It was a full day's battle in the lightless caverns far beneath a nameless planet, and in the end, the struggles of the ancient Force beasts guarding the nexus of power collapsed the one access tunnel they had. Well, something collapsed it, anyway. Ruth and most of her troops made it out, but the way was shut; it would take a full engineering corps to even begin to approach that underground kingdom again.

Quinn, naturally, already had orders out for exactly that by the same their shuttle got back to the Tenacity. Ruth had to hope the delay caused by the convenient rockslide would be enough to protect this particular location from the Emperor's forces for long enough.

She returned to the Tenacity and headed to the bridge to check the ship's status. She felt a chill when an aide called her and Quinn to a conference room to answer the holo of the Emperor's Hand.

Servant One looked even grimmer than usual. "Your status, Wrath?"

"The mission encountered a setback. Our engineers are working on restoring the tunnels to the required location."

"The Wrath falters," quavered Servant Two. It was…worse than usual.

"This is a critical time, Wrath. If your focus should fail, much will be lost. And yet losses are all we see of late. Your work is undone on every front; even that which you succeed in, we find ourselves unable to hold. A victory is required, and soon." He leaned forward. "Nothing less than victory will be tolerated."

"Victory rises," added Servant Two. "The defeated will not survive."

"When we call again, Wrath, be ready. Be swift. You live at the will of the Emperor because you are his strong right hand. A hand paralyzed is worthless to us." The holo image winked out.

Ruth looked around to reassure herself that only she and Quinn had witnessed this. He turned his fierce gaze from the holo to her. "We will redouble our efforts," he said confidently. "No task defeats you once you put your mind to it."

That's the best he had against those threats? "It won't matter," she said. "Their victory condition is total destruction. I'm dead either way." Unless they ended this soon.

"This again?" He waited, but she couldn't think of what to say. "We cannot forsake our posts. You know what punishment would be visited upon us for rebellion."

"Don't you see what will be visited on us if we stay? The Hand and its master are in this to kill. And kill, and kill, not for the Empire, not for any of us."

"Don't do this. Nothing they said–"

"Were you listening? They're looking for a reason to execute me." That was, in theory, supposed to move people who cared about her.

"Their focus is on the greater plan. They need their servants to succeed. You can preserve yourself by doing as they ask, Ruth, and I will help you with that. We have no other choice." He approached and offered his arms. She didn't fight him. "You don't have to do this alone," he said quietly. "They will have no reason to hurt you, because I won't let the mission fail."

I don't need help with the mission. I need you to believe me.

She couldn't force the issue. So she kissed him instead. If he insisted on fighting she might not have many more chances.

Lord Scourge stopped in the office doorway. "Wynston."

Orphea looked up. "I haven't seen him today."

"Nor have any of us, I suspect. I ask because I see no reason why Wynston's barely controlled disappointment of five days ago should have broken Orphea's will to fight."

"My will to fight is fine."

"You have an animal's need to survive, yes. Were it not for that you would have given up the moment the Wrath walked away."

"One is usually disappointed to lose one's family like that, my lord."

"Your concern isn't for family. I recognize a loss born of desire when I see one."

"Like hell you do." She hoped she looked sharper than she felt when she narrowed her eyes at him. "You said you don't feel anything."

"I did, as a simplification. Do not be so uncritical. A Sith that truly feels nothing would have no passion to work with, no ability to work with the Force."

"The Force isn't my business. Passion isn't my business. Wynston, off the job, isn't my business. Even the Wrath is no longer my business, she made that clear. Now if you're not in this room to give me news on the mission I'm asking you to leave."

"I will not. I remain curious about your disguise. This is some technology you have developed? Or borrowed?"

Figures she would fail in protecting that, too. Orphea, still glaring, tapped the cybernetics in her hip in the sequence that would let Wynston take over. "Borrowed and improved," he said.

"I see. To those who guard their feelings, and to those who need only fool Force-blinds, it must be quite useful. But in the past days Wynston's passion toward the Wrath is blindingly bright in the Force, a factor you had best account for in what you call your business."

"Thank you for the insight. Anything else, my lord?"

"I find myself curious as to how a creature such as yourself developed such an attachment to one of the foremost Sith Lords of your time. She bears little resemblance to the Sith I know, but even for her, association with one such as you seems unlikely."

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Next question?"

"Your anger is powerful." Scourge sounded like he enjoyed it. "You can make use of that."

"Yes, thanks, I intend to. I've got a galaxy to save, I may enjoy taking out my frustrations on the Emperor."

"You cannot stand in the same room as the Emperor and survive."

"Then I'll pay you to take out my frustrations on the Emperor. We've been over this, haven't we?"

"I do not do this for payment. And neither do you. You are no mercenary. And until recently you have been much more than an animal scrabbling for survival. It was that as much as your claims of resources that first intrigued me about your offer." He crossed his arms and showed his teeth. "Do not burn out so quickly."

"I don't burn out."

"Good. Then let us move on." Something of the malicious amusement faded. "The Wrath's reports are of individual small projects; they have no pattern and offer no clues toward the greater game. We cannot continue this indefinitely. I recommend more direct action, and we will see whether the aftermath sheds more light on where to go."

"I'm starting to agree with you." He did want to hit something.

"Will your Wrath join us?"

No. She was with the person she loved, heedless of the cost to herself. "The Wrath is busy distracting the Emperor's forces," he said. "It's all we can hope for from her."

Guard duty. This was a populated planet almost within the Core Worlds; it still had its secrets.

Guard duty, nothing more; no battle she could throw, no easily excused sabotage. Imperial Guard swarmed around her at the spaceport. She sorted them into order and led them to the compound where the ritual was to take place.

She wondered whether it would kill her, and Quinn, and all their allies there, when it succeeded.

Under Quinn's direction the guard spread out around the complex, protecting the great hall into which hooded Sith were filing. She made a round of the place herself, noting its defenses, inspecting the troops.

After that she waited. She strained her Force senses, wondering what was going on.

When she felt the ritual begin it was a sudden hole in the world. She had guard duty, nothing more; no battle she could throw, no easily excused sabotage. But something was happening in there and if there was no room for subtlety, it might be that the time for subtlety was over.

She turned toward the great door. Quinn, at her shoulder, made a small movement. "My lord?"

"I have to check something. Stay here."

He eyed her warily. "Don't go in there."

"I sense a disruption, Quinn. Stay behind, it won't be safe for you."

The suspicion in his expression didn't lessen. "Am I to lose you like this, then?"

"Malavai, for once in your life trust me. I will come back to you." But would he do something behind her back? "Furthermore I'm ordering you to stay here until I do return. There are consequences for defying me as well, dearest, and I am not as soft as I was the last time you did so."

Suspicion had given way to something like horror, if only in his eyes; he otherwise seemed impassive. "As you command, my lord," he said sharply. "I will stand guard here."

"And I'll take care of us. I promise."

The entry hall was empty. She stepped into a dimly lit corridor and the Dark Side energy hit her like a rocket train. She reached within herself to set up her shield. A light in the darkness, a warmth in the cold.

There were many doors along that corridor, but the darkness she sensed guided her even as it pushed against her. It was thick, choking. Subtly moving. Something at the center of it was growing.

A shield against shadows, a fire in the night. She had to draw on something to maintain her focus against this. She thought of Quinn. Mixed, and yet she loved him. She needed something clearer, deeper: she thought of Colrand, of the necessity of seeing him again, seeing him safe. She thought of her son.

And, suddenly, spontaneously, of Wynston.

Her feelings leaped up to her defenses before she could put any kind of intelligent control on them. With him beside her she would scarcely even notice the creeping dark. Even if she had lost him, if he couldn't forgive her for leaving, he made the galaxy better by existing. He made her life better. And he believed in her.

She reached a staircase and felt a rising fear striking at her shield. It was so very cold here, and she was being watched now. Better to turn back.

No, she reminded herself. Destruction waited and she had to stop it before it consumed her son, her son and so many more. The need to defend Colrand strengthened her further.

But as she reached the lower level something in her started ordering her to give up. She would die here, or die when her betrayal was discovered; in the end she had no choice. Turn back. Give up.

In the end she…that reminded her of something. Something Wynston always said in that voice she loved with the idealism she loved. There was always a choice. Alone she had forgotten, or tried to because it was easier. But it wasn't about commands and the hopeless sense that trust was the first luxury to go. It wasn't about that at all. She was here to fight, and she was fighting for more than just what was permitted.

Colrand. Wynston. Quinn. And much more than that. Her people, her loved ones, the Empire she had always fought for. The galaxy she had always fought for. Against that, what was a little darkness?

Her saber flared crimson in the gathering dark when she reached the ritual chamber. There was no visible disturbance where she felt that aching gap in the Force; there didn't have to be. She knew it was there and she would deal with it once the ritualists were stopped.

Ruth preferred negotiation. She preferred reason, preservation, diplomacy. When she had to fight, though, she was still the best out there. The circle of Sith adepts shivered and broke to attack her, but the raw Force attacks they threw at her glanced off the passions she had bound about herself while her sabers screamed defiance against the dark.

The disturbance at the center was shrinking. Without malice to feed it it was already fading. When the last of the ritualists fell Ruth made a round of the room smashing the Sith artifacts that seemed to be sustaining the rift. And, finally, it closed. Her senses cleared.

The Wrath's mission was a failure, and it was good.

A kind of euphoria buoyed her up as she left the building again and strode out to face Quinn. The relief on his face at seeing her safe assured her that there was hope even for him. She would have kissed him if they weren't so busy being dignified. Instead she signaled for him to round up the troops. "The job here is done," she announced. "Let's go."

An officer was waiting to greet them on the Tenacity. "My lord Wrath. Moff. Your presence is requested on the bridge immediately."

Ruth and Quinn exchanged looks. She led the way. The bridge was newly crowded, studded with red-uniformed Imperial Guard. In the center or the room stood Colrand, and, facing him, a hulking Sith Lord Ruth didn't recognize.

He turned when he heard Ruth and Quinn enter. "Ah, Wrath. I must say you maintain excellent order on the ship. Everything seems to be operating very well, except for the part about winning."

"Step away from my son, Sith."

"I don't think I will. Now, I was told to expect a very specific result from the day's proceedings, and that result somehow didn't happen. Honestly it was going to be spectacular, I'm disappointed."

"Who are you?"

"Next in line for Wrath, my lord. Our master recognizes your power, oh yes. You've done very well for yourself; I very much admire your career. So we're willing to go to some lengths to ensure that you can do your job." He was looking at Colrand. The teenager stared at Ruth and Quinn with a downright heroic effort at composure. The stranger went on. "If you were any less valuable I would already have beheaded you. As it is, incentives first."

"Step away from my son. You won't get another chance."

"Come now, we can't have the best of the Wrath succession all dying at once. And you won't survive striking me down."

"I'll take my chances."

It took only a thought. It was a very strong thought, backed by all the emotion she had built up on the planet and a fresh shot of protective fury, but in the end, it was only a thought that smashed through that Sith's considerable defenses and closed his throat for good.

She drew her sabers and went for the nearest red-clad guardsman. Quinn had his blaster out and was barking orders to the bridge crew. Colrand was…he was fighting, and the need to get him out of combat drove her into the frenzy that cleared the rest of the assailants.

At the end of it he was unharmed. That's what mattered.

"Gentlemen," she announced to the crew, "that action was mine and I will make every effort to shield you from the consequences of it. Clean this up. Do not report it until I say the word."

Beside her, Quinn nodded at the waiting officers. She knew that all of them were waiting on that, not her.

She waved Quinn off and beckoned Cole to her. "Cole, pack your things. Meet me in the Fury's hangar in an hour. Stay calm."

He nodded, gave Quinn a wide-eyed look, and headed out.

Ruth stalked back to her quarters and Quinn, her inescapable shadow, followed behind. The moment the door shut behind them he said "Ruth–"

"I can't do this anymore," she said. "They can do whatever they want to me, or try, but they will not have him."

The intensity of his gaze was a humming threat. "What are you going to do?" he said.

"I'm leaving." She set a hand on her lightsaber. "You're not going to stop me. This has to end."

"I agree. Let me come with you."

Ruth had no idea what to think of that. "Quinn. I'm going to kill the Emperor. You're not invited."

"I don't have the means to protect Colrand here without you. That means he can't stay. And that means I should not. You're going to end the threat to our son? I am with you."

"Really. You mean that. Treason and lack of evidence and all?"

"They threatened Colrand."

His conviction was complete. She believed him. He would do it, just like that, to protect their son. And her immediate, selfish reaction was bitter rage. "Why him and not me?"

Quinn dropped his gaze. "Ruth, he is young. Too young to face this alone. Furthermore he is blameless in this matter."

"And I wasn't?"

It took him a long moment to speak. "You and I must live and die by the same duty. It is far too late for us to change the nature and the requirements of our service. But it can go differently with him. It must go differently."

"Yes," she said, forcing her command tone so her voice wouldn't break. "It must." Suddenly she didn't want to pack, didn't want to set things in order here, just wanted to be away. "I am glad to learn that something can reach you. But I'm taking Cole and I'm leaving. You don't get to come with me. Do your job here if it makes you happy, do anything, I don't care. When Cole is safe we'll talk again. For his sake, not for yours." She backed into the doorway. "You know I love you. Still. Probably always." It was taking all the willpower she had not to cry. "I only wish that counted for something."

I get the feeling that this whole episode has shown Ruth the difference between the love she has with Quinn and with Wynston. Her feelings for Wynston were able to be a light in the darkness for her in a way that her feelings for Quinn were not. Even in this fic I can't help but root for Ruth/Quinn, yet I can't ignore indications that seem to show that Wynston is far better for her in many ways. Yet... if they beat the Emperor... what then? Will it be a case of his work separating them for most of the year, as before? Or... audacious thought... if she is no longer the Wrath, what with there being no Emperor, could she not join him in his work? Or might her place be more overtly political, trying to move into the power vacuum that the Emperor has left behind?

But please let her live this time, Bright. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease!

Ruth strode to the Fury's hangar and up the ramp without looking back. Colrand fell in line behind her, and she sidestepped to at least keep him on the side Quinn didn't station himself at.

"Where's Father?" asked Colrand.

"He's staying behind to manage things here."

"He's coming with us after, right? Or we're coming back here?"

"No and no. We'll talk about you visiting once the fight is over."

"Me. What about you?"

"I won't be returning."

Those dark blue eyes opened wide. "Mom, why? I thought it was working."

"It can't. I'm sorry. He loves you, Cole, more than he or I can say, but I'm not going back to him."

"What happened?"

"I saw what he did about a threat to me and I saw what he did about a threat to you, and the difference between them, that's love. Real, selfless, what you deserve. He has it for you. For me he has affection, and I won't settle for that. I am sorry."

Colrand sat in mute misery for a couple of minutes before speaking again. "So are we going to see Wynston?"

Her throat closed. There was the one who had given her more, before she brushed it aside pretending this mission was like any other. Even parsecs away for months at a time he had given her something better than what she had traded it for. With an effort she said "Just for the mission. We're going to the Aegis, you'll be safe there until we can finish this."

They sat in silence while tearing through hyperspace. Ruth spent the time berating herself. She was a fool. She knew Quinn was temporary. He had never trusted her, never really believed in her. Even if she could stand to have him near for one more mission, for Colrand's sake, he would never be hers. She should have known it was temporary. She had told herself it was temporary. Why didn't she believe it would be temporary?

Love wasn't that easy to shake.

Enough. She was going to take care of Colrand, no matter what it took. She was going back to where she should have been the whole time, and whether Wynston wanted her or not – and he wouldn't, not after she had so easily, so stupidly struck such a deal with the person he had always warned her against, had always been right about – whether Wynston wanted her or not she would help him with his mission.

"Aegis," she said on her approach to the mothership, "this is the Wrath. Can you get me in touch with Wynston?"

"Wrath, just a moment while we try to contact him."

It was Vector's voice that came on next. "Ruth, we are glad to hear from you. But Wynston has already departed."

"Departed…where?"

Vector sounded mildly surprised. "To deal with the Emperor's Voice."

Ruth had handed over the location and some docking codes for the remote station the Voice resided at. Say one thing for the Emperor, nobody was going to stumble across him on a casual stroll around the galaxy.

Orphea didn't set up a full-scale invasion. Vector stayed home to mind the Aegis while Orphea took Larr Gith, Scourge, two dozen veterans in Wynston's employ, and Jaesa.

They met with stiff resistance in the wide curving outer corridor of the station; red-uniformed Imperial Guard, some Sith, all powerful. Scourge and Jaesa were the meaningful vanguard; Orphea and her people with their blasters were just cleanup and rear guard. Would another Sith have been useful? Yes, but they didn't have that luxury. Better to just act.

Every meter was hard and messily won. Orphea was using her vibroknife as much as her blaster in this melee. But with time and bloody effort they pushed to a corridor piercing inward toward the heart of the station. Orphea checked the console. "Locked," she snarled. "Someone find me an access card from – those." She gestured back at the fallen Imperial Guardsmen. "Or something." She stared prodding at the console. This was unacceptable, being locked out here. That Voice had to die. Orphea wanted it over with. If Ruth were here she could just slice – forget it.

All at once, based on nothing Orphea had done, the door whooshed open, revealing a vast, dimly lit chamber.

Scourge nodded at Larr Gith. The Jedi marched ahead, the Sith at her back.

The door slammed shut between them.

Scourge scowled and tested the door with his hands. It stood as stubborn as before. Orphea didn't throw up her hands, but she seriously considered it. Something had to give. "Jaesa," she said, "stay with our people, defend this point. Scourge, if you get a chance at that door you know what to do. I'm going to stealth out to find a power substation, control center, something." Damn the risks, anything was better than waiting. Orphea flicked on her stealth generator. "See you later."

Ruth stalked the outer corridor of the Voice's station. Several hangars had been occupied; automated docking codes got her into an empty one. Colrand was safe on the Aegis; her work was here.

The doors to the station's inner chamber were all shut; she had half an eye on that and half an eye on the fallen guardsmen all around her while she walked. Someone had carved through here. A few people in plain civilian armor lay interspersed with the Imperial guard; Wynston's people.

Halfway down one corridor section, a splash and trail of blood started. Probably another dead soldier at the end. She rounded the curve and instead found Wynston lying flat on his back.

She sprinted the last few steps to his side. He was breathing, rapidly, shallowly, but blood was pooling around him. "Wynston," she burst. "Thank the Force you're alive…hold on. A few bad cuts, but you'll be fine. I…Wynston?"

He lay still but for his efforts to breathe. His red eyes were slitted while he gazed at the ceiling.

"It's all right," she said desperately. She looked at what he had managed to tug out of his satchel and she picked up where he had left off in unwrapping supplies. She took stock: he had a couple of deep crisscrossing cuts on his stomach, another across his chest. One that had broken some cybernetic implant at his hip. Two more that must have rendered his right arm useless. His blood was everywhere.

First the chest wound that seemed to be the worst source of bleeding. She didn't have the expertise to stitch anything up; she just broke open a kolto pack and bound it on tightly. Wynston's breathing was developing a little rasp. "Hang in there," she begged. "I'll get you home."

He was conscious. At least, his eyes were open and tracking her movement. But his face was emotionless and he remained silent save for the harsh shallow gasps. She moved on to the wounds on his stomach. "Wynston, say something. Please."

His head rolled to one side. His breath caught once or twice as if he were readying himself to speak, but nothing came out. Those red eyes never blinked.

She finished what bandaging she could do to at least keep things from spilling out, then took him up in her arms. She suddenly remembered that there was a fight to worry about. But if the Voice was under siege, Scourge and the Jedi could handle it, as they had in the past. And if they couldn't, well, Ruth would be back in a few moments to do it herself. She had a more important problem right now.

She rushed him back to her own ship and the medbay therein. She eased him into the kolto tank, strapped on the breathing mask. His eyes were finally closed. "I love you," she told him, and sobbed. "Don't you dare go anywhere." Then she lowered him the rest of the way into the tank and let him go.

Back into the station at something close to a run. A brief effort to slice the nearest door to the inner chamber failed; Ruth couldn't think. She settled for a thirty-second raw effort of will that finally dented the door and flung it inward. Nothing could be allowed to delay her. Nothing.

She stepped into the great room where she had gotten her orders for the past fifteen years.

"Your lover is slipping away," announced the Voice of the Emperor. Ruth froze in place, her heart tightening.

But he wasn't addressing her. The robed figure was standing before his throne, flinging lightning and raw Force shots at a shaken-looking Larr Gith. To one side some man Ruth didn't recognize was crumpled on the floor. She felt a little glow of life in him. Not a lot.

"Little girl," oozed the Emperor. "Your only allies in this world despise you. You see before you the greatest failure of your sorry life. And you could scarcely face the barest thimbleful of my power even before you gave up on the discipline that might have made you into somebody."

He sent a shot of Force lightning at the fallen man. Larr Gith yelped and flew to intercept with her saber. Her focus was miserably off, Ruth could feel it from where she stood.

"You have failed him."

Ruth strode quickly to Larr Gith's side. The Jedi shot her a venomous look but had to keep most of her focus just on blocking the Voice's attacks. "Kill him already," hissed the Jedi.

She intended to. But the blonde looked so alone, so…scared, for once. She was actually protecting something. And Ruth had a very good idea of what she was feeling just then. "Work with me," said Ruth. "We haven't failed them yet." She hoped it was true. Stars, she hoped it was true.

Larr Gith gave her a long look. She was still a scared muddle. On an impulse Ruth looked down at the dark-haired man the Jedi was defending. "Huh. He's cute."

That finally dropped something into place over Larr Gith's raw uncertainty. She made a small squeaking laugh and suddenly flung the Voice's attack aside. "Yeah," she said. "You should see him when he's conscious."

They spun into combat together, blue saber and red, gleaming gold and polished black. Ruth had someone on her side, and for now it was enough. When the Voice puffed smoke and raised a dozen identical images of himself, an effortless gesture from Larr Gith dispersed half of them in a sweep of Force power; Ruth slashed through the rest until her sabers caught on the real foe.

Before she could land the death strike he raised his hands and stopped both Larr's and Ruth's sabers in place. They could press through, but it would take a moment. His red eyes shone as he smiled at Ruth. "I must thank you, Wrath, for your poorly hidden information on the conspirators. You can resist my command, perhaps, but your thoughts remain an open book. Once I read from your own mind who was involved and what they hoped for you, my Guard simply waited to obtain the full comm and docking codes for their Aegis from your personal ship. Soon your rebellion will be utterly destroyed."

Cole.

The Voice of the Emperor smiled wider. "Now kill me, Wrath. And see what good it does you. I still have your son."

Must she lose someone for every one she saved? Ruth killed the Voice, and it felt nothing like a victory. Enough. She had to move.

Larr Gith was already halfway across the room leaning over the strange man.

"Take him," called Ruth. "We have to move fast. The Aegis is compromised."

A door slammed open. Lord Scourge led Jaesa and a couple of wounded soldiers in. Scourge took a quick look around the room, then turned to Ruth. "Wynston?" said Scourge.

"Critically wounded. I don't know…he's in kolto. I'm no healer, I don't know."

They got moving, the remainder of their forces falling in behind her. She fell into step with Larr Gith and took her companion's other arm to support him. And to speed them up. The man seemed somewhere between exhausted and half dead. "Friend of yours?" she asked Larr.

"Yes," said the Jedi. She had fully recovered her composure. "They took him, I don't know how long ago. Just to use against me if I ever tried to make trouble."

"It doesn't seem to have stopped you."

The Jedi set her jaw. "No. It didn't. Someone around here's got to keep a m–" She actually had enough sense to cut off there. She had definitely changed some since Ruth had last met her.

It was in the hangar outside Ruth's ship that her holo rang. Her stomach knotted up. Word from the Aegis?

It wasn't. Ruth stared. "…Quinn. What do you want?"

"My lord." He seemed agitated. "Are you all right?"

"What? Yes."

"Where's Colrand?"

"He's with my people." On the Aegis.

"I've received an emergency signal from him."

Her heart seized up. "How?"

"Shortly after Colrand came on board I gave him a transponder so he could call home. In case of an emergency. He seems unable to open a full comm channel, but the emergency signal has been issued and its tracker activated. Where are your people taking him?"

"He was supposed to stay put. The Emperor found his location. Where is his signal? Give me coordinates, tell me where to meet you. I'll be there as soon as I can. With reinforcements."

He pulled out a datapad. "Uploading now." Then he set it aside and continued. "I've been forced to withdraw from the Tenacity, but my vessel here is faster anyway. I'll meet you as soon as I can."

Meet her to see whether her failure had gotten their son killed. "Quinn," she said, "this isn't what I intended." Obviously. "I'm sorry."

"He would have been no safer here while you worked. We will see him to safety, my lord."

She nodded more steadily than she was feeling. "I'm on my way." Then she pocketed the holo and stalked up the ramp. Lord Scourge shadowed her.

"Can that one be trusted?" said the great Sith.

"In this? Yes."

"I will take the coordinates to the nav computer. If we are lucky, the boy is being brought to your master."

"That's not what I would call luck…of course. Do it." She waved him away.

Larr Gith had gotten ahead of Ruth, but she was moving slowly enough with her companion that Ruth overtook them both at the entrance to the medbay. The dark-haired man had a little smile, but it failed just for a moment as he sagged against the doorway. Larr wrapped an arm around his waist, looking uncharacteristically…unselfconscious…as she watched his face.

He grinned at her, then dragged himself on past the kolto tank. "Wow," he said, looking at the Chiss within. "Somebody's in trouble."

"Lie down," said Larr, pushing him toward the nearest cot.

"It'll take more than a kolto dip to fix that guy's innards. Is there a doctor on board?"

"He was it," Ruth grated through her teeth.

"Oh. I guess that means ol' Doc is up."

Larr Gith glared. "You're about to collapse yourself, now relax."

He shook his head and grinned, a smile that flashed defiance through his palpable fatigue. "Nothing wrong with me a little…a lot of…well, I'll figure it out, but it'll fix things just fine. Right now my patients need me. Someone help me get him out of there."

Ruth released the kolto mask and eased an unconscious Wynston out of the tank and onto the table. Doc looked him over and made several ominous-discovery noises, then suddenly ducked to one side and started rifling through the supply cupboard.

Ruth leaned in impatiently until Doc waved her off. "Relax, honey, I'm a professional." His hands were fairly flying through the cabinet as he picked out miscellaneous supplies and tossed them onto a nearby tray. He frowned. "Or, uh, my lord?"

"You can call me whatever you want, just save him."

He stood and grinned, his eyes brightening for a second. "I'll hold you to that."

"He always did recover fast in female company," Larr Gith said. She sounded downright affectionate.

Ruth watched Doc working. "He'll live," she said to him. "Right?"

"Oh, yeah. Might want to get him a good supply of reading material, he won't be leaving that tank for a while., but he will definitely have almost full use of ninety per cent of his – "

"He's going to be okay. Right?"

"Couple of internal organs might, might, keep little dents. Nothing that'll slow him down." He spared a quick look at her face and grinned again. "I know, if he doesn't make a full recovery you're gonna kill me or lop off parts or something. Believe me, if anybody can get this guy back to normal operation, it's ol' Doc."

"I wasn't going to kill you," Ruth said sullenly.

"Well, parts it is." Doc suddenly seemed to be working faster. "Sith, I tell ya. – Larr? Princess? When we get back to Republic space I'm taking a vacation from anywhere that has ever seen Sith. Just for a while."

"I've been to a lot of Republic space," Ruth muttered maliciously. This man was entirely too light-hearted.

"Oh," said Doc, not quite paying attention. "That's not as bad as I thought. There, that's one…"

One of the multiple knots in Ruth's stomach loosened. "When he is recovered, you will have my gratitude," she assured Doc.

"I see. What kind of gratitude are we talking? Because I should warn you I'm allergic to – "

"Immunity. Safe transport to your refuge from Sith, wherever you expect that to be. Credits." She paused, looked at his rounded shoulders and still-tired-looking face. She didn't know how long he had been a prisoner. "Peace, or the best places to find it. I know some of the most knowledgeable realtors in the galaxy."

"Peaceful sounds kinda fun," he muttered. "Now just sit back, honey. Your guy's gonna make it."

Wynston was unconscious but stable back in his kolto tank when Ruth's transport dropped out of hyperspace into a seemingly random spot between planets of some no-name system.

Ruth opened a comm channel to Quinn's ship. "There's…nothing here," she said glumly, staring into the empty space where Quinn had said Colrand would be.

"Proceed another klick in," came Quinn's voice. "It's a cloaking field. Once you are inside we'll start boarding the facility."

An electric shiver ran through the ship when it passed through the great stealth field. Inside Ruth saw a larger copy of the Voice's space station. A small shuttle with military markings hovered a little ways outside; it fell in with Ruth's vessel to land in a large hangar that sealed after them both.

She led her people out from her transport onto the hangar floor; Quinn came alone. They came to within a few paces of each other before they stopped themselves. They exchanged nods. She felt his fear, even though he didn't show it, and she knew he must know hers, even though here in public she kept it out of sight. They were both ready to do whatever had to be done.

"Moff," she said firmly, "these are my people. Lord Scourge. Larr Gith. Jaesa you know, and these others are employees of Wynston's." A little more sharply, "I trust them implicitly. Everyone, Moff Quinn, Colrand's father. If the boy is found away from the Emperor–" and oh, that presence was here – "let Quinn attend to it. If he is with the Emperor…" and the control that may imply…"then he's mine. Understood?" She didn't wait for an answer; instead she stepped away from Quinn to take Jaesa aside. "Where did the doctor get off to?"

"After you went to the bridge, he went to collapse," said Jaesa.

"I see. I guess he did his job. Listen, if I should fall and you survive, let Wynston know." She had a feeling she would need it. "Let him know I love him."

"I won't have to, Ruth," Jaesa said stoutly. "But I'll keep it in mind."

Ruth raised her voice. "This should be straightforward. We find a way in. Lord Scourge, Larr Gith and myself face the enemy. The rest of you, survive. And find my son."

They made their way into the stark grey station. They reached the long curved path that formed a full ring of the place. And before long they reached a radial corridor leading inward to the center of the station.

"That way." Lord Scourge nodded. "Our quarry is within. The rest of you, secure this ring, see that we are undisturbed. Larr, Ruth, with me." He strode down the radial corridor to the great chamber that was dimly visible beyond.

Quinn leaned in after them. "Jaesa, go on, secure the station's control center. I'll be watching here." He readied a gleaming black blaster rifle. "Go."

Jaesa nodded, signaled to the troops, and moved on.

*

Colrand greeted them, as Ruth had feared he would. The station’s center chamber was a huge open space, round, shadowy, with a dais in the middle and a throne on the dais and a monstrous, vaguely man-shaped shadow on the throne. Colrand stood at the base of the dais and looked anxious but determined. "Hi, Mom."

"Cole. Come to me." She saw Lord Scourge and Larr Gith fanning out to either side of her. "It's time to come home."

"That's not gonna work."

The Emperor waved and spoke in an ear-grating rasp. "And here we are, Wrath. Your son is mine. I will spare his life if you aid him and me in dealing with the Jedi and Scourge. Otherwise…I fear he will fight you to the death."

Scourge growled and charged the Emperor himself. Larr Gith activated her saber but looked to Ruth. "Got this, mama?"

"I've got it. You worry about the other guy."

"Just make it fast if you want in on the real glory." Larr Gith grinned and ran on.

Ruth kept walking toward Colrand. "Cole?"

"Kill her," called the Emperor over the sound of an opening Force lightning volley. "And any of her allies who show their faces."

"Cole. Remember those Force meditations we practiced?" He had neither the native power nor the training she did, but he had been around for her practicing her shielding. She could hope.

"Doesn't matter, Mom. Sorry." He readied his saber, the red blade inherited from the grandfather he had never known. "Just…don't argue, okay? Go with this. If we kill them we can go home."

"That isn't true, Cole. If we kill them none of us are ever making it home."

"You fight them or you fight me."

"I won't do either."

He leaped at her.

She had sparred with him any number of times before; he was quick, tall, rapidly growing into his strength. She still had the edge over him in experience and skill. But he was different this time. He wasn't going to stop.

She shot a flash of Force energy, seeking the strike that would knock him out with minimal pain. He deflected it with a wave.

The Emperor was playing Force-storm havoc with his two assailants; in raw power he could easily hold them both. Ruth didn't have time to think about that. She had to keep Colrand occupied.

*

Wynston held still when he woke up. Inventory: mostly unclothed, heavy breathing mask on. Surroundings: kolto. A tank, in a dimly lit room, no staff in sight. Last status he had was Ruth sounding worried. Ruth wasn't even supposed to be here. Something was wrong. Physical status: Pain. Missing some flesh. Light-headed. It seemed he had been badly torn up. This wasn't the stuff of slowing him down, this was the stuff of floating in place for days or more.

Like hell.

*

It took all Lord Scourge's hatred just to stand in place when the Emperor raised the fierce Force Lightning storm. Scourge sensed Larr Gith closing to attack, but the Emperor badly outmatched the two of them.

And the Wrath was still wasting her time.

Larr would survive another few seconds. Scourge turned away from the Emperor and toward the black-haired boy. Ruth had him in a pointless holding pattern; as Scourge watched she made some Force attempt to disarm him.

"No more distractions, Ruth," he bellowed as he raised his saber and charged her son.

"No!" shrieked Ruth. The Force wave emanating from her shoved the boy with impressive power toward the open exit, far out of reach. She turned to Scourge with flashing eyes. "I'll go with you."

And she'd best keep her focus. Scourge snarled at her briefly and they ran back side by side to join Larr Gith against the big shadow figure.

It could put out a lot of power, but between Larr Gith, Ruth, and Lord Scourge, it couldn't hold all of them off at once. The Emperor shuddered when Lord Scourge's first blow struck home. The ancient enemy flung up a hand and suddenly all three of his attackers froze in place, shadows springing up around them. The battle he couldn't carry in the flesh he could still pursue in the mind.

*

Colrand recovered from Ruth's shove and advanced on her again. She stood before the Emperor, sabers drawn, seemingly frozen in place. He screwed up his face and shoved his saber at her heart. The blade just glanced away; the shadows that bound her body seemed to protect her, as well.

He turned around and scanned the scene, and then something kindled in his eyes when he saw Quinn watching from the end of the entry corridor.

He made the approach slow, looking scared. "Father," he said. "It's time. Like you've been saying, about duty."

"Cole," said Quinn. He backed the boy around the corner, out of line of sight of the big chamber, not that that slowed him down. "Calm yourself. Remember the safeguards your mother taught you–"

"Mom didn't do a good enough job. That's why I'm here. Please, don't make this hard."

Quinn's hand was terribly steady when he trained his rifle and started firing at Colrand's legs. The teenager deflected every shot with an effortless grace. Quinn scanned the corridor, found nothing else of use. Kept backing away. Colrand was catching up, reluctantly but steadily.

"Don't do this," said Quinn.

"I have to."

"You don't. You can fight this, it's an unjust command, you don't have to obey."

Colrand shook his head, got to within a couple of paces, brought his saber up. "I was really glad to meet you," he said shakily. "I'm sorry it had to happen this way."

*

Ruth’s awareness fell into a place that felt separate from the physical throne room. Larr Gith’s presence was bright gold here, imbued with something stronger and steadier than Ruth had ever sensed from her before. Scourge was a hungering darkness tinged with dried blood. The Emperor was deeper than black, a cold hole in the world. She flung her will at him, and it was rich and strong, shot through with shades of blue: pale, cerulean, dark. She could hold it with one purpose. She sensed surprise rapidly turning to concern when she pressed her attack into the Emperor’s essence.

His counterattack lashed at her, cutting her with a pain more than physical. His will was ancient, malevolent, strong as the ages. Hers joined with Scourge’s and Larr Gith’s, determined. More than determined, in a way. It wasn't just necessity driving her here, it was everything, every hope she had, every joy she'd known. Against his raging shadow she wielded her gift, her will, her power; she was backed by a whole galaxy's worth of good things.

"Be careful," Larr Gith's presence cried.

"Burn him," urged Lord Scourge. "Burn him to ash."

Ruth observed both and then did what she needed to do. All her strength, her father's training, her son's love; the darkness whipped at her but her own will was cracking it in return. Little pieces broke and burned while Ruth and her allies pressed in.

*

Before Colrand could swing at Quinn the boy abruptly grunted and spun, flinging aside someone's jacket-clad arm. Quinn scrambled aside and readied his blaster while Colrand turned on the newcomer. An angry red mark had showed up on the side of Colrand's neck.

It was Wynston Colrand flung back against the wall. "Sedatives in," he gasped at Quinn. "Just delay him."

Colrand scowled. "You won't get that chance. I'm sorry, Wynston." He raised a hand and Wynston's chin was forced up, slightly, while the Force choke took hold. The boy's face worked while he squeezed Wynston's throat. "I'm really sorry."

Quinn had the beginnings of an efficient physical takedown, but Colrand didn't lose strength at the same rate he lost coordination. When Quinn grabbed his shoulder the young Sith turned and flung both the older men back in the direction of the great chamber's entryway, pinning them to the wall with a slow dual Force choke. He was crying by the time he lost his balance and crumpled.

Quinn, no more than bruised, drew himself up straight immediately. Wynston slumped to the floor, wrapping an arm tightly around himself. He coughed hard, several times; blood from reopened wounds started slowly soaking through his thin shirt. He sat gasping for a few moments before he met Quinn's eyes and said "You'd think…you'd never had to…incapacitate…a Sith before."

*

The corridors of the station were guarded, but only lightly. Jaesa, with the remainder of Wynston's soldiers at her back, had little trouble working their way around. They took the broad dimly lit command center, anyway to monitor external matters from there. Jaesa wasn't one to go up against the Emperor, but she could watch and wait, make sure nothing else pressured her champions.

She sensed the Force battle when it started and she stiffened. That would be the deciding factor. She could only watch her friend's back.

*

Quinn looked into the Emperor's chamber and its four unmoving figures. Then he looked at the unconscious Colrand. Then he looked down at the Chiss at his feet.

Wynston looked up at him, and rasped, and bled, and smiled a hard smile. After a few labored breaths he managed to say "So. You win." He pointed a finger toward Colrand and, beyond that, the Emperor's room. "Get it…right this time."

Quinn watched him. The officer's expression was rigid, his eyes calculating. "You dragged yourself all this way," he mused. "How hard it must be, knowing your last act was saving my life."

"Bugger you. Saved Cole from…killing his own father. Saved her…losing the only…only thing she ever…wanted." Wynston's lip twitched hard. "Don't waste it."

What little color there was drained from Quinn's face. "Too late," he muttered. He knelt to check Colrand's breathing again. Then he looked back at a dull-eyed Wynston. This entire uprising, the rebellion, Ruth's involvement in such an insane-sounding plan, it all reeked of Wynston. Colrand had proved unshakably fond of the man. And even now Ruth was saying, or had in the hangar, that she loved him. "'Bugger, you,'" Quinn quoted thoughtfully. "You always believed she deserved better than me."

Wynston groaned. "Must I die…drowning in…the obvious?"

Quinn sneered. He looked over at Ruth's frozen figure. Then at Colrand. Then at the blood slowly spreading around Wynston. "Agent," he said bitterly, "I don't care how you die."

Then he walked away.

*

Closer and closer, Larr Gith's gold, Scourge's black-red, Ruth's multishaded blue converged on the remaining darkness. Piece by piece burned or tore away. Ruth heard Scourge roaring in her mind. And she had others, nearer or farther, Larr Gith, her father's years of lessons, on and on.

It was with a sudden strange silence that the three wills met in the center and found nothing left between them.

Ruth fell back into herself and staggered backwards. The great chamber felt…empty. Her, Scourge, Larr, here, but the presence and the darkness that bound this place was gone.

Larr Gith was prettily recovering her balance. Scourge had fallen heavily to one knee. Now he looked up at his allies. "My task is done. I feel it." His eyes unfocused for a moment, a profoundly thoughtful expression on his face. "You will not see me again," he said at last, and walked out without another word.

*

Ruth saw figures at the far end of the entry corridor but it wasn't until she got close that she sorted out Colrand and Wynston, both on the ground. "Cole!" She knelt at her son's side. He was breathing deeply and evenly, but he didn't stir when she shook his shoulder.

Wynston…hissed. She scrambled to his side and leaned in to hear. "Sedated," he hissed softly, his eyes still closed. "He's…fine."

Her stomach twisted up as she looked over Wynston, his dark-soaked shirt, and the and specks and streaks of red on the trail he had left on the way in. "You shouldn't have come," she said.

"Job's…here," he rasped between labored breaths.

"If the job calls for losing you it isn't worth it."

His brow tensed and his eyes opened just a sliver. "You. Cole. Had to be sure." The last word was almost drowned in a wet cough.

"Hsh. Don't talk if it hurts."

"Talking to you…" he wheezed and turned his head aside. A drop of what didn't seem to be sweat ran down from his eye.

And there was nothing she could do. She didn't have materials for this. She didn't have skill. She had someone to send, at least. Larr Gith was coming up behind her. "Larr. Get to the ship. Get Doc, bring him here. Now."

Something sounded from around the curve of the outer corridor. Ruth pressed Wynston's hands over some of his own wounds and drew her saber. But the man who rounded the corner at a sprint was Quinn, followed by a desperately fatigued-looking Doc.

Quinn slowed to a purposeful stalk. He moved straight past Wynston, pointing as he went. "Deal with this one," he barked. "I'm not trained in Chiss physiology." He himself knelt by Colrand with a stim at the ready.

"Well," said Doc, unslinging a pack that looked to have been dropped on his shoulders rather than intentionally hefted, "for starters, Chiss blood's supposed to stay inside the body. When possible."

Quinn, without looking at him, grabbed a couple of datapad-sized bags of some clear liquid from their perch atop his bag and tossed them in Doc's direction. "This should serve."

Doc whistled. "You carry this much synthplasma around in your field kit? Exactly how much bleeding goes on in your average workday?"

"Use it or don't," Quinn snapped. He returned to his pack, which beneath the two hastily thrown-in bags was immaculately organized, pulled out some supplies of his own, and turned his attention to Colrand.

Ruth had edged aside to give Doc some room. He shot her a smile. "Relax, honey, ol' Doc can reassemble your Chiss friend – but buddy, I should warn you I have a strict three-strikes policy in any given twenty-four hour period. After this your spleen is on its own."

"Can you…?" Ruth said shakily.

Doc gave Wynston a critical look. Then made a dramatic face, then returned to the critical look. "Aw, I've fixed up worse. I'll tell you all about it when we're all comfortable, intact, and very far away from here." He got to work.

Quinn was checking Colrand's pulse. "I've given him a stim to counter the sedatives he was put under, my lord. It will take him a minute to fully revive."

"All right." She wanted to hold Cole until he was feeling better, but if she had a few seconds she also wanted to confer with Quinn. She stood up and beckoned him a step away.

"When did he show up?" she asked, tilting her head toward Wynston.

"Shortly after you were…removed, my lord. Colrand was pursuing me. The agent stopped him."

"Even though he had no business walking." She looked around the scene again. It seemed clear that for some period of time Quinn had been alone with an unconscious Colrand, a dying Wynston, and no other witnesses. "Thank you for getting Doc here," she said quietly. "It means a lot to me. More than I really know how to say."

He nodded once, sharply. "I know." His jaw clenched hard for a few seconds. "I should summon Jaesa and let her know we're finished," he said crisply, and turned away.

Colrand was stirring. Ruth settled at his side while he sat up and cast a wide-eyed look around. "Stars," he muttered. "Is everyone okay?"

There was a moment of silence.

Doc pointed at Wynston and said soothingly, "This guy'll be fine if we can convince him to stay out of firefights. The rest of you all probably just need a week or two at the beach and you'll be fully up to speed."

"Wynston," Colrand said thickly. "Did I…?"

"No," said Ruth. "Most of that was the Imperial Guard, and he'll be fine. Are you all right?"

"That was…I tried, Mom. I tried to stop it."

"I know." She pulled him close. "You survived, that's what matters." She caught the look on Quinn's face and beckoned him over, easing up to allow him to put an arm around their son's shoulders. "It's cold for a while. Unsettling. But it passes."

They waited then, Larr Gith joining them to gather around while Doc tended to the Chiss. When the human lifted a sedative Wynston waved it aside. "Rather be awake," he mumbled. "Stim if you…have. For just a minute."

Doc complied, and then finally rocked back on his heels. "And that, my friend, will get you to a kolto tank." He stood and gave Larr Gith an oddly nervous look. "Princess, it's been real exciting catching up. I, uh, I'm thinking of going home and sleeping for a year or ten, but you should call me sometime."

She smiled. "What's your hurry? I'll walk you home."

Quinn and Colrand stood together while Ruth moved to Wynston's side. She looked up at the soldier and her son.

"I have my own ship to return to," Quinn said quietly. "In other circumstances I would offer anew to serve you. Now, at last, there is no authority that could challenge that. But this is not the place, nor the time." His eyes flicked briefly to Wynston. "And I am no longer the person."

"We'll work out arrangements for Cole," she said. She looked to Colrand for confirmation, and he smiled shakily and nodded. "Whatever assignment you seek next, I hope you can make time for him."

"No question of that." Quinn and Colrand exchanged identical looks and identical smiles, weary but warm.

"The Empire does still need its officers," said Ruth. "I'll see that you are not challenged by any higher-up who thinks they can use your actions here against you. And…again, thank you." He simply bowed to her and walked away.

Wynston was making a feeble effort to prop himself up against the wall. Ruth helped him to sit up and then backed off a little bit. Her heart jumped into her throat when she met his tired eyes. "I don't expect you to forgive me," she said.

With a visible effort, he raised and held out his hand. When she took it he drew her in close and whispered, "Forgiven. Anything else is your call."

Her eyes stung. "Let's get you back to the ship," she said hoarsely. She scooped him up once more and let him drape his arms around her neck. "I love you," she said as she walked.

He rested his head on her shoulder. "Again."

"I love you. I love you, and I'm sorry."

"Just the first part."

"I love you," she repeated, and he didn't seem to get tired of it, all the way back to the ship.

Jaesa was already on board working the controls; Larr Gith and Doc were nowhere to be found. Colrand mumbled something about sleep and slouched off. Ruth brought Wynston to the medbay and started prepping the tank for him.

He watched her. "The stim's already fading. I'm not looking forward to going under again."

"I'm not looking forward to seeing you there," she said. "It's just until you're certified back in one piece." She turned to gather him up from the table.

He leaned into her, but when she lifted he said sharply, "Not yet."

"Wynston, you need to–"

"Ruth, not yet." He took a couple of deeper breaths, holding contact with her. "What's your plan for after we clean up here?"

"I hadn't really…" She hadn't talked to anyone yet. She hadn't talked to him. She didn't have the right to assume anything there. "I was thinking of going home," she said uneasily. "For a while. To set things in order." She leaned back and lifted his chin with a fingertip. "And you?"

"I've been thinking. Rather a lot, actually. If you're free I'd like to show you around my spy operation. I should've let a partner in a long time ago." When she started a tremulous smile he smiled back, brilliant and sweet in the suddenly breathless room. "And, darling, there's so much we haven't done yet."

So, stuff!

There are two parts of this that were hard for me, and those were a) Wynston bailing Quinn out and b) Quinn bailing Wynston out.

a) is relatively simple. Cole is talking/worrying/acting in controlled mode. He has to be restrained. If he did something to someone he cares about…so basically anybody except active gunmen out to get him…he'd never be able to forgive himself. Wynston knows he has to be stopped, even if that means saving Quinn.

b) is staggeringly hard. Why not kick Wynston's ribs in and leave him for dead? Sure, Ruth loves him, Colrand loves him, his stupid vigilante idea of everything was right, but…it's Wynston. I guess he did just offer up his life to save someone he hates for no reason more than that Ruth and Cole would want that someone to live (and, as noted in part a, the situation was too urgent to wait for a more elegant, Quinn-killing solution). Would Quinn really turn around and shiv that kind of charity? Yes, Malavai Quinn absolutely would.

But Wynston makes Ruth happy. Quinn can't be there for her anymore; Wynston can and is plainly willing to sacrifice to do it. Oh, plus the smallest chance of Ruth or Cole ever discovering Quinn had a hand in Wynston's death would screw him over. Hard.

So a killing blow might be too risky. No orders are in place, no commander watching to make things simple. He could at least begin to stabilize Wynston then and there if he wanted to; whatever he may claim he knows enough about Chiss physiology to do that and he could've gotten a start with the supplies on hand. But, ugh. No. Postpone the decision. Walk off for help – he'll want supplies from the ship for Cole in any case. Check Ruth's ship for that doctor she mentioned, because frankly, if Wynston must be saved Quinn would rather not have to be doing it himself. Walk off for supplies, and if Wynston's alive when Quinn gets back he'll reevaluate the situation then. If Wynston's dead, Quinn won't shed any tears.

Luckily for us all, 'stubbornly continuing to breathe' is a thing Wynston can do.