Xania and Lilith do not know they are related. This piece happens some time before Family

“Agent! We have just picked up a distress call from a nearby station”

Lokin was usually controlled in his display of emotions but Lilith noticed that he was a tinge of urgency in his voice.

“Talk to me doc” she replied calmly “What have you picked up this time?” She knew that Lokin was always listening to his own connections and channels. He was a former agent on imperial intelligence but, as she knew all too well, once an agent, always an agent.

“It looks like an imperial distress beacon. It’s coming from the station itself”

Lilith sighed, knowing that such scenarios were never clear cut: why would an imperial station issue a distress call? Had the Republic attacked it? That would simply be a very bad move for them, openly attacking an imperial station would be a declaration of war and they did not wish to be the first ones to strike. Pirates? Attacking a station? Possible. But she also considered a third option: something from within. The Empire was made up of multiple factions and the Sith were always up to no good.

“What kind of station are we dealing with here?”

Lokin tapped a few icons on the holoscreen “It looks like a…mining station” he said stroking his chin.

“A mining station? What are we looking at? Explosion?” she asked more to herself than anyone else. For other people, this might have been a standard rescue mission but for Lilith, she had learnt to look past the initial details and look further. If there had been an explosion, what caused it? Mishandled explosives? Normal wear and tear? Sabotage?

And if it wasn’t an explosion, what was it? Poisonous gas? Some asteroids where known to contain pockets of volatile or dangerous gasses but the crew should have been experienced enough to detect that.

Unknown life forms? It could have also been a possibility since it was difficult to foresee what some of those floating rocks might contain. In any case, this could prove interesting, she thought.

“Are we in comms range?”

“Let me extend the comm array…” Loking waited for a few seconds “…there. Opening comm channel…now” he continued, already knowing what she had in mind

“Imperial station, we picked up your distress call. Please state the nature of your emergency” she asked over the open comm channel.

Static.

“Imperial station, come in.”

More static filled the channel for a few moments, then “…der a…looks…fo…” then the comm channel wend dead, the last sound heard was almost too familiar to both Lilith and Lokin.

“Blaster fire” he said

“Can you get the hangar controls, doc?”

“You let me deal with that…” Lokin was already typing commands on the console “…just take us in”

****

“My lord? I believe there may be an issue here” Lieutenant Talos Drellik was staring at three heavily armed troopers, all pointing rifles at him and at the sith standing next to him.

“I was always amazed by how percipient you are, lieutenant.” she replied. He took note of the sarcasm in her voice and decided against speaking again, for the time being. “What you may call ‘issue’, I call ‘entertainment’” she continued as she gazed wickedly at the three soldiers. With a quick motion, she suddenly disappeared. This did take the troopers by surprise who, after a moment of inaction, figured out that it was best to blast a few holes in the widest area possible. Lieutenant Drellik had a fraction of a second to dodge out of the way, behind a few larger rocks while the continuous discharge of blaster rifles sent debris and dust all over.

Then all went quiet.

A crackling sound followed by a flash of green light was all that one soldier saw before a light saber pierced through his chest. He was dead before his body hit the ground. Visible once again, the sith quickly released the Force in a bolt that hit the second soldier, knocking him over and leaving him shaking on the ground.

The third soldier aimed, reacting more out of instinct than training, but his rifle fell to the floor as he screamed: fear first, then pain as he realised his arms had been severed at the elbows. He fell silent just moments after as his head joined his weapon on the ground. The sith then quickly finished off the last soldier who was groggily trying to get back on his feet.

Lieutenant Drellik stood up from behind the rock where he took cover “My lord…?”

“Take the relic and make sure to secure it on the ship” came the reply “I will be on my way as soon as I’m done here”

“Yes, my lord” he quickly answered. He picked up a small sack and moved out of the mining chamber into the leading corridor. The sith waited for him to disappear before entering a second corridor which, according to the plans, was leading to the control centre.

****

The small holoprojector was showing an image of a robed figure waiting for the Chiss holding the device to finish speaking

“We ran into…a problem”

“Yes, I thought you might” the holo figure replied “Deal with her.”

“My lord, with all due respect, she’s been identified as a member of the dark council. Her demise might attract attention. Also, my men are not trained to deal with a sith in combat…”

“I did not ask you to kill her, just to get the tablet. Use your men to distract her”

“They will die…”

“They are expendable. All that matters is the relic. You have your orders, agent” The small image disappeared as the communication was cut

“Yes, we are expendable…what kind of an idiot do you take me for?” the agent replied to herself. She surveyed the control room for an easily defensible position but there were only consoles and dead bodies on the floor.

The initial attack had been by the book: infiltrate the facility, disable the security, overpower any resistance. What they did not plan on is to find a Sith lord already in the facility. This made matters worse. A lot worse. She had lost contact with two groups already: one in the main excavation chamber, where the relic was found, and a patrol. The former group had reported finding the relic and that’s when she thought that this was going to be another flawless mission. Until she heard shooting and then screaming. But it had been the silence and static that followed that had been eerie.

She had never faced a Sith in combat but the opportunity to do so would benefit her training, she considered. And she did not have to think about it for long as the soldier posted outside the room was flung across the room, crashing against the far wall with a crack. She spun around just in time to see the other soldier being hit by a discharge of electricity. The acrid smell of burnt skin hit her nostrils as she focused her eyes on the figure standing in the doorway.

She had been trained for combat and learned how to improvise when missions did not go according to plan but, this time, she felt something gripping her stomach. Something she had not felt before.

****

Lilith quickly stepped down from the ramp leading to her ship, followed by Lokin and Kaliyo.

“Great” she said obviously annoyed at the sight of another ship parked in the station’s hangar.

“That’s some nice hardware” added Kaliyo

“And it is also a Fury class interceptor” continued Lokin

“Meaning?”

“There’s a Sith on the station” answered Lilith “Let’s keep moving” She tapped her comms “Ensign? Do you copy?”

“Loud and clear”

“Keep those engines warm. We might need to scramble”

“Roger that”

The group moved quickly through the hangar and into the main corridor. There, a few security guards lay on the floor, dead. Lokin examined one of the bodies “Blaster fire. Clean and precise. These guys never had a chance. It’s a professional.”

Lilith looked at him “No lightsaber wounds?”

“Trust me, agent. I can recognise blaster entry and exit wounds” he replied

“I wasn’t doubting you Doc. I was just hoping that this would have been a simple case of a Sith going mental.” She sighed “It seems we’re dealing with other players this time”

“Could have been bounty hunters” Kaliyo picked up one of the blasters belonging to one of the guards and examined it “With this kind of weapons, they did not have a chance indeed.” She continued, dropping it.

“No.” Lokin shook his head “I’ve seen this type of work before”

Lilith gave him a look showing that she knew what he was going to say next “Intelligence?”

“Who else?” He stood “Shall we?” he motioned towards the end of the corridor

“Hey, I was never much into your spy game” interjected Kaliyo “Just let me know when I can start shooting”

“Judging by the amount of bodies, there is not much left to be shot” Lilith continued towards the main doors which suddenly opened, activated from the other side. A lone man was standing there, holding a small bag. At first, he did not notice the trio in front of him, too busy looking inside the bag. It wasn’t until he felt something touching the side of his head that he realised he was not alone.

“Go on, make my day” Kaliyo was pointing her blaster in his face. His eyes quickly darted from the rattataki to the other two.

“No need for that…yet” Lilith focused her attention of the man’s uniform “Reclamation service?” She looked up at him “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question but I would assume that you are here because of the attempt on the life of a council member.”

“Answer my question”

“Who are you to ask such questions?”

“We’re holding the guns here” interjected Kaliyo “And I’m getting an itchy finger so why don’t you play nice and answer the question? Unless, of course, you wish to get a bit of fresh air through your head”

He blinked a couple of times “I am Lieutenant Talos Drellik, from the Imperial Reclamation Service, as you have said. I currently work for a member of the Sith Council known as Darth Nox and she will not be pleased to know that…” he paused looking at the trio once more “…that…that people interfered”

“Oh, really?” Lilith was not willing to wait for a darth to show up. Not while her and her crew had not the advantage. She wanted to get to a ‘vantage’ point, and that same vantage point was wearing an imperial uniform. “You’re coming with us”

“Am I?”

Kaliyo placed her blaster at the back of his head “Start walking”

****

“Are we far enough?” Lilith asked to Ensign Temple who was checking the readings on the flight console

“Yes. Still in comms range though”

“Good. Hail the sith vessel and transfer it to the holo projector”

The ensign entered some numbers on the console and the holo projector in the main lobby purred to life. The figure of a sith appeared, a blue shimmering image which, even though it was far away enough, Lilith was still able to feel it glaring at her.

“You have something that belongs to me” started the sith

“If you mean Lieutenant Drellik, do not worry, he will be treated with respect.” Lilith paused “But, I know that you Sith do not value someone’s life much so I will just assume that you are talking about the tablet he was carrying”

“Yes, you have one of mine but I do have one of yours”

“I…see. Are you proposing an exchange?”

“I am proposing nothing. Once I have obtained the information I need from my prisoner, I will hunt you down and finish the job”

“And lose your precious relic in the process.” Lilith was not going to be intimidated by one lone sith, not after all she went through when dealing with the Star Cabal “I will destroy it should you try anything stupid” There was a moment of silence as the two women squared each other.

“Someone went to great length to hire highly trained operatives to retrieve this tablet. From what I could see, those same soldiers were responsible for the deaths of the security personnel on the station.” Lilith examined the holo of her recipient to check for any reaction “So, one option is that you were at the wrong place, at the wrong time or, someone knew where you were and wanted you dead. Either way, you are a victim here…surprisingly enough.”

“Get to the point”

“Time. That is all I ask. Time to find out more about your mysterious enemy and time to verify why this tablet…” she picked up what looked to be a pyramid shaped object carved out of dark stone “…is so important”

“What if I don’t agree?”

“You are more than welcome to seek me out. But, I warn you: if you want this, you’ll accept.” Lilith had a feeling that she was testing the sith’s patience but was confident that she was having the upper hand. At least for the time being.

“How much time are we talking about?”

“I can’t tell for sure.”

“You are not giving much in return.”

“I will contact you with a place and time where we will make the exchange. Your lieutenant and the stone for the operative in your custody. Alive.”

Silence followed. Lilith was now convinced that her interlocutor was fuming and that amused her “You will hear from me soon”

“I will look forward to our meeting”

Lilith closed the comm channel. That last comment left an uneasy feeling within her. “Are you really going through with that plan?” said Lokin interrupting her thoughts

“Yes. I think it will work out. Call it a gut feeling”

“I hope that your ‘gut feeling’ will not leave us in a tank filled with poo”

“We’re already wading knee-deep in poo, Doc. Might as well keep going forward”

She did have a point and he could not argue with that.

Reunion

Ald and Malavai were out for a day’s adventuring in the shops on the House Thul grounds. It was a rather nice day, nothing like the crisp cool air of Spring to bring a chill to the bones, but that was nothing a nice hot cuppa couldn’t fix. He was very relaxed, sitting there at the tea shop’s outdoor seating across from Malavai who was busy explaining the day’s events. The first stop, of course, was for tea at the little shop Ald had noticed when they visited Alderaan those years ago. He didn’t have time then, but he had the time now and it was nice to have that time. He was able to put aside being a Wrath, if only for a little while, and enjoy a cup of tea. When they were finished with their tea, and Malavai with his itinerary detail, they paid and bill and left. Time for a leisurely stroll to the shuttles, though Ald argued it was hardly leisurely if it were planned. Malavai ignored him, of course, and continued on his way. Ald shook his head, amused and exasperated with the man.

“Da’nath!” shouted a voice.

Ald froze in his tracks. The voice shouted again, closer this time. He was paralyzed. That voice was familiar and that word – it sounded like a name. The hustle and bustle of the people around him faded into the distance. He heard and felt things in his bubble, but outside of that and he was dead to the world.

“Da’nath?” the voice asked. It was right behind him now. “Is… that really you?”

He didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t have to. Malavai was there running interference against whoever this was who dare step to the Wrath in such a matter and how dare they presume they know who he was. He could hear feet shuffling and that voice, that voice he couldn’t quite place was pleading with Malavai for an audience. Malavai was having none of it. But Ald was curious. And filled with terror. He turned toward the voice and called off his Imperial to allow him time to study this person. It was a female. Normal height, slight build, blonde hair, grey eyes. Nothing special. No one special.

“As Captain Quinn here,” Ald said as he pointed to Malavai, “has stated, I am not this ‘Da’nath.’ I am Darth Aldridinar, Emperor’s Wrath and I am currently on a short holiday. If you require assistance, find the nearest Imperial station, and let them know.”

“You’ve cut your hair,” the woman said quietly.

“Madam, I do not know you. You are interrupting my private time. Desist this immediately.”

The woman fretted with her hands. “You don’t remember me; of course you don’t remember me. How could you remember me? And after what I did. What your father talked me into. Oh, Da’nath. I – I – I know it’s you. A mother never forgets the face of her child. I’m so sorry, Da’nath.”

Ald stared at the woman, his face blank and closed. No sane person would claim what she claimed. No sane person would approach the Wrath and demand an audience. No sane person would want to be his mother.

“What is your name, woman?” Ald asked stiffly. Malavai arched a brow, but remained silent.

“Katri, my Lord,” she replied quietly. “Katri Sto.”

The name resonated with a memory, a very distant memory. From before the Jungles, before the Brute, before the changes.

“My Lord, we are falling behind schedule,” Malavai said insistently. “We should have departed five minutes ago.”

Ald glanced at Malavai then back at Katri.

“Run a scan, Captain. If this woman’s claims are true, we can reschedule. This is more important if true, don’t you agree?”

Ald’s tone brooked no room for argument and Malavai was wise enough not to disagree with Ald in public unless the circumstances were extreme. This was minor. And when this was dealt with, the woman would be dealt with. Malavai did as he was asked, pulled his medical scanner from a pouch on his belt, and scanned the woman then Ald. The device dinged and displayed the results.

“I – my Lord,” Malavai started.

“What is it, Captain?” Ald asked calmly.

“Her claims are true,” Malavai said simply.

Ald could have fainted.

It seems as if it's been a while since a prompt has inspired me this quickly. This will likely turn out longer, but my brain won't cooperate anymore.

Silly brain.

EDIT: I changed this to the Myths and Legends prompt since his mother and father abandoning him is what starts the Brute of the Jungle Legend.

Vector and Wynston were sitting in the dining room, talking about nothing in particular. Somewhere along the way it turned to myths and ancient stories – much more Vector's bailiwick than Wynston's, but Wynston's perspective might be enlightening.

"The Chiss have a very rich cultural history." Vector said Chiss, not 'your people.' The Empire was the only nest Wynston acknowledged; the very mention of the Chiss was what had first taught Vector what Wynston's aura signaled when he was upset. "Many scholars have attempted to draw out their mythology in their studies. Few have met with any success."

"If you promise not to credit me I can tell you what I know sometime." Wynston's aura took on an acrid edge at odds with his casual speech. "I don't know if the mythology you learn in the working world is the same as what the aristocracy gets, though."

"You feel no attachment to either?"

"Of course I don't. Folklore has its uses but I've never found it interesting."

Utility as always, and a sidestep of the actual question. Vector chose to go with it. "We should think it would help in new contact situations. These stories teach what a culture values, and by extension what any given contact might find flattering, desirable, or both."

"I can ferret that out quickly enough anyway, or just check Intelligence files." Wynston leaned back a little. His aura didn't get any calmer. "Frankly I find the stories rather dull. They're all the same. Some hero finds the strength or the trick, often not entirely on his own merits. Any allies he has in this spout platitudes like there's no tomorrow. Hero saves the day. Hero gets the girl. Or he doesn't get the girl because she's taken elsewhere, some fate drops her into the underworld and she never returns. That one manages to be both trite and depressing. I never liked the lack of agency for her, any more than I like the fact that the hero can never reverse it. I can give you examples of any of those stories with very real and very relevant people; why fetishize any of it?"

"It teaches people the universal stories that inform our lives. That education, and the sense of belonging created by sharing it with sentients across history, is the point." It was, perhaps, as close to the nest consciousness as non-Killiks got.

"I prefer my life lessons to be given by the living. You get to offer more immediate feedback that way." Wynston gestured dismissively. "But like I said, if it's important to you we can sit down sometime and I'll tell what stories I remember. I do realize that you and the other students of culture aren't likely to get that offer from a real Chiss."

"We will not ask for what you're uncomfortable giving."

Wynston smiled crookedly. "I don't need to see auras to know when you're saying something you don't really want to say. It's really no hardship, we can start right now if you like. I can tell you the story of how curiosity about the leth'danaan in the snows got the Tall Man killed."

"You are very subtle," said Vector.

"As only the old stories know how to be. Now get ready to write this down, I'd hate to have my immortal words forgotten."

His aura smelled of burnt plastoid and a desire to be elsewhere; but what Wynston promised to Vector, Wynston delivered. Vector prepared his holorecorder and listened. Wynston told the old stories of the one place he had been that he refused to go back to. Fifteen years in exile didn't seem to have worn away any of the details.

Timewise this probably occurs during the Act 2/3 break or shortly thereafter, putting it well after the earlier Discoveries of Hoth but before endgame and the post-endgameAffection piece.

I don't know the name of the planet on which I was born. I couldn't even find it on a star map if I tried. It was a backwater Outer Rim planet dotted with farming villages, populated with people who concerned themselves with the growing of crops and the turning of the seasons rather than the war that would eventually undo them.

I was the fourth of seven children. My parents saw themselves as producing free farmhands rather than a family, and there was little love or attachment between us. No one in my village ever acknowledged emotion or bothered to discuss anything as abstract as love. My village had no spaceport, no news terminal, and no school.

Even as a child, I knew that I was facing the same future as my mother, who spent her days in a dark farmhouse sewing clothes for her growing staff of children. Both of my parents were shackled to the village and to their lives; they were attached out of need and not out of love. I never even believed they loved me; they certainly never showed it. Like everyone else in my hometown, they simply believed it wasn't necessary.

But I was a child, and so I was free. I ran through the brush and let my tanned skin be scratched till it bled. I scrambled up trees with the other children, because "ladylike" wasn't a term we knew. I yelled, I sang, I swam in dirty creeks and fetid lakes. I chased away the cloud that was my future.

I knew I was different. Things happened around me that I couldn't explain. Trees fell when I was angry. It rained when I was sad. Once I saw a shadow moving in the dark when I was sleeping, and before I knew what was happening an iron firebrand whizzed across the room and slammed against the wall like a weapon. The people in my village said to my parents, "Sasha always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, doesn't she?" For to them everything was mere coincidence; without a spark of imagination, they never believed I was the one who was doing it. When I swore to my mother that I was the cause of the strange events, she slapped me and told me, "Stop making up lies, Sasha." Those were probably the most words she'd ever said to me.

When I look back, I ask myself whether or not I was happy, and I can't ever answer. It was true that I knew nothing else, that compared to the other people who shared my life I was happy enough. But some of us - maybe most of us - had a hunger for something more. I was the only one who would ever achieve it, though, and had I known what else was out there, I doubt I would have wanted it so badly.

The Empire conquered us without batting an eye.

We blinked, and the village was gone. A few screams, a few blaster shots, every now and then the whirring sound of a weapon I couldn't place. Later I would realize it was a lightsaber.

I was seven, and remember so little of what happened. I recall lying, dazed, in my mother's arms. She was crouched in the corner, the house dark and silent. When I opened my eyes I caught a glimpse of my house, ransacked, the floor littered with corpses. My father, my brothers and sisters...they were all dead. My mother covered my eyes, but it was too late to shield me.

"They want you, Sasha," she whispered, holding me tight. "I don't know why, but they want you."

I whimpered. She clasped a hand over my mouth.

For a long time, she held me against her chest. I could feel her heart pounding, smell her fear in every drop of dirty sweat that dripped off of her face. She was terrified. It was the first time I saw any emotion from any of my parents, and it didn't frighten me so much as interest me. Was my mother really human? She had feelings like me? She had always seemed robotic, or otherworldly...like something that was far away from me and that I couldn't ever really get close to. I stared up at her face, her dark brown eyes roving around in fear. I was still staring at them when the door swung open with a crash.

My mother released me and screamed in a hoarse voice, "Sasha, run!" It was the last thing she ever said to me, or to anyone.

I tried to stand up, but I slammed into something hard and cold. When I looked up, I saw a monster unlike anything I had ever seen before - something partly reptilian and partly human, that spoke to me in words I couldn't understand. One of its compatriots took out a blaster and aimed it, and I heard something fall to the floor with a dull thud. My mother was dead; the Vireya family was just me now. Somehow, that was the thought that scared me the most. I couldn't quite process anything else.

The lizard-man-creature hoisted me onto his shoulder and carried me out into the light. The village was in shambles. Houses were burnt, collapsed. Corpses littered the streets, bodies of people that I knew. None of it seemed real. How could an entire town be destroyed in a matter of minutes?

The alien tossed me roughly onto the ground and said something else in his language. I propped myself up on my arms as best I could, disoriented. My eyes focused on a pair of black boots, the hemline of a black robe, in front of me. When I looked up, I nearly screamed.

The man looking down at me was not human. No, he was partly human, but somehow he was also machine. I had never seen anyone with cybernetics before, and certainly not as many as this man had. He smirked when he looked at me, and made no motion to help me up. He just watched me struggle to sit up, then to get shakily to my feet and dust off the ragged clothes I was wearing. I shook my head a little, and dirt from the ground rained out of my blonde hair.

"So you're the one I sensed here," the machine-man said to me. "Very strong. You have great power inside you, but no idea how to wield it."

He stepped closer to me and cupped my chin in his hand, tilting my face up at him. His first touch, as sickening as every other time he would put his hands on me. I averted my eyes, but I couldn't avoid seeing his twisted grin grow as he examined me.

"What's your name, little girl?"

I was too terrified to speak.

"You don't talk?" He motioned to one of the lizard men, who handed me a datapad and a pen. "Write it," he commanded.

I took it, my hands shaking. We had no school, and my parents barely had the time or energy to teach us our letters. I could barely read or write, but now my survival might depend on it. In a shaky, hesitant hand I wrote my name as best I could and handed it to the man, looking at the ground.

"This is your name?"

I didn't know what to say. I flicked my eyes up at him for a moment; he was looking at me with surprise. I looked away again.

"Odd name," he said, but he tucked away the datapad and turned with a swish of his robes. I kept standing there in the middle of the burning village, the sun beating down on me, staring at the dusty ground and my dirty toes pressing into the hard dirt.

"Come along now, Zash."

I didn't look up. The man stopped and looked back at me. "Zash, I said to come."

I realized he meant me. I'd written my name wrong! If I admitted I had made a mistake, would he kill me like he'd killed everyone else? I swallowed, afraid to lie about my name but afraid to admit I'd made a mistake. So I kept my mouth shut and followed him.

The conquerers led me out of the burning village, and I let Sasha Vireya die back in the house with my parents. As I left my homeworld for the last time, I was struck by the silence. Nobody had bothered to fight, they had simply died. Alone, a little dot on a planet that was a pin***** on a star map.

I never went back.

Wow, I am out of practice. So it probably sucks! Hopefully somebody liked it anyway! Yay!

I, for some reason, really liked the idea that this super smart and nerdy Sith started her life as an illiterate farm girl. I have a lot of weird thoughts.

They sat opposite each other in the longue of Broan's new apartment, silence hanging between them, awkward for how comfortable it was.

"I was thinking of having my tattoo done permanently, but..." He looked into his empty cup and waited. When Rochester said nothing, he continued. "I will admit I am afraid. Fear is not becoming of a Sith," His shoulders shook in a mirthless, noiseless chuckle. Broan shook his head and wiped a hand over his hair, trying to rid himself of doubt. "What if my safety as Sith is no longer I can be sure of, if I proclaim myself a Mirialan? What would become of you if something happened to me?"

He looked a Rochester expectantly, hoping that there would be something, anything, to give him direction.

"I trust that you will make the decision that is best for you," Rochester took a sip of his tea. It was bone cold and he fought the urge to grimace. Memories of deposed Sith Lords and the actions against them flooded his mind. "And I am sure that none will oppose you, especially not those under Darth Yt'klor. What I know of him... he appears lenient for the most part, because of his great thirst for knowledge," He leant back in his chair and smiled, sweet as he could manage with the images that danced in his head. "Know that I'll love you, no matter what choice you make."

Broan frowned.

"You're not saying everything you know." He was surprised at how easily he could read Rochester. For years, Broan had relied on the Force to enlighten his journey through life, but meeting a man who did not resonate in the fundamentals of existence had been trying. He had had to rely, and discover, other methods.

Rochester went to take a sip of his tea, thought better of it, and placed the cup down. There was a slight flinch under his eye and his jaw clenched. The cybernetics arms that ran across his cheeks always wobbled slightly when he did that. Broan knew those signs.

"What aren't you telling me, Rochester?"

Though he was obviously reluctant and spoke slowly at first, Rochester regaled him with tales of Sith Lords whose estates had been taken, whose families had been split or killed or even - in the most degrading of scenarios - sold into slavery. Even those whose blood had been pure were not safe from such retribution. For those who were Force blind and had status separate to the Lord they served under there was hope, if they could survive abandoning the disgraced Sith early enough. Even then, life was not simple. Those who out lived their Lord would need to ingratiate themselves quickly with another, because the nature of Sith politics held that, however unlikely, the minions of one would have secrets enough to serve or destroy another.

"So... I was right to worry for your safety." The mixture of defeat, loss and loneliness was crushing. Broan took a deep breath and attempted to steady himself. It was hard.

"Broan," Rochester slid out of his chair to kneel on the floor. He squeezed one of Broan's knees. He was trying to be comforting, but it just seemed awkward, almost forced. "There are many non-humans who are Sith. You would not be the first among them to bear markings of a non-Imperial culture."

"But you don't understand," Broan sighed, but did not allow his despair to show. "They did not... they were who they are before they became Sith. They did not risk anything by embracing their heritage."

"Do you really think that?" Broan shook his head and his shoulders slumped. He was confused. Everything was just so hard. Rochester rubbed a circle on his knee, the motion at least a small comfort. "You remember Lord Amilia, Lord Stion'n's friend? I think that, perhaps, you might talk to her. She is, after all, an alien like yourself."

Broan leant forward and pressed his forehead against Rochester's. This calmed him; the contact helped.

"Maybe I should," He kissed Rochester's forehead. "I know I'll never meet another Mirialan."

"You might."

"Why do you lie to me?" Broan swallowed hard and stared at his feet. He wanted to lean back, to breathe and stretch out the tightness in his shoulders, but he was hesitant to leave Rochester's warmth.

"It's important to have hope, even if you are just lying to yourself."

"You sound like you're talking from experience," Broan paused, reflecting on what he had just said. "F*ck, I'm sorry."

"You're just... a little preoccupied." Rochester smiled, but he seemed hurt.

"You don't have to hide from me."

Rochester sat up and pulled Broan into his embrace. Though he was silent, his touch and the small motions of his breathing told Broan all he needed to know.

Hoth. I spent two weeks helping this Gand Sergeant Yuun to locate pieces of some Imperial codebreaker in the spread-out wreckage of a small Imperial fleet. Brutal conditions. But there was an up side to being bundled up to the teeth and beyond against the cold; the face coverings discouraged idle conversation and the extra insulation made it easy to avoid…looking at anything.

I tried not to get stuck alone with Dorne. I turned into an idiot every time she talked to me. And yet she seemed determined to talk to me. Every little thing. I took to making sure Jorgan or Vik was around, at least, to break up the tension.

So when we were scoping the job that would break into an Imperial-held ship fragment hiding what we hoped were the last elements of the codebreaker, and the skill set assignment came around to where Dorne and I had to split off to disable an enemy comm station in the middle of nowhere, I wasn't happy. I did my damnedest to talk my way out of it, but the only way the plan made sense was for me and Dorne to do this while Forex, Jorgan, Vik, and Yuun were doing their own jobs elsewhere.

As soon as the planning was done I stalked toward the lift that would take us up to Hoth's forsaken surface. Dorne hurried to keep up. She couldn't quite match my stride. "Sir," she said, "I've been meaning to ask. Is there a problem?"

"Nah," I said. I kept walking. I tried not to notice the little curl of gold hair that had gotten stuck between her hood and her face mask.

"It's just that you've taken to avoiding me lately. I had hoped that we'd have resolved that friction."

"I'm not avoiding you, Dorne. I'm right here, aren't I?"

"Under duress, sir."

I didn't want her upset and I didn't want to have to explain. "I can't be talking about this."

"If I've done something to offend you it would be helpful for me to know what it is."

"You haven't done anything."

"Then why are you so determinedly staying away from me?"

"It's nothing. We do our jobs, okay? And socializing is fine. With the squad."

"But socializing with me isn't."

"Don't say it like that. Can we just go finish this?"

She looked at me a while longer, then set her jaw and gave one bob of a nod. "Of course, sir."

The hustle and bustle of the Voss market was fairly annoying. People brushed past her, ignorant of her status in the greater scheme of things. That was how she wanted it, truth be told, but it still bothered her when a shoulder came too close or an elbow nudged her side. If it hadn’t been for him, she wouldn’t even be here bothering with these people and the smells. Stars, the smells of the “fresh” food in this place. Spices and musk and the smells of the sweaty people around her. It was enough to churn her stomach.

She finally happened upon a stall selling small curios and stopped to take a look. The merchant, if this man could be called that, immediately started spewing some nonsense about where they were from, who held them previously, and would she like to take a look at his special stock, it was very powerful and very old and very, very valuable. Forged Sith artifacts no doubt, but she indulged the man. He bent down for a brief moment then popped back up with a case in his hands. It was a rather plain case, but when he opened it her eyes went wide. This was perfect. The price, not so much, but she had her mission and her haggling skills for above the mark of the average buyer. The man was impressed and, eventually, conceded defeat. Still, fifty thousand credits were hard to drop on such an item for such an occasion, but she found the perfect gift and she would never deny the receiver a thing.

Gift in hand she made her way back to the ship and to him. As expected, he was in the cargo bay examining a tablet they had uncovered on Belsavis. She knocked lightly on the frame to give him time to react to her presence. He looked up from his work and smiled at her, his dark green eyes as welcoming as always.

“Hello, my Lord. What brings you to my neck of the ship?” he asked cordially.

She smiled and stepped into the hold. “I picked up something for you in the market today.”

“My Lord, you shouldn’t have!”

She continued smiling and stopped in front of crate he had commandeered for a desk. She placed the case just to the left of his studies, far enough not to ruffle his work, but close enough to be within arm’s reach.

“I’m going to leave this here, Talos,” she said, her orange eyes shining mischievously. He wouldn’t be able to resist it for long. The man was endlessly and adorably inquisitive. “Open it at your leisure and I’m not taking it back or telling you the price and you will not pay my back for it. It’s a gift. Happy birthday.”

With that, she turned on her heel and left him to his studies. And his gift. He was successful in ignoring it for some time. The slab of granite in front of him was exceedingly more interesting than whatever was in the case. But it was his birthday and she had gotten him a gift. She was rather kind for a Sith Lord, getting him a gift like this. Going out of her way, even, to get him a gift. It would be quite rude to never open the case. And he deserved a break. Just a short one. Long enough to find out what this was.

He slid a calloused palm over the top of the case. It was a rather nice case; whatever was inside could be equally nice. No sense in getting his hopes up over the look and feel of the case. He nodded to reassure himself that opening the case was the proper thing to do then did so. Inside the case was a clear cylinder cuddled by the softest satin he had ever touched. And the cylinder. Was it really… he picked it up and examined the item inside. It was! It was a preserved rose from Taris. How marvelous and rare. This must have cost her a fortune! He could never repay her for this. To have a rare bit of Taris’ former glory in his hands. His heart beat a little bit faster in his chest. He was touched. He was more in touched; he was in awe of her kindness. Such a gift, and for a man like him, one who spent most of his time in the tombs and babbling over artifacts. Not that he considered his love of artifacts and his love of explaining them in great details babble, but those around him, even in the Reclamation service, had.

He traced the figure of the rose with the tip of his finger. Such a wonderful, thoughtful gift. Such a wonderful, thoughtful Lord. Lord Aldria. He smiled to himself then carefully tucked his gift back into the satin lined case. Perfect. And the gift was, too.

Very nervous about this piece. My Male SI has Talos and OMGSQUEE I love him. Why is he not a romance option?

Damn you, BioWare.

Mrtwo - (The Next Morning) How Rizz came to the slave pits is so sad. Bad decisions with worse consequences

luckygrrl - (LF1M) I loved this Holiday always hits my 'too sweet to be real' button, and it was delicious watching Tharan squirm when he realized he probably didn't measure up hehehe.

kabe - (Music) This was beautiful! I reread it a couple times because I loved the imagery...or melody in this case

Mags - (Music to Calm the Soul) Oh holy crap was that sweet and adorable and *melts into a little puddle* (plus shirtless men holding babies, never mind singing, is haaaawt)

Tatile - (Your Song - His Music) It's kind of amazing how a little thing like music or a smell can kick us right in the teeth and send us hurtling back into some memory. Love these two <3

EverSteam - (Music) Damin's thoughts on Kaliyo were spot-on. Nice piece

kabe - (Allies) Wow, what a neat twist! And one that makes sense of that bizarre addition to the IA's crew! Bravo!

bright - (Alternate Perspectives) Wynston's musings on Quinn/Ruth - awesome "some plastiboard box somewhere more worthy of love" LOL!

Ves - (Guilty Pleasures) Awww, Tess is so adorable and I just want to hug her. Crushing sucks. The constant self-doubt and ups and downs and...ugh, yeah, crushing sucks.

Striges - (Music) It must be beautiful to see music in auras, what a gorgeous image.

bright - (Music - Colran) Nice people! And music! And a suspicious once and future Sith, lol. Very nice.

The drums echoed off the hillsides of the valley in deep, dark heart pulses. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. They carried clearly through the night air from the primitive war camp on the other side of the ridge.

Crae frowned as a sharp strangled cry broke the silence between the drumbeats. Bolt through the chest rather than the neck. Fool had jumped.

Skari wouldn't be there till tomorrow with the part. One worn piece of durasteel, and the simple trip to pick up his wife had turned into an unscheduled landing in the wilderness of this planet. Crae breathed the cool forest-rich night air in before he leaned out the window and dropped another rushing body. Landed directly on some sacred land, to judge by the rabid creatures who had swarmed out of their camp.

"Outside. Drums. Boom boom!"

Crae jerked his head around at the sound of his daughter's high happy voice. Lonny was bouncing on her tiptoes in her pajamas looking out at the firelit forest through the cockpit window.

"Go outside, Daddy?" she asked, looking over at him with her bright gold eyes.

An angry rage-filled scream broke the silence and the little girl jumped. "Daddy?" she called in panic.

He lowered the silenced blaster, walked over and scooped her up in one arm. "Don't fret, precious, I'm here."

She snuggled into his chest as he walked back to his position, hiding her face in his neck. Crae kissed her on the forehead as he shot yet another warrior racing across the open space.

"Put your head down, go to sleep," he said.

"Drums, Daddy," she murmered.

Another corpse fell to the ground. "Yes, drums, precious. Go back to sleep."

Title's from Pet by Perfect Circle: "Counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the wardrums..." as are a few of the lines.

That song is Crae at his protective worst. He's not quite as messed up as the song though...now...most of the time... hehe.

Jaci popped open another can of beer and swung her feet up onto the controls. She kicked aside a few chocolate wrappers and empty crisp packets, revealing the dull glow of engine readouts underneath. Space was big and full of opportunity. That was why she came up in the first place. She just never imagined it could be so big or so... lonely.

She toed the dial on the interstellar comms and waited. White noise started at first but eventually, out of the great darkness, there came a rhythmic tapping and the sound of voices. She was only just in range, on the edge of civilization, staring out into the great starry beyond. She needed to be back among people, any people, and the music only made the longing worse.

The heat would die down in a couple of days. It was a small crime, smuggling pleasure toys and incense, but she had run into the wrong people on the way out.

She slid down in her chair, cranked up the volume and wondered if the market would still be there when she got back. Imperial "uniforms" indeed.

Selentar - (Virtues/Deadly Sins) Loved the bits from the companions. You really got their voices down.

Milani - (Health) Awesome description in this piece. Her aches and pains were really clear and bore testament to how hard coming off spice was.

Striges - (Things I Hate to Ship) Awesome, just awesome Especially the last line, lol. Mako convo spoiler:

Tatile - (Life and Death) Broan coming face to face with an old frienemy was really great, although him being upset by the loss of the library was my favorite part

Striges - (Why I Hate customs) Lol, just stay in your shells sweethearts, just stay in your shells.

Ves - (Backfired Plans) *jaw drop* This...is...fabulous. Omg, what a hateable cold Quinn. This makes perfect perfect sense <3 Omg I love it. *hugs Tess* You poor, poor girl.

bright - (Health - Vierce) I love Vierce's awkwardness. It's all the more precious because he's so confident and in charge in the field. Love him

Striges - (Alternate Perspectives - Kaliyo) Her dragging off the covers of the made bed was perfect, lol.

Striges - (To Market, To Market - Kirya and the SW crew) Omg, this whole thing was hilarious lol. Love it!

bright - (To Market, To Market - Wynston) Kaliyo's ideas have marvelous way of coming back to bite her. Too bad she likes that on occasion, lol.

Kouhun gently placed his chalk down on his front-facing desk and gave a small smile to his class of adolescent colonists.

“Class is dismissed.” He stated simply.

Wild cheer erupted as the kids ran from the classroom, eager to get started on a short summer of fun and play.

Kouhun was excited too, but for a reason totally unrelated to an end-of-school cliché celebration.

He had his wife waiting for him; what sentient male in the galaxy didn’t find absolute joy in that concept? The large Rattataki grabbed his leather teaching satchel from behind his desk and exited the classroom. His heavy footfalls echoed peacefully on the cheap but practical clay tile floor.

Nodding a respectful farewell to the principal standing guard at the school exit doors, Kouhun broke out into a slight jog as soon as the door slid shut behind him.

The Rattataki slowed to a walk in front of the one-story straw and clay structure he called home.

His house was much like the school’s wooden floors, and in fact mostly everything else in the colony. The colonists were fine with cheap and practical; they could afford fancy stuff with some budget cuts, but big luxuries were for rich people and Imperials.

Rich cultural music filled his ears as he pushed the door open. Not Rattataki, of course; they weren’t much good for anything but killing. No, it was his school’s own band that had produced this deep piece.

Kouhun walked slowly through the kitchen, subconsciously placing his satchel on the wood counter as he looked for his beloved. The open door to their dance room stuck out like a sore thumb in the tranquility of his abode, clearly a tease.

Being as quiet as a hulking Rattataki can be, Kouhun crept towards the door and began to push it open.

And then he woke up.

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

Rizantos Terso sat beside him on the shuttle’s metal bench, the only living space they had been provided.

The annoying noise that had awoken him from his nostalgic slumber echoed from the quivering jowls of his companion.

While Kouhun mourned quietly for his losses, Rizz seemed to prefer to eat. A lot.

Kouhun was no stranger to chewstim. Anyone who had ever cleaned out a school classroom had to get quite familiar with it on a regular basis. He had never had to sleep during class, however.

“Must you?” he muttered curtly at the Sullustan.

Rizz let out a sad sigh and rid himself of the sticky noisemaking annoyance by spitting it on the floor, where it would no doubt be stepped on by someone later, that person likely being Kouhun.

Well, it was better than nothing.

Kouhun wearily resumed his lounging position and attempted to recapture his dream.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

A low growl simmered in Kouhun’s gullet.

“Sorry.” Rizz mumbled through a mouthful of solidified Boaboo fungus.

It was going to be quite a long shuttle ride.

Irishfino: I was hoping something like that would happen to Ald, unresolved family conflict is like a ripe fruit ready to be harvested.

Bright: The background element of aura sensing gives a nice touch to this exchange. I like that you use Vector's abilities to give a unique perspective rather then it just being him talking.

Elliotcat: This was beautifully written. If this is your writing out of practice, I'll have to go back a couple hundred pages and read more of your stories.

Tatile: Powerfully written, makes me ponder the Legacy System and how a Sith could be a Sith and still have individual cultural beliefs and ideals.

Irishfino: Even though I haven't got to Talos yet in the SI storyline, I love this. The way you incorporate the thoughts of Talos into the text provides so much information about his habits without long detailed explanations.

Iamthehoyden: After reading the full Crae fic, reading these aftermath stories is fun and enlightening.

Tatile: I hope your luck turns up soon. This made me feel a bit better after a long day.

The agent sat on the edge of the bed, knees drawn close to her chest. A stubborn chill permeated her bones, never mind that the thermoregulator indicated that she should be comfortable. Worry about tomorrow was unshakeable.

KInka had faced difficult missions before, but this was different. Keeper’s holocall had shaken her to the core; it had occurred to her that she might someday be captured and interrogated, but it never crossed her mind that she’d be offering herself up for it. Now on the eve of uncertainty, it was all she could think about.

Kinka sent the rest of the crew away for the evening and hoped that Corellia’s spaceport cantina would keep them entertained for the night. Meanwhile, she sought refuge within, hoping to steel herself for what would come. The kinds of things her captors would do weren’t a mystery; interrogation techniques are well-known to Intelligence officers. She thought back on the tests required to even become an agent, one of which was enduring a random sampling of torture techniques. You break, you fail, as it is with most things in the Empire. But her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar voice outside the door to her quarters.

“Agent?”

Vector. He hadn’t gone with the rest after all. He was the only member of the crew privy to what would happen in the morning. Kinka had sent him out with the others, too, but he hadn’t listened. Smart man.

“Come in.”

“We hope we’re not intruding. It’s just...we...I thought you should have someone with you tonight.” He struggled with the words slightly, working to wrestle control of his mind in order to give her the privacy she deserved.

“You’re not interrupting,” she said stoically. It took Kinka a great deal of strength to drag herself out of her self-pity, but for him she could manage. “You’re always welcome with me.”

“You’re frightened for tomorrow,” he said, joining her at the end of the bed. “The interrogation.”

There was no need to ask it.

“I am frightened about a great many things, Vector. Surprisingly, torture is the least of those.”

“Pain doesn’t bother you?”

“Oh, it does. Very much. But I don’t fear it the way most people do. They train that out of you when you join Intelligence. After a while, you’re desensitized to it.”

“Did they hurt you there?” he asked. They had never talked about these things before. There had never been time to really delve into each others’ pasts. They always meant to, but stolen moments were the best they had been able to manage. It seemed like one disaster fed into the next, almost from the moment they met on Alderaan. That seemed like so long ago now.

She nodded wearily. “But not as much as some of the others I trained with.”

“You have lived a difficult life. We...I cannot imagine.”

Kinka sat quietly for a while, mulling over his words. A difficult life, yes, but perhaps not undeserved. Vector was a good, gentle soul, and she was stained with blood from head to foot. She had tried so hard to put the bad behind her, to convince herself that she had changed — and she had — but it was impossible to forget the ghosts in her not-so-distant past.

“You know, there have been so many times that I’ve considered becoming a Joiner so that we could share the kind of connection you have with the hive. To truly be one. But then I remember what you’ve said about remembering everything that ever happened to those like you, everything said, everything done...”

He continued to listen patiently, wondering, she was certain, where her rambling was headed.

“And I remember things that I’ve done in the past, horrible things. When I started my career I was dropped onto Hutta, a festering pile of dung if there ever was one. Corrupt to the core, violent, insane. I adopted a habit of being cruel for the sake of being cruel, and I had the seal of the empire behind me. I thought that that was how I was supposed to be. So long as the empire wasn’t in jeopardy, I could be bought, and killing someone was always an easier option to take than negotiation. But slowly I began to realize that there was another way. That cruelty wasn’t a tool that I should be using. Kaliyo once remarked that even she was startled by the number of bodies piling up behind us, which is the biggest wakeup call a person can get. By the time I met you, I had committed to changing. I’d never met someone so kind and at peace as you. I wanted to be worthy of you.”

She found herself unable to meet his gaze. “I’m not sure I ever will.”

He looked at his agent soulfully and gently turned her to face him. It was then that she finally noticed that he had suppressed the pheremonic bond with the hive, a rare treat that wasn’t lost on her.

His steely eyes glistened. “You are perfect to me, agent, past and all. We all make mistakes.”

“Sometimes I feel like these things that have happened — the brainwashing, the torture — that they’re punishment for the things I’ve done,” Kinka confessed, her voice betraying a slight tremor that unnerved her. She wasn’t used to being vulnerable, even with Vector. Vulnerability will get you killed, she often told her herself.

“The universe doesn’t work that way,” he countered gently. “I truly believe that. And you wouldn’t be submitting yourself to capture and interrogation if you weren’t a good person. Bad people do not care whether the galaxy burns.”

A sad smile played at her lips as she recalled a memory. “I keep thinking about that planet you told me of once, the one with a sky the color of ocean...sometimes I think we should just slip away, fall off the radar.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Kinka sighed and shook her head.

“You’ll be with me tomorrow,” she said quietly. It was the one thing that offered some measure of comfort, but with it came a whole other set of worries. After all, Vector would be in just as much danger as she would. But if it worried him at all, he didn’t show it in ways that she could detect.

“Of course, agent. I’ll be with you always. We will make it through this alright.”

He turned as if to give his worried agent the privacy she had earlier insisted she wanted, but her hands firmly took his.

“I do fear tomorrow,” she said, her voice rushed and desperate. “You were right, Vector. But I’m not afraid of the pain or of letting something slip that I shouldn’t — I know quite well how to hold my tongue. What I am afraid of is giving up. I’m afraid that the pain will overwhelm me to the point where I’ll decide that death would be a release. That then no one would be able to hurt me or manipulate me anymore. I’m afraid I’ll stop fighting.”

He gazed at her face, unable to read her aura but acutely aware of her fear. Her eyes glistened with panic and sadness.

“You need something to fight for.”

He pulled her in close and pressed his soft lips against hers, the chill in Kinka’s bones abating for the time being.

“Stay with me tonight,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“As you wish.”

Talos. Adorable. Always.

I think my Assassin smiled in all the companion scenes with Talos, but the last one. I smiled in all of them.

Irishfino: I was hoping something like that would happen to Ald, unresolved family conflict is like a ripe fruit ready to be harvested.

I've wanted to get to it for some time and his vacation on Alderaan seemed as good a place as any. Now if my brain would allow me to write more, lol.

Irishfino: Even though I haven't got to Talos yet in the SI storyline, I love this. The way you incorporate the thoughts of Talos into the text provides so much information about his habits without long detailed explanations.

I was so nervous about Talos not coming across well. He's new for me and new things are scary. I'm so glad he's coming out rather nicely.

@irishfino Talos is always adorable. Always.

I want a Talos plushie, lol. He's just so... adorkable! I love him.

Thanks for reading!

Talos Drellik was a very small man with a very large passion for artifacts and all things history. He loved to read, to explore, to talk about past discoveries and potential future ones. And nothing, nothing at all, could possibly top examining a bit of history with a wonderful opera playing in the background. The music helped him hone in small details while allowing him even more enjoyment, if that were even possible. And it was.

Aldria, the ever so indulging Sith Lord, was somewhere. He was sure of it. Well, of course he was sure of it, he had disabled the traps in this tomb himself. He was rather good at it if he did say so himself. And he did. Without dying, even. Nothing got the blood pumping like a timed trap or one teeming with electricity. And that thought reminded him of Hoth and when he first met the woman who would become his current boss. He was quite presumptuous to think she would take him on his ship and he had gone as far as to retire from the service all together! But tombs were all about risk taking and if he could take that leap and fall into her arms, well, it was worth it. To his surprise, and never ending joy, she did reach out to catch him as gravity caught up with him and the weight of his decision nearly drove him from her hangar bay and back into the arms of the Reclamation Service.

Oh, where had his thoughts gone? His favorite part of the opera was upon him. A story of power, intrigue, fighting, and, the thought made him smile a bit wistfully, love. Oh, how he loved a good opera. And the lyrics! Oh, the lyrics sang to him. Well, they were sung to him, but they resonated inside him and he loved the feeling of being swept up and taken away by music. As no one was around, he felt safe enough to sing along, albeit quietly. He didn’t want a passerby to hear him singing and start asking questions. It wasn’t that he was self-conscious, but, well, no one needed to hear ear torture, now did they? Of course, some found him chatting about artifacts to be ear torture. Too bad for them. He loved what he loved and damn the rest.

As the opera reached it climax he found it irresistible to toss in a little dance step here and there. It was subconscious, really. One did not dance to an opera while partaking in the viewing of one, but a recording was another matter. He could place himself in another time, another place, and enjoy himself to the fullest.

“Might I join you?” asked a voice.

Talos jumped, bumping his temporary desk harshly. His precious stone tablet began to list and fall and his heart dropped in his chest. Damn distraction was going to cost him such a priceless artifact. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. As quickly as it started, the stone tablet stopped its collision course and righted itself. He sighed, dabbed at his forehead with the back of his hand, and turned toward his savior.

“Oh, th-thank you, my Lord,” he said. “I don’t know what I would have done had I caused such a terrible fate to befall something so wonderful.”

“It’s quite alright, Talos,” Aldria replied. “I didn’t mean to scare you; you looked so content I had to ask for a dance.”

“A-A dance? With – with me? Oh, my Lord, I would be honored!” He beamed at her then moved to his music device. “What about a nice Waltz? Something more… conductive to dancing?”

“I was enjoying the opera, but if you would prefer to Waltz, well, who am I to deny you your comfort?”

He paused at that, his finger over the seek button. The opera was about settle in on a more – oh dear, dare he? He dared.

He turned to her and smiled. “Right, then,” he said. “We’ll continue with the opera.”

They danced and danced only taking small breaks to take notes on a few new theories. All in all, it was the best academic session of Talos’ life.

Talos, I love you. I love you so much I allowed this idea to steal me from sleep.