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Lodestone: A Wynston/Ruth Alternate Universe


bright_ephemera

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I'm sorry I haven't been commenting! I have been consuming with a variety of expressions from happy to horrified. I like this first use of the disguise generator and it not quite working. I also like the peek at Wynston's vanity. Poor guy, he already had the alien-freak low self esteem. *hugs Wynston*

 

I love this AU!

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I've wondered about the state of reconstructive surgery in this universe. Are scars just this common because it's some kind of fashion statement? Or are we truly unable to fix them because reasons? (This is Star Wars, I wouldn't be surprised.) I'm kind of rolling with 'it would be a lot of expense for an imperfect job because reasons.'

 

L + 3 years 2 months

 

 

 

The Emperor called, and Ruth answered. She went to his fortress in the blackness of deep space. He burst into her mind, her memories, pawed through it at will, withdrew. He gave her a name and a location. She went out and made the kill.

 

She felt a little better once the job was done. The world got a little more vivid. She still felt dirty.

 

She tried not to go running to Wynston with everything. The man was busy, and he was busy doing important things. But she couldn't shake the chill that had come over her in the Emperor's fortress, and so she activated her holo and called.

 

It was Vector who appeared, crisp in his usual semiformal wear. "Wrath," he said with a welcoming smile.

 

Ruth blinked. "Vector."

 

"Wynston had his holo forward to me. He is currently on a delicate assignment in the field."

 

"I see. Do you know when he'll be back?"

 

"The current estimate is one week, but you understand that these matters may change unexpectedly."

 

"Of course."

 

"If there's anything we can do, Wrath…"

 

"Ruth, Vector. Ruth. Just wish him luck for me, all right?"

 

"We'll do that." He smiled. "Give our regards to your family."

 

"'Family,' hmm?" A grandiose word. "Is that including Vette or not?"

 

He was a master, not of the straight face, but of the small ambiguous smile. "We will leave that to your discretion."

 

"Excellent. I'll go tell her you said hello to everyone but her."

 

"By all convention that sort of slander is your prerogative," he said unflappably, "but…"

 

"Fine, I'll be nice. Just…just tell Wynston good luck for me, and take care of yourself, all right?"

 

"We will. Take care, Ruth."

 

She hung up and went to watch Colrand in the nursery. He yelled an inarticulate upset something at her approach and threw a couple of toys at her, but she stayed put, and in time he returned to normal play.

 

 

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L + 3 years 8 months

 

 

 

He met her on an unremarkable semiaquatic planet for a mission that could use a respected and potentially ultradeadly diplomat. Sometimes these days he caught himself making excuses to set these missions up.

 

She was good. She was passionate. They could set things in order together, by diplomacy if possible and swift strictly bounded violence if necessary, and she had started growing out her hair, her light brown locks still short enough to slip the hair tie and blow free at odd moments, which absolutely wasn't the point.

 

He wasn't in her everyday life, nor she in his. He stopped by Dromund Kaas when he could. Colrand seemed to grow by leaps and bounds when he wasn't looking; the child had graduated from hitting him at every opportunity to attempting to climb him at every opportunity, then hitting him again once it became clear that Wynston was unscaleable. Wynston felt unreasonably attached to the little one, Quinn-face and all. But these visits were brief. The rest of the time Wynston was changing names and faces, sneaking here and there to do any and every job he could execute on his own.

 

This time it could reasonably be argued that he needed the backup, and so Ruth came with him to a great shining complex on the shore of a broad green sea. He had information and the protection of his holographic disguise. Ruth had Sith authority. She came perilously close to losing her temper at the Sith experimenter who fancied himself a scientist when she heard what he was up to…but the situation was resolved to almost everyone's satisfaction.

 

After he finished the supper offered by a profusely apologetic and highly cooperative host, Wynston was ready to leave. A holocall stopped him short, prompted him to find a little balcony where he could close the door behind him and answer in relative privacy.

 

"Keeper," he greeted the figure that came up. "What can I do for you?"

 

"Cipher." He doubted she would ever get out of the habit of calling him that. "I've had some news."

 

"Nothing bad, I hope?"

 

"You know that a significant quantity of records were damaged, filed erroneously, or never filed at all during the upheaval around the battle for Corellia. We've been working through certain matters of record from Lord Razer's time in power." Wynston nodded acknowledgment. That had been the mad Kaleesh who had briefly commanded a military unit with embedded Intelligence recruits. "We've located and correctly identified several sets of remains…including those of Watcher Three."

 

"I see." Not a surprise, this long after his disappearance. It wouldn't have been a surprise the moment it happened, not with a master such as Razer had been. "He deserved better than that."

 

She nodded. "We can close that file now, but…I wanted you to know."

 

"Thank you."

 

Wynston pocketed his holo and turned his gaze back out over the water to the gleaming ranks of towers and arches standing against the tide. It wasn't a surprise, but Wynston had still hoped the youth had somehow survived. There was so much more work left to do, and Watcher Three, Watcher Ordinary Guy who wasn't bred, just discovered, for this work, was the kind who would do the right thing for its own sake.

 

He didn't hear Ruth until she was just a couple of steps behind him. She came up beside and rested her hands on the railing. "Bad news?" she said quietly.

 

"An old comrade who disappeared some time ago. They've confirmed his death." Wynston watched the waves breaking against the walls. "He was one of the good ones."

 

"I'm sorry." She slipped an arm around him and gave him time.

 

He set an arm around her to feel her steadiness. "It shouldn't have happened the way it did. We needed him."

 

"He was important to you."

 

"We weren't best friends, but still. He saw some of the worst of the road right along with me and he never gave up doing the right thing. It was hard losing him."

 

A little while later she said, "I don't often hear you saying someone matters to you personally."

 

He cracked a grin. "I'm an independent sort of man. Besides, it's bad business advertising your friendships."

 

"That's true. Still, I'm sorry." She squeezed his waist ever so slightly as if to tell him what she thought of advertising.

 

Bad business. Against one's own best interests. He knew he wasn't around much, but had she really been surprised to hear that he cared about anyone? The years were fragile things, but by now she should have had enough of them to know.

 

She turned a little to meet his eyes and she smiled a comforting smile. The years were fragile things, and she, unlike so many, was still here.

 

He touched his wrist console and let the illusion of a pale human face dissolve to give way to his real one. He didn't want a disguise in the way. She had been listening for so long; she should be hearing this from him. "I love you," he told her. "Everything you are. Everything you do." The sound of his own voice steadied him. He cupped her chin with one hand, pulled her close with the other. "Ruth, I love you. You know all about what I haven't been and what I didn't do for you. You deserve to know this." Because, whether it was good enough or not, it was true.

 

He shouldn't have been surprised to see the beginnings of tears in her eyes. Not after what it took to get here. But he was surprised and worried until she spoke. "I love you, too, Wynston," she said. And smiled, and kissed him in a way that might have melted him on the spot if he hadn't felt so deeply, completely, unshakably right just then.

 

He thought her trembling might just be from the wind, but it didn't stop. "Darling?"

 

"It's the good kind of freaking out," she said, and though her voice shook her smile didn't. "Promise."

 

He was suspicious of her claim that there was a good kind. "You don't 'freak out.'"

 

"I don't get things this nice. Until right now."

 

"You've had me for quite some time, Ruth."

 

"Not like this. Maybe I just like hearing it. Nothing else has to change, what we have is perfect. But knowing matters."

 

Surprising. Sweet. He wished he'd done it sooner. If he'd known it would feel like this he would have. "Well then," he said tenderly. "Know that I love you."

 

She nodded, gave him a kiss that broke into a smile against his lips. "I do."

 

 

 

Notes:

 

I think in prime universe, Wynston located and bailed out Watcher Three right after the Agent class line ended. Wynston was doing a lot of repair work at the time. In that universe Watcher Three did survive and work with the shadow Intelligence organization for many years. But, in this continuity, Wynston's time was taken up salvaging a certain Sith instead.

 

fffff Brain, why must you compulsively trace out cause and effect!? I was going to have an unambiguously happy post! :mad:

 

Umm, on the plus side, a tragic shift then forces the right kind of thoughtfulness now? Then, snuggles! It seems Ruth is always desperately in love months or years before her partner gets around to it. Here ya go, hon. He's slow, but he gets there.

 

Edit: Timeline note, this occurs five years plus a few weeks after they met for the first time on Dromund Kaas.

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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I've wondered about the state of reconstructive surgery in this universe. Are scars just this common because it's some kind of fashion statement? Or are we truly unable to fix them because reasons? (This is Star Wars, I wouldn't be surprised.) I'm kind of rolling with 'it would be a lot of expense for an imperfect job because reasons.'

 

I've always assumed a few things about scars in Star Wars. First that kolto is still a somewhat limited commodity, as such, most non-rich/non-important people would not have access to the quantities that prevent scarring and field hospitals would only use enough to prevent death or loss of something important. Second, wounds not treated immediately will scar unless you want to re-injure the site to have it heal properly, healing properly for major wounds may mean a week or more in a kolto tank. For most of the types we've seen in game with scars (soldiers, agents, jedi, criminals) they either don't want to waste time or can't afford to.

 

So yeah...scars... reasons... lots of reasons.

 

Edit because I was thinking of scars when swoon-worthy stuff was posted so:

*SWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON* aaaaand then melt. *MELT*

Edited by kabeone
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Comments in bulk: :)

L+5 months

D'awww the cuteness of how glad they were to see each other. :D

 

L+6 months

A Wynston version of a love letter! Whoa. Progress.

 

L+13m pt 2

Wynston and Cole omgadorable. And why Wynston likes babies is very him. And him contemplating love...<heart thump>. Argh, adorableness in spades!

 

L+2y8m

I love that Ruth keeps insisting on Wynston as Wynston, instead of Wynston as whoever-he-needs-to-be. The fact that this makes him uncomfortable is amusing :)

 

L+3y2m

Uuuuuugh the Emperor is so revolting. Blech blech blech. Vector is just <3

 

L+3y8m

Awww, Watcher 3 :(

 

But then.... the ILY????? OMG. Wynston, you developing character you! And yay for Ruth getting nice things!!!!

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:) I'm glad you like!

 

L+6 months

A Wynston version of a love letter! Whoa. Progress.

 

I'm betting Wynston has played a regular Cyrano de Bergerac when he's had to, writing or at least ripping off all kinds of florid words to hold the flavor of the month's attention and make her happy. When it comes to expressing something he can commit to as sincere...his word count drops. A lot. :rolleyes:

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L + 4 years

 

 

 

"Jaesa," said Ruth. "You're doing it again."

 

"Doing what?" Jaesa said innocently.

 

"Losing your focus into the middle distance while grinning? And humming."

 

Vette snickered.

 

"Criticizing that these days would be the height of hypocrisy, master."

 

"Let the record show," announced Vette, "that Ruth called Jaesa on it first today. By the way, this is why I'm leaving you all next week."

 

"Again," said Ruth. "I hope your museum people appreciate the time you put in."

 

"They appreciate the artifacts I put in more. We've got a good thing going. But, I'm not gonna let that distract me from mocking – see!?"

 

Jaesa started and looked guilty.

 

"Goo goo eyes," said Vette. "She had 'em."

 

"She definitely did," said Ruth.

 

"When are you due for your next boy-fix?" inquired Vette.

 

Jaesa blushed prettily. "I'll be seeing Kaeve this weekend."

 

"You can do all the nice-guy Sith activism-y things together. I'm gonna vote 'skeptical' on the meeting guys through work thing, but you're clearly having a good time."

 

"He's a good man," said Jaesa.

 

"A good googly-eye-inducing one. I am glad somebody on Dromund Kaas knows how to have a good time." Vette rounded on Ruth. "Speaking of. Where's Blue Power this week? I did not drag him on board kicking and screaming on Corellia just to have him wander off every time I turn my back."

 

"He wanders at will, Vette. It's one of his defining characteristics. People do that when you don't nail them down."

 

"So get naili…I am not going to finish that sentence."

 

Ruth grinned. "I'll see him when I see him. Googly eyes will be had, if it makes you feel any better."

 

"He still sending you love letters?"

 

"Oh. Stars. Vette, don't even–"

 

"Because I think that was the best dirty tidbit I ever found on him in files you may have accidentally left open." She spread her hands in the air across an imaginary console screen. "'Things are busy. Take care. W.' Hey, are you up to a full-name basis yet?"

 

"Vette, shut up."

 

Vette waved her hands again as if opening a new message. "I can see it now: 'Hi. Can't talk now. W.' Ooh, ooh, or the classic 'Thinking of you. Try not to die. Love, Wynston.'" – Is that too personal? Are you not there yet?"

 

"His last note had a whole ten words at least, possibly more. Happy?"

 

"Were they dirty?"

 

"No!" Ruth giggled and looked over to where the kitchen droid was entering. "Hey, look, a distraction."

 

*

 

It was much later in the evening, and the conversation had wandered far and wide, when Jaesa made noises about leaving and Vette stretched and finally set down the deathglow she had been nursing.

 

"Jaesa, before you go anywhere, should we, I dunno, say a few words or something?" suggested the Twi'lek. "About, you know. That thing I was out of town for a few weeks back. I'm not saying Broonmark wasn't a horrifying walking pile of bloodshed, but he was with us for a while."

 

Ruth sobered. "He fought well. The Sith who laid that trap for me weren't intending to leave survivors, but he broke the line before they got him…fearless to the end. Terrifying, even by Sith industry standards, but he brought us a long way."

 

"Would you believe," said Jaesa, "the first thing he did when we first talked was to give me a lecture on staying warm? He thought 'Sith clan apprentice' was going to freeze dressing the way I did."

 

"I was too busy hiding from him to get that lecture," said Vette. "Continuously. For the entirety of his stay with you, Miss Wrath."

 

"He stood by me," said Ruth. "That makes up for all." She raised her glass, feeling a sharp dual twinge as a backhanded toast came to mind. "To Broonmark," she said. "He was still nicer than Quinn."

 

 

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L + 5 years

This is substantially similar to the canon universe rendition (published here). Only the intro and a note about whether Wynston's claim of being close to Ruth is true have changed.

 

 

 

Wynston's life was going well. He had, for most of his career, been satisfied with his job and his goals; this only varied to neutral or irritable when he was having trouble bringing reality into line with his goals. The last couple of years, though, the spaces in between tasks had felt much more than satisfied. It was good.

 

And Ruth was thriving. Happy with her son, her job, her life. There was just one topic she abruptly shut down whenever he got too close.

 

He was increasingly operating his agency independently these days, still using the Tenebrous as a roving base. He corresponded regularly with Keeper on matters of interest to the Empire. And so, when she brought up the prospect of a particular off-the-books job that would require a highly skilled operative with ground support from a minor military outpost, Wynston took it. He was curious.

 

And so it was that Wynston was escorted into a conference room to meet with Colonel Malavai Quinn.

 

"Colonel," said Wynston, not bothering with a salute.

 

"Cipher," said Quinn.

 

The neat little Chiss took up his station at a console next to the human's. "I'm here to pick up the schematics for the Republic base along with any other surveillance information you have."

 

"Since Intelligence seems to lack the necessary resources, I will oblige."

 

"My superiors have chosen to leverage military expertise, colonel, on the assumption that you have some to offer." Wynston tapped a session active on the console and accepted the files Quinn was dragging his way. Staff schedules, logistical details on what resources the place took in and spat out; there, blueprints. Wynston fished out a datacard with one hand and fed it into the console to copy. He started examining the map.

 

Quinn's next words were spoken in a quiet controlled tone. "The Wrath. Is she...?"

 

"She's alive, no thanks to you," said Wynston, not looking over. "I'm not here to answer your questions. What do you know about the power conduits, here? Is the maintenance access navigable by a midsized combat droid?"

 

Quinn was subdued. Aware, professional, quick to answer Wynston's questions, but subdued. The years seemed to have changed the angry but would-be-expressionless drone into a slightly older expressionless drone. No surprises there.

 

"That's everything you asked us to prepare. Will you require anything else?"

 

"No, this will suffice." Wynston recovered his datacard. "I won't be returning. I can forward you any relevant conclusions from the operation afterward if you wish."

 

"Please do." There was a pause. Quinn closed his eyes and said, with some effort, "Be good to her."

 

"Not to worry. I can't possibly do worse than you." Ruth had told him not to kill Quinn, but she hadn't said anything about hurting him. "By the way, you'll be glad to know your son is doing well. He's quite charming. I'll be sure to give him your regards next time I take him and Ruth out someplace."

 

"Get out," said Quinn, in a voice so low that only the rage of it confirmed that anything had been said at all.

 

Wynston didn't bother hiding his smile. "Thank you for your assistance, colonel. Good day."

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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L + 5 years 11 months

 

 

 

Colrand looked up from his toy mech walker battle. "Where's my dad?"

 

Ruth's tongue roughly tripled in size for a few moments. She hadn't been expecting to start that conversation this way.

 

Colrand stared at her, his eyes blue as the leading edge of dusk. He had his father's eyes.

 

"Your father did a bad thing," she said carefully, "and had to go away. That's why he isn't here."

 

"Is he coming back?"

 

"No."

 

Colrand frowned and thought about it. "Doesn't he like us?"

 

"Oh, Cole. Baby, he loves you very much." Whether that was true or not, her son deserved to believe it.

 

"What'd he do?"

 

"Something bad, sweetheart. It'll make more sense when you're older. We can talk about it another time."

 

She hoped that kind of act would never make sense to him. It didn't to her.

 

Colrand clearly wasn't satisfied, but she wasn't ready to talk more. Instead she examined his battle setup. "Cole, who's going to stop the gundark tanks from just cutting around that side?"

 

The boy scowled. "There's buildings there." He pointed at the offending exposed flank, clearly indicating that there were buildings there she couldn't see. "It's safe."

 

"Good," she said. "You always keep some kind of cover in the way." Or in a pinch, she thought, you improvised some.

 

"Yup," agreed Colrand, and commenced the attack, his black cowlick waving in total defiance of gravity as he moved.

 

He was his father's son.

 

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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L+4y

Sith being moonstruck girls in love - very cute.

"To Broonmark," she said. "He was still nicer than Quinn."
To Broonmark!

 

L+5y

Enter Malavai Quinn. I totally did an out loud "dun dun dun" when he came into the scene.

 

L+5y11m

I'd imagine that Cole hears a lot fewer rants about how awful Quinn was than Rylon did. I'm all nervous though, I like Ruth/Wynston SOOOOO much better than Ruth/Quinn but I don't know how suspetible (oh lord I can't spell) she is to Quinn still...eeek.

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L + 6 years

 

 

 

Ruth's smile when she answered Wynston's holocall was a little subdued. "Hi," she said.

 

"Ruth. I'm a ways out from Dromund Kaas yet, but I've got a little time on my hands. Would you happen to be around?"

 

"I'm working, actually."

 

"Ah." That happened sometimes. "Anything I can help with?"

 

"If you like," she said distantly. "The target's vessel is due to pass through a certain space station in about eight hours. Meet me there." She cut him off.

 

All right. Ruth preoccupied, bad. Ruth not minding his coming anyway, good. Wynston got moving.

 

He met her on a barely-inhabited space station out in the middle of nowhere. She was already in the control room, accompanied by Lieutenant Pierce and several of her personal guard in their service-of-the-Wrath variant on red and black armor. The people she brought when she anticipated trouble.

 

"Hello," said Wynston as he stepped in.

 

"I anticipate his arrival any minute now," said Ruth in his direction. "This is a direct Emperor's mark, there won't be mistakes. Pierce, I'm going to hangar three. Stay here, monitor matters, and if anything unusual comes up that isn't in hangar three, deal with it."

 

"Yes, milord." Pierce nodded smartly. Ruth stalked out to the hallway, nearly knocking Wynston over when he came too close.

 

He jogged to follow her. He was no Force sensitive but he felt the cold about her just then. She had a work ethic, but this was something else.

 

Or maybe not. She was allowed to have her own work style, and when the Emperor called the mission was probably urgent enough that she didn't want to play around. He had never been around to observe the immediate effects of one of these missions before; maybe this was just how she dealt with the Emperor's intrusions before she had calmed enough to call him or otherwise unwind. Maybe.

 

The target landed and disembarked. Ruth strode out and wasted absolutely no time laying into her. Wynston hung back to shoot at the stranger's guardsmen. He kept an eye on Ruth; she had eyes for nothing but the mark she had named.

 

In the moment she landed the killing blow, her face was utterly blank.

 

She finally turned to the remaining guardsmen and helped Wynston clear the rest of them. Wynston shivered as he holstered his pistol and headed over to meet her. "All set?"

 

"Yes." She shook her head briskly, then smiled at him. "Easy."

 

"And you're…feeling all right?" She looked all right, all of a sudden. He wasn't sure what signs to check for of any lingering wrongness.

 

"Yes, I'm fine." She shot him a curious look, as if he were the one behaving strangely, and then stepped over the dead woman and reached out to take Wynston's hand. "Come on, tell me you've got a little more time to spare."

 

"For you? Always." She would want warming up, once she had returned to normal. He only wished he knew exactly what she was returning from.

 

 

 

 

 

Because all Ruth stories are mind control stories? That kinda happens when you're stuck between the Emperor and the Agent plotline. Sorry! As has been discussed elsewhere, this Emperor's only real schtick is mind control. It's what he does. I'm sort of massively downgrading him by only allowing him specific-order compulsions when he gives his Wrath the high-priority orders.

 

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L + 7 years, part 1

 

 

She had seen him around. Several times, actually, during infighting flare-ups on Dromund Kaas or altercations on the war front. He was a good sort. Honorable, more interested in the Empire's good than his own gain. So when he extended an invitation to some social function, she went with it. Networking with Sith was primarily Jaesa's job, but it couldn't hurt for Ruth to see and be seen a little in Kaas City.

 

She spent a little time annoying several prominent Sith by describing victories earned and worlds brought into the fold with minimal force. When she had gotten bored of their annoyance she drifted off toward an alcove, where the man who had invited her found her not long after.

 

"Is the crowd not to your liking, Wrath?" He had a pleasant baritone voice, a curl of humor that lacked the malice most Sith cultivated.

 

"I believe I'm not to theirs. It's good to have a presence here, but I'm glad my work keeps me in the field much of the time."

 

"I know the feeling. It may not be more honest on the front as such, but circumstances there make much shorter work of fools." He sipped his drink and smiled. "If you're quite tired of the party, we might discuss matters some place more private."

 

"No, thank you." He was a decent enough Sith that she wanted to be nice about it. "I'm spoken for."

 

He raised his eyebrows. "And I would never dream of disrupting arrangements. But I don't see him here tonight."

 

Ruth smiled and, without lifting a hand, firmly Force pushed the man back a step. "I do."

 

 

 

L + 7 years, part 2

 

 

The disguise generator's prototype forcefield capacity was holding up very well. Which was good, because this mark didn't seem susceptible to very many means of persuasion and she wouldn't consider a Chiss for the means he had available.

 

Ah, job calculations.

 

When it came to this he had always had a lot of considerations running in his head at once. Time, place, mood, gather any background or psychological tidbits he could from the conversation here and now, tease out and enjoy any and every wonderful little detail the girl had to offer; maintain situational awareness, keep half an eye out for alternatives to seduction – not that he had traditionally put much thought into that element – on and on, traditional baseline considerations running alongside perpetual novelty.

 

This, in the field, it was habit, restless. Challenging. Often useful. It got results. Sometimes it felt like it was just something to do until he came home.

 

He couldn't help thinking of her on some level every time. The one who skipped the lies, the continuous paranoia. Skipped the guesswork while still somehow being new every time.

 

There were, in the galaxy, a great many charmers with a great many charms. The agent did what the agent did best, and Wynston thought of home.

 

 

 

Notes:

 

I do not feel that this is a sad or destructive arrangement, not for consenting adults. Ruth is very much a monogamist by nature, and Wynston is very much not, and that's one of the things they accept – with the understanding that he keeps it out of sight – because for them it's not a dealbreaker.

 

 

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SW/Agent spoiler

 

 

Poor Ruth, but I agree, Emperor + Agent story lines would lead to mind control of some kind. Especially after Lord Scourge's betrayal, the Emperor would not make the same mistake (or he'd try not to) with the new Wrath.

 

Ruth does not seem to be totally aware of the difference between her Emperor-mission self and her normal self though she did have that kind of dirty feeling the first couple times. I remember in RMC Quinn noticed but never said much about it. I wonder if Wynston will be different. :D

 

 

 

 

As far as their one-sided open relationship, as long as they have an understanding and neither feel the need to change it, there's nothing wrong there. I kind of want to know more about "honorable Sith dude" I may just have a thing for deep voiced Sith dudes. Maybe :).

Edited by kabeone
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L + 8 years

 

 

 

"When do I get Juyo form?"

 

"When you're ready, Cole. Come on, Soresu guard up. Without a balanced defense you won't be alive long enough to use the aggressive moves."

 

Colrand raised his training saber. Ruth had given him a live one once or twice, just to heft it, to get used to the flash and subtle discomfiting shiver the weapon did during activation. The rest of the time it was training sabers.

 

She matched her attack to his defenses, concentrating at first in letting him identify and block her swings. She didn't have to slow down all that much; Colrand was quick and coordinated. He followed forms even better than she usually did; give him a rule and he would master it in minutes.

 

"Excellent," she said after a little while. "You're really in tune with what's going on."

 

"Focus, like you said. I'm…sorry I called it boring a lot."

 

"It's all right. I know it isn't all that glamorous. Now. You think you can use the Soresu style attacks to get me?"

 

Colrand's face lit up. He spun into an offensive almost before she could bring her training saber up to stop him. He was fast, he was good. She held her ground, let the Force guide her as she knew it was guiding him. She watched, and when he made a mistake she sidestepped and swatted his side with her saber. It unbalanced him after his reckless attack; he stumbled and fell, grunting loudly when he hit the ground.

 

She reached to help him to his feet. "Watch your right arm," she warned. "It feels like there's more power behind that strike the way you tried, but it leaves your side open."

 

"Rrrrg." Colrand made a face.

 

"Frustrated?" she said gently.

 

The boy scowled at her.

 

"It's easy to let that anger overwhelm you. It will give you access to the Dark Side, guide you for a while. But it may fail you when you need it most. And using the Dark Side for too long will cloud your judgment in everything, not just in fighting."

 

"And that's why Dark Side Sith keep blowing up."

 

"Yes, exactly." The phrasing was less than sophisticated, but the idea was sound.

 

"So why do they keep doing it?"

 

"Because it's easy. It's tempting, especially when you're feeling bad. And it's what's expected among most Sith."

 

"But not you and Aunt Jaesa."

 

"Not me and Aunt Jaesa. Not your grandfather, either." Ruth smiled a little in spite of herself. "He favored Soresu, when he had to fight."

 

"Huh." Colrand always seemed fascinated by anything about his grandfather. Or families in general. "Okay." He hefted the practice saber. "Focus," he said. "And watch my arm."

 

One thing she could say for him, she never had to order the same correction twice.

 

 

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L + 11 years

 

Am I pretty much just skipping here and there across the timeline until I get to the Big Crisis? Yes. Here's a transition that was never mentioned in Ruth's prime timeline, but it happened – of course, Ruth wasn't with Wynston to observe it in the prime timeline, but it did happen – so here it gets a brief mention.

 

 

 

Wynston gave Ruth a tired look and didn't slow down to greet her in the rain. He was in no mood to stay out getting soaked. She seemed to understand, as she always did; she walked beside him while he stalked into the house, straight to the bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

"Wynston?" she said gently, sitting beside him.

 

"Trouble at work," he understated.

 

"What happened?"

 

"The Tenebrous is gone," he said. "Not even from an outside threat, Ruth, this was a power play from within the Dark Council. They extracted certain information from the Minister of Intelligence and from there it was all but ordained. After everything we've done to stabilize the situation, we finally had everyone looking at the war at once, and then – this." He hated these people sometimes, these masters of the galaxy, the worst of the Empire and yet somehow its most respected leaders.

 

"Stars. Your people?"

 

"Vector and I had enough warning to get the place evacuated. That's the best news I can report." It was a closer call than it should have been. "My organization has done more to hold this Empire together than some of those squabbling maniacs have done their whole lives, and I have to do it with them actively opposing me."

 

"Anything you can point me at?"

 

"No. We can't…that isn't how we can get things done, though some days I wish it were." He should have stopped talking right around 'trouble at work,' but she was still listening, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and giving him a place to get the rant out of his system.

 

"I'm sorry," she said. "We'll rebuild."

 

"Yes. We will." He clasped his hands so tight it hurt. "This isn't a total loss. Very soon my people will be commissioning the Aegis. The mission goes on." He clenched his jaw for a moment. "No matter what."

 

"Even if I can't hit anything, my resources are at your disposal."

 

He shook his head. Her help was in keeping him sane. He wanted her to do more, but he could never be sure of her employer. "I don't want you getting tied up too closely in this." He squeezed his hands tighter for a moment. "I'm glad your boss has given us breathing room thus far. Believe me, we're still getting the right thing done, in spite of the Council." He took a short controlled in-out breath. "Come here."

 

She wrapped her other arm around him, and he buried his nose in her hair and took in the scent of her. It didn't make the situation any less infuriating.

 

"One step forward," he muttered. "Half a parsec back."

 

"You take big steps, beloved."

 

She always seemed to have something nice to say. He caught her waist and brought her down to the bed with him. "I love you," he informed her.

 

She curled up against him, tracing nonsense patterns on his chest, and he rested for a while. There was nothing he could do right at that moment. He let his mind drift, and she let him be.

 

It was better than a safehouse, being here. No matter what happened, she was always ready to welcome him home. Having that to come back to made all the difference in the world.

 

"I've always known," he said slowly, "that one way or another, in some form, with or without me, the Empire would go on. You make me feel like I have a place in that." He traced the curve of her cheek. "I never thought the galaxy I work for was one I was cut out to live in. I just make it safe for others, I'm not meant to keep it. But with you, I can live in it. And that has been…" he broke off and laughed softly. "You've given me ideas beyond my station, darling. I hope you're pleased with yourself."

 

"I'm pleased," she said. "With us." She kissed him. "You were the one giving all the ideas to start with. Don't think I've forgotten."

 

"Mine weren't all that original."

 

"I thought the implementation was very good."

 

He laughed again.

 

"I love the way you smile," she murmured.

 

"I should hope so. You make me do a lot of it, I'd hate to think you don't enjoy the result."

 

She kissed him again, lazily, using one hand to slowly muss his hair in that way that had annoyed him for years but had at some point just come to mean that he was hers. "Can you stay tonight?" she whispered.

 

"Yes."

 

"Good. I'll try to supply enough hugs to last you the next stage of the plan."

 

Weary though he was, he was glad to settle his arms more firmly around her to return the favor.

 

 

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L + 13 years

 

 

 

Colrand was tall for twelve, whip-lean and whip-fast. Ruth waited at the edge of the patio and watched while he faced off against Jaesa. She had filled out over the years since her twins came along, but she was still balanced and deadly. She had the edge of skill over Colrand for now. In another couple of years he might well pull even.

 

Ruth stood by Wynston and watched. Cole's form was textbook-perfect, for a very fast-moving textbook. One that kept skipping chapters as the boy flipped between techniques, adapting as quickly as Jaesa's defense.

 

Even more quickly. He finally managed to touch his training saber to the base of her neck. "Hit," he sang.

 

"Yes," acknowledged Jaesa, lowering her own blade. "That was very well done."

 

He flashed a buoyantly happy grin at all and sundry, then started back toward the edge of the patio. "Who's next? Wynston?"

 

Wynston looked patient. "I'm afraid that apart from giving you the basic blaster-fire-deflection exercises there's not much I can do against you in a stand-up fight these days."

 

"You beat up Force users somehow."

 

"Only when I have to. When I go after Force users I rig the battlefield or at least bring cheats to prevent a fight."

 

Colrand shook his black hair away from his face. "Like what cheats?" he said suspiciously.

 

"If I tell you I can't very well use them, now can I?" Wynston grinned. "It's something of a long list, if you want to know."

 

"Yeah, I want to know."

 

"Well, first of all, there's manipulating the target's social, financial, and political environment in an effort to 'naturally' bring their goals more into line with my own. No fight required. Next, persuasion, negotiation, diplomacy. Asking nicely. Asking nicely with bribes. Asking nicely with bribes and threats from any force you can bring to bear."

 

Colrand looked at his training saber. "I'm not seeing the fighting yet."

 

"No. It's in my best interests not to fight you. If you're a very serious threat it'd be wise for me to arrange for you to come to blows with someone more qualified to face you, a Jedi or a Sith, and then just monitor that fight and intervene only if necessary. Failing that, perhaps rig the environment. An accidental shuttle explosion, a building collapse, a sleen migratory stampede – you laugh, but I've seen someone get away with that one."

 

Ruth and Jaesa exchanged looks. Wynston kept going.

 

"Alternately, smaller-scale disasters. A minor explosion. A broken power conduit. Poison. A fast-acting infection combined with the very badly timed failure of any transport that might've gotten the target to treatment. Allergic reaction, if the target has any known allergies. Stealth approach for a knife to the back, if you're very confident in both your silence and your ability to maintain a cap on your emotions – we could practice your detecting that, now that I think of it. Moving on, a sabotaged droid modified to deliver some kind of killing blow. Sniper shot. Airlock malfunction. A hefty shot of tranquilizers or a very fast carbo-spray job, if the target's to be taken in alive." He smiled slightly. "Lightsaber combat isn't my area of expertise. Preventing lightsaber combat is."

 

Colrand took a moment to digest all that.

 

"Mom?" he said.

 

"Yes, Cole?"

 

"Remind me why I'm not supposed to just punch Force-blinds in the face the first chance I get?"

 

"First of all, most of them have no idea how to do what Wynston just listed, and second, many of those who do are on our side. Be sure of the threat before you start throwing your weight around."

 

"Believe it or not," Wynston said helpfully, "I favor asking nicely."

 

"I hope so," said Colrand.

 

"If you like I'll show you my baseline kit, the things I always have in the field. There are ways to deal with a lot of it once you know what to expect."

 

The boy looked to Ruth. "Can I?"

 

"Sure." She was usually strict about lesson hours, but she could let him set the saber aside early today. "Go on."

 

Colrand put the training saber back on the rack and went to join Wynston indoors.

 

"Jaesa," said Ruth, watching where they had disappeared into the house, "I think my boyfriend and my son are bonding over neurotoxins."

 

"It sounded like it, yes."

 

"Ever look back and think this isn't where you expected to be when you were younger?"

 

"You say that like we're old ladies."

 

"We've got two marriages, a divorce, and three children between us. That's respectable old-lady material. And not at all where I expected to end up."

 

"It's good?"

 

"It's good."

 

"Cole is really coming along. The offer to go to the academy on Arrend is always open, if you like. You can visit any time, and Kaeve and I have dozens of students there, it's a good environment for us non-traditional Sith."

 

"I'm keeping him," Ruth said with a smile. "I plan on keeping him for quite a while."

 

 

 

 

 

Ruth's 33 here, and Jaesa 34. Yes, Jaesa's a year older than Ruth. Jaesa's age at the start of the class line…or rather at her appearance in that class line?...is canonically 20.

 

Wynston just recently turned 40. Old man. :p

 

 

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L + 14 years, part 1

 

 

 

The Emperor called, and Ruth answered. She endured the creeping study of her mind, received her assignment, and went forth to work.

 

They intercepted the target's ship, an unregistered frigate, in deep space, and secured a boarding action. Ruth left Pierce to make sure the place was locked down while she proceeded to the bridge.

 

Where she was very surprised to find Wynston standing next to her target.

 

"Ruth." Wynston's look was happy but questioning. "It's good to see you."

 

"I'm here on assignment, Wynston. Step aside."

 

His smile vanished. "Ruth, this is Lord Vrayen. He's one of ours, he's been instrumental in disrupting certain highly destructive fringe groups in–"

 

"Step aside, Wynston."

 

"I'll vouch for him."

 

"That isn't the point. Get out of the way."

 

He was rapidly settling into his business mode, the serious intense one that meant he wanted something done and he wanted it done now. "We can talk about this. We're fighting planet-killers here, and Vrayen is–"

 

She drew her sabers and started for the target.

 

Wynston moved to intercept. "Ruth, wait!"

 

She Force pushed him aside and into the wall, giving the subtle force adjustment at the end that would slam his arm in particular to shock the blaster out of his hand. He would not stop her. The Sith she was descending upon raised his saber but he was too slow, and she was far, far too powerful.

 

It was over quickly. She shivered when the target fell, and rolled her shoulders uneasily. The kill felt bad. She shoved the thought aside; this was her job. She turned instead to Wynston, who had gotten to his feet and was edging toward her with frozen-faced caution. "It had to be done," she told him. "I'm sorry. Don't get in my way like that again, this is serious work."

 

"It is," he said stiffly. "Quite serious. Were you listening to me? He was–"

 

"It's done, Wynston." He wasn't usually like this. "Please. Don't make this difficult."

 

"This was one of the Emperor's personal jobs. Wasn't it."

 

"Yes." She shifted uncomfortably. She felt cold. "I'm sorry. I'd better get going. There's work to do."

 

"That there is." He rubbed his shoulder and frowned. "For one thing I've got a planet to save, and Vrayen's no longer in a position to take care of it." He gave her a long, searching look. And then, when she turned toward the door, he again made to intercept her, only this time he kissed her, hard, untying her hair to run his hands through it while it fell to cover her neck. He kept his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes. "Do you feel even slightly different now than you did a few minutes ago?" he asked.

 

"Not really? I'm a little cold."

 

He looked grim. "I know that. Be careful, Ruth. I'll be in touch."

 

 

 

 

:eek:

 

 

 

L + 14 years, part 2

 

 

 

The matter of Vrayen's mission was solved in short order. Wynston made sure of it. He had other places to be.

 

Even now, after having severed most ties with old Intelligence, Wynston maintained an authorized Cipher agent identity with appropriate face and personnel records. The nice thing about Cipher agents is that their relative autonomy in the field meant that very few people expected to know them or see them around all the time.

 

Once through the doors, he passed unchallenged into the archives and gathered everything he could find on the Jedi who had once resisted the Emperor's will and the Sith who had betrayed the Emperor once before. They knew something, had something Wynston didn't, something that had to do with those audiences and the blank killing that followed them.

 

It was time to talk.

 

 

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L + 14 years 8 months, part 1

 

 

 

The vast majority of the assignments Ruth got from the Emperor's Hand contributed directly to the war effort, destroying generals, Jedi battle masters, the best of the Republic's leaders and warriors. Some, however, veered into stranger territory – Sith and Imperial officers, though they may well be suspected to be treasonous – and some mystics and low-profile non-fighters that Ruth couldn't account for at all.

 

It was getting hard to tell which jobs were doing any good.

 

Wynston steadied her. She kept in close touch now, with him most of the time, with Vector or one of Wynston's other agents otherwise. They helped make sense of the work, sometimes helped her find ways to deconflict entirely rather than just hitting the first thing the Emperor's Hand pointed out. And she spent a lot of time in meditation, seeking to strengthen the connections she had to the living things around her. Seeking to smooth away the uncertainty that kept creeping upward in the corners of her awareness.

 

She got the job done, but it was getting…tricky.

 

 

 

 

L + 14 years 8 months, part 2

 

 

 

Wynston didn't know how long this mission was going to take. And he didn't know how the major players were going to react. Whatever happened, the person doing this couldn't be Wynston. That left too much unprotected.

 

He constructed a disguise, human because humans could blend in in more places, get away with more, and besides he liked the way people treated him when he was human. Female because he would rather be female if and when he started dealing with the Jedi hero, given her known proclivities, and given how much (that is to say, not at all) he suspected he would enjoy playing along with that with such a woman. If there was no other way to reach her he could just try again with a male disguise.

 

He made the construct, set his disguise generator to activate. Wynston had better keep a low profile. In his place, Orphea was going to find answers and bring them home.

 

*

 

The big Sith had been climbing the mountain path for some time. The slim brunette had been following him, slowly closing the distance. In a cave section cutting through the mountain the Sith stopped in place. "So," he said, his voice ringing in the cavern despite being delivered at a conversational tone. "Hunter. You've finally caught up."

 

That wasn't a promising start. Even this many years after the fact, the name 'Hunter' was enough to set teeth on edge. Orphea took another few steps before halting. With a face that could pass as some relative of Ruth's, she smiled a bland smile. "I'd be obliged if you never called me that again."

 

"I have tolerated your clumsy efforts at tracking me long enough, hunter. I should crush you where you stand."

 

Orphea stood her ground. "Lord Scourge, fifteen years ago you spearheaded an effort to stop some effort of the Emperor's, an effort so dangerous that you were willing to work with a Jedi and risk an openly treasonous return to Dromund Kaas to end it. Whatever it is, it's happening again. I think you know why and I think you could use the resources I have to stop it."

 

Lord Scourge turned around. He was huge, seemingly even bigger in the confines of the passage. He wore battle-ready armor despite the fact that there was no sentient presence within hundreds of klicks of this forsaken mountain. His eyes seemed to flash a brighter red as he looked Orphea and her plain, utilitarian leathers over. "I think you should scurry away and leave this to your betters."

 

"Rituals on Tatooine and Embaril. Confirmed planetkillers in varying stages of development located on Aargonar and Rodis. There's a reason, and I don't think indiscriminate destruction is it."

 

"Actually, it is, or close enough." Scourge made a very small laughing exhalation at the look on Orphea's face. "So you know a little about a few insignificant planets. I do not think you realize the magnitude of what you are meddling with. What is this to you, little hunter? Is there not some smaller quest that would get you killed as easily?"

 

"This is the only one that matters. I have trackers. I have credits. I have manpower. I have experience in going where I'm not wanted and doing what my opponent doesn't want done. I can go a long way toward foiling whatever plan he has. But I need to know what that is…and I need to know why he can no longer command you."

 

Scourge raised a brow ridge. "Then you already know his powers of control?"

 

"I know more of it than I'd like to and less than I need to. You got free somehow. Furthermore you know someone who threw off a direct mental attack from him. I need that information."

 

His sneer was dark and somehow thorough. "There is nothing in you that will ever be capable of facing the Emperor's will."

 

"No. But if anyone alive has what it takes, I know who could do it." Orphea crossed her arms. "So. Do you think we can talk?"

 

He considered. "Perhaps we can work together," he said. "If you have resources to offer, I would be a fool to turn them down. The galaxy is at stake."

 

That was news to Orphea. She was a little surprised that her immediate impulse was to file it away and get back to seeking the interesting information. When Lord Scourge got moving, Orphea followed. This Wrath was free, and she would do anything it took to ensure that the new Wrath was, too.

 

 

 

 

 

Hey, if Orpheus can walk up to the assorted terrors of the underworld and work his way by with nothin' but a banjo and his own sweet voice, Wynston's gotta try.

 

 

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This story is great! :D It's always so fascinating to see how one small change in a story can ripple outward to have greater and greater effects...I love AUs. I also love the symbolism of the name Orphea, although that's probably not particularly surprising... *glances at Greek mythology references in own thread* ...yeah. :rolleyes:

 

I can't wait to see what happens next! :)

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