Ruth was standing, somewhere, nowhere, she couldn't tell. It didn't matter because Quinn was there with her, kissing her, his arms securely around her, his mouth warm and tender as it was the day he had first held her. It was impossible to hurt when he was here like this, and so without thinking too hard about why, she poured herself into it. She ran a hand through his hair, down around his neck and arm, thrilling to his touch. When his hand slid up her back she felt the snub-nosed blaster moving up to nestle against her neck.

She kept running her hands around his shoulders and back, kissing his lips, his cheek. "Walk away now," she whispered, not for the first time, "and I'll spare you."

His free arm stayed firmly, comfortingly around her waist. He kissed her nose. He repeated the familiar words. "I cannot do that, my lord."

"Malavai. Walk away." She should have said better words, smarter words, more persuasive words, but she didn't have any.

"There is only one way this can go," he reminded her.

"No. That wasn't true." She kissed him and left the script behind. "It isn't true, you don't have to do it. Don't talk. Don't shoot. Don't anything, just be with me."

He looked off to one side, in the direction she knew was the cargo hold and its prisoner in some world outside this dream. "Is that what you want, Ruth? I'm right there."

She shook her head. "Not with him, not anymore. Not ever. For him and me, after what he did, there is only one way it can go."

The light in his eyes dimmed a little. "So be it," he said, quietly, coldly.

She pulled him tighter. "He hurt me too much. But this isn't real. You haven't done it yet. We can still be together, I can still love you, at least until I wake. Let me have tonight. Please."

He kissed her, pressed her close to him, lightly nuzzled along her jawline to her ear. "No," he whispered, and fired.

I know this is the SHORT fiction thread but, somehow, I don't seem to be able to keep it short...sorry

She adjusted the rangefinder while going through the check list in her head. The HUD showed range, elevation and wind speed and she carefully moved into sniping position and calibrated the scope on her rifle – Range, 783 yards – wind speed 3 knots, west-northwest – elevation -4.1 degrees. She switched to 10x magnification.

Tracking her target had not been an easy task since it had been difficult to find it on open grounds but the open plazas of Corellia were good enough for her. It was certainly better than the ruins of Taris, where she would have had to be much closer due to the extensive amount of cover. Also, on Corellia, there were plenty of high vantage points where she could take full advantage of her skills and modified rifle. Longer barrel, recoil dampeners, higher calibre armor piercing ammunition.

It was not possible to attach a silencer due to its size but she knew she would need only one shot and, even if the shot was not perfect, the damage would usually take down the target. One shot and the target would go down like so many other times.

For most people, being able to decide a person's fate just by a twitch of a finger was disturbing. It had been like that for her too but imperial training and years of practice had built a shell which would surface every time she gazed through a scope and it made her callous long enough to take the shot.

She had wondered many times why such side surfaced. Was it some sort of defence system? She had come to terms with it and, in a way, she was thankful for it, knowing that she would not feel remorse after accomplishing a mission. Besides, these were the 'bad guys', Republic soldiers and officials that were plotting or taking action against the Empire.

No. She knew better. There were no 'good guys'. There was only friendly or hostile and it had been her task to take down hostile targets, targets that would not flinch or have second thoughts about killing her if she had been on the other side of the scope. And, yet again, her callous side had taken over.

Lining up her shot, she knew that another hostile would go down a few moments after she had squeezed the trigger. Another faceless soldier. Another threat.

She knew, after she had fired, the leader of Havoc squad would be no more.

She steadied her breathing. Her mind was focused. Her finger moved to the trigger. She held her breath.

“Agent? Do you copy?”

Her comm relay flared into existence. Her concentration slipped for a moment but she managed to regain her posture.

“Agent?” said the voice again. Anger flared at the back of her mind. Who was interrupting her? She hated being interrupted while on a mission.

“Agent, come in. Over”

She recognised the voice. Lokin.

“Copy loud and clear, Doctor” she tried to stay calm “I seriously hope that you have a very good reason for this”

A moment of silence followed, then “I do. Cancel the mission. I'll explain later.” he then added “Trust me, you will thank me. Over and out”

She sighed deeply, her shell slipping away. Looking one last time through the scope, the target had moved and the visual was lost.

She slowly stood and started gathering her gear.

*****

As she entered the ship's holo room she was in a foul mood. Lokin was sitting on one of the seats, browsing through different files and did not look up. She took a moment to straighten herself and, finally, walked towards him.

He suddenly looked up “Ah, agent. Please, take a seat”

She felt her anger boil up from within and was having a hard time controlling it.

“Please” he gestured to a seat around the table is his usual controlled way.

She could no longer contain her frustration “What exactly do you have in mind, Doctor?” she spat out the word. “You do know that I cannot be distracted while on a mission. The target is now on the move and it will take days, if not weeks, to get a lock once more.” She was fuming “Why are you doing this? What's gotten into that head of yours?”

He let her blow steam for a while, continuing to look at her with an emotionless expression, waiting for her tantrum to be over. When she stopped, he replied “Feeling better, agent? I could recommend some medication against stress. Something to help you relax.” he then added “After all, you have been under a lot of pressure lately.”

Again, she was lost for words. There was no point trying to argue as she knew he would simply brush it away. Sometimes she believed that there was a third droid on the ship, besides Toovee and Scorpio.

Dropping on the seat, she sighed and asked him “Why?”

“Why I called you back? Very simple. I have information that, I believe, you should be aware of.”

“Is it so important that you had to let the mission skip?”

“Yes, it is” he looked at her with a stern look, something she had very rarely seen before. She suddenly felt a sense of dread coming over her.

“First, do remember that these 'missions' are not compulsory, but are merely 'suggestions'. They are not orders since, as you are well aware, intelligence no longer exists. Therefore, there will be no superior to report to whether you fail or succeed.” he pause, judging her reaction. After a moment in which both stared at each other in silence, he resumed “Second, I believe you should take greater care when researching information on your target.”

She felt like she was being scolded, like if she was a fresh recruit and Lokin was the CO, showing her the mistakes she had made.

“Alright. Since you are all-knowing, please, do tell” she replied with a defiant tone.

“Agent...” he continued “...you may be a very bright, focused and successful former member of imperial intelligence. But...” he paused for a moment, still watching her, emotionless “...there is something that I have and you do not. Experience”

That last word hit her harder that she thought. Her eyes, which had been locked with his thus far, felt a need to look elsewhere.

“I know that it is difficult to trust people in this line of work. Heck, it is difficult to trust yourself at times.” he said, almost as if he had momentarily created an opening in his otherwise impenetrable defences, “I am trying to help you, agent”

She remained silent, feeling tired.

“I have seen many things. And much of what I have seen, would be enough for a man to take his own life” he expression changed once more, returning to that emotionless look. “I have seen the length to which both the Empire and the Republic will go to achieve their goals. There are no victims, only collateral damage. You, me, Kaliyo, Vector, Rayna....we are just assets, to be polite.”

Pawns. In a game played on a galactic scale where the ones in control had never to face the consequences of their actions. After all, the pawns were all expendable as she had known for a long time yet, she kept believing otherwise.

“Remember when we discussed your real parents?” he continued. She looked up, suddenly relieved that the conversation had steered away from the greater picture.

“Yes. Did you find something else?”

He paused. “How old were you when you had your daughter?”

Again she was not sure how this matter was connected to her parents “What? Why is...”

“Agent...” he said interrupting her “...just answer the question, please.

She sighed “I was sixteen. You should know that since you had access to more information about me than anyone else.”

“Precisely. As you are thirty-six, it is correct to say that your daughter is twenty. Is it not?”

“Yes” She shifted in her seat, letting her back rest against it “Is there more to this or are you just testing my math?”

“Do you know what happened to her?”

She felt a sadness overwhelm her. She knew nothing of her daughter, save for her date of birth and her name. She always thought that it would have been better for her to be adopted by a nice family, away from all of this sorrow. And so, she did let her own daughter be adopted, always thinking that it was the right thing to do. Imperial Intelligence is no place for a child.

But had it been truly the right thing to do? She could have left the agency to care for her daughter. Yet, she did not and that was something that left a wound that had never healed. Thinking about her daughter, made that wound bleed again.

“Please, doc. If there is a point to this, just...” she said with a whisper “...just say what you have to say”

He took a moment to reply. It was obvious to him that such topic was painful for her. “I still do not know how you managed to find such information. It was supposed to be...”

“Hidden away” he said, finishing her sentence “It was, together with other information which had such a high level of encryption, it took me days to work through.”

Silence fell in the room, the gentle humming of the ship providing a steady note.

“Whoever decided to hide this information must have a real grudge towards members of your family.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I will be brief, agent.” he stopped for a moment, steadying his breath “After analysing data and cross-referencing, dates, names, locations in both Imperial and Republic databases I found something interesting”

“Let me guess” a sad smile crossing her lips “You found the book of my life?”

“In a way.” he said, again, with that same emotionless tone “Some time ago...” he continued “...most of Havoc squad, as you are aware, the most successful squad the Republic has mustered, defected to the Empire leaving behind only two members.”

She wanted to say something but decided against it, letting Lokin continue with the history lesson.

“One member is a certain Aric Jorgan, a Cathar who, apparently, was demoted to the rank of Sergeant after the defection. The second member, instead, was assigned command of the squad and promoted to Lieutenant.”

She was getting tired of this “Why are you telling me all of this, doc?”

“I am merely giving you the information on your target. The same information you should have been aware of.”

“Why is this Lieutenant so important?” A lot of questions swirled in her head and most had no answers. “Did you interrupt my mission because he is someone I should be aware of?”

“Indeed.” he replied, unperturbed “And it's a 'she'”

Lilith did not like the turn this conversation had just taken. The emphasis Lokin put on the 'she' made her nervous.

“Assigned to Havoc due to her excellent performance as a cadet and showing promise, she was chosen to lead the new squad.” he paused, wanting to give her time to absorb what he had just conveyed. “Agent...” he resumed, readying himself to deliver what he was sure would be a blow to her “...whoever is pulling the strings, wanted you to kill your own daughter”

Pain. And this time she was on the other end of the barrel. “No, you're wrong” she said, breathless.

He simply pushed the files in front of him towards her “These, contain all that I managed to decipher.” he then stood up, waiting for her to recover. “You have made a powerful enemy, agent. I just hope it is only one.”

She was no longer listening as she sat holding her throbbing head. This was not real, it could not be. She wanted her daughter to be free of this, to have a normal life, to be able to grow, to have a family of her own, to make her own choices...

Denial was now controlling Lilith's thoughts. No, she continued to repeat in her head. No, she was not the Lieutenant Lokin had talked about and she had not been the target in her scope only a few hours ago. But there was only one way to tell. With an unsteady hand, she reached for the files and began to read.

wrenching mourning scenes.

Affection:

(This is set after Torian has been invited by Corridan Ordo to help take out a Republic Senator on Alderaan on a side companion quest)

Torian sat next to the fire, just watching the moonlight reflect off the water. Alderaan was such a beautiful planet. His mind wasn't on the beauty of the planet though, the silvery light was making him dream of a woman who's hair was the color of the light dancing on the water. Her tanned skin, and crooked smile. The look of satisfaction on her face when she ....

"Ner vod! You are a million parsecs away tonight" Corridan cuffed Torian lightly upside his head then dropped down on the ground next to his friend."I recognize that look, you are thinking about a girl. That dancer from Nar Shadaa? Oh wait, no that other one from the Enclave in Kaas City, that handler. Krysta? Oh she seems like quite a firecracker"

Torian looked startled for a moment, then he chuckled. "No, neither and you know me better than that"

"Yes I do, Its that mesh'la beroya you are traveling with. The one that won the Great Hunt, The one that the Mandalore adopted into his clan. You set your sights high my brother." He leaned forward to throw another branch into the fire. "pretty and with a warriors heart to boot." Corridan grinned slyly at his friend "Though if you really aren't that interested, I do love the challenge of wooing a beautiful woman"

The look Torian shot at Corridan said volumes. Corridan laughed and said" I hope you speak up soon boy."

"I don't know what to say to her. I love to watch her. Her smile, the look of pleasure she has when," At another chuckle from Corridan, "Out on the Range!" Torian protested. "When she gets the perfect shot! He sighed " I wish she would look at me that way."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Your father is dead,your honor restored. Heck he was a bounty that even the other Great Hunt winners could not bring down. And you have proven yourself time and time again with our Clan. We would have taken you in,even if you mother was not of Clan Ordo."

Corridan stretched himself out on the ground,"If if were me I would make her a big plate if Tiingilar,because if she can handle that,well...."

"I'll remember that" said Torian as he settled himself down to sleep.

Translation of Mando'a phrases:

Ner Vod – My brother

mesh'la – beautiful

beroya - bounty hunter

She lay in the floor in front of the fireplace, content in the warmth, the firelight turning her silver eyes molten. She could feel him against her back, playing with her hair. It had been a great evening, dinner and some dancing in their house. They’d laughed and chatted, enjoying being together. He’d told her he loved her, and gave her kisses. She could feel him getting sleepy, his weight against her increasing, his breathing evening out. Only problem was, now she couldn’t move without waking him.

He was the perfect man, she mused. Smiled readily, loved to talk, thought her cookies were the greatest. They’d walked along the stream this afternoon, the spring day making them lighthearted. She sighed, it had been a great day.

Corso entered the house and walked into the room, and had to smile. Their son lay sleeping on his mom’s back, practically wrapped in her hair. Miriah smiled up at him, and he shook his head. He crouched down and untangled Devin from the silken strands, lifting him up. “Don’t move,” he whispered to her. “He had you all day, I want you now. Just like that.”

Vashutarl was Varrel’s granddaughter, who died (he believes) at the Academy. I’m considering having her survive—via the LS Jaesa companion quests—and make her my JK. When I get around to rolling a JK.

Varrel carried the fussy infant out into the garden. They needed to sleep, the boy and Jaesa both, but they fed on each other’s irritation making rest, let alone sleep, impossible. Of course the child was Force-sensitive. He didn’t need Sith oracles or special tests to tell him that. Varrel knew, just like he knew his son’s brown hair, his blue (for now) eyes, and the birthmark in a place destined to make girls giggle, when he got old enough to be interested in girls.

He rocked the baby in his arms, feeling soft, toothless gums chewing on his finger. He was a father again. He had forgotten how much work a newborn was. Here by the pond, away from his overtired mother, Varrel felt the little boy relaxing. He would sleep soon, dreaming those shapeless dreams of babies. What a strange sight they must be. The Emperor’s Wrath, the man other Sith no doubt invoked to ensure their children’s obedience, walking barefoot in his garden holding an infant slowly falling asleep while chewing on his little finger.

Two thoughts followed quick on the heels of that incongruous image. The first: the boy must go to the Academy. Keeping him out too long would do him a disservice, denying the connections he’d need later as he grew to an adult, as well as invaluable experience in Sith society. The deadly games in the Academies didn’t end once you left.

Second: to ensure the first, he would find a way to lengthen his life beyond the Human norm.

This Vashutarl would be ready. This Vashutarl would survive.

Varrel smiled. Baby Vashutarl cooed and slept.

Remi stood before the Dark Council for what she hoped would be the last time. So far, the empire they built for their son was the same as any other Sith stronghold and they were careful not to interfere with the Council. Out of respect for the former Wrath the Council tolerated the former Jedi as his liaison.

Today, they openly mocked her.

She held her peace smiling slightly. Koa’s defection to a neutral occupation was, in her mind, a family affair and the Council’s comments were unimportant.

“Remi,” Darth Marr was always respectful and did not participate in the mockery. “I hope you realize your son’s choices mean you will no longer have a reason to speak with the council.”

“Of course, my lord.” Remi replied.

“But do you realize, Jedi,” Darth Ravage never accepted her as a Sith. “His chosen profession leaves him vulnerable, many still believe in him. A true power would still have to contend with the dream of a named Emperor. Eliminating him would be the wisest course.”

Remi thought Ravage must be getting on in years if he was willing to make such an open and obvious threat against her son to her face.

“And do you realize, my lord,” Remi countered her tone deceptively mild but a thread of ice ran through it, “That I have no reason now to align with the Empire and call myself Sith.” She tilted her head speaking directly to him, “And here I stand in the heart of Korriban before the entirety of the Dark Council. I’m amazed so many of you are here in the flesh.” As she spoke, she gathered her power and not simply for show, a tiny part of her hoped for a fight.

Darth Ravage scoffed but he shifted nervously, “You cannot take all of us. You would certainly perish here.”

“Perhaps,” she said softly without fear, “but how many would I kill and whom? Are you willing to test a mother’s love?”

She faced each Darth individually; some met her gaze, but most did not. She inclined her head and turned her back on them to exit the room, perhaps a challenge, or even a dare. They sat silently as figures turned to stone. It seemed they were not.

Once Remi realized her crew would contain more than just Jedi, she started resupplying on Nar Shaddaa rather than Carrick station. Nar Shaddaa was slightly more expensive but she discovered that carrying food Kira, Doc, and Rusk considered edible made for better tempers. If she never had to hear another argument over chocolate rations, it would be too soon. Another consideration was that the task that drove them all left little room for downtime, resupplying on Nar Shaddaa was the closest thing to shore leave that she could offer.

Remi concluded her haggling with the shopkeeper, she ordered spacer rations and some medical compounds Doc had wanted, she found a crystal on a chain she thought Kira would appreciate and enough blaster solvent to keep Rusk happily cleaning weapons for a long time. She leafed through a small book with a red and blue leather cover containing a few lines of poetry from different cultures. She had little interest in poetry but it reminded her of Tala-Reh, the Voss woman who had become a friend almost instantly and was lost just as quickly.

“Would you like to purchase that?” The shopkeeper asked his eyes flicked greedily from the book to her face, even newly printed books were rare and expensive and the Nar Shaddaa markup on such items made them more so. Remi smiled and shook her head regretfully, she would buy gifts for her crewmates and friends but a Jedi did not hoard possessions for herself. Seeing the sale of an item slipping through his fingers the merchant prepared his pitch but stopped short at the shadow that cast itself over them.

Remi did not need to glance over her shoulder to know that she would see Lord Scourge standing in the doorway intimidating everything down to the produce. She smiled a little at the shopkeeper’s expression as he scrambled to attend the ‘Sith Lord who deigned to grace the shop with his presence.’ Lord Scourge cast a mild look at Remi while the little man trailed after him offering samples of everything. She indicated with her head that she would be outside and moved to the seating area around a giant Hutt statue.

Scourge joined her not long after. She nodded at him but made no move to get up. They watched the drunken denizens of Nar Shaddaa carouse and fritter away their time. He eyed the packages filled with trinkets she purchased for the crew.

“Why do you purchase such useless baubles?” he asked breaking the silence.

She gave him a sidelong glance, “I think you know why.”

“Humor me.”

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, “Our lives are dangerous, if we find small pieces of happiness we should take them when we can. This stuff makes my friends happy.” She peered at him, as usual his expression was unreadable. “Does that sound ridiculous to you or something?”

“No,” he answered, “I just wanted you to say that before I give you this.” He placed the blue and red book on the table beside her.

Her eyes widened and stared at him then down at the book, “That is not a small gift, Scourge. I can’t accept that.”

“If you are worried about the price, it was a gift from the shopkeeper after he nearly upended a tray of samples on me.” His expression did not change but he seemed to be amused. “I believe I made him nervous.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You should give it back to him, those are expensive.”

“They are overpriced, but if you wish, then it is my book and you may borrow it.” When she made no move to take the book he picked it up and read one of the passages. “My tears fall to mingle with the rain/I envy its freedom/It may plant its kiss on any sail/And watch the living grass that grows.”

She seemed to savor the words for a few moments before speaking, “Pretty, why’d you pick that one?”

“It is of the Voss.”

“Ah,” Remi nodded with understanding. Lord Scourge liked to prod at her when her mood changed. He seemed to enjoy knowing what bothered her; he was probably saving the information to use later.

“You could do nothing to prevent her death. She would have died then or later when the monster Sel-Makor infected the planet.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s dead and as you said, there was nothing I could do.” She leaned back and stared up at the statue.

“I see. You are angry because you were powerless.” He concluded with a chuckle. “This I understand.”

Remi made a fist, she did not understand why this Sith got under her skin so easily. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, he was right of course. She hated feeling powerless, she hated being led around by someone else never knowing what was going on, and she hated losing her friends, but hate was not the way. She exhaled slowly, she would learn to accept her limitations, and she would celebrate Tala-Reh’s life and sacrifice. There is no death there is the force.

By the time she finished exhaling she felt better, not happy but better. She opened one eye to find the Sith still watched her. He lifted a brow, he had sensed her anger, possibly her hate, and he observed her as she suppressed her emotions. His eyes challenged her to say something.

She made a face and closed her eyes again, “Shut up and read me another poem.”

Scourge watched her for a moment her calm was no longer a façade. He did not care for the Jedi way, but her task required her full strength and he would help her to eliminate any weakness. He looked down at the book and read the next passage. “Love is water. On the lips, it quenches. On the skin, it caresses. When cold, it pierces. When in every breath, it kills.”

“Is that another Voss one?” she asked her eyes still closed.

“Yes.”

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Is that what love is like?” She opened her eyes and looked at him curiously, “You told me you remember the exact color of your first love's eyes. I assume you would know.”

“And you do not?” He asked with surprise, “You have never loved anyone? Not a pet, a family member, a friend?” The Jedi stared at him blankly. He sat back revising his opinion of the Jedi, “Your Council’s influence is impressive if they not only force you to deny your emotions but prevent you from ever having them.”

She frowned at that and sat back closing her eyes again, “Ok, then don’t tell me.”

His lips stretched into a smile she would not see. “They were golden, tinged with red. She bore the royal markings, and she was the essence of what it was to be Sith, power, cunning, pride. We met at the Sith Academy, she was a few years ahead of me and already on her way to becoming powerful. I loved her the moment I saw her, but I was not alone in this, no few Sith Lords kept watch on her progress to take her as an apprentice, the same went for her hand.” He thought back to the other acolytes who vied for her attention.

“She became the flame that I strived toward, the symbol of all that would make me worthy. I eliminated my rivals including some of her would be masters.” He smiled darkly at the memory, most Sith Lords would not take their own apprentices to their beds, it left them too vulnerable, but those who would were not wise and fell easily.

“We were betrothed before she left with her Master, but we would not wed until we were both established. I was sent to the outer rim after I graduated and became a Lord within two years.” He had already told the Jedi what happened when he returned from the outer rim and the series of events that led to their shared destiny.

The Jedi sat quietly after he finished, finally, she asked, “Do you know what happened to her?”

He shrugged though the Jedi’s eyes were still closed, “She died, as did everyone I knew from that time save the Emperor. I saw her once when her master met with mine, we could have wed but I no longer felt for her what I once did.”

“Did she?”

She did, Scourge thought at the Jedi. She came to me fierce with pride and hope, pride for the status I had achieved, pride that she had chosen the best, and hope that she would be the wife and mother of a line of powerful Sith, together we would rule the Empire. I destroyed both of those things that day. Scourge felt no remorse for what he had done, but he did not wish to share. “It did not matter.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

She opened her eyes and turned to him frowning. “Love sounds kind of painful.”

“Do you fear pain?” He met her gaze wondering how someone could live her whole life being compassionate and kind and never feel love or have it returned.

“I don’t think so.” She shrugged picking up the book of poems and leafing through it, “Maybe I should be grateful, being a Jedi and all I would have to choose. Half of these poems are about love lost or love betrayed or love unrequited.” She handed him back the book.

He accepted it and stowed it in a pocket. “Art is born of deep passions, love is chief of these.” He watched her intently, still wondering what was wrong with her.

She met his eyes but her expression was unreadable and not even a ripple of emotion surfaced, finally she shrugged and turned away to gather her things. “I wouldn’t know.”

The poetry is from the femSmug's romance line with Lokir-Ka. Yeah just sit back and imagine those words with Scourge's voice. Yep.

Also, when I first started writing Remi the Grey I toyed with the idea of Scourge's first love being Remi, but as I wrote it neither of them realized their feelings for each other until long after chapter 3 ended. That would not make sense if Scourge knew his first love was Remi and I like the idea of him having a whole other life and path that was ripped away from him during the events of the Revan novel.

Kaliyo yawned loudly.

"I'm really sorry we're stuck on this rock," said Wynston. "I called the bartender, but they won't be getting another shipment of any kind of spirits whatsoever until next week."

"I think the supply issue is there because we doubled the population of this stupid planet just by coming. Stars, I can't wait to get back to civilization."

"You and me both."

"There are technically a few buildings around here." Kaliyo sauntered closer to Wynston and smiled lazily. "You know, if I'm not distracted I might be forced to go out and make my own fun with some of that high-yield explosive gel we just got in."

Wynston rolled his eyes and set his hands on her sides, running down to settle on her hips. "You know, Kaliyo, you really don't have to talk me into such a distraction."

"Oh, I know, but I love the look on your face every time I threaten to blow up some poor innocent village."

"You would." He edged closer and said, very seriously, "I take this on as a matter of public safety."

"Agent, you take it on because you like it."

"That too."

"And this, my friend, is a gift especially for you!"

Rho looked serenely at the little glass case and its contents. Very, determinedly serenely. "How...nice," he said.

"That right there," burbled Doc, "is one shot glass for every species of dancer they've ever had at that cantina we saved from destruction last week. Each shot glass done out as a little gilded model of dancers of said species."

"Um, yes, I see that."

"Amazing, isn't it?"

"Doc, you know I shouldn't take this. I'm very grateful for the thought, but I don't exactly drink, and I'm afraid I don't have any place to put it." Rho had plenty of room in his ascetic quarters, but gilded nearly-nude-alien-covered shot glasses were not about to go on his otherwise bare shelves.

"Really?" Doc said.

"Really," Rho said apologetically.

"So...I should probably take this back," Doc said. "You know. To put 'em to good use."

A small grin escaped Rho's control. This wasn't the first such gift-for-Doc Doc had tried to give him. "Yes, I suppose you'd better."

"Works out for all," beamed Doc. He clapped Rho on the shoulder. "You're a pal."

I can't recall/figure out the exact circumstances for this one. But I'm thinking Kira may well feel upset between her encounter with Vallis and the resolution (?) of the Children of the Emperor matter.

Rho almost ran into Kira when she emerged from her quarters. She was carrying a sizeable pack.

"Kira," he said. "We weren't going to stay on Tython all that long."

Kira didn't look at him. "I, uh. I was gonna take some extra time. Away from people."

"I see. Are you going to be all right?"

She made a face, finally forced herself to face him. "Yeah, I'll be fine. This won't be a big deal."

"I know you're not all right now," he said simply. "But you're going to be."

She nodded. "Yeah," she said, without enthusiasm.

"If you'll be taking time off on Tython, may I offer you something?"

"Sure."

Rho beckoned her over to the holo and brought up a map of the area surrounding the Jedi Temple on Tython. Carefully, with some deliberation, he zoomed in on an area in the mountains nearby, finally picked out a spot and placed a marker there, then backed the view off so Kira could see the full path from the Temple. "There is a place here, locked away behind an ancient wall. There's a very simple activation sequence that will open the old gate. Past it there's a path to a spot that's just...alone. And beautiful, and peaceful. When I was a padawan and felt troubled, I always found myself coming back there to center myself."

"You're making that up. You're never troubled."

He smiled a little. "We all have hard times, Kira," he said. "If you want, I can give you the access sequence for that gate."

She looked at Rho, at the map, back at Rho. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

Rho pulled a datapad off the shelf and loaded the map onto it, then manually entered some notes. "Here," he said, handing her the datapad. "Use it in good health."

She reached out to take the pad. When her fingers touched his he immediately though calmly withdrew.

She looked from his hands to his face, her eyes bright. "You're hard to figure out, Rho. If anybody else were as nice to me as you are, all the time..."

This wasn't the first time they had sidled around the matter. "Perhaps it would be easier if you pretended I'm female?" he said wryly.

She laughed out loud. "One of the weirder Jedi recommendations I've ever gotten. It could work."

He let a little laughter into his own voice. "Master. Sister. Whatever you want to call it. You're my padawan and I want you to be all right. Go there, take all the time you need, and come back when you're ready. I'll be here."

Time period: late in Quinn's ghostly existence, post-Voss

"My lord."

"Quinn."

"2V's primary motivator has blown out, and since I cannot interact with matter myself I fear I will be of no use to anyone until Vette fixes it."

"Huh. Vette is helping you with this? Voluntarily?"

"I informed her that, since I have nothing better to do, I would follow her around talking until 2V was repaired. She has been working most diligently since then."

"Takin' a page out of her own playbook. Vicious but clever."

"I don't even have to follow through at this point. The threat and a thirty-second sample were sufficient."

"So what can I do for you while you're here?"

"I was actually wondering where the Captain Kaas hard-copy archives ended up. You know that one of the few things I can do in my ghostly state is stick my head inside comic books and single out one page at a time. But my usual reading material is no longer in my quarters."

"Really? Ugh. Bet you anything Pierce or somebody moved it to some hiding place the last time they went through hunting for the slave collar remote."

"You usually track your comic books quite closely, but Captain Kaas seems to be an exception." He tilted his head slightly. "In fact, I have never once seen you actually reading it."

"That's because I hate Captain Kaas. He is by far my least favorite Spectacle everything, and I'm including the X-folk in that list."

"Then...why do you possess the full print run?"

She shrugged. "You said a long time ago that you liked him. I thought I would put the temptation on the ship, first to watch and see if you actually do ever take time off – of course you didn't – and second so you would have something you enjoy if you did suddenly turn weird enough to want to relax."

"I see."

"You never touched 'em, of course."

"No. But after I died and before you assigned 2V-R8 to act as my hands, I was most grateful to have something other than Scarlet Nexu to practice reading."

"Scarlet Nexu might've broadened your horizons a little. But, yeah, Captain Kaas was all for you."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"You might consider notifying me the next time you do something nice for me. So that I notice it perhaps less than two years and one death later."

"Okay," she said, and smiled. "Tell you what, I can go yell at Pierce for hiding the damned comic books."

His eyes lit up. "You will?"

"Yup! Personal favor to you, I'll get good and mad about it."

"Y'all have a fine way of making a person feel welcome!"

Sana emerged from General Garza's office and glanced over at the ruckus going on at the entrance to the Senate Tower. Two armed guards were escorting a young woman carrying a bundle out the door. An angry wail erupted from the bundle as Sana started towards the exit, on her way to the ship to call in the squad from their shore leave.

"I just need to see the Jedi!" the young woman demanded as she was steadily pushed out onto the plaza. Sana stepped out into the fading sunlight behind her as the girl groaned. The crying intensified and the young woman's shoulders drooped. Her hair was slightly mussed, a stain of some sort had marred half the sleeve of the jacket she was wearing, and her eyes were smudged dark with exhaustion. "Now what'er we gonna do?"

"Looks like you've had a rough day," Sana said sympathetically.

"Wha'?" the girl said, distracted as she adjusted the bundle she was carrying, "Oh, yeah, rough couple days. Listen, you just came outta there...any chance you could get me in to see the Jedi?"

Sana frowned, "What about?"

"This baby, she's force sensitive, and her parents are dead, and I can't take another day of this!" The girl looked exhausted.

"I don't know if I can get you in to see the Jedi right away, but I might be able to help. What's your name?"

"Lara," the girl said, glancing over at her with a considering look, "Listen, could ya hold her for one second, I need to get some documents out of my pack." She practically dumped the baby into Sana's surprised arms. Sana automatically adjusted her hold, cradling the temporarily quiet infant in one arm. She shifted the blanket away from the small face and gasped. Solid red eyes look back at her from a sky blue face.

"This is a Chiss..." Sana's words trailed off as she looked up. The girl was nowhere to be seen. Sana's brows knit as she scanned the plaza until the fussing started again. A Chiss infant. Possibly force sensitive. In Coruscant. The crying intesified. Make that a grumpy force senstive Chiss infant in Coruscant. Poor thing. She looked back at the Senate Tower full of politicians and military brass and Jedi and back down at the baby.

"Let's get you some food and then we'll see what we're doing," she said to the baby who quieted at her words and stared up at her with an expression too self-possessed and sure for such a young face. Sana wrapped her back up and walked to the spaceport and the ship. She stepped into the ship, glad to be out of the spaceport crowds. The baby had started fussing on the way through the building, drawing a good bit of attention.

"What is making that noise?" Aric asked, appearing at the top of the steps. The baby immediately stopped crying and looked towards his voice.

"Never seen a baby before?" Sana asked him with a grin, pulling the blankets away from the infant's body.

"Course I have," he said, walking down the steps to take a closer look. "Is that a Chiss?"

Sana glanced from Aric to the baby, "Girl foisted her off on me in the middle of the Senate Plaza and then ran. Claimed she's force senstive."

A serious cry echoed through the ship. "Sounds like she's hungry," Aric said, lifting the infant out of Sana's arms and tucking her into his shoulder, "let's get you cleaned up and something to eat, little one." The soft whimpering carried over the rumbling conversation he kept up as he moved through the ship. Sana followed behind him, bemused, with a slight ache in her chest.

"You've done this before," she said, putting together some bits and pieces for a makeshift bottle while Aric tested the temperature of the nerfmilk substitute they had in their stores.

"Used to take care of my cousins," he said as he expertly juggled bottle and baby. He sat down and the deep sigh of a satisfied baby signaled success. Sana sat down across the table and watched him.

"What is it?" he asked after a few minutes, catching her expression.

"I wasn't..." she trailed off, blinked a couple times and took a breath before pushing on, "You'd make a great father," she said quietly.

"Hey," he said, gruffly, "come here."

She stood up and walked over to stand beside him, her heart heavy with what she couldn't give him. He balanced the bottle with the tips of his fingers and reached up to bring her down for a quick kiss. They both looked down at the baby who was staring at them as though considering something. Aric looked back at his mate, "You'd make a great mother."

The happy squeal surprised both of them, and they grinned as they looked down at the baby who had stopped eating briefly to smile at them. Aric repositioned the bottle, and Sana ran her fingers through the thick black hair that fuzzed around the little one's head.

"The girl said her parents were dead. Should double-check that."

"Think the Jedi would take her in?" Aric asked.

"Probably would foster her out for awhile first, don't think they raise infants at Tython. They might have trouble finding foster parents for a Chiss though."

The little one had fallen asleep, her limbs limp, exhausted. Aric handed her to Sana who tucked the little body against her and sat back down in her chair. She kissed the top of the baby's head. Aric cleaned up the bottle, looking over at Sana every once in awhile. He dried his hands and walked over to crouch down next to them.

"What are you thinking?" Sana asked, running her hand down his cheek.

He took her hand in his. "If she really is an orphan, what would you say to adopting her?"

Sana paused, thought a moment. The baby shifted a little, snuggling into her neck with a sigh. Sana looked down at her and then at her husband. "Have I mentioned how much I love you lately?"

He smiled, "Not since breakfast."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," she whispered. She laughed a little helplessly, "I don't know how we'd do it, but I think it's a wonderful idea."

Thank goodness for Havoc Squad. Cause without Elara's knowledge of Chiss physiology and Yuun to track down mischevious critters, and M1-4X never having to sleep, and Vik's ability to toss small children way too high in the air, they probably never would have made it through

It was on an orbital station, a quiet one populated only by passive droids, that Colran Niral found the rebuilt cyborg known as Lord Draahg.

“Stand aside, little man.” Draahg kept walking towards his own ship.

“I can’t do that. You’re going out there to harm my daughter.”

Draahg did a double take, then smiled widely, his skin puckering around some of the new cybernetics and the still only half-closed wounds beneath. “Lord Niral! Have you come here to be forgotten as she will be?”

Colran ignored that. “Darth Baras keeps his weapons well-hidden,” he said. “But I’m an inquisitive kind of person. I could at least find you. She defeated you once; you should have accepted her mercy.”

Draahg’s only reply was drawing his lightsaber.

Colran stood, slender and straight, dwarfed by the cyborg and unarmed. “It isn’t too late to turn aside,” he said.

“Oh, it is too late. For you.” Draahg activated and charged.

Colran stepped aside, Force pushing enough to keep Draahg off balance before he could arrest his charge. “Gentlemen,” he shouted.

From out the nearest corridor came a number of guards with blasters. They wore light armor with the livery of House Niral.

“Why bring an audience to your own death?” asked Draahg, walking toward Colran with all the inevitability of nightfall.

“They are my guardsmen and my friends. They’re what Ruth and I have that you don’t.” Colran lifted a hand, calmly deflected Draahg’s first swing, shot a stream of bright white force at the cyborg with his other hand. He raised his voice again. “If the fight turns against me, kill us both.”

“That sacrifice will be fruitless. I cannot die.” The red cybernetics that had replaced his eyes flared, and with a manic grin he leaped past Colran into the blaster fire of his guards. “Your slaves won’t blow us up anyway,” he called. “That isn’t how this ends.”

The first hint of distress flickered across Colran’s face. “Stop!” He flung more Force energy at the cyborg, lashing a cry of pain out of him. A few blaster shots from the other guards found their mark. Draahg snarled, cut down the nearest guard, deflected several bolts into another. When Colran’s attack intensified into near-paralyzing strength, Draahg stopped, tensed, growled, and suddenly flung the Force stream away in a burst of red shadow.

As Draahg continued his march Colran finally drew his lightsaber, activating a bright blue blade and running to attack the cyborg’s back. Draahg spun with a casual grace, throwing out a hand to Force throw the last three guards against the wall at backbreaking speed. He batted Colran’s attack aside and flurried into his own assault.

“So much for your friends,” announced Draahg. “You’ve already failed. Perhaps you’ll take some pride in knowing that your daughter will follow in your footsteps.”

Colran dodged some swings at speed, knocked the others aside in brilliant flashes of energy. He did not seek to match his physical strength against Draahg’s, trying instead to slip attacks around the bigger man’s guard while defending himself using nimbleness and Force power alone.

But the cybernetic enhancements made Draahg faster than he looked, and the raw dark power around him could fling its own counterattacks, and even a father’s love wasn’t enough against the strength Draahg wielded. The onslaught of brutality wore down the long quiet practice of peace, further and further, until one hard downswing sliced through Colran’s shoulder and bore him to the ground.

Even then he attempted another Force attack. Draahg simply kicked the fresh shoulder wound and then inflicted a matching one on the other side, cutting until Colran gasped and dropped the last of his effort.

Colran shook his head as he stared up at the cyborg. “There are still five who will do anything to keep you from her.”

“Oh, no,” laughed Draahg. “There are four.”

Draahg waited for Colran’s face to fully blossom into horror before he struck the final blow.

I'm a big doofus. This is set just as Ruth is finishing the Voss questline. Draahg's picked himself up after the Hoth ambush, and he downs Colran shortly before Ruth reaches Corellia. One of several ways that Ruth's run from Voss to Corellia ended up being unpleasant.

Remi stood packages in hand. “We should get going, Doc asked me to meet him at Club Vertica Casino.” She frowned as they made their way to the speeder shuttles lost in thought.

“Do you trust the Doctor?” Scourge wondered why the doctor would meet her there, she probably wondered the same thing.

“No, well yes, mostly.” She began then shook her head, “In a fight yes, in a healing tent or the med-bay, absolutely, but that whole making a disease so he could cure it and be famous, I don’t know, something’s wrong with that man.”

“I see,” Scourge did not know of the doctor's criminal ambitions and filed the information away for later, “Shall I go back to the ship?”

She shrugged, “Not sure what he wants there but I wouldn’t mind some help if he wants to poison a room full of high-rollers just to cure them.”

“May we kill him if he does?” He asked hopefully. He and the doctor did not get along. The man did not trust him and had made his dislike clear when Lord Scourge had replaced him on the last several missions.

Her mouth quirked, “Let’s see who he wants to poison first.”

They took a speeder to Club Vertica and she gave her name to the hostess along with the doctor’s.

“Is this your companion?” The hostess asked referring to Lord Scourge.

Remi wrinkled her nose at the question but nodded anyway. The woman showed them to a private lounge. Remi squinted into the darkness and felt along the wall for a switch. She pressed a button on the panel and soft lights like a star field twinkled on the high ceiling. She muttered something to herself about pushing the wrong button and tried another one.

Doc wandered through another shopping district looking for exactly the right gift for Remi. He asked her to meet him at Club Vertica and he was running a little late, but he instructed the staff not to let her into the room alone.

The Jedi had given him mixed signals ever since they had met, she rebuffed his advances, yet she was kind and always willing to help him achieve his personal goals, except for the disease thing. When she returned from a mission, she showered him with gifts. She was attentive, smart but not as smart as he was, cheerful, and she even got along with Kaliyo. He could only imagine the possibilities that held. She was perfect for him, he just needed her to see it.

He found what he wanted, a silk dress that would fit her perfectly. She would be pretty if she dressed right. He considered buying her lingerie but thought it would be too soon. He knew from examining her that she did not wear underthings that fit under the dress but wearing nothing would work too. He hummed happily to himself as he caught a speeder to the club.

He did not see Remi in the lobby. It was unusual for her to be late but he was glad he would have an opportunity to set up the room. He gave his name to the hostess, she looked mildly alarmed.

“Your guest is already in the room, sir.”

“I told you not to let her in the room alone!” Doc exclaimed angrily.

“She was with a man,” she stammered, and Doc felt a chill go down his spine.

“A Sith?” He asked hurriedly and started sprinting for the room before she could nod.

When he arrived, he knew he was too late. The door stood open, lights twinkled in the ceiling. Soft music played in the background. A table with finger foods and an assortment of desserts was illuminated by holographic candles. A hot tub bubbled in the corner, a swing hung from the ceiling, and a giant heart shaped bed had risen from the floor and rotated slowly in the center of the room beneath a canopy made of mirrors. Lord Scourge stood near the doorway, the Jedi lay convulsing at his feet.

Alarmed, Doc ran forward. The Sith heard him approach and raised a gauntleted hand menacingly. He slowed and realized Remi was curled on her side wheezing with laughter.

“This,” Doc began, “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“You planned to seduce her in this room.”

“This might be what it looks like.” He conceded, “Look, can I talk to her alone? Please?”

Scourge looked around, he clearly wanted to get away from the room but he waited for Remi to stand. She nodded to him and he left, he did not look at the doctor as he walked past but Doc was certain he lost a few years of his life from proximity to the Sith’s aura.

He entered the room and closed the door behind him. He tried his most charming smile, “Well, what do you think?”

“Doc,” she said smiling despite herself, another hysterical giggle escaping, “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but this isn’t going to happen.”

“Because you’re a Jedi?” He asked stepping forward taking her hand. “I know you have codes and rules against this kind of thing, but the way you treat me, the way you laugh when we’re together, the gifts you buy me? Come on.” He tried to make his voice teasing, but he knew he sounded a little desperate. “You love me, admit it.”

She sobered suddenly, her face grew serious even a little sad as she looked past him at the door. “Yesterday I would simply have told you that I don’t think so. Today, I know that I don’t.” She squeezed his hand apologetically. Despite her words, he still held out hope until she rang the death knell for any romance by tiptoeing to plant a kiss on his cheek.

He let out the breath he had been holding and looked at his feet.

“Are you going to be alright?” She asked as she moved to the door.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She opened the door and stepped into the hallway where Lord Scourge waited. Nodding to him as she passed he followed her down the hall without a backward glance. Doc made a face and called after them, “Hey Remi?”

She stopped and turned, “Yes?”

He smiled nervously, “Do you mind if I charge the room to the ship?”

It was early morning, too early even for Elliah, but up she was, woken by the acrobatics of the child she was carrying inside her. She laid her hand on her stomach, after Avacynne she never expected to have any more children, she never expected to experience pregnancy and actually find joy in it. She had been a scared girl and Padawan of nineteen the last time a babe had stirred in her womb, abandoned by the man who had claimed to love her and presented with an impossible choice. It felt like a lifetime ago, she could have kept her baby, and she would have been expelled from the order, to a life where she had nothing and no one. She chose to give her baby over to the Jedi order, where she might have a life, and Elliah was permitted to continue her training. Now as a Jedi Master, Council member even, the order had given her leave to marry and have children, trusting her to stay true to the spirit of the Jedi code. As such she savored every moment of this pregnancy.

Felix rolled over laying a possessive arm across her chest curling his body around hers. Theirs was an easy and simple love, founded on uncomplicated joys, they were each other’s refuge in the storm that was the greater galaxy. Elliah moved his hand down to her bobbing and rolling stomach, and she smiled when the babe kicked at his father’s hand. It actually woke Felix.

“What?” His voice groggy with sleep.

“Baby says good morning.” Elliah whispered back.

Felix rubbed her belly affectionately, “shhh baby, go back to sleep.” His eyes were already closing, sleep reclaiming him. He was back to softly snoring in a matter of minutes.

The baby had no intentions of going back to sleep and decided to use Elliah’s bladder as a springboard. She was up, and after using the fresher settled on the rocking chair in the living room. She pulled out her yarn and needles, laying the finished part of the blanket over herself for warmth. She rocked quietly while she knitted, hoping the simple movement would lull her unborn child back to sleep. Felix found her some hours later fast asleep in the rocking chair. He laid the soft cream coloured blanket and needles back in her bag, and managed to gently lift her and bring her back to bed. He tucked her in softly, careful not to touch the growing bump lest he wake their already active baby again. He kissed her cheek and went to the kitchen, ready to start his day.

“Aaron?” Oriah knocked on the crew quarter door. She heard him pacing on the other side. “Aaron, open the door please.” The door unlatched and he stood in front of her, tall and imposing, gone was the warmth she was used to, his featured were cold.

“What is it Oriah?” His voice was ice.

“I…I’m sorry.” She didn’t know where to start, or how to talk to him like this.

“That’s nice, are you done?” He didn’t wait for her to finish, he start closing the door in her face, he was done being humiliated, he didn’t want her pity.

“Please Aaron, it’s not what you think…” She pushed her way in so that he couldn’t hide from her, although she felt like hiding from him and his glare. “He caught me by surprise…”

“He forced himself on you?” The look in his eyes frightened her.

“No!”

“So you wanted him to kiss you?”

“No! Yes…I don’t know.” She cried out, she felt hot tears on her face. “It was my very first kiss, and it felt wrong. There’s nothing between Cohen and me, I need you to know that.”

“Don’t cry, I’m sorry Oriah, please don’t cry.” His heart softened, he couldn’t handle a crying woman, he stepped forward and wiped the tears away with his calloused thumb. He was cupping her face in his large hands. “What am I going to do with you?” Aaron whispered.