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There is no death, there is only Wrath

STAR WARS: The Old Republic > English > Community Content > Fan Fiction
There is no death, there is only Wrath

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06.25.2012 , 08:33 PM | #131
78. In which Nalenne wallows in self-pity

We each have our own way to mourn,
To cope with a feeling forlorn.
Some try something new
To avoid feeling blue,
But some keep one method well-worn.

Nalenne sat at the counter and yelled. “Pierce. Ice cream?”

Rather than yelling back to answer Nalenne, Pierce jogged over to the mess. “Yes. My lord. About that.”

“We’re not out already. We can’t be out. I’m too miserable to be out of ice cream.”

“You’ve been eating it for four meals a day ever since the, ah, time at which you started eating it.” He did not mention Servant Nine.

“It was only twice a day. Until just recently because Voss is horrible and I can’t think of anything else to try and, and I screwed my ex over when he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, milord, he did something wrong.”

“I don’t pay you to shove facts in my face. I pay you to keep ice cream in stock.

“Give it a moment.” Pierce stepped out of the way to let Vette and a very large container of triple coco chunk through. “Same consumption level, more booze, we’re looking at a relapse, trigger likely the captain,” he muttered as she passed.

“Where did you get that?” demanded Nalenne, shoving several empty shot glasses aside.

“Definitely not a secret stash from where we control the supply so you don’t kill yourself gorging on comfort food,” said Vette.

“Uh, Vette?” said Pierce.

“What? She asked.”

Nalenne already had the carton open and was struggling to work her spoon into the hard-frozen stuff. “Keep your secret stash at a better temperature.”

“We’ll do that, milord,” said Pierce evenly. “Anything else you need?”

“I should lose all hope more often. It makes you guys so accommodating.”

“Please don’t,” said Vette. “It makes you unbelievably unpleasant to interact with.”

“Well, I think you’re a b****, too.”

“And I’m only still alive after that infraction because you love me.”

Nalenne finally got a hard chip of ice cream into her mouth. “M. Mmm mm…m…meh?”

Pierce raised an eyebrow at her.

Nalenne finished swallowing. “This is wrong,” she explained. “Chocolate’s off.”

“How do you figure?” said Vette.

“There’s less of it. Everyone hates me, I can’t keep a man, I’m a failure at taking care of my friends, and now there’s less chocolate in my ice cream.”

“Could be a bum batch,” suggested Pierce.


“There is a war on, milord. These things happen.”

“The Republic deprived me of real ice cream, everyone hates me, I can’t fix anything, and I’ll die alone. I’m going back to bed.”

“I repeat, my lord, everyone doesn’t hate you,” said Vette.

“You just said I was unbelievably unpleasant.”

“My lord…”

“And why is the chocolate gone? Where’s Captain Know-it-all? I bet he would know about supply problems.” Nalenne grabbed the carton and started toward the bridge.

Quinn, having heard the stomping, met her halfway. “Why is my chocolate gone?” she asked him. Jaesa looked up from her reading, but said nothing.

“Given the distributor?” he asked, scanning the carton with a critical eye. “There have been heavy shipping disruptions in sector seventy-three, dramatically cutting chocolate production. The Confectioners’ Guild (*) has already taken action against both the Republic and an opportunistic pirate organization in the region. Estimates are that the affected systems will be secured within two weeks, but there has already been sufficient disruption to interfere with several of their deliveries.”

“This is why I keep you. Still, they should just ship fewer cartons before deciding to diminish their ice cream formula like this.” Nalenne shoved another big spoonful into her mouth and took a moment to melt/chew/swallow it down. “This is a travesty.”

Quinn just looked at her. “I am not inclined to disagree, my lord.”

“This is normal for her,” Jaesa reminded him.

“You both hate me, too. I can tell. I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m really sorry. I would hate me, too.”

He fixed his gaze on a point over her left shoulder. “I wasn’t planning on hating you, my lord.”

“Now you’re being tactful. That means I did something wrong. I hate everything. Find me something to smash tomorrow, please.” Before anyone could respond, Nalenne turned around and ran to her quarters.

“Confectioners’ Guild better hurry up,” growled Pierce.
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06.25.2012 , 08:36 PM | #132
79. In which Nalenne lays out Plan B

When organic conundrums get tough,
Sometimes DNA is enough.
Just look and you’ll see,
Bases G, A, C, T,
Can spell out remarkable stuff.

“So we’re stuck,” said Nalenne.

“We truly dislike the lack of killing here,” said Broonmark.

“The Voss talked about getting us both living to set things right, but we don’t exactly have anything for Quinn to live in, nor any means of putting him there.”

“This is true,” bubbled Broonmark. “Better to kill.”

“I was thinking, we might work on the thing-to-live-in while we try to figure out the putting-him-there.”

“Sith clan’s dumbest’s body drifts outside Corellia, after righteous killing. It will not be found.”

“Therein lies the problem.” Nalenne gestured nervously. “You’re the best biologist I know, Broonmark. If there’s anything we can find or construct or something, preferably something that looks like him, you’ll find a way.”

“We would require DNA to start. But Sith clan burned everything belonging to clan’s dumbest after betrayal and correct killing.”

“Yeah, therein lies the problem. Would anyone have saved something? Anywhere?”

“While we would have enjoyed dumbest’s blood, we never spilled any.” Broonmark paused again. “Med bay may save. Hospitals. Perhaps military or government…Imperial government is creepy.”

“They feel the same way about you.”

“Hoth common law was better. All disputes: killing. No government needed.”

“Maybe, but the Citadel is what we’ve got. I’ll check about any sample storage they do have.”

“Even if body is regrown, Sith clan cannot force the dead into living form. Opposite of killing is opposite of our specialty.”

“Maybe. But the raw material can’t hurt, right? If we come across something impossible, Broonmark, I want to be ready.”

“Sith clan has better things to do with time. Sith clan owes dumbest one nothing. Kill. Move on.”

“I think we’ve established that killing isn’t happening.”

“Sith clan’s effort is weak. Clan wishes to heal itself instead.” Broonmark shook his head. “There is no healing that big a jerk.”

“Whoa. Since when did you have a problem with Quinn?”

“Since always. Also since betrayal. Also since Sith clan’s dumbest used to keep coming to cargo hold to read comics and throw dirty looks at us. Also since every time clan’s dumbest yells at us for leaving our kill on the coffee table.”

“I…I didn’t realize…”

Broonmark shrugged. “Sith clan needs. We obey Sith clan.”

“I suddenly, really appreciate your not whining all this time. Just…let me know if you think of anything, okay? And don’t tell anyone. Especially not Jaesa. If she knows I’m trying something she’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“Sith clan is safe.” Broonmark crossed his arms. “Sith clan is stupid, but fortunately for Sith clan nobody else in clan speaks Talz.”
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06.26.2012 , 08:33 AM | #133
80. In which Nalenne faces the Imperial government

Some courage displays on the field,
As banner, as weapon, as shield.
The more inane kind
Of inflexible spine
Looks much less impressive to wield.

“Yes, my lord, we do maintain genetic samples of everyone in the Imperial military. It’s invaluable for broad population medical studies and certain special programs.”

“No doubt,” Nalenne told the officer in the holo image. “I need access to a genetic sample for a certain soldier.”

“That goes against protocol, my lord.”

“Emperor’s Wrath, peon.”

The officer shifted uncomfortably. “Who did you have in mind?”

“Malavai Quinn, formerly captain, deceased.”

He tapped some console and checked. “I see. I can’t just release this to you, or to anybody. The higher-ups would have my head, and I’d rather die by your hands than theirs.”

“You can release it to me. I’m his next of kin.”

“Oh.” He tapped his console a little more, waited, frowned. “Ah, according to our records, my lord, you ‘divorced him as hard as Sith-ily possible, renounced all possible association with him, declared anathema on his name, and rejected all past or future connection with him.’”

“Well, I changed my mind.”

“I, uh…I don’t…this is very difficult, my lord.”

“Not my problem. I want my husband’s blood.” She considered. “This seems to be a recurring theme.”

The officer swallowed hard. “Yes, um, you can certainly come to the repository on Dromund Kaas. I’m just not sure how much luck you’ll have with the staff there.”

“I have the Dark Side and a really big lightsaber. I don’t need luck.”


Kaas City. The lobby of an Imperial government skyscraper.

“Get me Malavai Quinn’s record.”

The little old woman behind the desk peered up at her. “And you are?” she said, with a voice as sour as her face.

“Darth Nalenne. The Emperor’s Wrath. Short on patience.”

“Did you submit an IRR-284 for this retrieval?”

“No, I’m submitting a ‘Give me what I want.’”

“I can’t do anything without an IRR-284.”

Nalenne drew and activated her saber. “I have an ‘I’. Is that enough?”

“No,” she said primly. “Also, weapons are not allowed in the archive.”

“Are you paying attention to the part where I eat dogs like you for breakfast?”

“Your dietary habits have no bearing on the fact that you are not authorized to access the genetic archives.” She glared. “I am going to have to ask you to leave.”


“If you’re going to be difficult,” she said resentfully, “then here.” She leaned under her desk, shuffled something or other, and came back up with a paper copy of a form. “Fortunately for you, I have a blank IRR-284 on hand. You may fill it out now.”

“Like hell!”

Just then Nalenne’s holo beeped. She was more than willing to answer it rather than looking at the odious little archivist.

It was Broonmark. “Sith clan. Greetings.”

“Broonmark, I don’t have a lot of time. I’m in the middle of something.”

“If archive fails, we have a DNA sample from clan dumbest.”

“What? No. How?”

“Dust bunny hall of fame. (*) We checked oldest entries. Searched every hair. Found hair with remaining follicle. Should be sufficient.” Broonmark looked at the floor. “It is our shame to report that we destroyed all dust bunny champions in our search.”

“I don’t really care about the hall of fame, Broonmark. That’s…that’s perfect.”

“Please keep all personal holo conversations outside,” sniffed the archivist.

“Bloody hell,” said Nalenne, and killed the archivist with a swift Force choke. “I’m done here.”
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06.26.2012 , 08:37 AM | #134
81. In which Vette points out a flaw in the plan

When chaos and trouble are rife,
It’s smart to track each moving knife.
I feel I should mention,
The span of attention’s
Proportional to that of life.

“Hey. My lord.”

“Hey. Vette.”

“Whatcha gonna do with your hard-earned Quinn remnants?”

“So you heard about that.”

“I have my ways. What’s the plan for ‘em?”

“Nothing, for now. Keep an ear out for a solution, hope the DNA sample we got helps. Work until then, I guess, because for once Quinn’s favored answer to everything may be the only thing to do, just don’t ever tell him I said so.”

“About that solution thing. I didn’t say anything when you gave the guy who sent killer droids after you his own personal droid for customization as he saw fit. Looking back, I have no idea why I didn’t point that out, but there it is.”

“It’s not like 2V could possibly threaten me.”

“Maybe. But now you’re seriously talking about physically restoring the man.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Because restoring physical capability to the guy who tried to kill you is a great idea.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, we’ve pissed him off plenty more since then.”

“He wouldn’t, Vette. It isn’t like that any more.”

“You’ve forgiven him,” she said accusingly. “You’ve forgiven him for the entire elaborate scam that was his getting close to you.”

“Why are you so mad about this?”

“Apart from the part where he knocked me to the bottom of the totem pole from day one and still appears to rate above me there?”

“You were always at the bottom of the totem pole, Vette. It was a two-person totem pole before he came along. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“Maybe I should ask, why aren’t you mad? Have you noticed that he is every bit as annoying as he ever was, he’s right back to serving Sith over your head that will probably betray you, and he’s just waiting for you to do the hard work for him, again?”

“I’m…kind of used to doing what he says, really. Quinn bosses around. I complain a lot and then I get the job done.”

“And then he shivs you. This pattern is established.”

“It’s not a pattern. It only happened once.”

“That’s because you killed him before he could repeat the behavior. Good job, nipping that in the bud. Now don’t set it up to happen again.”

“I owe him this, Vette.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard! And in this crowd I hear stupid things on a nearly-hourly basis!”

“I have to ask. Is all this your way of saying you’re mad that he caught you rigging his console to display nothing but Republic propaganda again?”

Vette spent a moment wavering between straight face and ferocious scowl. “Rrrrrg,” she finally said, and stomped off.

When Nalenne headed to the mess for a snack a few minutes later, Pierce looked up from his second breakfast. “Milord. Heard about the genetic-sample efforts. Are you sure you want to physically restore the guy who tried to kill you?”

“Don’t start.”
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06.26.2012 , 11:27 AM | #135
82. In which Nalenne takes a day off with Vette and Jaesa

Author’s note: I just realized that several of my previous-entry annotations signified by (*) were bad links because I copy-pasted smart quotes and the forum didn’t like it! I have gone back and corrected those.

A Sith on vacation time will,
If you let her, quite fail to chill.
She’ll play like she works:
Unfettered, berserk,
And perfectly ready to kill.

“Give it up.”

“If you think I’m going to surrender my lightsaber,” said Nalenne, “you’re tragically deluded.”

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

“Death first.”

Vette rolled her eyes. “Jaesa, can you get out of the pool and take charge of Nalenne’s lightsaber so she runs out of excuses to avoid swimming?”

“I don’t know why I let you drag me here,” grumbled Nalenne, but she gave her lightsaber up anyway.

“It’s not that I’m not enjoying the completely insane new work schedule you decided on,” said Vette. “It’s just that I’m not enjoying it. And also you need some downtime.”

“Angst never rests, hon.”

Vette’s eyes widened a little more. Her jaw set. With a speed that would have done credit to a nexu, she launched herself out of the pool and around Nalenne to give the Sith a hard shove toward the water. Nalenne allowed it, more or less, and stumbled gracelessly in.

Vette followed her. “Angst this.” She splashed, hard.

Nalenne coughed and spat. “Maybe I will.” She dispensed with the hand movement in favor of a Force push, swamping the Twi’lek. And several strangers a few meters beyond her. And several more strangers who had been reading some ways away from the pool.

Nalenne looked apprehensively toward the lifeguard, a skinny Selkath youth. He looked back at her, gulped loudly, and said nothing.

“This establishment might be kind of okay,” conceded Nalenne.

“By the way, master,” said Jaesa, “the suit looks great on you.”

“Really? I was just thinking it’s so non-protective that I’m going to bleed out and die the minute somebody throws a sharp look my way.”

“You’ve been getting looks.”

“Have not.”

“The nice kind.”

“Just as it should be,” said Vette. “Great to have some potential company that isn’t our boys, huh?”

“No,” said Nalenne stubbornly.

Vette splashed her again.

They played around for a while, Vette demonstrating how a Twi’lek swimming underwater will trail floating lekku in a creditable Alderaan doubleback shark impression, Jaesa sunning herself and throwing positive commentary whenever Nalenne threatened to get unpleasant, which was every ten seconds or so.

“So,” Vette said at some point. “After-supper plans.”

“I’m not doing the massage thing.”

“Why not? It’s great.”

“If I’m going to be paying for unclothed contact with a stranger, I refuse to go halfway.”

Jaesa sucked in a breath. “Did you have to say it that way, master?”

“Canceling plans, are we?”

“After that image? Yes.”

“Mud wrap?” suggested Vette.

“Mud what?” said Nalenne.

“You get this mud mask slathered all over, and then you get wrapped up for a bit. It’s all soothing-detox stuff.”

“I don’t know where to start. First, who even thought that was a good idea, and second, I bathe in mud at work all the time. Why would I do it on my day off?”

“Fine. The hair services are out, since between you and me we don’t have any hair. Nails?”

“You think they have a shade of red that won’t clash with my skin?”

“They have everything here.” Vette started pulling herself out of the water, paused while holding herself up on the edge of the pool. “Hey, Jaesa, guys at three o’ clock checking you out.”

“Stop doing that! It’s not like I’m available.”

“Tough being pretty, isn’t it? Maybe we can catch a trio later.”


Nalenne cocked her head. “Jaesa, are you trying to pin me between my reluctance to have fun and my desire to see you squirm? Because that’s just not nice.”

Vette got the rest of the way out and stretched. “I know which side I would pick.”

"Yeah," said Nalenne. "Just for today, yeah, I think I'm with you."
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06.26.2012 , 11:33 AM | #136
83. In which Nalenne has and holds while Broonmark questions

A circle of clever adults
On difficult matters consults.
It’s wise to take note:
A crowd may outvote,
But the Sith’s the one counting results.


“My lord?”

“I’ve been thinking about the fact that you might be stuck like this forever, and how rotten that is.”

“Coincidentally, so have I.”

“And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I can’t find a solution for this. I’m sorry I did it to you in the first place.”

“You have pointed out multiple times, and accurately, that I would have killed you otherwise.”

“Hmm. Then I guess I would be bodiless.”

“And probably quite insane, having to be conscious but not physically amused twenty-four hours per day. A mind like yours could not endure that for long.”

“I guess I’m not so sorry I killed you.”

Quinn covered his face with one hand. “That was not the intended conclusion, my lord.”

“No. No, listen. I know I’m out of ideas, but if anything comes up, if you find anything, tell me. Okay? You have my money, my authority, my lightsaber, my talents of persuasion, my talents of coercion; anything I can confiscate, crush, buy, or burn, name it and it’s yours. If we spot what you need, if there is a way, I’ll make it happen for you, no matter what it takes.”

“That’s very kind, my lord. You said exactly the same thing to Jaesa an hour ago when she mentioned those shoes she wanted.”

“I meant it then, too,” Nalenne said defensively.

“You really put the ‘thoughtless’ in ‘thoughtless generosity.’”

“I don’t know what else to do. But that’s not the point. I meant to offer a temporary measure. We know you’re stuck close to me or close to the ship, right? If you wanted, I could get another ship for myself and the crew. You could take the Helicarrier with 2V and whatever military crew you want, and go freelance, or go back into the system, whichever. You wouldn’t have to be near me for the rest of my life.”

“I see.”

“Say the word and it’s yours. If…if you want?”

“Do you want to be rid of me?”

“Way to avoid the question.”

“I could evade for quite some time, my lord, if you refuse to answer first.”

Nalenne bit her lip. “It’s complicated, okay? This situation isn’t exactly easy on either of us.”

“Repeating the obvious is also a way of avoiding the question, my lord.”

“No. I don’t want you gone. But the option is there if it ever gets bad.”

“Yes. If it ever gets so bad that being set adrift with only 2V-R8 for company is the preferred solution, I shall notify you.”

She decided to give up there.

Broonmark fell into step with Nalenne on her way back to her quarters. “We overheard Sith clan.”

“And?” She didn’t really want to talk about it.

“Sith clan still says traitor is welcome. Clan has carried infected flesh for many months. Infection should have been cut away and cast aside long ago, but it is still here, and it eats at the clan. Also it talks annoyingly at all hours, such as when we are trying to sleep. If clan is free to change ships, then why do we remain?”

“I need him,” Nalenne admitted.

Broonmark gurgled annoyedly. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Why do I need air?”

Broonmark raised a claw for quiet and turned his translation datapad on. He handed it over to her, motioning for her to watch as it translated his many unfamiliar words.

“Because air carries in the oxygen required for our cellular metabolism while carrying away the waste products of that selfsame metabolism.”

“How literal. No. Why do I need, I don’t know, sunshine?”

“Because in addition to assisting with the regulation of certain hormones, it is necessary for the photoreaction that generates vitamin D, which is otherwise only obtainable through dietary supplements. We see Sith clan never studied biology.”

Nalenne rolled her eyes. “No. You want to know why I need him? Why do I need the rush of bloody victory?”

“Oh.” Broonmark considered for some time. “Combination of entertainment, rush of endorphins, healthy cardiovascular activity, and the emotional satisfaction of a challenging job done well?”

Nalenne grinned. “Something like that.”

“Sith clan can find gratification without physically restoring one who tried to kill Sith clan.”

Nalenne threw up her hands. “Everybody is so hung up on that part!”

Pierce paused on his way past. “He telling you you’re wrong about Quinn? Because if so, count my vote on his side.”
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06.26.2012 , 05:25 PM | #137
84. Side commentary: In which Nalenne considers two non-superheroes

A comic store patron is faced
With stories to fit every taste.
With such varied bids,
To claim it’s for kids
Lets far too much art go to waste.

“What is this?” asked Jaesa, peering over Nalenne’s shoulder at the latest comic book.

Oneiros. Very cool series, came off a sub-label of Coruscant Comics.”

“What’s it about?”

“A few personifications of the major powers of the galaxy. Death, dreams, pettiness. The raw stuff of nightmares, the roots of almost every basic story our culture has ever constructed. It’s got it all: murder, suicide, monsters, betrayal, cannibalism, torture, really brutal slavery, some staggeringly creative varieties of coercion, several forms of abuse too horrible for me to talk about...”

“Too horrible for you to want to talk about.”

“Yup! It’s great, I love this series.”

“Please never show me any of it.”

“It’s really good. I think you would love it.” *

“I think that statement is false.”

“Really, really good.”

Jaesa walked away.


Nalenne caught up with her later. “Didn’t scare you, did I?”

Jaeas looked up from her own console. “Nah, I’ve been going through a discovery of my own lately. It’s about a supergenius tinkerer girl and her wacky adventures in a strangely technologically stunted world. Check out this visual style.”


“Pretty, isn’t it?”

“It’s very…round.”

“All the girls are like that. Talk about your hourglass figure, huh? But look at some of these full-page spreads. The detail on that mechanic’s bench!”

“She’s doing mad science in her underwear.”

“It’s cute!”

“What was it you said earlier, about ‘a discovery of your own’? Jaesa, you have…tendencies…don’t you.”

“You just noticed this, milord?” said Pierce in passing.

“The mad science is a ton of fun, though, master. And look at the airships!”

“Going back to my catalog of unspeakable brutality now.”

Jaesa nodded amiably. “Going back to funny coffee machines now. I love these books.”


* I've heard this line.

Author’s note on Sandman: I cannot tell you how many times my friends have said ‘It gets less staggeringly depraved as you go! Really!’ Sandman: Cannot recommend for anyone who lacks a cast-iron stomach. However, for the kind of stories it tells, it is superbly crafted.

Author’s note on Girl Genius: This is pretty much the cutest thing ever. I got bored after a while, but man, when it’s good it is incredibly wacky fun good.
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06.26.2012 , 05:27 PM | #138
85. In which Nalenne gets an unexpected tip

Matters can quickly go sour
At the levels of ultimate power.
Reversals are quick,
With each tick-tock-tick:
Much can change in a day or an hour.

“My lord?”

“Quinn, you just walked through my bedroom door without knocking.”

“I can’t knock, my lord.”

“Or yelling.”

“I had a good reason. I have something very difficult to say. I’m hoping you won’t fly into a murderous rage if I say it.”

“Bad way to start, but okay, I’m curious.”

“The Emperor’s Hand has decided to remove you and place Servant Nine as the Wrath.”

“But who’s going to be Nine then?”

“I didn’t ask.” The old intensity was rising in his eyes. “Nalenne, they’ve ordered me to help dispose of you. We don’t have much time to raise a defense.”

“Got any battle droids from the last time?”

“Not funny.”

“You’re actually helping me?”

“I’m trying to. I am supposed to have you alone on the ship tomorrow morning. We need to have measures in place by then.”

“You’re helping me.”

“I’m supposed to get the rest of the crew off the ship. You’ll have to brief them on the appropriate cover action. They won’t take it from me.”

“You got an order from higher-up, and instead of obeying it you’re helping me.”

“I was rather hoping the gesture would prompt you to pay attention to what I am saying so you can survive the next twenty-four hours, my lord.”

“Sorry, stuck on the novelty of you helping me in this scenario.”

“The Emperor’s Hand is a force to be reckoned with. It would be wise to focus.”

“Fine. Any idea who the assassin will be?”

“No. At worst, it may be Servant Nine himself, with support.”

“Servant Nine’s too cocky to bring support.”

“Then we may have a chance.”

“No, wait, back up a bit, captain. You’re really helping me?”

He studied her face. “Based on previous patterns I estimate a forty per cent chance you won’t snap out of this until I make some dramatic declaration, and since I just ran through the more probable ‘you won’t snap out of it until I offer the prospect of an entertaining fight’ scenario, I’m forced to fall back on it. I am yours, Nalenne. No authority, no force, no command will threaten that again.” He drew himself a little straighter. “Furthermore it’s an idiotic personnel decision on their part. I can’t support it.”

“I’m starting to believe you.”

“I am relieved to hear that.”

“I might actually cry.”

“Please don’t, my lord.”

“You’re helping me.”

“Do you have even the slightest interest in taking action to preserve your life?”

“Oh! Right. Let’s get to work.”
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Bright's Fanfic Threads
---(Ceterum autem censeo, Malavai esse delendam.)--- DELETA MALAVAI EST

iamthehoyden's Avatar

06.26.2012 , 05:49 PM | #139 heart's softening an ittle bit towards ittle bit
aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?
Fan Fiction: My Name is Solomon Crae The Man in the Box

Ashlian's Avatar

06.26.2012 , 08:10 PM | #140
I've been on Team Quinn, because I'm a sucker for the bad boys, but I didn't see it happening until recently with the little hints that they might be able to get him a body, and I knew he'd have to at the VERY least show his "cough" UNDYING support for Nalenne. So it will be interesting to see where the story goes from here, I can think of more than one creditably excellent story progression, not all of which involve Quinn back in the saddle, so to say. The Flaky Creative Mind has much to do, hmm!!!! Can't wait to see how it all turns out.