruise. You got the worst of it by far.”

Kaliyo had sauntered up to the tank. She ducked to inspect Ruth’s belly and grinned. “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen on a live body.”

“Tell me she’s kidding.”

“Oh, yeah. Mostly.” Kaliyo winked and withdrew. “I’ve seen plenty worse, but you really did make out with that thing, didn’t you?”

“Cortess. The Killiks. Are things…settled?”

Vector spoke. “The Killiks will not press their claim to the Cortess estate. The baron is unharmed and quite motivated to be a good Imperial ally.”

“Not a total loss, then.”

“No,” said Alexis. “We’ve completed our mission. I’m sorry you had to pay the price for it.”

“What are friends for.” She laughed weakly at the thought. An extremely uncomfortable sensation came from her belly at that; what the hell were her painkillers doing, anyway? “I suppose that means you’ll be heading out?”

“Not just yet. We have some time, if…if there’s anything I can do, Ruth.”

“I can pipe some hard liquor into your feeding tubes,” purred Kaliyo. “It’s quite the rush, or so I hear.”

“I wish. My job here is getting some information. Finding someone. Quinn can brief you. I should leave a note, he has to be civil. That’s an order. Can I record holo notes from a kolto tank? It’ll look ridiculous.”

“The note may be needed,” said Alexis. “I doubt your hound would take my word for it.”

“He gets touchy, but I won’t tolerate him taking it out on you.” Ruth squeezed her eyes shut and let dizziness rock her for a moment. “I need to rest soon. We should talk later, all right?”

“I’ll be in touch,” said Alexis.

“Be well,” said Vector.

“Don’t get the rest of the way dead,” said Kaliyo.

“Are you three quite finished?” said Quinn from the doorway. His voice was military-grade ice.

Alexis met his gaze without turning a hair. “The mission’s done. My resources are at your disposal for any help you require while Ruth is recovering.”

“I think we’ve had more than enough of your help, agent. My lord needs rest. Please leave.”

Kaliyo smiled her wide lazy smile. “You’re cute when you think you’re being important,” she told Quinn, brushing past him as she headed out the door.

“Captain,” said Vector, very politely. The Joiner made a small correct bow and also left.

“Don’t mind him. Call me later,” Ruth told Alexis. The Chiss nodded, gave Quinn an unreadable look, and walked away.

Quinn looked Ruth over, scowling at whatever injuries she had that the tank was keeping her from curling over and seeing. “With the facilities here it’s a wonder we could salvage anything. You’ll live, my lord, and you’ll be able to fight.”

“Good. Look, about Alexis…try to be nice. He’s still a friend. And I think he can help us find what we need.” Quinn kept up that galactic-class angry stare. “Quinn, you know any mission could turn out like this.”

He met her eyes. “The ones I’ve planned didn’t.”

That fury would make him stronger, but he wouldn’t want to hear that, and it wasn’t the healthiest social dynamic. “I trust Alexis.” And to put it in terms you understand…”And in the future, if we need to use him, we use him.”

“I’m sure he’ll do the same for you.”

Lord Stion'n could not breathe. The weight crushing down on her was immense. A single, giant foot was planted firmly atop her chest. She would not consider that maybe, perhaps, attacking the creature had not been her wisest choice. Instead she clawed and pushed at the foot in an attempt to remove it. Her lightsabre had been thrown for her hand during the attack. Being pinned as she was, Lord Stion'n was unable to see her weapon. She scrabbled and heaved, using the small claws on her gauntlets to worry the beast's hide. It was to no avail: the creature simply rolled its weight around, alternately crushing at her ribs and her abdomen. If she had not been using her rage to reinforce her armour, the Sith would likely be dead.

At last she was able to turn. Flexing the muscles in her back, Stion'n was granted a small window in which she could see her lightsabre. It was not far off, simply a few feet away on the floor. It seemed the beast saw the lightsabre as well. With a disturbing amount of awareness the creature leant forward and smashed its fist into the ground. It held its clenched fist against the floor for a moment before letting out a low rumbling sound. Lord Stion'n could swear the creature was mocking her. With her anger renewed she tried desperately to wound the beast.

The smell of electrical burning filled the air. Stion'n tried to speak, but it was all she could do to gasp for air. Again there was a crack and flash of light. The beast bellowed and shifted all of its weight. Pain shot through Lord Stion'n.

Some time later she could feel herself being gently prodded and shifted. A warm, shifting bundle was propping her head up and she felt light, almost weightless. She tried to open her eyes, but they kept fluttering closed. Layers of pressure were lifted from her body. The weightlessness persisted and she felt like she was soaring.

"Lord Stion'n," The voice seemed so far very far away and so very faint. She tried to reply and all that came out was a dull wheeze. "Be still, sister." Internally Stion'n laughed. She had no sisters. Either the woman was mad or they were both dead. She certainly felt it. The weightlessness faded, being replaced with a fluffed, woolly sensation. Again she opened her eyes and, before they could close, she caught sight of gaseous purple light. She understood now what had happened.

Calls and orders rang out in the cavern. Their squad had returned, then. Revitalized but hardly reinvigorated Stion'n could now maintain herself. For the first time she was able to see her saviour. Still kneeling over her was a Twi'lek, dressed in the robes of a sorcerer, dark tattoos standing out against her blue skin. Lord Amilia's hands were aglow, evidence of her healing prowess. Stion'n tried to nod, but instead found herself only able to shake weakly. Strangely she did not feel anger or frustration. It was curious to her, to feel calm.

"My Lords, the cavern is secure. We found a nest..." The soldier fell silent for a moment, no doubt taking in the devastation of Stion'n's armour. "Ah... the beast is quite dead. We can only assume that Lord Stion'n disturbed the mother, my Lords."

"Disturbed and killed it, soldier. It was 'quite dead' when I arrived." Lord Amilia dismissed the man and returned to tending the Pureblood's wounds.

I decided to go with the idea that even though Amilia intervened with Stion'n's efforts to not die, and by doing so saved her life, that her actual assistance in this case is to maintain Stion'ns reputation. Amilia's Light V whereas Stion'n is Dark V, so their interactions will be interesting anyway. I might expand on this at some point - writing Amilia's self-sacrificing tendencies towards those she considers family versus Stoin'n's rather selfish, wounded pride could be quite fun.

Aric paused in his supply checking as his mate stomped past the door, swearing under her breath the whole time.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she stomped back with an arc welder in hand, still swearing.

"Stupid lid won't come off the *%#%#*& jar," she growled heading toward the mess hall, determination in every stomp.

"So you're going to take it off with a welder?? Damn it, woman, did it ever occur to you to ask for help?!?" he demanded, following her down the stairs.

"I am CO of Havoc Squad. I've lead troops into a ton of battles, killed more Sith Lords than I can keep track of, and saved the Republic so often I'm beginning to wonder if I should just let it fry. I should be able to open a damn jar!!"

She hit the button to light the welder and then glared at Aric when he reached around and shut it off.

"Ask."

She glared at him harder.

"The welder is overkill and you know it. Ask."

She slammed the welder down on the counter and crossed her arms. Her teeth ground against each other, "Would you open the jar for me. Please."

Aric picked up the jar and twisted it. The lid popped. Sana glared at the jar.

"Was that so hard?" he asked with a slight grin.

"Shut up."

I'm not sure where the mess hall is in the trooper ship, but if there's one thing I know about soldiers, you make sure they're fed, so I'm sure it's there somewhere.