26. In which Nalenne asks Pierce a long-suppressed question

 

There once was a soldier who heard

That “authority” wasn’t a word.

He would win, and repeat,

Each objective complete,

But still flipped all his bosses the bird.

 

 

 

This is the best thing, it describes Pierce perfectly. Did I mention I love all things Pierce. I imagined that his first name is also Pierce and his parents didn't understand the implications of choosing their Legacy name.

 

Also, Servant Nine... sounds delicious, though I can't picture a flattering version of the "Hand Robes" on anyone.

Edited June 13, 2012 by kabeone

28. In which the Hand shows its hand (II/II)

 

A web of invisible threads

Links the Emperor’s network of dread.

The big guy’s command

Flows through Voice or through Hand

Then the Wrath hammers in what he said.

 

 

The crew was gathered on the seats in and near the reading nook, across the broad holo room from the hallway to everyone’s quarters. Vette and Jaesa played a long halfhearted game of holochess. Pierce was cleaning his blaster rifle, piece by small delicate piece. Broonmark was doing stars-knew-what with his translation datapad, using the edges of his proboscis because his huge clawed fingers weren’t sufficiently nimble. Ghost-Quinn sat and thought.

 

Hours passed.

 

“It’s just that he’s of the Emperor’s Hand,” said Quinn, out of nowhere. “We only know what they’ve seen fit to tell us. He could be capable of anything. It isn’t safe.”

 

Pierce looked sour. “If you turn this into a Team Baras talk, little man….”

 

“It’s nothing about the relative merits of employment. The Servants, personally, could be anything.”

 

“Sh-sh,” hissed Vette. “Look casual.”

 

They got back to doing nothing significant as the ship creaked and lowered its gangplank. Two pairs of boots sounded in step up the walkway. Nalenne, in a killer form-fitting hybrid of armor and evening dress, never broke eye contact with a flushed, smiling Servant Nine as they made their way to her quarters.

 

Vette and Jaesa exchanged hopeful smiles. Quinn stoicked fiercely. Pierce raised a pair of fine plasteel pieces and concentrated on fitting them together. Broonmark only blinked.

 

In time they heard a short sharp cry and a crash, then the sound of mad scrambling. Moments later the door to Nalenne’s quarters bumped open and a half-dressed Servant Nine stumbled into the holo room. Nalenne followed close after, belting her dressing gown as she went. “The first date? Demanding that on the first date? Really?”

 

“I heard you were into that!” said Servant Nine.

 

“Just because you heard a rumor that I liked doing it for some other guy does not mean I’m going to just get down and wipe out all Republic forces in the nearest star system with you! That’s a really intimate thing. I barely even know you!”

 

“It was good enough for your whole crew. Plus, I heard you got busy with Lord Draahg about ten minutes after meeting him.”

 

Nalenne sputtered. “And ‘what you heard’ is supposed to make me the Sith Order’s public battle mount? At least Lord Draahg respected me!”

 

When Servant Nine stepped toward her in a threatening and entirely too close way, Broonmark stood up and prepared to spring. But the tall Sith composed himself – as much as a man wearing boxers and one arm of a robe could look composed – and shot the crew a withering look. “If that’s what does it for you,” he said coldly, “no wonder we’re losing this war.” With that, Servant Nine swept out.

 

Jaesa darted to intercept Nalenne before she could go anywhere. “Hey, master. Don’t listen to him. You know high-ranking Sith are only after one thing.”

 

Nalenne looked lost. “I just wanted casual sex. Why does nobody ever look past the killing stuff to see that?”

 

“It’s okay, hon.” Jaesa hugged her.

 

“And I didn’t just go carry out kill orders for my whole crew the minute I met you guys.”

 

“I definitely never sent you to kill anybody,” said Vette from where she stood.

 

“Neither did I,” said Jaesa.

 

“Nor even we,” blorped Broonmark.

 

Quinn and Pierce exchanged accusing looks.

 

“And all of us, including the boys – “ Vette cleared her throat – “know you’re worth a lot more than just your combat skills.”

 

“W-well, yes, um. Of course,” said Quinn uncomfortably.

 

“I could’ve told you that,” said Pierce, somehow managing to glare even harder at Quinn.

 

“The thought never occurred to us, but it is obviously what Sith clan wants to hear,” said Broonmark. (Broonmark’s selective vocabulary lessons gave him a certain leeway in talking in Nalenne’s presence.)

 

“I hate everything,” sobbed Nalenne.

 

Vette took over. “Jaesa, go help her with a pillow fort, okay? I’ll find some cookies and the Duranium Man holovid. The one with that Pureblood playing Tonin Harsh, she loves that version. Boys, if you pressure her for ombat-cay ssignments-ay in the next forty-eight hours you will answer to me.”

 

The menfolk sat for a moment after Vette and Jaesa ushered Nalenne back to her quarters.

 

“I don’t understand,” said Quinn. “She never complained about me recommending critical strategic operations.”

 

“She made so many exceptions for you,” said Pierce, “it stopped being funny.” He spat. “Bloody Sith.”

Edited July 1, 2012 by bright_ephemera

Just thought I'd chime in with how much I'm enjoying this. Your characterization is awesome, I had no idea how you were going to work with the ghostly Quinn when you first started, but the tension between Nalenne and Quinn makes me hold me breath when reading, and the dynamics with the rest of the crew finally telling it like it is to him are fantastic. What a great story!

Please keep up the posting. I'm loving your stories, enough that I check this thread before playing my warriors everday

29. In which Nalenne reports to her sister

 

One Sith in the family tree

Makes it easy enough to foresee

Not all sibs will pull through.

Expand that to two,

And sororicide’s half guaranteed.

 

 

Nalenne locked the door to her room and carefully, quietly slid a packing case out from under her bed. She had left the item inside untouched for weeks, but by now she was halfway sure that Quinn was abiding by the eavesdropping rules. If she was quiet, no one would hear.

 

She lifted the mandoviol from its case and carried it to the bed. She sat down and cradled it, touching the strings, ever so lightly, to let the tuning pegs do their automated thing.

 

This was just about the coolest instrument anybody she knew played, and she fully intended to learn. When she had time. Which only really happened when her combat-effective friends were laid up with broken bones and kolto soaks. Going out without Pierce was difficult.

 

She called up lesson notes on the nearest console and started ghosting her fingers along the strings, just barely enough for herself to hear. Much better to make quiet mistakes than to make loud mistakes and have to kill witnesses after every practice session.

 

She nearly jumped when her holo rang. Hurriedly she set the mandoviol on the floor and answered on her console.

 

Her twin Niselle smiled her signature sinister smile. “Lenny! How are you?”

 

“Glorying in a messy part-time reign of terror. Yourself?”

 

“The usual. Scheming, exchanging assassination attempts with everybody I’ve ever met. Your refusal to participate is making people talk, you know.”

 

“Let ‘em. What’s the occasion for the call?”

 

“Just to chat. I’m curious about how your exorcism efforts are going.”

 

“Nowhere. That’s where they’ve been going. Nothing at all.”

 

“Don’t give up. You know you don’t want him around permanently.”

 

“I’m not so sure. It’s been great to have the tactical support back. And the company is…nice.” Nalenne considered. “Mostly.”

 

“Lenny. Do not back out now.”

 

“I was thinking about it earlier. If what he is is impossible, keeping or even reincarnating him is no more ridiculous than destroying him.”

 

“Tell me you’re joking. Banish the poor wretch. Move on. Stop by one of the Council receptions on Korriban sometime, you can meet some real movers and shakers. Attractive ones.”

 

"You think I haven’t tried? It’s not…nobody’s like Quinn. Nobody ever will be, not for me.”

 

"You only believe that because you're upset. And a moron. There's no such thing as love, dear." Niselle looked up at somebody coming in and started speaking very quickly. "Except in very rare cases like our own, how fortunate we are, Andronikos! Right?" The Sith rose to greet her husband.

 

"Our Wrath still wallowing in self-pity?"

 

"I'm wallowing in having cared about the guy I married." Nalenne glared at her sister.

 

Andronikos squeezed Niselle's waist. "A common complaint, from what I hear."

 

Nalenne smiled weakly. "Yeah. So what brings you here? More singles listings for me to browse?"

 

"Not unless you want 'em. Still stuck with the captain?”

 

“Yes indeed.”

 

“I’ve been talking with Talos about his artifacts in my spare time. Thought maybe some old text would mention effects like this. No leads yet, though.”

 

“You never told me you were researching this,” said Niselle.

 

Andronikos shrugged. “I thought it might help.”

 

“I appreciate it,” said Nalenne.

 

“I was only calling to watch her squirm, you know that,” pouted Niselle.

 

“You b****,” said Nalenne.

 

“If you two are going to make this conversation constructive, I’m leaving.” Niselle shoved Andronikos’ arm away and flounced off.

 

Andronikos scratched his ear. “Sorry. You know how she is.”

 

“She’s having fun with her Council thing, though, right?”

 

“Time of her life.”

 

“Good. Look after her, will you? I can’t have my whole family getting dead on me.”

 

“Not to worry. Look, if you make any progress, call me. Talos will want to know. He’s all right, even if he has refused to talk to you directly since the deflected-blaster-bolt misunderstanding.”

 

“Your blaster bolt, Niselle’s attack order. Don’t see why I’m the bad guy. Still, it’s appreciated.”

 

“Any time.”

Never quite pictured Andronikos as being a nice guy. I'm gonna have to wrap my head around this one. Keep em coming! Edited June 14, 2012 by MilaniGrey

Whew! Two weeks ago when the first inkling of Nalenne hit my keyboard, I typed…a lot. I have now posted all 26 of that first weekend’s sketches, mixed in with a few more recent ones. Publication from here on in will be more variable, as I must rely on the whims of Extremely Flaky Creative Mind for production.

 

I intend to continue writing, but the frequency is likely to drop to once per day.

 

If there are topics/planets/characters/scenarios you would be interested in seeing Nalenne meet and explore, feel free to suggest stuff! (Voss is reserved; I have plans.) I make no guarantees, since EFCM sometimes looks at writing prompts and draws a blank; but suggestions are always good to have around.

 

 

Never quite pictured Andronikos as being a nice guy. I'm gonna have to wrap my head around this one.

 

Ha! Andronikos is kind of a scary guy, but I imagine he would think that the Emperor’s Wrath has a pretty cool gig. I mean, as lackeys go. Nalenne and he could swap stories of thrilling raids gone wrong and mad revenge sprees gone right. Until they get on each other’s bad sides, I could see them looking out for each other, because when you meet a pretty cool person with pretty good skills, it’s nice to have some give-and-take.

 

Most significantly, Andronikos Revel is nice compared to Niselle. An argument could be made that he’s a better person than Nalenne, too. That perspective is important.

 

I had no idea how you were going to work with the ghostly Quinn when you first started

 

Honestly? Neither did I. But the concept called to me. Almost every word of SWTOR fanfic I've written to date has sprung from attempts to cope with the fact that I couldn't kill Quinn when I wanted to. So...if my fondest fantasy could come true, and I could off my favorite companion...but he ended up still hanging out on my bridge editorializing on my professional calls.......and then, a couple tens of thousands of words later, here we are

30. In which Quinn steps slightly out of character to get jealous

 

I say that today’s post is out of character. My Quinn complains a lot, and he’s pretty raw towards Nalenne. I prefer to think that he talks a lot about the grievances between them, what he expects from her professionally, and whatever bothers him that he can frame as strategic or tactical advice, but that his complaining mostly ends there.

 

On the other hand, this image made me giggle. And really, look at him. He’s lost his commission, his assumptions of reality, the very control and sensory experience of his world. He’s still trying to come to terms with what and where he is. He’s in a bad mood a lot of the time. And he never liked that Jedi.

 

A crew on a small enough ship

May find tensions rise on each trip.

Though secrets are few

Each imagines a slew

And expects confirmation to slip.

 

 

“According to my analysis, my lord, maximum damage can currently be inflicted on this moon in the Dantooine system. Dense enemy troop population, several city targets to blow up. Pierce and Broonmark should be ecstatic.”

 

“Excellent,” said Nalenne. “You know I could never manage this planning stuff without you.”

 

He looked at the hand she was unsuccessfully trying to lay on his immaterial shoulder. “Yes,” he said, “you always do seem to go for your opposites.”

 

“’Always’? ‘Go for’? What, do I have a pattern?”

 

Quinn frowned and looked out the window. “I heard you talking with Jaesa earlier. About the pros and cons of annihilating villages in enemy territory.”

 

“So?”

 

“You’ve grown remarkably…close, my lord.”

 

“You’re….” Nalenne blinked. Then she suppressed a laugh. “I should be close to my apprentice, don’t you agree?”

 

“Your favoritism is remarkable.”

 

“Favoritism.”

 

“Yes, my lord. You pay her a great deal of personal attention.”

 

“You’re jealous. You’re actually jealous of Jaesa Wilsaam.”

 

“She spends more time in your bed than I ever did.”

 

“You know we’re just watching movies on the holoprojector I shelled out to upgrade in my room. Also, Jaesa can squeeze me into her schedule for more than 10.3 minutes a day, unlike some partners I could name. I think the point three was the part that bothered me the most. Where is this even coming from?”

 

“When she fought you, you spared her life. Not mine. And you’re always staring at the…back of her robe.”

 

“You know how awful Jedi robes look when they’re not draped right. It’s kind of obvious. I let her know so she can discreetly adjust.”

 

“Whatever you say. My lord.”

 

“Why are you so mad about this? Did you not have a problem with that time on Dromund Kaas when I excused myself to run off with Lord Draahg alone for six hours, then came back drenched in sweat and giggling like a schoolgirl?”

 

“At least Lord Draahg was a real Sith.”

 

“Malavai – “

 

“See! You only call me Malavai when you’re desperate.”

 

“That’s not true at all. I also – that is, there were other….”

 

“When you’re desperate or when you’re having intercourse, or anticipating it. I consider my point proved.” He ground his teeth for a moment. “Both of us laid a deadly trap for you, but only I got killed for it.”

 

“Jaesa set up a lousy two Jedi, one of whom died in ten seconds flat, the other of whom…mm, that was actually nice, beating him and breaking his spirit.”

 

“See? Not only did you leave her alive after that setup, you actually found it pleasurable!”

 

“I am not having this conversation. Hey, Jaesa. Want to stay in my room tonight?”

 

Jaesa looked up from her reading. “Master, setting up an artificially suggestive scenario for the sole purpose of hurting Quinn is a sickening idea.”

 

“We can make a pillow fort.”

 

Jaesa wavered.

 

“And read classic Mynock comics and argue who made the better Mankababe.”

 

“Master….”

 

“If you don’t accept, Halee Robs will be canonically the best one. Way better than that sad Seline Hyle.”

 

“Fine. Pillow fort. Because you’re wrong.”

 

“You’re a dear.” Nalenne turned back to Quinn. “It’ll be an extra, extra sexy pillow fort, Malavai. Suck it.”

Edited August 22, 2012 by bright_ephemera

If there are topics/planets/characters/scenarios you would be interested in seeing Nalenne meet and explore, feel free to suggest stuff! (Voss is reserved; I have plans.) I make no guarantees, since EFCM sometimes looks at writing prompts and draws a blank; but suggestions are always good to have around.

 

I have one word...Comic-Con.

Best one yet! I love your version of Jaesa still being lightside after you "fell" to the darkside. Very interesting. Also, I think Quinn is having a bad case of blue balls, as well as feeling a little rejected that he got killed and Jaesa didn't. *shrug*

I have one word...Comic-Con.

 

...You asked for it. I'm splitting this because I dislike 1000+ word text walls, but the following three parts are one long cautionary tale on why you shouldn't put me on five-hour flights with nothing but a pen and a notebook.

 

31. In which the Wrath arrives on Ord Mantell (I/III)

 

Comics-heavy? A bit. One, they’re fun, and two, there are some interesting thematic effects when you transplant American comic books to Imperial culture, and I like thinking about that. I try to include all necessary context.

 

There once was a media giant

On comics and holos reliant.

Though censors at times

Called some notions crimes,

The publisher pushed on, defiant.

 

Ord Mantell.

 

It had bid for a Comic-Con a couple of years before everything went to hell, but the arrangements somehow pulled through. Nalenne snagged tickets because it was the first con in a couple of years that didn’t clash with the rampage schedule.

 

And so, one fine autumn day on the war-torn planet (which, really, was Nalenne’s favorite kind of planet), she took Jaesa, Quinn, Pierce, Broonmark, and one costume to the nearest spaceport. Vette stayed on the ship and mumbled mockery under her breath. 2V, for once, stayed behind to do ship maintenance.

 

Nalenne had opted to dress as Salla, a Sith who regularly sided with the Unbowed against their eternal enemies the X-folk. There were relatively few roles that a Sith Pureblood could convincingly pull off, so…Salla it was.

 

And of course every time she brought this up, Jaesa had to start arguing.

 

“Within a couple decades of their creation,” explained Nalenne as they walked (it was a fine day; speeders scarcely seemed necessary, especially since the parking would be a pain), “the X-folk went from a fun novelty to a power fantasy for the weak and disenfranchised of society. That’s the whole reason the censors hate it so much. If you’re a lowly alien with incredible, Force-rivalling powers…I mean, of course you’re going to use it to get revenge and to claw your way up the ladder to take your rightful place of power in society. That’s the Imperial way. The Unbowed in the series do it right. The X-folk? Seriously, being nice, trying to earn popular support with senseless, sacrificial work and weak diplomacy? There’s a reason the Unbowed crush them every time.”

 

“But the X-folk seek a more sustainable solution. A stronger galaxy for everyone through a combination of service and simply of live and let live.”

 

“Weak.”

 

“The X-folk would come out ahead in the long run if it weren’t for the prejudices of the writers.”

 

“The X-folk are terrible, and the only reason they work as villains is that they’re transparent stand-ins for Republic ideals.”

 

The con was situated in a huge volcano complex, which struck Nalenne as pleasingly exciting. When they reached the door, Nalenne presented tickets for her party.

 

The guy at the table checked them and swallowed hard. “Yes, er, my lord, we actually have a special attaché assigned to assist you this weekend.”

 

“Really? I like lackeys.”

 

He let out a breath. “Good, good.”

 

A short blond in a stupid-looking jumpsuit can trotting out of nowhere. He bowed in reasonable Imperial fashion, but when he spoke his accent was thoroughly Republic. “My lord. I’m Turin. I’m to see to any requirements you have while you’re here.”

 

“And try to keep me from any killing sprees.”

 

“If I can, my lord.” He had a winsome, self-deprecating smile. “Please, come with me.”

 

Nalenne admired the durasteel-reinforced archway they passed through. “This would make a killer resistance base,” she said.

 

“It did,” said Turin, “until Havoc Squad cleared out the separatists.”

 

“Ugh, really? Separatists had the right idea. I should go foment some rebellion after – ooh, check out the program, they got three of the original holovid Annihilators for signings!”

 

The day went pretty smoothly for the most part. Pierce and Broonmark were assigned to carry stuff, while Nalenne and Jaesa concentrated on acquiring stuff. There was one good panel previewing some of the upcoming Annihilators holovids, and another with an incredible load of Republic propaganda on creating morally interesting characters. Jaesa was captivated. Nalenne was half inclined to liven it up with a Force choking demonstration.

 

It was that evening, on the way toward dinner, when Nalenne overheard somebody in the crowd. “So then I said to him,” said some spindly Rattataki boy, “Blizzard could reverse engineer Duranium Man’s suit just looking at it and make a competitor in a week flat. He’s a Jawa, for stars’ sake; he could make Duranium Man plus ice beam with his eyes closed if he weren’t plot incompetent.”

 

Nalenne had heard the argument before. And it was a stupid argument. “Blizzard isn’t plot incompetent, he’s intrinsically incompetent,” she informed the stranger. “Have you actually met a Jawa? They’ll steal three pieces of real tech, select a few points to solder together at random, then take credit for any part of it that’s still working.”

 

“Spoken like a kneejerk Duranium Man apologist,” sniffed the Rattataki. His friends were backing away ever so slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice. “The fact is, every villain he gets is dumbed down so he can deliver one-liners without getting any attention-grabbing competition. It’s maddening.”

 

Nalenne’s palms itched. It had been a terribly peaceful day so far. “Maddening is people who have such a miserable inferiority complex they get desperate to tear down a fictional character.”

 

“Says the chick who’s getting wet over said fictional – “

 

Nalenne already had her saber out. The surprising part was where, in the time it took her to flourish and downswing, some stranger dressed in what appeared to be a masculine version of lame X-folk ally Doctor MacTaggan’s outfit whipped out a blue lightsaber and blocked her strike.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you hurt him,” said the newcomer in a voice like sinking into a warm bed.

 

Nalenne backed off, but kept her saber at the ready.

 

The newcomer relaxed. “I’m Rho,” he said. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.” He smiled gently. That face was handsome, for a green tattooed alien.

 

Nalenne blinked. “You are…who?”

Edited June 18, 2012 by bright_ephemera
annotations

32. In which Nalenne mixes it up with a Knight (II/III)

 

A Knight and his colorful crew

Saved the galaxy. We know it’s true.

Humility may

Be his watchword, but hey -

Let’s give him the credit he’s due.

 

This entry contains spoilers for a Jedi Knight companion's former job title.

 

 

The floor was rapidly clearing around Nalenne and the strange Mirialan Jedi. Both had their sabers out, but it hadn’t come to battle yet.

 

Nalenne’s local guide Turin cleared his throat. “That’s the Hero of Tython, my lord. He’s a bit of a Republic celebrity. Saved the galaxy and stuff.”

 

“Why in the Emperor’s name is there a Jedi Knight at Comic-Con?”

 

Rho tilted his head. “The guy who played Byssin in that 2 BTC version of X-Folk is signing. The laser-eye guy? Best X-folk ever. Why is the Emperor’s Wrath here?”

 

“Tay Vordage signing. Artist, you know? He did Dark Son?”

 

“Oh, yeah. Not my favorite visual style, but…can we put away the lightsabers now?”

 

“I think not.” She started scanning the room, checking for the people who looked combat-capable…and the ones who were leaning in to watch rather than backing away. “This is just too good a kill chance to miss.”

 

“I’ve got five,” warned Rho. He, too, was looking around the room. “Near as I can tell you’ve got…one very interesting entity…plus two and a half.”

 

“Half? Jaesa’s tougher than she looks.”

 

“I was referring to the ox.”

 

“Don’t you start on Pierce!” Nalenne charged.

 

Her support scattered to cover his. Just as well; Nalenne was looking forward to a duel with a worthy opponent.

 

After her first successful hit, some bright-eyed dandy ran up with a kolto probe ready to deploy. “You stay clear,” she barked, and Force pushed him clear to the bottom of the stage a dozen meters away.

 

*

 

Ghost-Quinn walked at an unhurried pace to stand over Doc. Doc, for his part, scrambled up and took a step toward Nalenne’s fight. “I would listen to her, if I were you,” said Quinn quietly.

 

Doc straightened his jacket, shot Quinn a disdainful look, then did a double take. “Wow. If it isn’t the Bastard of Sobrik.”

 

Quinn inclined his head. “Doctor ‘I’m too fabulous to have a real name,’ I presume.”

 

Doc grinned. “All that time on Balmorra, but I never thought I would get to meet you.”

 

“No, I believe you only made that effort for the female residents of Sobrik. You were personally responsible for some eighty-three security violations related to our female staff in a six-month period.”

 

“Violations couldn’t be helped, I only sleep with the bad guys if they help me bypass bad-guy security. It’s a rule.” Quinn sniffed. Doc smiled even wider. “I guess it worked, ‘cause those resistance fighters are still on Balmorra, and you’re, ah, not. Funny story, though, about how I know about you? We had a little cafeteria in one of our Gorinth Canyon bases. Not as swank as Sobrik HQ, but it was home. Had a man-size dartboard on one wall, we had kind of a weekly rotation for pictures of most-hated Imperial officers. You just kept coming up.”

 

*

 

Jaesa reached the edge of the crowd and tapped a redheaded Jedi on the arm. “Wow. Wow, I just have to say, I love your Tempest outfit.”

 

The redhead turned to face Jaesa. “Hi! Thanks! I can’t really talk right now….”

 

“Oh, them? Don’t worry about it, I think the duel is good exercise both ways.”

 

“You know that girl?”

 

“Yeah, she’s my master. “

 

Kira gave Nalenne a skeptical look. “She seems very…Sith.”

 

“It’s a long story. So that green one’s yours?”

 

“My very own Jedi Master, yeah. I should probably help him.”

 

“Well, I’m hers, so we kind of cancel each other out. Yours is cute.”

 

“He won’t hear a word of it. Believe me, I’ve tried. By the way, is your dress nanosilk? It’s got exactly the sheen I wanted for this costume.”

 

*

 

“Salla,” yelled some clueless member of the exhibition hall’s crowd, referring to Nalenne’s Unbowed costume. “Wooo!”

 

“MacTaggan,” countered somebody who recognized Rho’s X-folk costume. “Yeah!”

 

“Nice, an audience. Pity we can’t give ‘em main character fights,” said Nalenne, “you know? Everybody sees Jedi vs. Sith in real life. I would love to see the mutants, Byssin vs. Dark Tempest or something on the floor.”

 

“You do what you can,” said Rho.

 

*

 

In the shadows to one side of the stage, a tall pale figure crossed swords with a tall dark figure.

 

*

 

Pierce eyed a Chagrian soldier for a few seconds, then walked up close. “So I’m not supposed to blow things up today,” said Pierce. “And I hear you lot don’t like collateral damage. Hand to hand?”

 

The Chagrian looked up at him with zero sign of fear. “You got it.”

 

Pierce slung his blaster rifle behind his back. The Chagrian did the same with his assault cannon, to nearly-unbalancing effect. They got to work.

 

*

 

“What’s Kira doing?” grunted Rho.

 

Nalenne looked over to where Kira was chattering with Jaesa. “Aw. Padawan-on-apprentice talk.”

 

“Your apprentice looks kind of…wholesome.”

 

“Yeah, and your padawan looks like she still has some personality left. Guess we’re both bad teachers.”

 

*

 

“So that lady is the one who was kind enough to take you off our hands.” Doc nodded, faux-thoughtfully. “She’s got kind of a wild beauty to her. Unconventional. Raw. I like it.”

 

“She could kill you with a thought.”

 

“Is that a defensive note I hear? All this yelling at me for the crime of love, but I’m sensing a certain something.” Doc shook his head. “So that’s why you left. It figures. All that trouble, and it turns out the only thing we had to do to get Balmorra back was get you laid.”

 

*

 

Pierce had Rusk pretty much in a choke hold when he felt a sting behind his knee. Rusk coughed a small laugh while Pierce peered at the little astromech droid below. “That was a sedative,” said Rusk, “dosed precisely for a guy your size. I give you one minute.”

 

Pierce snarled, kicked the astromech droid aside, and tried to reestablish his grip on the Chagrian.

 

*

 

A whisper, a hiss, a vibrosword and a red saber in the darkness.

 

*

 

“Are you tired yet, Sith?”

 

“I’m just getting warmed up. You?”

 

“I’m thinking my friends still outnumber yours. Please, consider surrendering. You’ll be given fair treatment.”

 

“But the fight’s so much more fun.”

 

“Don’t you get tired of that? I have the last Emperor’s Wrath working for me, you know. There’s always opportunity on my side for something a little more satisfying than….”

 

“Hyah!” yelled Nalenne, and renewed her attack.

 

*

 

Pierce felt a sting in his calf. Rusk panted. “That was a sedative dosed for a dewback. I give you one minute.”

 

“Still got time, then, don’t I.” Pierce kicked T7, again. Then he grabbed at Rusk, swung, impacted. Watched and waited a moment. Frowned. “I just broke another rib of yours. Does that bother you even slightly?”

 

“The mission’s not done yet. So the hurt doesn’t matter.”

 

Pierce grinned. “If half you ‘Pubs were half as crazy as you, I might not fall asleep cruising through Imperial victories.”

 

*

 

“I love him, but he’s a little…uptight, you know? Like, too perfect a Jedi.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind a perfect Jedi.”

 

“I would offer to trade, but your boss leans a bit too far in the other direction.”

 

Jaesa did a little combination nod-shrug. “She looks after her own, though.”

 

“So does Rho. I’ll give him that.”

 

*

 

“I made three requests to make the Balmorran garrison single-sex purely because of you.”

 

“Yeah. I read those like fan mail. Slicing your systems, by the way? Very satisfying hobby.”

 

“I can’t wait to wipe that smirk off your face.”

 

“Why wait, big guy? Here, on behalf of your many Balmorran fans….” Doc wound up and threw a solid punch at…and through…Quinn’s face.

 

He withdrew, shook his hand, looked at it, looked at ghost-Quinn. “Now that’s kinda disturbing.”

 

*

 

Something stung behind Pierce’s knee.

 

“Quit it,” barked Pierce.

 

“That was a sedative dosed for a terentatek.” Rusk’s expression was developing a degree of horror. “I no longer have any idea how long you have.”

 

Pierce rolled his eyes. “Oh, screw the gun policy.” He deftly swung the blaster rifle off his back, spun toward T7, and fired a heavy round straight into its body.

 

Rusk was bringing his cannon to the ready, but at the very same moment, both Pierce and Rusk collapsed.

 

Vette took her aim off Rusk and struggled to balance her blasters with the bag she had slung over one arm. “Nalenne,” she yelled, “you left this on the table back on the ship. I don’t want to know its nerd significance but I thought – “

 

“Later, Vette.”

 

*

 

A high-pitched voice somehow separated itself from both the combat sound and the considerable babble of the audience. “But Mom, Duranium Man’s doin’ pictures!” A small child in a crimson metallic outfit came toddling toward Nalenne and Rho. “Just through there, we gotta go or we’ll miss it!”

 

Rho took a step forward with the obvious intent of restraining Nalenne. Nalenne raised a hand. “Hold. The kid goes through, then we talk.”

Edited January 22, 2013 by bright_ephemera

33. In which Nalenne leaves Comic-Con Ord Mantell (III/III)

 

A Sith on a VIP tour

May find that she’s watched more and more

The meaner she gets.

It’s safe to place bets

That she’ll wear out her welcome, hardcore.

 

This entry contains spoilers for a Jedi Knight companion's former job title.

 

 

Rho faced Nalenne while the little costumed kid and his mother darted between them. Doc came up on Rho’s left while they waited. A tall, handsome-looking Sith in dark armor came up on the knight’s right. Wow, where did a Knight like you find a hottie like that? Broonmark and Pierce were nowhere to be seen.

 

“I think it’s time for you to give up,” said Rho.

 

Nalenne remembered her surroundings. “Hello? Audience. X-folk? Unbowed? We can’t just leave that hanging.”

 

He scanned the packed room. “Did you have an idea in mind?”

 

“Can we bring in a common enemy so X-folk and Unbowed can unite and beat him and all walk away happy?”

 

“I guess? I think I saw a big Cosmoctus mockup backstage earlier.”

 

“Vette! Help the droid guy get Cosmoctus in here. No time to explain.”

 

“T7, help the young lady.” Rho looked from Vette back to Nalenne, then closed to resume saber combat. “You keep slaves? That’s disgusting.”

 

“What, Vette? She isn’t – I mean, she has a collar, and has to obey my every command, and she depends on me for her livelihood and I legally own her, but I wouldn’t call her my slave. Not as such, no.” For a moment the only sound was the swing and clash of sabers. “That sounded better in my head,” admitted Nalenne.

 

The ripple of excitement in the crowd was Nalenne’s first clue that the big blobby Cosmoctus figure was being rolled onto the floor behind them. She and Rho nodded and turned to the big figure. T7 had figured out some animatronics, wavy bits and lights flashing around the great planet-eating maw.

 

Attack.

 

Her mind raced. Rho was right, of course. With Broonmark and Pierce down, Nalenne didn’t stand a chance against what appeared to be an extremely prominent knight plus a Sith friend and whatever droid had managed to down Pierce. Damn it all. Time to find an escape route.

 

The prop went down fast, of course. Nalenne extricated herself from the wreckage to enormous applause. She stood beside the Jedi Knight and acknowledged it graciously.

 

Their crews gathered around them. Rusk and Broonmark were barely walking. Pierce was still crumpled off to one side. Doc started patching Rusk up while Vette and T7 attempted to deflect admirers. Jaesa and Kira were still chattering like best friends. Quinn settled at Nalenne’s side, while the tall Sith stood next to Rho.

 

Nalenne couldn’t take her eyes off the Sith. “Who are you?” she asked.

 

Rho grinned. “I mentioned. This is Lord Scourge, who was once the Emperor’s Wrath. He has found a better way. So can you.”

 

“I think not. Nice fight, bye.”

 

“Actually, Lord Nalenne, I’m going to have to arrest you now.”

 

Nalenne tilted her head and tried to decide whether Rho was serious. “I didn’t even kill anybody! Today. Yet.”

 

“It’s more on principle,” he said.

 

Scourge stepped forward. “No,” he said, in a voice rich with time and thought and something alluringly smooth. “One like this is best left on the loose. I think she does more harm than good to her own cause…and that buys us time for our purposes.”

 

Nalenne decided to give in and obviously check him out. “I knew I liked the look of you.”

 

Scourge frowned. “On second thought, arrest her.”

 

Before anyone could move, her little aide Turin trotted up. “My lord! My lord! Master Jedi! I – I have to – I have to ask you to, uh, stop.”

 

“I was done fighting,” said Rho.

 

“He was about to lay hands on me,” said Nalenne.

 

Only a Republic stooge would accept the victim card from a Sith Lord. “I c-can’t allow that. I’m going to have to ask you b-both to-to-to l-leave.” He looked about ready to drop dead from fear.

 

Nalenne shrugged at Rho. “Whaddya know. I don’t think we should bother these people any further.” Then she faced Turin. “Oh, but Jaesa stays. She’s getting her picture with Professor X if I have to kill every staff member here.”

 

“Is that a priority?” said Rho incredulously.

 

“Even Sith can care, frog-boy. I’m not going to ruin the con for her, okay? She can stay. Don’t hurt her. Or recruit her. – Jaesa, you won’t go with these guys, will you? You do a lot of good where you are, moderating me. Also I’ll come back tomorrow and kill everyone here if you go with him.”

 

“Understood, master.”

 

*

 

With some difficulty, Nalenne and a wounded Broonmark got Pierce moving. Vette ran ahead to bring the ship to the volcano for pickup. Nalenne stowed the merchandise she had managed to bring with her, then flopped into bed and thought about the soft-voiced Mirialan with the worrisomely good combat skills.

 

“He’s going to be a problem.”

Edited June 20, 2012 by bright_ephemera

Well done! It was like a stellar (haha) episode of South Park.....one of their celebrity wrestling matches, maybe....

 

Team Empire comes out about even with Team Republic in the one liner department.....I'm going to say Doc had the edge on Quinn, some of those comments are priceless. And Pierce taking out Rusk with his superior ability to metabolize sedatives...by the third sedation attempt, I was spitting my coffee out. Kira and Jaesa discussing their masters and Nalenne crushing on Scourge... I honestly can't pick a favorite part. Your socio-political comic commentary is spot on, and I love how you showcase the reasons a genius like Malavai would have ever fallen for Nalenne to begin with through it. I just loved the entire three parter, it was truly a showcase of your talent for characterization!

 

I can't say I'm sorry you were trapped on a plane with a pen and a pad of paper. May more such writing opportunities lie in your (and therefore, our) future

/claps

 

The SW vs JK team meeting...so good! Pierce vs Rusk was hilarious; I had tears by the time they both went down. And Quinn and Doctor "I'm too fabulous to have a real name", omg. Very well done!!

A change of pace as some parties on the Helicarrier actually try to get something done...

 

34. In which Vette and Pierce take Nalenne to Korriban (I/IV)

 

A planet built mostly with tombs

Seems a dismal locale to presume

That a student can thrive

‘midst more dead than alive…

It just has a bit too much gloom.

 

 

“Hey, Nalenne.”

 

“Vette?”

 

“I got you a surprise. Figured you might like it.”

 

“What’s that?” Vette’s surprises were usually expensive but always amusing.

 

The Twi’lek beckoned Nalenne over and onto the bridge, where Pierce sat at the helm, staring down at a hazy red world. “One free trip to Korriban, and an appointment with some Sorceress there.”

 

“Um…what do I do with that?”

 

“What you promised to do weeks ago. Figure out how to unload the captain.”

 

“Vette,” said Ghost-Quinn irritably from his usual station.

 

Uh… “Vette, that’s….”

 

“What needs doing? I know, no need to thank me.”

 

“I appreciate the thought, but….”

 

Pierce spoke without turning around. “Milord, if that man stays on board much longer I just might snap.”

 

“But we’ve been working great. Straight victories for the last few weeks. I didn’t think there was a problem.”

 

“I’m gonna have to side with Pierce on this one, my lord. Quinn tried to kill you once, and now he’s just creepy. And you promised.”

 

“Shuttle’s in an hour,” said Pierce.

 

“I don’t need you guys dragging me through this.”

 

Vette crossed her arms. “Then why is he still here?”

 

“I’m standing right here listening, you know,” said Quinn.

 

“That’s the problem,” said Pierce, finally getting up and turning around. He looked Nalenne in the eye. “Past time we fixed this.”

 

“I can’t believe this,” said Nalenne. “You’re staging an intervention for a relationship I’m not even in?”

 

“No,” said Vette patiently, “we’re staging an intervention for the past-due eviction notice on the guy who botched your assassination. The fact that you’re not in a relationship with him is just a bonus.”

 

“It’s not like he could do it again.”

 

“Not the point, Nalenne. You’ll thank me later.”

 

“I’ll thank you later,” Pierce told Nalenne.

 

“There’ll be thankfulness all around,” concluded Vette.

 

“So who am I supposed to consult for this thing I didn’t agree to?”

 

Vette looked to Pierce, who checked the nav console. “Overseer Ragate. You know her?”

 

“Oh, ugh. Crazy woman. Put me through this stupid blood divination ritual. My clothes stank for a week.”

 

“Was it a useful blood divination ritual?” asked Pierce.

 

“Told me I would need Vette to succeed.”

 

Vette beamed. “See? This woman obviously knows what she’s talking about.”

 

Quinn had a sudden coughing fit.

 

“It was one sentence,” said Nalenne. “She didn’t even mention you by name.”

 

“It’s better than nothing, milord,” said Pierce.

 

“You feel awfully strongly about this.”

 

“You feel suspiciously weak.” Pierce looked from Nalenne to Quinn and back. “Don’t go in for the touchy-feely stuff myself, so I’ll only say this once. I know what the captain meant to you, even if I’ll never understand why. I know half of you thinks there’s a second chance and the other half knows the truth and you’re keeping your eyes shut hoping not to face it. Won’t work, by the way, and the attempt doesn’t suit you. You need this push. We’re happy to give it. There, deep thought done. Sooner we solve this, sooner we get back to a good scrap, eh?”

 

“Wow, I’m impressed,” said Vette.

 

“I’m a talented guy,” said Pierce.

 

Nalenne looked over to Quinn. He was watching her with a perfectly neutral expression. Oh, thanks for the help. She frowned at Vette. “I don’t have to do any of this.”

 

“My lord? I am willing to set foot on Korriban again, land of the slaves and home of some of the least pleasant months of my life, if it gives us even the beginnings of a hope that something can be done here. That should tell you how seriously we take this.”

 

“I’m not going to parrot some blunt ‘How do I kill him’ as stated by suddenly-bossy you,” warned Nalenne.

 

“Just as long as you go, I don’t care what you ask,” said Vette.

 

Pierce raised a hand. “Uh. I care.”

 

“Not helping,” said Vette.

 

“You’re going, milord. Right?”

 

“Quinn’s a jerk and tried to kill you. Hold that thought,” added Vette.

 

“I guess.” Nalenne rolled her shoulders nervously. “Just Quinn and me. Okay? But I’m not doing another blood ritual. Those are gross.”

I have to say I love this entire series. But now I have no idea what I actually want to see happen. I'll just keep hitting refresh until you finish it.

35. In which a question is asked and answered for Quinn and Nalenne (II/IV)

 

The teachers at Korriban High

Are insane. But you’d better comply.

They’ll assign lots of stuff

On the “eek” side of rough,

But your options are “do it” or “die.”

 

 

The divination involved another blood ritual.

 

Overseer Ragate was a short slight woman, old beyond what most humans would ever live to see. Her robes were rich and crisp, seemingly sturdier than she herself was. She greeted Nalenne with an oddly disdainful laugh and a surprised tone. “Emperor’s Wrath, is it? How far you’ve come, child.”

 

“Still dragging acolytes through the red red mud here?”

 

“Ancient ritual. It’s respectable work.”

 

“If it makes you happy, I guess. So, I have a question.”

 

Ragate’s rheumy eyes fixed on ghost-Quinn, who was standing just behind Nalenne’s shoulder. “I know.”

 

“Right. Yes. Um, do you know what he is?”

 

“A blight in the Force. A thing that should not be.” Ragate looked back to Nalenne, her gaze suddenly sharp and bright as bare steel. “Your boyfriend, wasn’t he? It was the scandal of the week before the war started back up.”

 

“Yeah, I try not to talk about the boyfriend part. So….” She looked at Quinn. He raised his eyebrows a tiny bit and watched her expectantly. And once again, I say, thanks for the help. She turned back to Ragate. “I’d like to wipe him out of existence. Any advice?”

 

“You know the price of knowledge.”

 

“Do I have to? Can’t I pull rank or something to skip the bloodbath?”

 

“The skull, the symbol of death. The blood, the fluid of life. What better tools to divine what to do with a dead man?”

 

“I was hoping a polite question would do the trick.”

 

Ragate laughed an eerie shrill laugh, then jerked her head toward the high stone arch she was always guarding. “Get in there, kid.”

 

To the altar, which always had a full stock of human skulls; to the blood pool, which always had an intact wall nearby through which some weird monster that couldn’t resist the smell of skull-plus-blood was always ready to crash. The fight didn’t seem quite as difficult this time around.

 

When Nalenne emerged from the ritual room, a bloody skull in either hand, Ragate stared. “Give the skulls to me, child,” she rasped with a newfound intensity. The old woman accepted them and cradled them in her arms, watching as the stubbornly non-clotting blood trickled down through the furrows and fused joints of the bone.

 

Nalenne fiddled with her blood-spattered sleeves and wondered when she would be free to pick up the change of clothes she had left in an office around the corner.

 

Ragate chuckled malevolently and looked up to fix Nalenne with eyes turned suddenly red. “Ah, you will not be free of your human until you pay him what he is owed.”

 

“See, Quinn, you just have to pay me - what did you say?”

 

“Pay him what you promised, and he pays you, for your own vows were heard and your debts made binding. Only when they are fulfilled can he be killed.”

 

“My lord,” said Quinn diffidently, “this still ends my violent death. Are you certain there is no peaceful release option?”

 

The old woman cocked her head. “Are you a complete imbecile? We’re all Sith here.”

 

“Don’t mind him,” said Nalenne. “He’s been under stress.”

 

“I would suggest a smarter mate next time around,” sniffed Ragate. “I suppose at least this one is easy on the eyes.”

 

Nalenne giggled for about two seconds before she noticed something. “Wait, you’re giving a suggestion? I thought all counsel had to be paid in blood.”

 

Ragate’s eyes darted from side to side. “That was the last of the arcane energy from your current ritual.” She nodded down at the skulls in her arms. “Now begone before you make me angry.”

Meta: Notes on the series direction

 

: All right, everybody. Earnest But Inexpert Academic calls this head-faction meeting to order.

 

: And then bam, pew! And then she gets taken hostage by an uncontrolled –

 

: Extremely Flaky Creative Mind, please focus.

 

: Yes’m.

 

: We’ve been at this for a couple of weeks now, ever since…what was the precipitating event?

 

: I think it was the image of losing Vette’s collar remote so she’s kind of enslaved whether a Warrior wants to keep her or not. Then we combined that with that fantasy you haven’t shut up about for the last five months where you kill Quinn during the Incident, and it just spun out of control.

 

: You know you like it, Cynical Rakghoul Engineer. Now, EBIA, we’ve got a bunch more ideas on this story, right? Right?

 

: I know you’ll die without approval, Attention-Seeking Jawa, so you’re in luck. There’s plenty more; in fact, there's enough that I think we should start planning the shape of this story. Basically there are two paths this series can take: One, we go on forever. No one meaningfully changes, the crew keeps bumbling from silly occurrence to silly occurrence, and Quinn’s forever aloneness is a perpetual punchline that will never interfere with Nalenne’s love life or emotional wellbeing.

 

: All in favor, say aye. I live to see that man suffer.

 

: …

 

Aye aye, EFCM. Malavai Quinn deserves to suffer, because he is an objectively terrible human being.

 

: I can’t support that policy at all! I’m still kind of in love with him.

 

: We know.

 

: Even if we all voted to torment Quinn forever, the indefinite-continuation scenario will inevitably weaken, slow down, and probably start to feel like a writing burden. It’ll be difficult to impossible to maintain whatever quality level or tone we were shooting for. Not great. Our second option: We continue the overarching plot and actually bring it to a close someday. We wrote a beginning; now we write a middle and eventually write a real ending.

 

: Does that mean I have to end up giving Quinn nice things? That’s disgusting. Like really indulgent fanfic.

 

: We’re writing really indulgent fanfic already.

 

: …Touché. Well, EBIA, you scholarly types all know that "dying painfully, again" is a legitimate story ending. So if you want to get all structured on me I’ll keep working in the general direction of an overall vision. But I don’t have to make it something ASJ and you will like.

 

(Did you know there’s a 20-image limit on these posts? Bah!)

 

(Also, I finally actually rolled Nalenne as an in-game character. She exists!)

 

(Now with any luck, EFCM will get back to producing the fluffy day-to-day stories to fill in between plot points.)

36. In which Nalenne examines her vows (III/IV)

 

In the Empire, fine print’s no myth;

Read it well and your safety comes with.

Okay, that’s a lie.

Though on guard, you’ll still die

At the casual whim of a Sith.

 

 

Nalenne settled on the reading nook couch and looked up at ghost-Quinn. “Let’s suppose that the outstanding debt is something we both did at once.”

 

“That would narrow the search,” agreed Quinn.

 

“I know you swore undying devotion…in retrospect, maybe that was unwise…you swore it a few times, but I only ever returned it when we got married.”

 

“True.”

 

“Does anybody have a copy of those vows on file?”

 

“It was only slightly modified from Imperial standard 621.b.”

 

“Yes, but every detail’s going to matter.”

 

“It wasn’t my idea to change it at all. Furthermore, didn’t you save a copy?” said Quinn.

 

“Er, no, I don’t think so.”

 

“Then it’s a good thing I did. In the ship databanks.”

 

“One of your personal vaults?”

 

“Yes, one of the more heavily encrypted ones. I haven’t referred to it in some time.”

 

“Oh, I paid a slicer to open every last one after you died.”

 

“I see.”

 

“And reviewed the contents. And then wiped everything that wasn’t directly related to Baras.”

 

His eyes widened. “You deleted it all?”

 

“Yup, and double-overwrote where it had been. It felt good.”

 

“You erased our wedding vows?”

 

“I wasn’t exactly planning on using them again,” said Nalenne defensively.

 

“This might be the key to my ghostly state and you wiped it out of spite!”

 

“Bitter heartbroken rage. Subtle difference.”

 

“Did we leave a copy with the officiant, the Imperial envoy on Voss?”

 

“Doubtful, but we could ask.”

 

“If anything would cause inexplicable noncorporeal disturbances, it would be Voss. It was a vile place.”

 

“Don’t be so harsh,” said Nalenne. “We got married there, after all.”

 

“Yes, but the food was terrible.”

 

“Voss. We’re going.”

 

*

 

“Voss?” said Vette. “All right! They had the weirdest liquor I have ever tasted, and I’ve never been able to find it anywhere else.”

 

“That place was alive with the Force,” Jaesa smiled.

 

“Bggglok,” growled Broonmark, whatever that meant.

 

“Are we still banned from shooting the ‘Pubs there?” said Pierce warily.

 

“I think so,” said Nalenne. “But Gormak are still open season, unless they seriously decided to try to reunite the race.”

 

“Here’s hoping they didn’t,” grumbled Pierce.

 

“But it would be a great thing if they did,” said Jaesa.

 

“Killing is a great thing,” buzzed Broonmark.

 

“Do what you like,” said Nalenne, “I’ve got my own business to handle. Just don’t tell me if you do anything illegal, okay? And don’t get caught.”

 

“Sith clan kills witnesses,” quorked Broonmark cheerfully.

 

“What he said…I think,” said Pierce.

 

“I can guess: Kill killy kill kill,” said Vette.

 

“Hey, that’s not necessarily what he said,” said Nalenne. “Give the Talz some credit.”

 

Vette gave Nalenne a Look.

 

“Okay, it’s what he said.”

 

“Thought so. Let’s go already. There’s a shot of lonoren out there with my name on it.”

I actually clapped today when i saw there were new stories here! Yay!!

This is awesome. I was kinda sulking after Thursday Morning Wrath was ending but found this today. This is funny and definatally puts the Wrath in a new light.

37. In which the crew seeks Voss answers (IV/IV)

 

The Voss are a curious race

From a curious curious place.

Though in attitude they’re

Undeniably square,

All their talk is a circular chase.

 

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHPANICPANIC,” said Nalenne.

 

“Ease up,” said Pierce, hunching over the flight controls.

 

THUD whaackCK shSHshew shew said the strange weaponry impacting on the S.A.B.E.R. Helicarrier’s hull.

 

“I thought Voss liked us!” said Nalenne.

 

Jaesa looked up from the secondary nav console and made a prim little hm noise. “They might have found out about that time we hunted down and assassinated the Jedi envoy, then spent several weeks sabotaging Republic efforts with no regard for Voss life before twisting the truth on the greatest historical discovery of our time for the sole purpose of making the Jedi look bad.”

 

“Or maybe they just caught a few words out of the other side of Darth Serevin’s mouth,” said Vette. “We weren’t the only Imperial jerks on Voss.”

 

“Their weaponry is impressive,” said Broonmark. “We envy their power and precision.”

 

“This isn’t fair!” said Nalenne. “We parted in friendship!”

 

“I think you parted from the invisible dead guy in friendship, milord,” said Pierce, cutting another sharply angled maneuver and snarling as the ship got another glancing hit anyway. “You parted from Voss-Ka at large with a certain ‘We haven’t decided whether we hate you yet.’”

 

“Looks like they made up their minds,” said Vette.

 

Broonmark activated his vibroblade, which on the crowded and violently shaking bridge drew more than one anguished stare. “We do not wish to die without a weapon in our hands.”

 

sccccrack. Another impact tore something off. The something scraped down the length of the ship before falling away.

 

“After all this time, lieutenant, you still pilot like a drunken gundark,” said ghost-Quinn.

 

“Funny, because I don’t see you stepping in. Jaesa, hyperspace route?”

 

The girl nodded. “Just now. Hit it.”

 

Most of the S.A.B.E.R. Helicarrier streaked into hyperspace.

 

*

 

Nalenne set her fists on her hips and yelled at the holo. “I want to speak to your manager.”

 

“Y-yes, my lord,” said the unfortunate receptionist at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He brought a lean Zabrak into the holocall and cut himself out.

 

The Zabrak bowed. “My lord,” he said. “To what do I owe the honor?”

 

“Why did Voss try to shoot me out of the sky?”

 

“We have a travel advisory set on Voss, my lord….”

 

“I’m the Emperor’s Wrath!”

 

“They’re not on speaking terms with anything Imperial or Sith.”

 

“No one opens fire on the Emperor’s Wrath and lives! We’re going back there! We’re punching their stupid Mystics in the face! We’re tearing those stupid ion cannons apart piece by piece, killing their precious Three, building a replica of the Citadel on the rubble of their dumb Tower, putting their people in chains, and – what?” Quinn had been waving off to one side. He raised a hand and pointed to his wedding ring. “Right, and doing some personal investigation about my wedding venue. Possibly before we punch the Mystics.”

 

“My lord…Darth Serevin never told you what happened to the first Imperial invasion force.”

 

“He told me enough. He told me…actually, nothing. At all. He just said it would not be practical to try that again.”

 

The Zabrak nodded. “In short, nothing lands on that planet that the Voss do not want to land. No ship. No fleet. And Voss has ejected both Republic and Imperial envoys for the time being. We do not know why.”

 

“Well, find out,” snapped Nalenne. “You have no idea how important this is.”

 

He sighed resignedly. “With the Sith, my lord, I never do. If the situation changes, you will be notified.”

 

Nalenne nodded, sour-faced, and cut the holo.

 

Quinn cleared his throat. “I feel I should remind you, my lord, that I wanted to get married on Dromund Kaas.”

 

“Shut up.”

Edited June 18, 2012 by bright_ephemera

38. In which Nalenne encounters a Gree representative

 

An experienced bargainer knows

When to ease up and when to oppose.

The wrong move tempts fates,

Which just demonstrates

That diplomacy's best left to pros.

 

 

“What’s the holdup?”

 

Nalenne had been walking down the main thoroughfare of Kaas City, right alongside Pierce, until she wasn’t. A small crowd was gathered around something or other, which, as Pierce helpfully cleared a path, turned out to be an Imperial officer – major, by the looks of him – standing next to a shiny yellow protocol droid.

 

“Well, that’s just yellow parallel,” the protocol droid was saying. He was standing before a big open panel in the wall, staring at a complex mess of wires and pipes. “That’s just yellow, yellow parallel.”

 

“Is there a reason traffic is stopped here?” said Nalenne.

 

The major boggled for a fraction of a second before snapping to attention. “My lord! Not much of a problem, no. Tiny, really. Just some Gree droid demanding attention.”

 

The protocol droid looked at Nalenne. “Greetings. I am Kona-K of the Gree. We have come to arrest the yellow-shifting of the power works.”

 

“I don’t see anybody around here worth arresting,” said Nalenne, looking around.

 

“Gree know when blue acute must be introduced. Our black sphere will progress quickly if we gain white-team-cooperation.”

 

“Is, uh, is that so?”

 

“Yes. Can you assist us?”

 

“Maybe. Should I want to?”

 

“This is left to you. We must request that green bisector be removed before blue convex evolves to yellow.”

 

“Say that again?”

 

“We must request that green bisector be removed before blue convex evolves to yellow.”

 

Nalenne sighed. “Say that again, comprehensibly?”

 

“I see that your understanding remains white-shifted. Your cloth-lightning-young ones interrupt us at our maintenance. This green bisection must stop.”

 

“The Sith acolytes have been screwing with you?”

 

“I believe you comprehend our meaning.”

 

“So you came all the way from, uh, Gree, to yell at our acolytes?”

 

“We knew it was time for maintenance. Even a purple parallel must sometimes touch a blue acute.”

 

“We didn’t even invite this guy, did we?” Nalenne asked the officer.

 

“No, my lord. This apparatus isn’t even theirs,” said the major. “Our boys took it over decades ago and have been maintaining it. We have no idea what the Gree want with it now.”

 

“So there isn’t a problem with it?”

 

“Not from our end.”

 

Pierce cleared his throat. “That presents some possibilities for resolving this, milord, that don’t involve translatin’ that rot.”

 

“Really?”

 

Pierce grinned. “They say there are two universal languages,” he said, clicking his blaster rifle into readiness. “And I don’t speak math.”

 

Kona-K threw his arms up when Pierce aimed. “Ochre nonagon! Ochre nonagon take you all!” he squealed, and then whatever he was saying was drowned out by the glorious roar of high-speed blaster fire.

 

The assembled crowd cheered as Kona-K lurched and fell over. Pierce raised his rifle, theatrically blew imaginary smoke from the barrel, and relaxed.

 

The major was staring at the equipment panel, which had developed a number of scorch marks.

 

“We’re all set here now, right, major?” said Nalenne.

 

“I’m not sure.” The major ran his hand over the nearest blaster hole. “This. This little part here.”

 

“Doesn’t look bad. Should be an easy fix.”

 

“Actually, my lord, that apparatus in the middle dates from the original installation. We have no idea how it works, and judging by the amount of smoke it’s still emitting, it’s probably damaged beyond our ability to figure out.”

 

“Was it important?”

 

“Rather central to the whole thing.”

 

“Can we, um…how do we fix it?”

 

The major hung his head and covered his face with one hand. “We call in the Gree.”

Edited June 18, 2012 by bright_ephemera

39. In which Jaesa bothers Nalenne about Quinn

 

A creature of thought and of action

Can offer a certain attraction.

To plan what to do

And then carry it through,

If it’s smart, invites pleasant reaction.

 

 

Nalenne slipped onto the bridge, as a matter of habit, to check on ghost-Quinn. He had his back to the entryway, as usual. She could see his face reflected in one of the console panels.

 

He was leaning over the console, murmuring curt orders to 2V as the screen scrolled and he put together the information streaming by. Perfect concentration. Nalenne was surprised when Jaesa appeared at her elbow, but the girl stayed quiet. Nalenne looked back at Quinn and couldn’t help but smile. “He’s really sexy when he does that,” she whispered to Jaesa.

 

“And he likes it when you go all unstoppable-Wrath like you did out there today. He likes it a lot.”

 

Nalenne felt herself blush a little. “Really?”

 

“He would never admit it, but I can tell. The way he looks at you. It’s just like it used to be.”

 

Sanity hit Nalenne’s brain hard. “Oh. Right, yeah, that reminds me, I was just thinking about a change of subject.” She pushed away from the wall and started hurrying toward her quarters.

 

Jaesa kept up. “Have you talked about this? With anybody?”

 

“About what? Subject changes? All the time. I’m coming up with a new one any minute now.”

 

“No. You and Quinn. Your marriage. The betrayal. What’s between the two of you now. Any of it.”

 

Nalenne thought of a good not-talking-to-Jaesa activity and changed directions to make for the cargo hold. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the yelling.”

 

“You both throw blame, loudly, yes. I have yet to hear a single attempt at understanding or admitting what we can see when your guard is down or, or even feeling anything but anger.”

 

“You are incredibly far out of line, Jaesa.”

 

“You won’t tell anybody where the line is!”

 

“Well, it comes before telling me to talk about how I feel about the captain, that’s for sure!” Nalenne waved when she saw Broonmark emerging from the cargo hold. “Hey, Broonmark.” She Force-tweaked her vocal cords and dropped into Talz, using the word Broonmark had taught her for ‘Talz lessons.’ “Killing?"(*)

 

“Sith clan hippie bothers?”

 

Not quite relevant to a Talz lesson, but okay. “Yes.”

 

Broonmark hesitated. He looked at Jaesa and blinked one eye pair, then the other. “Wow,” he blorped, and drew his vibrosword, and sprung.

 

Nalenne panicked. “Not that killing!” she screeched. She Forced pushed Broonmark into the nearest wall and then walked over to outline the shape of the translator datapad where he could see. “Killing killing.”

 

“Oh,” blipped Broonmark in a disappointed tone.

 

Quinn came through the wall at what appeared to be a quickly-arrested sprint. His rapid scan of the room ended with a hard look at Broonmark. “My lord. I heard a struggle. Are you all right?”

 

“Everything’s fine, captain,” said Nalenne, meeting Jaesa’s puppy eyes straight on. “Nothing going on worth talking about. Return to your post.”

 

He nodded, respectfully, and headed back to the bridge.

 

“Master,” prompted Jaesa.

 

“What’s Talz for ‘nosy harridan’?” Nalenne asked Broonmark.

 

“Sith clan hippie,” repeated Broonmark. Funny, how much Talz vocabulary did double duty. Broonmark waved the still-activated vibrosword and watched the Jedi.

 

“Fine, master, I’m leaving,” said Jaesa. “For now.”

Edited June 19, 2012 by bright_ephemera
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