A’tro sat at her desk in her office at the Imperials’ main base of operations on Telos. She re-read Jaesa’s latest report for the fourth time, trying to distract herself. After three days of grief and rage, a peculiar numbness was setting in. She was not sure what to make of it.

Someone tapped on the door.

“Enter,” she called absently. She heard her visitor walk in, the door sliding shut behind them. With an inner sigh, she turned around to deal with whoever it was.

“Reporting for duty, my lord,” said Malavai Quinn.

He looked rather worse for wear; his uniform was peppered with small burns, he had a bandage on one arm, and there was a nasty-looking bruise on his face. But it was him, and he was alive.

A’tro felt her mouth drop open in shock. “You made it,” she breathed, her heart fluttering.

“I apologize for not coming to see you sooner,” Quinn said. “I encountered Major Merrik on my way here, and she ordered me to report to the medcenter first.”

“If she hadn’t, I would have,” A’tro said, stepping closer to him. The tension of the past three days slowly ebbed away, leaving her feeling strangely buoyant. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”

Quinn grimaced faintly. “Yes. Well. After we were separated, I stumbled upon the Republic’s armory. I was able to use some of their ordinance to break through the base’s wall and allow me to escape, while the enemy believed that I had not survived the explosion. Not one of my better plans, I’ll admit, but—”

A’tro strode up to him, eyes blazing. She grabbed him by the collar, and yanked his face down close to hers.

“Don’t—ever—do—that—again,” she whispered, then kissed him.

After a long moment, she stepped back. Quinn was staring at her, a faint blush creeping up in his cheeks.

“My lord, this is hardly appropriate,” he protested.

“I couldn’t care less what’s appropriate,” A’tro retorted.

“My lord, please,” Quinn said in a low voice. “Don’t do this, not again.”

“What do you mean?” A’tro asked warily, her good mood disappearing.

“Considering how your previous attempt to progress our relationship beyond a strictly professional level fared, I’m surprised you need to ask,” Quinn replied coldly.

Anger flared inside her. “You’re blaming me?” she demanded. “You tried to kill me!”

“Only after you had made it perfectly clear that you wanted nothing more to do with me—”

“You think that justifies—“

“—and you were right to do so,” Quinn finished. “A Sith in your position cannot afford to be tied down in such a way.”

“Do not presume to dictate to me what a Sith can or cannot do,” A’tro said dangerously.

Quinn inclined his head. “I was simply recalling your own arguments in favor of ending our relationship, my lord.”

How was it that he was able to make her so angry? Already, her emotional control felt strained. The temptation to simply give in and let her passions take over was strong, clouding her rationality.

“I’m disappointed, Quinn,” she sneered. “Is that the best you can do? Throw my own words back in my face?”

Quinn drew himself up. “I have no interest in being toyed with, my lord.”

A’tro shook her head. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“I would not presume to question your motives, my lord.”

“Look, damn it, let me try to explain,” A’tro said, “What happened on Voss was a mistake. What you said…well, I panicked. I certainly never wanted to hurt you.”

Some indefinable emotion flickered across Quinn’s face for the briefest of instants. “Nevertheless, what you did was for the best,” he said quietly. “I respectfully ask that you not force the issue.”

A’tro folded her arms across her chest. Enough subtlety, she decided.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” she asked bluntly.

Quinn looked startled. “I—that is—my lord, that is entirely irrelevant,” he stammered.

“Is a simple yes or no too much for you?” she asked dryly.

“My lord, with respect, I will not answer that question.”

A’tro looked at him intently. “And if I order you to answer?”

“I…don’t believe that you will do that, my lord.”

“I’ve proven you wrong before,” A’tro said flatly. “As the fact that I’m still alive can attest.”

Quinn lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Which reminds me,” she continued. “Suppose I really am just toying with you right now, suppose I feel nothing for you at all. Why do you think that I let you live?”

“I truly have no idea, my lord,” Quinn murmured. He glanced up at her. “All previous experiences indicated that you are not inclined to show mercy to those who have crossed you. I did not expect to survive that encounter, yet you spared me.” He shook his head. “Your one mistake, despite your otherwise impeccable judgment.”

A’tro looked at him incredulously. “So you saw it as a suicide mission.”

Quinn shrugged. “I anticipated death, and believed myself prepared for it, my lord.”

“You—“ A’tro shook her head. “Don’t tell me you wanted to die.”

“Of course not! I simply don’t understand why you would let me walk away after what I did.”

“Because I love you, you heartless bastard!” she snapped.

Quinn stared at her, wide-eyed. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said grimly. “Although, considering your reaction, perhaps I ought to reconsider.”

Quinn took a deep breath. “My lord, this—this does not change anything. Resuming our relationship would not be a good idea.”

“Surely I’m worth a little risk?” she asked dryly.

Quinn frowned. “I have only your best interests at heart, my lord.”

“What if I told you that the impropriety of our relationship is nowhere near what you think it is?”

“It’s not about propriety. It’s about the dangers that emotional attachments can create in a life-or-death situation.”

A’tro rolled her eyes. “Quinn, you secretly worked for my greatest enemy for more than a year, then tried to kill me only hours after telling me that you loved me. If that’s not proof that you’re capable of detachment, I don’t know what is.”

Quinn shook his head. “No.”

I am Sith, A’tro thought determinedly. I have my pride. I won’t beg for him to take me back—

“Please,” she said. What? No! What am I saying?

Quinn hesitated. “My lord…” He trailed off.

“I thought you loved me,” A’tro said quietly.

For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to respond.

“I do,” Quinn whispered reluctantly. “But…”

A’tro cut him off. “Forget rules. Forget propriety. Forget practicality. Sometimes, you have to think about what you want, not what’s best for you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not going to spend the rest of my life dancing around this. We had something once, and I believe that we can have that again. If you’re interested, you had damn well better say so now. I will not give you another chance.”

“I see. You’ve put me in a difficult position, my lord,” Quinn said slowly.

She put her hands on her hips. “You have thirty seconds, starting…” She glanced at the chronometer on the wall. “Now.”

Either it was her imagination, or she sensed a flare of panic from him.

“Time’s running out, Captain,” she said after a few moments.

Quinn’s eyes darted around the room, as though seeking an escape route.

“Ten,” A’tro said coolly. Fool man, can’t you be irrational just once in your life? she thought. “Nine, eight, seven…”

He shook his head, and muttered something that she didn’t quite catch.

She continued, “Six, five, four…”

Quinn strode forward, grabbed her, and kissed her thoroughly, driving countdown, reason, and awareness from her consciousness.

About damn time, reflected the tiny part of A’tro’s mind that was still capable of rational thought at that moment.

Neither of them heard the knock on the door, or heard it slide partway open.

Shari Merrik glanced into the room. “Milord, I just—“ She stopped short as the scene in front of her fully registered with her brain.

“Um. Was there something you wanted, Major?” A’tro asked awkwardly, stepping away from Quinn.

Merrik’s eyebrows had shot up towards her hairline. “I was going to inform you that Quinn was back, milord, but it seems he’s beaten me to it.” She glanced between the captain and the Sith, looking embarrassed. “I’ll—I’ll be going now, milord,” she said quickly, and left the room.

“Well, that was awkward,” A’tro muttered. She glanced at Quinn. “I trust Merrik is smart enough to keep her mouth shut?”

“Most definitely, my lord,” Quinn assured her quickly.

A’tro sighed. “I have a name, you know—oh, never mind. I don’t want to deal with that right now.” She raised a brow-ridge. “So. I assume this means we’re picking up where we left off before Voss?”

“Whatever you like.”

A’tro struggled with the urge to beam at him like a love-struck idiot. Stay dignified, woman!

“My lord,” Quinn said slowly, “I admit that I have some reservations. If your enemies discover that we are…involved, they will undoubtedly attempt to use me against you.”

A’tro smiled grimly. “Let them try.”

“Your confidence is admirable. I hope you aren’t proven wrong.”

“Aren’t you cheerful,” A’tro said dryly.

“I’m simply stating the facts—“

A’tro cut him off with a kiss. “You can save the facts until after the joyful reunion,” she told him. “Understand?”

His reply was interrupted by A’tro’s holocom chiming over on the desk.

“This had better be good,” she muttered, activating the device.

Darth Nox’s image appeared above the surface of the table. “Hello, Wrath,” she said cheerily. “How’s Telos?”

“About as well as can be expected,” A’tro said, waving a hand. “Is there something you want?”

Nox shook her head. “The Dark Council will be meeting in two hours—I thought you might want to attend.”

“Of course. Thank you for informing me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Nox murmured. “I’ll see you at the meeting.” She closed the channel.

A’tro looked over at Quinn. “It seems I’d best be heading to the Alecto. I’ll see you later—actually, no. Come with me.”

“My lord?” Quinn asked.

“Once I’m done with the Council meeting, I believe that you and I have unfinished business,” A’tro said. A sly smile spread slowly across her face. “Business best suited to a more…private…location than this. Unless you’d rather not…?” she added, feeling suddenly nervous.

“No objections, my lord,” Quinn said hastily. “No objections at all.”

This was an attempt to move Quinn closer to what I would consider to be an accurate interpretation/portrayal of his character. Considering the amount of material from this draft that made its way into the final version, I think I was largely successful. However, something about this chapter still didn't seem quite right.

I finally realized that it just didn't make sense for Quinn to give in to his feelings so quickly. In the game, you spend ten conversations slowly drawing him out until finally in #11 he admits how he feels. In this story, A'tro broke Quinn's heart. It's been a year, but he's not going to get over it very easily. The fact remains that A'tro is a Sith, and he betrayed her once. She's guarded enough with her emotions that he has no idea what she thinks of him at this point, and having her suddenly give this declaration of love completely throws him off-balance. It makes sense to me that he would want time to regroup, to recalculate, and to try to figure out what the hell he's going to do.

And that's why I changed it.

Telos

12 ATC

It was late in the evening. Outside, the sunset would no doubt be spectacular, but A’tro had neither the time nor the inclination to admire scenery.

She leaned close to the map that the scouts had fabricated of a major Republic fortification. She had removed her gloves, and carefully manipulated the delicate holo with bare fingertips. If the Imperial forces destroyed this base, the Republic would have no choice but to call for reinforcements from offworld. Given the present state of the war in nearby systems, such reinforcements would not be quickly forthcoming.

A knock on the door made her look up.

“Yes?” she said, annoyed at being interrupted.

Quinn stepped inside the room, shutting the door behind him. He stopped well back from her desk and bowed deeply, then stood at attention. Strangely, he seemed to be staring at her hands…or was it simply her imagination?

She forgot that thought as she noticed that he had a fresh-looking bruise on his face, and a rather spectacular one at that. What had he been doing?

Best not to mention it. After all, what did she care?

“What can I do for you, Captain?” she asked, deliberately cordial.

“My lord,” Quinn said. “I would like to officially request reassignment.”

Déjà vu… she thought, almost sadly.

“Same reasons as last time, I assume?” she asked dryly.

His demeanor somehow managed to become even stiffer. “Yes, my lord.”

“I see,” A’tro said. In truth, her mind was whirling. This possibility hadn’t even occurred to her. It was a simple, elegant solution—an honorable way out, for both of them.

And yet…

“Are you certain that this is what you want?” she found herself asking.

Damn it, she thought, You gave him a chance, and he wasn’t interested. Quit pushing, or you’ll look desperate!

“I…believe so, my lord,” Quinn said slowly.

She raised a brow-ridge. “You don’t sound very sure.”

“My lord, I—“ He paused. “I must confess that I am somewhat…conflicted…on this issue.”

Well, that was new. New, and at the same time familiar. It was also nothing short of maddening.

A’tro rose to her feet and circled around the desk. Quinn started to take a step back, then held his ground as she approached him.

“I suggest,” she murmured, “that you make up your mind, Captain.” She told herself that she was going to stop several meters away, but instead found herself drawn inexorably toward him, stopping only at the closest that she could stand in front of him without being overshadowed by his greater height.

“Yes,” Quinn said almost inaudibly. He took a breath and tried again. “It’s difficult, but I have to believe that this will be for the best, my lord.”

“You don’t ‘have to’ do anything,” A’tro told him firmly. “This is your decision. If you wish to leave my service, then you have my leave to do so.” She took a step closer and looked up at him. “Regardless of…other issues…it will be a shame to lose you. You are a truly gifted officer, and your performance under my command has been exemplary.”

Quinn inclined his head. “I’m honored.”

Acting on sudden impulse, A’tro reached up to brush her fingertips across the bruise on his face. “You need to take better care of yourself, Quinn. You’re no use to the Empire if you can’t keep out of trouble,” she said teasingly.

He flinched away from her touch, and she started to lower her hand, feeling saddened and somewhat embarrassed. Before she could complete the motion, he reached up and grabbed her wrist. His inscrutable mask wavered, and she could almost see cracks appearing around the edges. Some unfathomable emotion burned distantly in his eyes.

He slid his other arm around her waist and pulled her against him in one swift motion. She was incredibly aware of how close they were, of the feel of his glove against the base of her hand, of the quickening rise and fall of his chest, of her own pounding heartbeat.

Please, she thought, throwing ambivalence to the winds. Please, please, please… You’ve gone this far, just kiss me, damn it…

Quinn hesitated for a moment, then did exactly that.

He was still holding her wrist; she wrapped her other arm around him, drinking in every moment like water in a desert. Forget denial, forget moving on—this was what she wanted, to be there in his arms, the part of her mind that was still capable of rational thought reflecting that if only time could be frozen in that instant, she would be content.

After a long moment, Quinn pulled away.

“I love you,” he said softly, giving her a smoldering look. “I will love you until my dying breath. And that’s why I have to leave. I’m sorry.”

He extricated himself from her embrace and quickly left the room, straightening his jacket as he went.

A’tro stared after him. “You—you—“ she sputtered. Words seemed insufficient to express her feelings at that moment.

Why do I keep letting him walk out on me like that? she wondered.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and exited the room, reaching out with her senses to pinpoint the direction of his hazy Force presence.

Quinn was walking fast, but A’tro was faster. She caught up with him before he had gone too far down the corridor. A burst of Force-enhanced speed was enough to put her directly in front of him, forcing him to either stop or run her down.

She drew herself up to her full height and stared him down. “How dare you?” she demanded. She kept her voice down, but made no effort to disguise her anger. “Where’s your respect, Captain? I am a Sith Lord, not some tart. You owe me an explanation.”

And that's where I gave up and decided to start over from scratch. Probably because I had no idea how Quinn would respond to that.

Why was this scene changed? Because Quinn was being annoying and out of character...as usual, it seems. I also had no idea how to continue the scene from where I left off, so I redid it. Upon rereading, it seemed very unlikely to me that Quinn would let his self-control slip so easily, no matter what A'tro said or did. The guy's a rock.

Quinn has a bruise on his face because this chapter was originally going to take place after his conversation with Arden Zariel where he gets smacked. Also, the constant mentions of sunsets in chapters involving Quinn are me being rather heavy-handedly symbolic. The posted version of this chapter notes that "it had been almost an entire local day" since the last chapter, which is a much more subtle way of noting that yes, this is happening at sunset without hitting everyone over the head with it. Foreshadowing, I am not great with it.

PS: I cried when Malavai died so much how I did when Ned Stark died.

Who won at the end? Emperor or Jadus?

Jadus won.