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Irrepareable Damage


Kitar

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I have been meaning to post this story for quite some time. My intention was to start back in March, so needless to say time has gotten away from me. So no more procrastinating, I have decided to finally torture all of you fine people with it.

Some of you might remember a few stories I posted on the Short Fic Weekly Thread, ages ago, featuring a certain Trooper companion. This is the fleshed out story. Quite a few of them were written a few years ago, it was my way of joining in the SFWC from the sidelines, written for fun and never posted. I can tell they are older when I reread them, but I do not wish to rewrite them. I hope it is not to jarring. I attempted to fill in the gaps so it would flow better, instead of being little snippets into the lives of the individuals I had chosen to write about.

 

Spoilers will be touched upon for the Trooper Story line as well as the Sith Warrior and Imperial Agent. It is also written with the assumption that the reader has made it through the original game content. None of the expansions will be covered, since the story itself, does, during the course of the telling, deviate from the game storyline. If needed I will try to remember to note additional spoilers for ingame missions, as well as any triggers.

 

I also want to thank my dear friend Alaurin for being such a fantastic sport and reading through all of these. There are quite a lot and her feedback has always been very appreciated and valued.

 

I hope you enjoy... If not, don't throw tomatoes at me!

CHAPTER 1

 

 

 

YEAR 3654

DROMAND KAAS

 

Lightning arched dancing through the dark turbulent clouds that blotted out the sky, curtains of rain fell onto the encroaching jungle below while sky shattering thunder rolled through the heavens. It was the emotional mirror of the sole sentinel below, who quietly held vigil, as the once bright pyre was burning low. Slowly she paced, her feet following a smooth worn path in the ancient stone courtyard beneath the vine covered archaic carved pavilion.

 

Clutched in her hand was a saber hilt, white knuckled her grip, as if clutching the weapon so tightly would keep him here longer. She looked at the weapon hilt in her hand, ner’cyar’ika dar’jetii’kad, her amazing Mandalorian Sith. Her’s. She could no longer look at the pyre behind her, it had burned low, it was almost gone taking with it the worldly remains of her cyar’ika. She stared up into the tormented sky remembering.

 

The first time she had seen him, across the red rocky desert sands of Korriban, he was exiting a tomb, smile on his face. She could not stop watching him; he smiled at her as he passed, on his way into the Academy. Tall, lanky, a couple years older than she, skin a golden tan, five small horns adorned his brow poking out of a mop of golden hair. He moved with a subtle ease most lacked, a quiet confidence that nothing could hurt him.

 

She had inquired about him, discovered he was a halfbreed called Tyzoth, his father was a Human his mother Zabrak, and everyone steered clear of him. When she asked why, he had seemed the least threatening person here, she was informed he was a Mandalorian, the only one at the Academy and he had already killed one acolyte with his bare hands. Her eyebrow rose as she stared at the fellow acolyte not understanding why he was so dangerous, that is what acolytes did. He leaned in and whispered the story.

 

Two years prior, in front of the class, an overeager upstart had decided to start thinning the ranks and foolishly attacked him, the Mandalorian had patiently waited for him to get close, slipped inside the reach of his practice blade and snapped his neck with fluid efficiency. Another was so stupid as to attack in some misguided attempt to avenge their friend. The Mando had stopped him mid jump, holding him in the Force, smiling he had stalked up to the suspended Human tilted his head to the side studying him, with a shrug of his shoulders he closed his hand snapping his neck, dropping the body to the sand. When no one else made a move toward him he turned and walked off whistling into a nearby tomb to work on that day’s lesson.

 

Later they had discovered the bodies of five more acolytes; they all had been killed in the same manner. No defensive wounds, no wounds to the body at all just broken necks. Word spread like fire through the halls, anyone who confronted him died shortly thereafter. Since then everyone gave him a wide berth, every new class they found the bodies of those foolish enough to ignore their classmates advise. He always snapped their necks, it was his way to keep track, to count the number of foes who had fallen to him.

 

Needless to say she was intrigued. She would catch glimpses of him around the Academy; it was not until two weeks later that she saw him again. She had been moved into a different training class when it was apparent she was well beyond the basics. When she walked into the class the older acolytes had already been paired off, the only one remaining was the halfbreed Mando. She smiled to herself and went to stand next to him.

 

She had no idea such a simple pairing was going to lead to something so important. As a sparring partner he was excellent, quick agile always anticipating and adapting, training quickly became the highlight of her day. After one especially challenging session, she extended the invitation to dinner. He accepted flashing a radiant smile.

 

She could not remember when they became inseparable, it just happened gradually over the months. Acquaintances became friends, then lovers then he became her cyar’ika. They moved together like ghosts through the academy, ignoring the petty squabbling and scheming of the other acolytes.

 

In retrospect she knew why they were ignored, he was from clan Lok, not only was he feared but overseers did not want the wrath of Mandalore himself to come down on them. The protective shield was extended further by her family, an old family with deep Imperial roots rich in Sith bloodlines. She should have known that eventually they would attract unwanted attention.

 

It came in the form of a Pureblood, a slender arrogant narcissist Pureblood. She did not fault the woman’s tastes; they were excellent. What she found inexcusable was her utter and complete lack of language comprehension. It was utterly baffling, the more she was rebuked the more persistent she became. She had politely told the Pureblood to go choke on her saber, that Tyzoth was hers. Her cyar’ika had actually informed the narcissistic stalker, in both Basic and Mando’a, that she was wasting her time. Though her favorite dismissal was when Tyzoth had Forced pulled her to him, kissed her in front of the entire academy and carried her off. She felt her chest warm and her lips tingle as she remembered, she brought her right hand to her lips trying to hold onto the fading feeling.

 

They should have known, the single-minded Pureblood was not going to ever back off. A week later she had been in class, reading the philosophy of some slightly mad Sith lord of little consequence when she felt it. A sharp stabbing that tore through the Force. Her eyes locked on the instructor, he looked back at her eyes wide, it was all the confirmation she needed. Leaping from her seat she had Force pulled his saber from his belt to her hand and bolted out of the room before he could utter a sound.

 

Racing through the academy she dodged and danced past wandering students. Erupting from the building she stumbled momentarily as the ever bright Korriban sun blinded her, shielding her eyes she darted to the bank of waiting speeders and tore off following the Force. She knew where he was, he had gone off to hunt the beasts in the crypts, but what she felt, that was no animal strike. Dread filled her.

 

The speeder slid to a stop as she cut the engine and Force leapt off of the machine. Hitting the ground running she followed the terrible wound in the Force. Past the antechamber she found them, he has barely upright, listing heavily clutching his side. The Pureblood was bleeding profusely, her left arm was broken but she still clutched her saber threatening him. He sneered at the Pureblood, sensing her approach he spat at the Pureblood’s feet, “Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur.”

 

The Pureblood bristled, “Can’t you speak Basic.”

 

She walked slowly into the room, her requisitioned saber drawn; the crimson blade casting bloody shadows. “Honestly, you have been chasing him and can’t speak a drop of Mando’a,” she shook her head, “utterly pathetic.”

 

The Pureblood glared at her, “and you can,” she hissed.

 

“Of course all Mando’ade can,” she flashed the Pureblood a feral smile. “Could not take the hint could you,” she stalked closer to the injured woman. “You want to know what he said?” she hissed, her voice dripped with venom, “He said ‘Today is a good day for someone else to die’.”

 

The Pureblood stared at her the fear she emitted was a heady perfume, closing her eyes she drank it in, relishing in it. The Pureblood staggered tripping over her feet as she tried to back away, she fell with a sickening thud to the dusty stone floor. Her saber clattered uselessly to the ancient stones, rolling away from her. Slowly she advanced on her prolonging her demise. “Mandalorian by marriage and blood you witless fool, how you have lived this long is beyond me.” The Pureblood's eyes widened, it finally sunk in, her eyes jumped from her approaching form to the wounded Zabrak.

 

He glared, growled, “Di’kutla aruetyc,” cursing at her and spit again. He staggered to the side but remained on his feet.

 

The Pureblood’s eyes again locked on her approaching death. “But I didn’t know…”

 

“Oh you were told,” she hissed as she plunged her requisitioned saber through her chest.

 

She ran to her mate, he collapsed against her, his weight dragging her to her knees. Gently she eased him to the dusty tomb floor, her hands covered in blood. There was so much blood. She brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I’m here, I have you,” she whispered.

 

His yellow eyes focused on her, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner’riduur,” blood speckled his lips, he coughed, the crimson spread down his chin.

 

She cradled his head; wiping away the blood she kissed him, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner’riduur.” She felt him start to fade, his once bright Force signature slowly dimming, under her hands his hearts slowed.

 

He smiled at her his rough hand caressed her cheek, “I will always love you my beautiful Sith,” the words foreign on his tongue. She clutched him tighter; he never spoke Basic.

 

She kissed him again words catching in her throat; his heartbeats continued to slow, “until the last hunt is completed and the final stars burn from the heavens, I will love you.” He smiled and struggled to raise his head to kiss her. His heart stopped under her hand, seconds later its twin followed it into eternal silence. She sat there unmoving holding him, clutching him tightly against her chest, willing his heartbeats to return.

 

A huge powerful presence knocked her from her remembrance, shoving her into the here and now. She stared out over the jungle waiting; it filled the pavilion behind her, flowing towards her as he walked behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on hers he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Father,” she turned and rested her head against his chest.

 

“I came as soon as I heard.”

 

She looked up into her face’s mirror; his deeply shadowed green eyes radiated concern, his disheveled red hair streaked with silver, he had not slept.

 

“You would have liked him,” she sighed.

 

He smiled down at her, “I know, I just arranged to take him as an apprentice. Who did it?” he brushed a wet auburn lock off her face.

 

She smirked, “just another nameless ghost of the tombs.”

 

His eyebrow rose in an arch as he contemplated her. “No body, no crime?” he asked.

 

“The crypt beasts will not hunger for acolytes for a while,” she smiled. He nodded and kissed her forehead.

 

She sighed into his chest, “His parents are here on Dromund Kaas, I have to tell them in person, they don’t know yet.”

 

“I will go with you,” he said quietly.

 

She sighed, “At least I have good news to cushion the bad. I will not be returning to the Academy any time soon I have something more important to do.”

 

He smiled broadly, “I thought I felt another presence.” He hugged her tighter, “I had not expected a grandson so soon.”

 

She smiled a weak smile into his chest, “Neither did we.” She sighed, “You will get your apprentice Father, have to wait a few years though. Tyzoth was so excited, he wanted him to know both sides of his family, looks like you get to learn Mando’a Father.”

 

 

 

AN:

 

 

Mando’a, it's fun for you and me:

 

Dar’jeti’kal – Sith light saber

Dar’jeti – no longer jedi/Sith kal - saber

Cyar’ika – beloved, sweetheart

di’kutla’ - idiotic

aruetyc foreign, or even traitorous, but generally "not Mandalorian"

Riduur – partner/spouse

ner’- my

Tuur-day Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - love you forever

 

On a side note, to show how old some of these are, I looked this one up. I wrote it back in April of 2013... the prompt I believe was Turning Point.

 

 

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Hey guys and gals. I am going to attempt to post twice a week unless something happens.

I had every intention to post this earlier but I got totally wrapped in the season finale of GoT and it didn't happen until now.

 

Sadly this isn't new, this was posted about three years ago in the Short Fic Thread So it might be old news to the people who have been hanging out in the Forums for awhile. The next chapter will be new though :)

 

Spoilers:

 

 

Spoilers for Quest Cave 54 on Imperial Balmorra

 

CHAPTER 2

 

 

Year 3645

 

BALMORRA

 

Tiny little fingers clutched her ring finger, they were warm and soft, gripping her hand and leading her deeper into the cave complex, outside the constant din of artillery fire droned on. Occasionally an earthmoving explosion would rumble through the vaulted stone ceiling, dropping stone fragments and dirt on their heads. She smiled to herself and allowed the little boy to take her … where was he taking her? Just moments before the little boy had been hitting her leg, yelling at her, bravely accusing her of being a bad man.

 

He had appeared from behind the large counsel that occupied the middle of the room, while she had been speaking to a Commander Hunn about the caves mysterious contents. While he nervously broke it down for her, explaining that everyone in the cave had a small degree of Force sensitivity, but they were not strong enough to survive the Academy. The little boy charged up to her, his little face determined, as he started to pummel her leg. His little fists furiously thudded on the durasteel greave. Hunn‘s eyes widened as he tried to pull the boy off of her.

 

She watched the boy amused; she raised her hand and the man backed up. Lowering her cowl she spoke, “do I look like a man to you?”

 

He stopped hitting, staring up at her with large blue eyes. Shaking his head no he looked at her, his little mouth set in a determined little line, “You are still bad.”

 

“Am I now,” she knelt down to his level. Behind her she heard the Commander, he was hissing through clenched teeth at the boy, telling him to be quiet.

 

“Do I look bad to you,” she smiled at the child.

 

“No,” he shook his head, “You’re pretty.”

 

“Thank you,” she smiled, “why am I bad?”

 

“You have on black and,” he pointed, “you have that.”

 

She grinned, her hand going to the saber hilt on her hip. “This is called a lightsaber. Jedi have lightsabers, does that make Jedi bad?”

 

He looked at her his little face still concentrating. “No,” he decided, “Jedi are good.”

 

“Well can’t I be good?” She smiled at him; he looked at her, his large blue eyes studying her. She felt the man behind her back up, the fear he exuded began to grow, began to build, tempting her. But now was not the time, nor the place, she ignored the siren call and focused her attention on the little boy.

 

“Maybe,” the little boy decided, his bottom lip stuck out as he frowned, “but good people won’t hurt us.”

 

“Now,” she smiled, “who said I was going to hurt you, I was talking to Commander Hunn when you started hitting me.” She feigned a wounded expression pouting at the little boy, “You hurt me.” She deepened her pout.

The little boy looked so ashamed, “I’m sorry big not bad lady.”

 

“It’s okay,” she reached out and ruffled his copper hair, “truce?”

 

“Truice?” he asked.

 

“Well,” she said smiling, “we agree to be friends for a little while, no hitting.”

 

He looked from her to Hunn who was cowering behind him.

 

So sad, a small child was the brave one.

 

“Ok,” he set his determined little jaw, “truice.”

 

She smiled, at his determination, his bravery, at his utter and complete lack of fear, of all the emotions that rolled of his tiny frame; fear was not one of them.

 

“We were just going to take a little walk, I wanted to explore this cave, do you know any neat places in here?”

His face broke out into a huge beaming grin, “oh I do!”

 

She looked over her shoulder to the waiting azure skinned Twi’lek, the woman just raised her eyebrows and grinned. She shifted her weight to her other foot and resumed leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, hands casually resting on the butts of her blasters. She nodded and reclined her head against the wall, eyes scanning the entrance tunnel. Turning her attention back to the little boy she wrinkled up her nose, “Why don’t you show me? I’d love to see them.”

 

And now they were headed deeper into the cave complex, as he led her along she reached out feeling the occupants. Hunn was right they all had varying degrees of weak connections; some were almost non-existent others were dull pulses in the flow of the Force. The strongest connection she felt, aside from herself was the brave little tour guide dragging her deeper into the dimly lit subterranean maze, the little boy practically glowed.

He stopped suddenly pulling her back to her surroundings, in front of them was a small crevasse in the cave wall, he dropped her finger and wiggled inside. His little face poked back out and he excitedly gestured for her to follow him. Right, that’s going to be a fun fit. Containing her annoyance she squeezed herself through the tight opening and into a small room. Within lay shining stones surrounding a small broken soldier, a ratty blanket laying over a small dusty sleeping pad, nestled into the makeshift bed was a stuffed bantha doll. He scooted over to the bed and turned on a beaten up lamp, the light illuminating the sorry contents.

 

He smiled and gestured to the room, “My special place.”

 

“Oh yes,” she agreed, “it is very special.” Crouching down, her black robe pooling around her she picked up a shining stone. “Very pretty, what do you use these for,” asking even though she had a pretty good idea.

 

“Oh it’s my secret game, do you tell secret games when you have a truice?”

 

“Of course you do,” she purred, smiling at him.

 

“Okay,” he jumped next to the pile of stones, he reached out a little hand and a stone lifted up off the ground and flew into the soldier. The soldier flew against the cave wall lying there staring, his broken blaster rifle stuck in the dirt floor.

 

“That looks like a fun game, may I try?”

 

He giggled and retrieved the mangled soldier and placed him back by the glittering stones. Crouching next to him she reached out, focusing on a little stone and shoved it into the tiny man. She laughed, it was fun, she watched him bounce and roll coming to a stop far along the wall.

 

“Do you have any other fun games you like to play?”

 

“Well,” he stuck out his tongue concentrating, several of the small stones lifted and floated about in the air catching and reflecting the lamplight sending prisms around the small alcove.

 

“Oh I like that one too.”

 

“Are you going to stay and play with me,” he looked up at her hopeful.

 

“Not today little one I’m afraid all of you are going to have to move, maybe some other time. I do have something for you,” she smiled down at him and ruffled his hair.

 

His blue eyes lit up, “is it a present?” he asked. “I like presents.”

 

“It is a gift, but you are to keep it safe until you are older and can properly use it.”

 

That morning during her daily meditation she had received the passing whisper in the Force, to keep her eyes open, to look for a little worthy one. Always one to listen to these little tidings she had grabbed her first saber hilt off her meditation altar and slipped it into her bag. She pulled the ancient relic out of her robe pocket and presented the aged Sith hilt to the small boy. “Now this,” she held the hilt in her hand, “is very old and very special, when you are older you may use it, keep it safe.”

 

The boy stared at the silver and black hilt, blues eyes wide and shining. “That’s for me?” his little voice was filled with amazement. She nodded and he picked the hilt out of her outstretched hand. “But I don’t know how to use it.” He held onto the hilt tightly with both hands.

 

She smiled, “You are going to take a special trip, the people there will teach you.”

 

He looked up at her, “Are you going to come too?”

 

“No youngling I can’t, not today, one day I will come and bring you home though.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes really.”

 

“How about your parents, won’t they be coming with you?” She asked.

 

He frowned, his blue eyes grew sad, “Mum and Dad are gone.” He answered confirming her suspicions.

 

“I’m very sorry to hear that what, is your name?”

 

He looked at her frowning, “It is Ka’van and I’m four.”

 

“Really four? Such a big boy, and you have a very nice name. What is your last name?”

 

He just shook his head.

 

“You don’t know,” she asked.

 

“Nope,” his frown deepened. He looked up at her, “Do you have a last name?”

 

She smiled, “Yes I do, its Darksun.”

 

“Darksun,” he repeated, “it’s pretty can I have your last name.”

 

She smiled, trying not to laugh, his little face was so serious. “It’s a very old name, would you like to know more?”

 

“Ok,” he said he sat down and waited.

 

She reached over and gently turned the saber over so the butt was facing them. Engraved on the bottom was a black and red disk with flames radiating out. “It’s a sun,” he said smiling.

 

“Very good, it’s a dark sun.” He was watching her intently, eyes locked onto her face.

 

“Suns are powerful, right?” He nodded. “And all suns give off light right?” she asked. He nodded. “Now a dark sun, it looks dark and scary.” He nodded clutching the saber. “But even a sun made of darkness has an inner light, if you are too quick to judge you might miss it, but it’s there. Do you understand?”

 

He looked at her his tongue slightly sticking out as he concentrated. He nodded his head yes, “Don’t judge the sun by the outside.”

 

“Good,” she smiled and ruffled his hair, “remember that, use this,” she pointed to his head, “and this,” she pointed to his gut, “Before you make a decision. Don’t forget that sometimes the big bad lady is actually nice.”

He reached out grabbing her wrapping her in his little arms. She wrapped her arms around him. “So can I have it?” he asked quietly.

 

She whispered in his ear, “Yes you can have it, you can be a Darksun, just never forget what it means.”

 

“I won’t, promise.”

 

“Good boy, now we should get going, I can only stay for a little bit while longer.”

 

He continued to hold on, “What is your name?”

 

“It is Kit’ar, but you can call me Kit, if you want, all my bestest friends do.”

 

“They do?”

 

“Yeap,” she nodded.

 

He smiled from ear to ear. “Ok Lady Kit we can go.” He ran over and put the saber hilt on his bed under his stuffed bantha.

 

She stood to attempt to leave the room when she paused, reached into her pocket and pulled out a credit stick. “Ka’van, this is for you,” she handed him the stick, he just stared at it, she chuckled. “It’s not a lot, but if you need it you will have it.” He smiled grabbing it he ran and put it into a hole in the bantha. She watched him wiggle the chip securely inside, who needs banks when you have a portable bantha? She shook her head. “You ready to go?” He nodded and squeezed past her and out into the main cavern.

 

Joining him on the other side she dusted her robes off, way to tight of a fit, she shook her head when she saw a small tear in her robe. The two returned to the front of the cave, waiting for them was a nervous Hunn and Vette who still holding up the cave wall. She walked to Hunn he looked at her alarmed. She sighed to herself. “You have until nightfall to get everyone out of here, by my estimation that is six hours, at that time I will report I found nothing, the cave complex was deserted.”

 

He looked at her eyes wide, “Really that’s... your superiors won’t like it but um thank you.”

 

She looked at the man, “Who brought in the small boy?”

 

He shook his head, “We found him hiding in the ruins, he was hurt and alone, why?”

 

She handed him a credit stick, “The small boy Ka’van, needs to be trained, he is gifted, if I had the ability I would take him with me,” she smiled at the man and he visibly shrank away. “But I don’t so he will be taken to that accursed Jedi planet,” she waved her hands dismissively. “He has been given the last name of Darksun, they will require such things there.”

 

“Darksun,” he questioned.

 

She just smiled and bowed, “It’s an old name served my family well for centuries.”

 

He blanched but nodded, “Of course I will see to it.”

 

“Oh and never tell him he will not see me again,” she leveled her gaze at him, “I plan to come collect him when the situation allows for it.” He nodded his head.

 

She walked over to the vertically reclining Twi’lek, “You ready?”

 

“Yeap,” she smiled, “lead on big not bad lady,” looking back at the Sith and shaking her head.

 

“Oh shut up, Vette,” she snarled.

 

“Lady Kit,” the little boy yelled, he ran towards her arms outstretched.

 

“Lady Kit I like that,” Vette snickered under her breath, Kit just arched an eyebrow and gave her a death glare.

“Yeah little guy,” she asked as the boy ran to her and Force leapt up and into her arms.

 

“You forgot to hug me good bye.”

 

“Oh, but this is not good bye, I will see you later.”

 

“You will!” He beamed.

 

“Of course,” she smiled hugging him back.

 

 

AN

 

 

I feel as though I should mention, in case people notice the discrepancy, Ka'van is younger in this version of the post. That is intentional, he was actually aged a few years for the other story that I am writing with Alaurin. It is not a big deal, but just incase people were wondering, in my headcannon he is actually the younger age.

Prompt for this one, What's in a name.

 

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Hope everyone is enjoying the story.

This one is new :)

 

Spoilers:

 

 

For Ord Mantell as well as the Tropper class and planet quest Republic Roulette.

 

CHAPTER 3

 

 

 

Standard Year 3645

ORD MANTELL

 

Scowling Aric shook his head, staring at the readout on the screen. Something was wrong. He knew it, he had been catching ghosts, echoes in the communication from the Fort. Duplicate lines of text, an inverted word, a random misspelling, that, when he went back to double check, had mysteriously vanished. It was way to sophisticated to be anything the locals had cooked up.

 

Scratching the back of his head he sighed. He had seen it within this requisition order for supplies, he had and now it was gone.

 

Growling Aric frowned at the screen, someone good was doing this. He honestly didn't think the seps had anyone so sophisticated working with them. Shaking his head he debated that logic. Someone had figured out how to piggy back off of their coms and completely clean up after.

 

It just led back to his suspicion that there was another group involved with the seps. He had grumbled before that he thought it had to be Imperial assistance. No one seemed to believe him, he had been told repeatably that he was slipping. Scratching his head one last time, Aric sighed and closed the order. He would eventually catch and copy the vanishing text, then he could at least start getting to the bottom of it. Perhaps it was just a programming error like Tavus had suggested.

 

Darkening the monitor he walked to the wall. His fingers hovered over the light switch when he heard voices. Hushed whispering voices in the corridor, a stifled giggle as they neared, armored footfalls growing closer. Pressing his body up against the wall he waited, listening, his ear straining to make out words.

 

There was not supposed to be anyone left in the building at this hour. Most had cleared out hours ago; he had just stayed behind, searching though old communications looking for some trace of the ghost.

 

Inhaling he concentrated, the scent of Human musk filled his sinuses. Musk and standard issued soap. No durasteel. A feminine voice drifted to him, “… have to admit the kid has guts. This won't be a problem for you will it?”

 

“No,” a male voice whispered. A low laugh filled the air, sending a chill down his spine. “It won’t be a problem at all.”

 

“Huh, guess that uptight pencil pusher really doesn't sleep.” The woman giggled. Aric pressed his back harder against the wall. “Wanna stop and pay him a visit?” The laughter that slithered out of her throat made him shiver.

 

“No way, that one is way to uptight. Only way you could get him to be any fun is if you drugged him. Leave him to his boring paperwork.”

 

“Are you sure, the uptight ones tend to be the most wild once you get them to... relax.” That slithering, giggling laugh returned. His fur flinched. “Admit it, you would like to see him lighten up, the entire Fort would.”

 

Gritting his teeth he sucked in a ragged breath, whoever those two were, he didn't want to confront them face to face. The tone of her voice suggested that it would be far from pleasant. He wondered who the duo could be, why they were here. He prayed to the ancestors that they lost interest in him and moved along.

 

A surprised squeal echoed through the hall. “Why would you want to waste your time with that uptight sick in the mud? He has a rifle shoved so far up his backside it has gotten lost. I am much more entertaining.” The words reached him on the back of a low growling laugh.

 

The footsteps continued, growing softer as the speakers moved away, down the deserted hallway. As the heavy-soled footfalls faded he slid along the wall; cautiously he peeked around the rooms open doorway.

 

He spotted the fatigue clad duo. The pale skinned Zabrak's arm was wrapped possessively around her waist, her head was resting on his side, her olive green skinned hand draped across his lower back. Their body language screamed intimately acquainted. He swallowed as they turned their heads looking at each other before the much taller male leaned down, kissing the woman.

 

The pit of his stomach churned. Lieutenant Virk and Sergeant Darksun; two people who should not be together. Virk was known to be corrupt, no one had been able to pin anything on him, his subordinates were to scared to come forward. Darksun was Durant's conniving protege; she had a laundry list of alleged crimes that followed in her wake, extortion high on the list, but so far unprovable. It was whispered she enjoyed the more questionable aspects of scientific research. He had actually thought she was involved with Durant. It was surprising to see her here with Virk.

 

Surprising and dangerous. He wondered briefly about the person they were talking about. He hoped whoever the person was, nothing bad happened to them. Sadly people got hurt way to often out on patrol, he had his own theory who was behind it. Until he had more solid proof, it as all just speculation. Speculations didn't stick.

 

He watched as they moved out of the building, exhaling a harsh breath. Slipping back into the room he leaned up against the wall.

 

He rubbed the back of his head. He needed to give them time to get away from the building. He didn't want them to find out he had been paying attention to their conversation, if he left to soon and they were still nearby, they might see him. It would be better to wait, give them enough time to move away from the building.

 

He definitely didn't want to run into them tonight. He still was pretty sure that the Sergeant was in on the illegal racing that went on in the landmine laden stretch of field that lay near Oradam village. The day she had been sent there her armour cam had malfunctioned. Just like when he had sent her to look for Agent Belis and she arrived to late to save him. He still thought she had done it intentionally.

 

People seemed to mean nothing to her; he shuddered. The destitute and desperate people who had lost so much during the violent fighting on Ord, were merely there for sport. The agent was inconvenient; so she intentionally delayed her rendezvous.

 

Shaking his head he tilted it backward slightly, inhaling. He no longer smelled them. He breathed deeper. Nothing. They had been gone long enough their sent trails had dissipated to the point of being negligible. Inhaling a deep breath he slipped around the wall, hitting the light switch as he moved into the darkened hall.

 

Quickly moving on the balls of his feet he walked the corridor. Pausing briefly at the closed door in front of him he pressed his ear to the door. He didn't hear voices. Gently he pushed, it slid quietly into the wall as he slipped past. With a whisper it closed behind him.

 

Stepping into the shadows, he tilted his head back inhaling deeply. He picked up on the myriad of faded crisscrossed sent trails that constantly dwelled within the Fort, he caught their scent it was fresher and was moving away towards the cantina. Swallowing Aric moved away from the office building, slipping into a deeply shadowed alley and headed to his apartment.

 

 

 

AN

 

 

No prompt for this one

 

 

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Evening :)

Spoilers: trooper act one while on Ord as well as, Aric's first companion quest

 

CHAPTER 4

 

 

 

Year 3645: Immediately following previous chapter

 

ORD MANTELL: AVILATAN'S REST CANTINA

 

Aric sighed, scowling at his rocks glass, swirling the amber liquid within. Damn the ancestors, he had been hung out to dry for the very thing he suspected. Such a crock of bantha poo doo. Reporting it to Tavus, he snorted. Looking that damn traitor in the eye and telling that lying Human that he thought the increase in the quality of the seps weapons, the ghosts in the communications was due to Imperial assistance. He shook his head, they were probably laughing at him right now.

 

Picking up the glass he knocked his head back, swallowing the contents.

 

A dull vibrating inched along his back; setting the glass down he pulled out his datapad. Frowning he clawed the screen to life. What else could possibly happen to him today? It was already a tram wreck.

 

His frown deepened, it was a notice letting him know of causalities in the field. One name caught his eye, Private Farn, his scowl deepened. Such a shame, good kid, a bit eager but a good kid. He took three blaster bolts to the back and one to the front. Shaking his head he motioned to the bartender. The azure skinned Twi'lek sauntered over.

 

“That will be your fourth this evening.” Ryn commented, her tattooed brow arched.

 

“Been a rough day.”

 

“Must have been, you reporting for duty in the morning?”

 

“Yeah,” he groused, “I am.”

 

“I heard the talk around the base,” Ryn whispered as she refilled the rocks glass. “It true? That squad you worked with, they defected?”

 

Aric nodded, he wasn't surprised she knew. She seemed to have a knack of hearing everything.

 

“What are you going to go? Or will that be handled by another branch?”

 

“He is not going to be doing anything unless I tell him too.” A gloating voice slithered over him.

 

His scowl deepened, damn it. She was the last person he wanted to see right now. “Sir.” he muttered, staring at the well-worn bar-top.

 

“Rather insubordinate way to address your Commanding Officer.”

 

The amusement in her voice, grated against his frazzled nerves. His fur flinched as he bit back an angry snarl. “Lieutenant Darksun, Sir,” the words like bitter acid in his mouth. Green-gold eyes stared through the bar-top. Of all the people to put in that position, he would never understand Garza's decision to promote her. He knew several well seasoned spec force soldiers who would be much better suited to the position. But no, they had picked her, the Miralian had no moral compass and was more slippery than a greased manka cat.

 

“Well, that is better, though your manners need improvement. You should look at people when you talk to them. I am sure you remember how to do that, don't you?”

 

Her smug condescending tone caused his claws to extend. Gritting his teeth, he retracted them. He slowly turned his head to look at her, the smile on her olive green face made his skin crawl.

 

“Now Sergeant,” her grin grew wider.

 

He clenched his jaw tighter.

 

“I have been thinking… I have decided how best to utilize your… skills. Since you didn't see the incident coming, there is no way I will be relying on any of your intel gathering abilities.”

 

He forced his face to remain still, he didn't like how this was going.

 

“Obviously your skills as a sniper leave something to be desired...”

 

Aric sucked in a sharp protesting breath. Her hand snapped up dismissively waving away his unspoken argument.

 

“Don't even bother, if you were any good they would not have been so eager to get rid of you and reassign you to this,” she looked around the Avilatan's Rest, “place. You really should be thanking me, they were talking of slapping you with a court martial and throwing your worthless hide into the brig.”

 

He stared at her, he wasn't worthless. He had served with distinction for the past seven years, was in the Academy for four, graduated at the top of his class. Every move within the Army had been a promotion. What was the matter with her? He had suspected there was an Imperial presence here. He had been ignored. General Vander had pulled him to the side after the dust had settled and informed him that he was being blamed for something he could not have predicted, that he was being transferred out of the unit and off the planet.

 

When he had learned where he was being transferred his stomach had dropped. He had tried to be positive about it, he would be able to track down the people who had sent his life-long career down the 'fresher.

 

The tone of her voice, and the look on her face extinguished any positive thoughts. The look on her face made his fur flinch. He felt like he was dissected, that he was nothing more than a thing. And he was going to have to leave the planet with her, listen to and follow her orders.

 

“What will be my assignment, Sir?” He could barely choke out the sentence. The way those violet eyes were looking at him; uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe it.

 

“I have decided that will be appointing you to the Boot-polishing Brigade. It seems the best use of your talents, for now. I might change my mind.”

 

“Really Sir, we have to work together and that is how you want to start things?” Aric growled, his claws extending.

 

“Oh I am just finishing things.” She stepped closer, “Remember, Sergeant...” Her grin grew flashing white teeth, “You have to listen to me, your precious career depends on it. Cross me and you will never advance, you will never get another promotion. I will never let you go, you are mine now. You will always be … under me. Remember that. Your career, your … life is in my hands.” She moved next to his barstool, her body uncomfortably close. Her hand reached out touching his arm. He watched as it slowly caressed his bicep and slithered down his arm; his fur flinched and rolled down his back as he unconsciously recoiled from her touch. The unwanted hand tightened.

 

“Serve me well and you might actually receive one of your precious promotions.” Her thumb rubbed the exposed fur on his arm. The skin under those green fingers flinched and her grin widened.

 

Aric swallowed, she couldn't possibly mean it. Holding someones rank over their head, it was... it wasn't permissible. There were regulations in place... That didn't matter, he stared at that lecherous look in her eye. She meant it. That hand slowly slid down his arm; his claws dug into the worn bar-top. He knew in the pit of his stomach if he flinched, if he moved it would be so much worse.

 

He continued to stare her in the eye, refusing to look away. The hand resumed its downward journey, slipping through his fur, sliding over his wrist, before disappearing off of his hand. She smiled before she turned away.

 

Claws retracted as he watched her walk through the crowded cantina. He violently exhaled. The dull thud of glass hitting the bar-top caused him to jump. He turned to look at the azure skinned Twi'lek. She set down an overflowing rocks glass.

 

“Your new X.O. huh?” Ryn whispered.

 

Aric nodded, looking back over his shoulder. The Miralian was gone.

 

“It only the two of you in that squad?”

 

Aric nodded, his fur flinching.

 

“Are you going to be okay?”

 

Aric shook his head, “I don't know, I thought I had bad assignments before. This one is shaping up to be the worst one to date.” He reached out grabbing the rocks glass. The amber liquid sloshed onto his fingers as he brought the glass to his lips. Closing his eyes he knocked his head back swallowing the whisky in one gulp.

 

Opening his eyes, he set the glass back down. He looked at Ryn, her concern filled brown eyes met his. Slowly her hand reached out, hovering over his. Aric nodded his consent; her azure skinned fingers gently squeezed his hand. “You are a good soldier, remember that. No matter what, remember you are good, and you are good at what you do.”

 

Her hand moved, leaving his. Aric watched her refill his rocks glass. She set the bottle beside him.

 

“It is on the house.” Ryn gave him a warm smile.

 

He opened his mouth to protest.

 

Her head shook in silent protest. “It is on the house. And there are times friendly fire is the easiest way to ease your pains.”

 

Aric stared at her, eyes wide, as her slight frame moved to the other end of the bar, turning to wait on a pair of Humans.

 

He dropped his eyes to the amber liquid within the glass in his hand. He couldn't do something like that, it couldn't possibly get that bad that he would consider doing something like that, could it?

 

 

 

AN

 

Ryn speaks huttese in the game, I decided she was bi lingual, :p

Avilatan's Rest Cantina

Whoops forgot to add the prompt, they were not added to the master document, this one was New paths.

 

Edited by Kitar
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I am trying very hard to update twice a week. Due to having to go out of town tomorrow, I decided to post it a day early.

 

CHAPTER 5

 

 

Year 3645 Couple months after Ka'van is turned over to the Order

 

TYTHON

 

Carefully he wiggled his feet under the covers, the itchy scratchy covers. And they were brown, he didn't really like brown. Glancing at the door he moved his legs closer to the edge of the mattress. Holding his breath he waited, nothing happened. Biting his lip he dropped his left leg off the side of the mattress. Looking he watched the unmoving door, when it remained closed he moved his right leg off the bed. Expectantly he stared at the door. Still nothing.

 

Smiling he placed his feet on the rather boring rug, toes scrunching the woven braid. Eyes looked to the door; he slid out of the bed, pooling onto the carpet. Lying flat on his belly he held his breath; waiting. Still nothing. His grin grew. Jumping to his feet he nearly ran across the room. Crouching down by the stone wall; he slipped his fingers into barely seen cracks. Sticking his tongue out he pulled; slowly he managed to free the brick from its resting place.

 

Grunting he set the stone on the floor. Reaching inside he pulled out his treasures; his pretty sparkly rocks, his little soldier and the saber. Sitting on the rug he crossed his legs as he rolled the hilt over in his hands. He had been told he could keep it, but he was not old enough to use it. He had realized the grown-ups didn't like it; they seemed scared of it. He didn't understand it was pretty neat; it even had a red blade. After the grown-ups had seen the blade the saber was quickly turned off and they talked in quiet voices. Then he was moved out of the room with all the other kids to a big room he got to keep all to himself. He had a nice big bed, it was kinda soft. Best part it was quiet. He had not heard a single boom since he was here. He could look out the big window and he saw birds and clouds it was pretty. But he did miss the big weapons; the purple bolts they shot upwards were pretty.

 

Turning the weapon over he looked at the sun on the hilt. His new name, he had tried to remember his old name but it was gone. That was okay he liked his new one. And he liked his new Mum. He hoped it was okay he was calling her Mum, he really wanted a Mum. She was different from his other Mum, the Mum who got hurt and never got better. He had wanted to find a way to make his Mummy better, when the man in the white coat came in and told him his Mummy was never going to wake up he got mad. He took his faithful Bantha and left to find someone to help her. Then he got lost. He sighed he didn't have anything that was his Mum's.

 

He frowned, scratching his head, then his smile returned. He had his Mum's hair and the Bantha she gave him as a present.

 

Rolling the hilt over he wondered when he was going to see his new Mum again. He knew he would, she had Promised. The grown-ups here told him that they were going to take care of him, but he knew she was going to come. She had Promised.

 

Gently he placed the ancient hilt on the woven run. Reaching out he picked up his soldier. Setting up against the wall he held his hand out, concentrating on the small shiny rocks when he felt something. It tickled the back of his neck. It was warm and soft. He focused on it, his tongue peeking between his parted lips. The sensation rolled across his shoulders.

 

Looking out the window he concentrated on the soft warm touch, it was like his old blankey. In the light he saw a faint red shimmer. Tightening his grip on his soldier, he moved to the open window. The thin red trail seemed to be coming from the woods. Biting his lip he looked to the closed door. He wasn’t supposed to leave the building at night. But he wanted to see where that red smoke stuff came from.

 

On tippy-toes he moved across the rug, grasping the edge of the open window. He carefully pulled himself up onto the ledge giving the closed door one last look. Then he swung his legs over the edge. Taking a deep breath he jumped, landing with a muffled huff. Holding his breath he listened. All he heard was the leaves and bugs chirping. No feet. No grown-ups.

 

Tightening his grip he moved as quickly as he could following the meandering red line. Down the neat path, through the tall grass, past a really neat bug. The warmth grew as he moved further away from his room. The smoke drifted down a tall hill. Tucking his soldier into his pocket he pulled up his pants and started up the hill.

 

The red smoke seemed to grow brighter as he managed to climb to the top of the hill, in the clearing there was a ship. Eyes wide he pushed his body up against a tree. It was big, not as big as the ship that brought him here, that was huge.

 

The smoke swirled around the ship. Patting his pocket he made sure his soldier was still safe, taking a deep breath he moved away from the tree walking into the clearing. Glancing over his shoulder he waited for someone to show up, one of the cranky grown-ups. No one followed him out of the trees.

 

Grinning he moved towards the ship. The smoke was still swirling about it, all red and pretty. The grass was crunchy under his feet. Wiggling his toes he looked at the ground. He didn't want to be noisy; noisy was bad. Carefully he jumped to a bare patch of dirt, it squished between his toes. Better, squishy was not noisy. Keeping to the soft mud he made his way to the ship.

 

He heard a loud snap, freezing he looked at the noise. What appeared was not one of the cranky grown-ups; they all wore boring brown. This person was wearing black. A wide smile spread across his face, he knew she would come, she had Promised.

 

She motioned him over, as she moved away from the ship. Looking one last time over his shoulder towards the slumbering buildings below. Squishing the mud between his toes he moved towards her. She was standing close to the ship, near a fallen tree. As he stepped closer he saw another person sitting there. She waved him closer as she sat on the tree trunk, “Come Ka'van.”

 

Grinning he ran to her side, throwing his arms around her. “You came, I knew you would.”

 

“Of course I came, have you been treated well?” she asked as she returned his hug.

 

Vigorously he shook his head, “Yeap, they are nice.”

 

Her arms disappeared, then she patted the tree trunk next to her, “Come sit, tell us all about it. I want to hear everything. I also want you to meet someone.” She turned on the tree gesturing to the person sitting behind her. Bright green eyes peered around her. “This is Kiernan, my Son.” Ka'van leaned over looking at the little boy, he had long blond hair and these neat green eyes ringed in red. “He is close to your age, just a little older, he is seven.”

 

“Hi,” Ka'van smiled holding his hand out. The boy stared at it before extending his left hand. Ka'van grabbed his fingers and shook them.

 

“Su'cuy,” Kiernan replied. his voice quiet.

 

Ka'van dropped his fingers looking at the other boy's face. “You have neat eyes and I like your hair. They want me to cut mine.”

 

“Do they?” She asked.

 

“Yes,” he frowned, “they do. They said it needs to be short, that I have to start wearing a braid. I think it’s dumb.”

 

“Well you haven't listened I see.” Her hand reached out ruffling his copper coloured locks.

 

“Nope,” he shook his head, “I ran and hid when I was supposed to go. They didn't like it, said I was troubling, they asked the Force for strength and patience.”

 

She laughed, her red lips breaking into a big pretty smile. “Do you like it here?”

 

Ka'van nodded, “I do its quiet here.”

 

“Do you like it enough to stay? Or do you want to come home with us?” Her hand rested on his shoulder.

 

“Home?” Ka'van looked at them, “Where is home?”

 

“Well,” her hand rubbed his shoulder, “home is a large sprawling Estate in the jungle outside the Capital City. We live on Dromund Kaas.”

 

“You came to take me home?” He stared up at her his blue eyes wide.

 

“I have,” she smiled down at him, “are you ready to go?”

 

He looked down at his lap, his hand going into his pocket grabbing his soldier. “Would you be mad at me if I said no?” he whispered.

 

“No,” her hand squeezed his shoulder, “I would not be mad. Why do you not want to go?”

 

“Well,” he squeezed his soldier tighter. “It's quiet here, so quiet and its pretty. And, they showed me how to fix boo boos. I want to know more, if I had known how to fix them I might have been able to help my Mum,” his voice dropped to a whisper. “I wasn't able to help her.”

 

“Oh my dear boy,” she slipped her arm around him pulling him closer, as she kissed the crown of his head.

 

He looked up at her sniffing, “Can you stay?”

 

“No youngling, I don't think that is possible.”

 

“Oh,” Ka'van sniffled. “I had hoped,” he sighed. “You are more interesting than the other grown-ups here. I haven’t told them about you, that you are my Mum. I think they are afraid of me.”

 

“Why do you think that?”

 

“They found your saber, the one you gave me. I told them it was my Mum's and when they looked at it and saw the pretty red blade they got upset. I got my own room though.”

 

“You haven't mentioned me? At all?” she asked.

 

“No,” he shook his head, “they think you are dead. I don't want to tell them about you, you’re my secret. That my Mum is alive. Is it alright that I call you Mum?”

 

“Yes,” she leaned over hugging him. “It is definitely alright.”

 

He leaned into her she was warm. “They said my saber was Sith, I could tell they were afraid. Why were they afraid, you are nice.”

 

“Well,” she wrapped her other arm around him, “Jedi don't like Sith, when you are older I will tell you why. That is why I came to bring you home. You should be in a place where you are safe. It is finally safe to bring you home to the Estate.”

 

“This place is not safe?” Ka'van asked. “It's quiet, no explosions.”

 

“It is not the safest place for a young Sith to be no. I am concerned about what they might teach you, this was supposed to be a temporary situation.”

 

“I don't like their school,” he sighed. “They don't like jokes, they never smile. They told me there is no emotion there is peace. But that is not right, I am sad when I think of my Mum, I am very happy to see you. I was very scared when the bombs were exploding, very scared. There is emotion.”

 

“Your right Ka'van. Peace is a lie, there is passion. That is what drives us. Remember that.” She hugged him tighter. “I think I will be able to sneak away to come visit you. Would you like me to teach you, until you are ready to come home. After you have learned how to heal and want to leave this place.”

 

He looked up smiling, “Yes, yes I do.”

 

“Good, I can do that. I will try to meet you as often as I can. I want you to remember what I tell you and hold it close. Don't tell anyone what we talk about can you do that?”

 

He nodded. “Of course, I am good at hiding.”

 

“Yes you are,” she tightened her hug and bent over kissing the top of his head. “What are you hiding?”

 

Ka'van pulled the soldier out of his pocket. “My soldier.”

 

“Oh I remember him, I am surprised they let you keep him.”

 

“They don't know I have him, I keep him in the Bantha.”

 

“What soldier?” Kiernan asked.

 

“This one,” Ka'van proudly held up the small figure.

 

Kiernan reached out grabbing the soldier, “He has a rifle.”

 

“Yeap,” Ka'van nodded, “it was longer but it broke.”

 

“Buir,” Kiernan looked up at her, “can we play? My soldiers are in the ship.”

 

“Yes, but be quiet I don't want to draw attention to ourselves.”

 

“Yes Buir,” Kiernan handed the small man back to Ka'van, “This way,” he slipped off the tree and moved towards the ship.

 

Ka'van scooted off the fallen tree and followed him. He stopped at the lowered ramp thing. Kiernan was waiting for him. Ka'van glanced back at her, “Is she going to play too?”

 

“Nayc,” Kiernan shook his head, “Buir is going to guard us.”

 

Ka'van watched as she stood, her back to the ship, saber in hand, staring at the distant building. “Kiernan what does Buir mean?”

 

“Buir?” Kiernan shook his head, he pointed to her black form, “it means her, parent.”

 

“Does it mean Mum?”

 

“Elek.” Kiernen nodded.

 

“Elek?” Ka'van looked at him confused.

 

Kiernan cracked a small smile, “Elek, means yes, Buir is parent. It is Mando'a.”

 

“Oh,” Ka'van looked at the older boy, studying him. “You are a Mando, I have heard of Mandos.”

 

Kiernan nodded; proudly he stood up straighter.

 

“Did she find you too?”

 

“Nayc, I am her's, she is my Buir the only one I have left.”

 

“Where is your dad?”

 

Kiernan shook his head frowning, “Gone. Died years ago.”

 

“I'm sorry, my Daddy is gone too. So,” Ka'van shuffled his feet, “it is just the two of you?”

 

“Nayc, you now ner Vod. There are three of us now.”

 

“Ner Vod?”

 

“My Brother,” Kiernan smiled.

 

“Brother,” Ka'van whispered, “I never had a Brother before.” Smiling he looked at their Mum's, their Buir's back. “Kiernan, why does she need to guard us?”

 

Kiernan walked down the ramp to stand next to him, “Can't trust Jedi.”

 

Ka'van studied the large building in the distance. “They are all Jedi, aren’t they, the cranky grown-ups.”

 

“Yes and the kids too. All but you. You are like us. Buir will teach you like she teaches me. We are Darjetii, Sith.” Kiernan turned. “Come, I have more soldiers and a walker.”

 

“Really!” Ka'van breathed, “Can I play with them?”

 

“Elek,” Kiernan nodded.

 

Ka'van grinned looking one last time at his new Buir watching the valley before he turned and followed Kiernan into the ship.

 

 

 

AN

 

 

Mando'a

Su'cuy – hi! Nayc – no Buir – parent

Elek- yes Ner Vod – My brother Darjetii – Sith

Prompt - family

 

 

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Evening everyone.

Now that I know my parent's are out of harms way in the utterly landlocked, no ocean in sight, state of Colorado I will do my best to not focus so much on the hurricane. Houses can be fixed/rebuilt, it's a bit harder to rebuild the people.

 

Now to get back with the posting of the story.

 

I will have to post a trigger warning for this one. Just an FYI

Trigger Warning: for unwanted/non-consensual sexual contact, possible torture.

Spoilers:

For the quest: The Senators stolen goods & Trooper quest Destroying the War Droids

 

 

CHAPTER 6

 

 

 

Year 3645: month after previous prompt.

 

CORUSCANT ON-BOARD THE THUNDERCLAP

 

Aric rolled his shoulders as he padded down the hall on bare feet towards the 'fresher. He just ached, the last time he had handled an assault cannon this much had been in the Academy years ago. He had tried to carry his blaster rifle the first time they went into the field together, but she had refused. Insisted he had to carry that blasted heavy cannon. Sighing he shook his head as he stretched his right arm over his head, grunting as the sore muscles protested.

 

This shower was going to feel so good. He could actually relax and take his time; she was off the ship in another meeting with her Senator friend. Aric's lips downturned in a scowl. He liked that crooked Senator as much as he liked his new Commanding Officer. Shaking his head he dropped his arm, slowly easing his undershirt off.

 

He had made the mistake of speaking up when his illustrious X.O. had decided to not turn these blasted microchips over to Captain Denal-zon instead she had waited until the man had gone off duty and taken them back to Senator Barc who had ordered their creation. The whole scenario upset him, a Senator ordering microchips for slave collars. A Republic Senator in favor of slavery, he shook his head in disgust.

 

He never heard the Senator's reaction to this disgusting turn of events. For speaking his mind he had been dismissed abruptly and ordered to clean the entire common area with a toothbrush. While he had been stuck on his hands and knees cleaning, she had completely demolished the weapons locker. It had taken him until the early morning to get it put back together.

 

Honestly he was surprised he had not been reprimanded again. A couple hours ago he had insisted that following the General's order was wrong, that killing the civilians was not necessary or founded. There was no proof the mad man Krel had actually done a thing to those people besides kidnapping them off the street. Cyborg sleeper agents, Aric shook his head, the man was delusional. None of those people had a mark on them and his blasted X.O. was willing to just kill them.

 

Just when he thought it was going to be a decent day, she always had to demolish it. He had been feeling good, almost upbeat when they had managed to destroy the war droids the traitors had purchased. They even took down their creator, forcing the traitors to look elsewhere for more droids. Then she had to order him to kill those unarmed civilians. He crossed over the threshold into the 'fresher. This was going to be a long assignment, he was not going to just mindlessly kill people.

 

Claws sc.rapping against the wall he turned on the water, adjusting it until warm steam billowed out of the 'fresher stall. Quickly stepping out of his sleep pants he set them, and his towel, onto the awaiting bench.

 

Stepping under the 'fresher head he ducked his head, letting the warm water hit his shoulders and run down his back. Sighing he curled his head towards his chest; placing his arms against the stall wall. Rolling his back he moved sore muscles under the warm stream, relaxing as it soaked his fur. Reaching his clawed fingertips scraped against his shampoo bottle. Grabbing it he straightened, the water hitting his chest as he squeezed a generous amount into his palm. Working it into a thick lather he proceeded to clean the grime and grunge off of his fur.

 

Ducking under the steaming water, he rolled his shoulders, rinsing off the bubbling soap. Aric wanted to stay in longer, he did, but he also wanted to be in his bunk within the crew's barracks by the time she returned to the ship. He just didn't want to see her again until morning.

 

Begrudgingly he turned off the water, he needed to get back to his bed. Quickly running the edge of his hands over his body he sloughed the excess water. Stepping out of the 'fresher stall he grabbed his towel, wrapping the rough grey material around his waist. Grabbing his cast off pants he headed out of the 'fresher.

 

Quickly he walked through the quiet ship, rolling his still aching shoulder. There were times he thought he was getting to old for this. Ducking into the Medical Bay he went to grab a couple of painkiller stims when she materialized before him. Taking an unconscious step backward, he tightened his grip on his towel.

 

She had shed her armour, wearing only standard issued grey fatigues, and she was blocking the now closed door. Aric backed closer to the wall, he didn't like the smug amused expression on her face. He stared at her waiting for her to speak. When she didn't, he backed up against the wall. Something was wrong.

 

Gradually a smile spread across her olive-green tattooed cheeks. He swallowed a growl something was very wrong.

 

“So...” her teeth flashed, and Aric's fur flinched.

 

“I have been thinking.” She stepped closer to him.

 

Aric stiffened as she closed the distance, standing in front of him. Her violet eyes slowly moved over his bare chest. He swallowed another growl; standing nearly at attention. He didn't dare relinquish his grip on his towel.

 

“Since you have such a horrible time learning and you simply refuse to listen, I have found another niche for you to… fill... on this crew.”

 

Aric glowered at her, silent, as she stepped even closer. She had another thing coming if she thought he was going to simply roll over and blindly follow orders that were immoral.

 

“Oh?” her voice purred, slithering through the air, causing his fur to roll. “Do you not want to hear it? I think you might like it. You do seem to be perfectly suited to it.”

 

He stared at her unmoving, as his green-gold eyes narrowed. She was definitely up to something.

 

“Well I am going to tell you. You, my Captain of my Boot-polishing Brigade, you get to be my new test subject.” Her hand moved so fast striking him in the arm.

 

Aric grunted as the biting sting of a needle erupted in his bicep. His eyes jumped to her hand; she was pulling away a spent injector. His vision swam as his legs suddenly grew weak, in his next breath he was falling. He tried to put his arms out to stop himself; they refused to move. His head hit the wall, slamming his teeth together, as he crumpled to the floor.

 

“I know you will enjoy it. I decided you must, since you simply refuse to listen, even the dumbest Akk dog can listen. I realized I need to make the decisions for you. Since apparently you lack the ability. And Garza did say I should put your talents to the best use, and apparently you don't have any redeeming talents to speak of, you get to take the place of the new dog I requested.”

 

“It really will save on space and time. I won't have to worry about declaring you or have all the proper permits and housing requirements to get through customs.”

 

Aric felt his feet lifted up off the floor and a low grunt as his body was pulled away from the wall. His head rolled to the side. He tried to move it back, but he wasn't able. He couldn't move anything, he could not even turn his head to look at her. Cold panic began to course through his stomach. What did she inject him with? What had that insane woman done to him?

 

He felt his body slowly slide along the cool durasteel floor. His arms were moved over his head, then his legs were straightened. A large grunt echoed in the closed room as the towel was yanked out from under him; the newly exposed fur cold against the floor. He tried to move his arms to cover himself, but they refused to respond, they didn't even feel asleep, but they would not respond. He could feel everywhere she was touching him but he could not move.

 

Her hands touched his feet, a sharp gasp filled the air as her hand hit his toe. The sweet coppery scent of blood hit his sinuses. “Kark,” she muttered, “need to watch those, and these.”

 

A heavy weight covered his wrists as loud clicking filled his ears. His vision continued to swim, everything was blurry. His hips were moved, shifted, as she grunted again. “You are about as heavy as a karking Akk dog too, need to put your worthless hide on a diet.”

 

He felt fingers run through his bare chest fur. “I decided that you would be prefect for this position after todays little stunt and your sulking over turning the microchips. Did you know that the good Senator told me about a very under serviced section of the slave trade?”

 

The fingers slid along his shoulders, “I bet you didn't, no you were to busy sulking. Were you aware that Cathar make horrible slaves?”

 

They slowly traced down his chest, down his sides coming to rest on his hips. His stomach rolled, he felt acid in his throat, his fur recoiled at her touch. “Ornery and violent, just refusing to listen. Wait I bet you know, you are the same fracking way. Well... anyway, I digress.” He felt those fingers slide through his fur again, slowly rolling from his stomach up to his shoulders and back down to his waist.

 

“There is a very high demand for some sort of drug or sedative to make those damn slaves more agreeable. Having to kill such an expensive investment is just bad business. Cathar slaves are still quite rare, another fact I am sure you know.”

 

Aric tried to growl, to move away from her but his limbs stubbornly refused to cooperate. He wasn't even able to twitch his little finger no matter how hard he tried.

 

“Well,” he felt his body move, as his legs were adjusted slightly. “I have decided to find a solution to that problem. I just knew you were the best one to help with it, as well. It is just a little problem. I already have a great lead on a possible concoction. There is a sedative, that will render the slave completely unable to move. The one that you are enjoying the affects of now.”

 

“The only problem with it is with its current dosage the slave can't move at all. Which is most inconvenient when you want a usable slave. So I will be working backwards from the starter dose to simply establish a base, a basic guideline if you will. Then I will systematically dial back the dose to find the proper amount to keep that annoying aggression under control.”

 

Aric felt a weight settle across the tops of his thighs. Again he tried to move his body, his arms, his legs, his head, anything. Anything to get away from her. He was not some worthless slave, she really was insane. But he couldn't, he could feel the pressure of a heavy weight on his legs, he felt her hands running through his fur but he could not even blink his blurry eyes.

 

“Do you want to know the best part about all of this? The very best part? The part that makes it so much more entertaining? Well I know you do, so I am going to tell you.” Those fingers slipped down to his thighs before disappearing. “The best part is, it was agreed that it would be much more lucrative if there was also a libido enhancer within the sedative. Think of how convenient that would be, a nice drug to take the orneryness out of them and another to make them want to be with you. Can you imagine now much slave owners will pay? How much the owners of pleasure houses will pay? Oh the credits would be staggering.”

 

He tried to move, he knew what was coming. She couldn't do this, he was not going to let her. He tried to flex his claws, to move his feet. He needed to get away from her. The weight across his hips shifted, it momentarily grew lighter. He tried to roll away, tried to back up, but nothing responded, nothing. He attempted to open his mouth, but couldn't. A huge cold knot formed in his stomach. He couldn't get away. He was stuck. Nothing worked, how could he get away?

 

The weight disappeared; another sharp bite stung his arm. “This,” she whispered, the soft word slithered over him, chilling his hide, “is actually the best part. I don't have to actually locate any slaves to test the concoction on. I can simply use you.”

 

A soft rustle of cloth filled the air as it brushed against the floor, he could feel it on his foot. The unwanted weight returned, but higher this time directly on his hips. Fingers began touching, him caressing him.

 

He screamed at his body to move, willed his feet to come up off the floor. He was getting old but he was still flexible enough to bring his feet up to claw her skin. His hands ignored his command to rise up off the floor and push her away. Her low laugh filled the air as she shifted on his waist. Then he felt her, felt the warmth of her as she lowered her body onto him.

 

Furious he tried to move, slowly the realization crept in he wasn't going to be able to. Whatever had been in that stim completely prevented him from doing so. He could feel everything she was doing but he was unable to actually stop her.

 

Her movement stilled, her weight shifted. She didn't get off of him like he silently prayed. A black blurry barrel came into view.

 

“Since this is the first of many sessions, I wanted to make you aware I had this.” The barrel left his limited field of vision and a heavy weight appeared on his bare chest. “Try anything stupid, which I know it will be so hard for you not too and I will say I shot you in self defense, that you were trying to force yourself on me.”

 

“Oh,” he felt warm air blow against his ear, as she suddenly leaned over him, “If you, for some reason, think people are actually going to care what happens to you, and you are unhappy with your new assignment within this crew and want to tell someone about it. Your worthless hide will discover just how uncomfortable your life can be. I possess one of those new slave collars. A small gift from the Senator. It is much smoother, smaller and thinner. Virtually undetectable under ones underarmour and durasteel plating.”

 

The weight returned to his hips as her legs settled against his sides.

 

He tried to block the sensation out, to push it far away from him. He knew what she was doing, what his own body was allowing her to do and there was nothing he could do about it. He let his mind wander, desperately wishing he was somewhere, anywhere else. He let everything become blurry, his mind blank as willed himself to detach from what was going on.

 

Eventually her movements stilled and his body didn't respond to her touches. Somewhere far away she was speaking, he couldn't make it out, he didn't want to. The weight, the unwanted weight across his hips disappeared. A dull click reached him and then he was alone. He felt alone.

 

He sucked in a harsh ragged breath as his body was filled with the agonizing sensation of a sleeping limb waking up. It was as if he was lying on a bed of needles. Blinking he tried to move his head. The motion made the room spin. Closing his eyes he slowly moved his arms, lowering the belligerent pain filled limbs to his sides.

 

Gritting his teeth, he forced his body to roll. Stabbing needles ran through his side as he managed to get onto his stomach. Clenching his swimming eyes shut, he pulled his hands and knees under his body. Slowly he began to crawl towards the wall, he thought it was the wall. Opening his eyes made the room spin. Claws scraped against the durasteel as he crept across the floor. His fingertips grazed something metallic and vertical.

 

Clawed fingertips slowly crept up the surface, it felt like a medial cabinet, cracking open his eye he dared to take a quick look. He was greeted with the offwhite surface of a drawer. Looking upward he realized he was near the cabinets by the medbay's door. He sunk his fingers into the wall and slid his sluggish feet under his body.

 

Leaning against the cabinet, he blinked blurry eyes, trying to see if he really was alone. He didn't see anyone else. She was gone. He needed to get out of here before she returned. He could lock the barracks. He could, then he picked up on the sickly sweet scent of her perfume, it seemed to cling to his fur, covering him.

 

His fur flinched, he could still smell her, still feel her touching him. He wanted to get clean, he felt so damn dirty. He looked down the hall towards the 'fresher, he wanted another shower. He shook his head, he couldn't, if he got another shower he would be a sitting mynoc. She still had more of that stuff, his fur rolled as he swallowed a growl, he didn't want to go through that again. Ever.

 

No. He needed to get to the barracks and lock the door. He could find someway to clean up in there. At least there he had a door and his blaster. Gripping the wall he shuffled his half asleep legs and feet towards the door. It was maddening, he wanted to run but he could barely pick up one foot, much less balance on it.

 

As he neared the doorway he paused to listen, ears straining. Nothing, he didn't hear a single sound. He didn't hear her. Biting his lower lip he pushed his way out into the hallway, praying the absence of noise meant she was sleeping and not laying in wait for him again.

 

Slowly he limped his way to the open door of the crew's barracks. Every time a claw scraped along the durasteel floor he cringed and stopped, waiting for her to show up again. She never did, he managed to make it into the barracks. Leaning against the wall he clawed the numlock, sliding the door closed and locking it.

 

Closing his eyes he leaned against the door. What was he going to do? She had said if he reported it, she was going to make his life worse, that she would slap a slave collar on him. He did not even question her word, after what she had just did, he knew she would not even hesitate to humiliate him like that. What was he going to do? The entire time he had been assigned to her she had treated him like he was worse than worthless. And now, she had just… she had... Warmth built up behind his closed eyes.

 

Growling he wiped his eyes, he couldn't not here, not now. Blinking he opened them, staring at the floor. Swallowing hard he moved away from the door. She had commented that it was the first of many sessions. Like hell it was, he wasn't going to roll over and let her do that again. She wasn't, he was going to report her. Things like that could not be allowed to happen.

 

He caught a strong whiff of her lingering scent and growled, bringing his arm up to his mouth, he licked. His rough tongue slid over his wrists removing her lingering scent; he tasted durasteel and acid. She must have had shockcuffs on his wrists. Growling he rotated his wrist determined to remove every last bit of her scent.

 

Then her voice drifted back to him laughing and condescending, 'a worthless Akk dog.' He stopped licking mid movement; his tongue touching his wrist.

 

He wasn't some damn useless animal, he pulled his arm away from his wrist. He wasn't, if she caught him actually licking his body clean though, he would never live it down. Biting his lip he looked around the room there was his kit laying next to his bunk. On rubbery feet he walked across the room. Gripping the overhead bunk, he grabbed his kit with one hand and opened it. Digging through, he felt what he was looking for, the self contained, single use, disinfectant towels. They were supposed to be used to clean minor wounds and injuries in the field. They would work to clean up his crawling hide and he much preferred their scent over her oily stench any day.

 

Biting the edge of the green rectangle he ripped it open. The scent of citrus assaulted his nose. He had never been happier to smell it before in his life. Quickly he pulled the moist cloth out and began to vigorously rub his body clean, scrubbing his arms, his wrists, his thighs and hips, taking the utmost care to carefully clean his crotch. Finally his fur was drenched, it was not the most pleasant smell but it completely blocked all traces that lingered of her.

 

Bending over he yanked open his foot locker. He pulled out new clothes; boxers and sleep pants. He reached for his under armour but his hand paused. He didn't want to run the risk of somehow getting her scent trapped within the clothing. He never wanted to smell her again, the last thing he wanted to do was trap it within his under armor. Instead his hand reached for the small blaster resting near the top of his foot locker. He grabbed it and an extra plasma clip.

 

Tossing his clothing onto the unused bunk above him, he placed the blaster and clip under the slightly dusty pillow. Claws gouged the frame as he hauled his sluggish body upward.

 

He shook his head, things were slowly starting to wake up. The thought of having to go out in the morning, to report for duty, to actually look at her, terrified him. What if he still wasn't better, what if she used it on him again and just left him? Alone and utterly defenseless on this ship, left in that horrible immovable state until she returned, an involuntary shudder coursed over his fur.

 

He rolled into the bunk. Grabbing his boxers he slowly got dressed, pulling them on one leg at a time before he grabbed his sleep pants. His legs seemed to be responding faster as he pulled on the dark grey material; as he scooted his back against the wall and out of sight from the locked door, he prayed the damn side effects would be gone by morning.

 

He couldn't make out the numbers on the chrono; he didn't know when morning was. Not that he was going to be able to get any sleep. The night kept replaying itself through his head, he couldn't stop it. Pressing his body further against the wall, his hand slipped under the pillow grasping the blaster.

 

He couldn't let her do it again, he needed to report it. She couldn't be telling the truth that no one cared what happened to him. Someone cared, he cared. He would, he would report everything, every single questionable action, every infraction, he would keep track of it. She would be watching him, he would have to careful and submit the report and notify the general when she nowhere around.

 

He shifted on the mattress, the stinging needle sensation was nearly gone. Aric moved his head on the pillow, he stared at the steady glowing numbers on the chrono, watching as the numbers slowly stopped wavering. It was oh two hundred, he had to be up and ready for duty at oh six hundred. He watched the red number change, relentlessly marching forward. Four hours to get it together, four hours to appear he was normal, that everything was alright.

 

He had to work with her until he was able to report her. How was he going to work with her, he didn't even want to look at her, much less take any orders from her. He shuddered, clawed fingers tightened their grip on the blaster. He could do this, he had to.

 

 

 

 

AN

 

I forgot the prompt, not that I think anyone is keeping track but it was villains and worst day ever.

 

Edited by Kitar
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So... If I have any readers left after the last installment... here is the next one.

 

CHAPTER 7

 

 

 

Year 3645 Timeline: immediately following previous prompt

 

CORUSCANT, ON-BOARD THE THUNDERCLAP

 

Aric sighed, hands fidgeting as he buckled on his chestplate. Cursing when his claws scrapped and he scratched the paint near the buckle. She was going to chastise it for him. She was going to. He gripped it tighter, forcing it into position. With a satisfying click it slid into place.

 

Hands shaking with a perpetual tremor he could not quell, he reached for his sidearm. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his shattered nerves. He had to report to duty in less than five minutes. He needed to be early, he had to be or she would threaten him. Even if he walked into the common area right at the top of the hour she would scowl and roll her eyes.

 

He could not handle that this morning, he couldn't. He didn't want to see her, not after last night, four hours had not been enough time. It wasn't enough time. He doubted there would ever be enough time.

 

Opening green-gold eyes he violently exhaled. Licking arid lips he swallowed, staring at the closed door. Patting the spare ammo clips strapped to his belt he headed towards the door. He had to do this, he could not hide behind this door.

 

Pausing in front of the door he took another deep breath, hoping and failing to calm his nerves. Reaching out he punched the code into the numlock, unlocking it. He watched the door slide into the wall and inhaled sharply. Standing on the other side of the now open door was his Commanding Officer.

 

She stood there arms crossed, wearing her uniform, not a bit of durasteel in sight. His stomach coiled as a wave of fear coursed through him. She was holding her side arm, the black barrel casually resting in the crook of her arm. “Oh look at this, all bright eyed and bushy tailed. Walking out to report a whole,” she glanced at the chrono in the common area, “five minutes early. I am impressed. I actually doubted your ability to tell time.”

 

She shifted her stance, her hips sliding to the side as she cocked her leg. She moved the blaster, casually resting the hand grasping it on her canted hip.

 

Biting the inside of his cheek he watched the blaster as it moved. What was she going to do to him now?

 

“I thought I was going to have to pull your worthless hide out of your bunk this morning. At your age I thought you needed more sleep. Such a pleasant surprise that you don't. One less thing I have to worry about when I work on reaching the desirable dosage.” She pulled the gun away from her hip a smile dancing along her painted lips.

 

“Speaking of your recent promotion and our first little research session last night. I had the brief and silly thought that you might actually try to communicate your displeasure with your new standing on this ship.”

 

Her olive-green hand disappeared behind her back. She slowly moved it, agonizingly slow. His stomach dropped, knotting, as he got a clear view of the item in her hand. It was slender and black, looked to be barely thicker than his thumb and was circular. It was a slave collar, it had to be. He remembered with stunning clarity the night before, it kept running through his mind. Repeatably. Aric had not forgotten her comment that she had a new slave collar that was thin and discrete, one that could be hidden under armor.

 

His body started to shake. Gritting his jaw he stared at her unblinking. He didn't know how to stop her. He was exhausted mentally and physically, he had not slept. How could he? He could attack her, but it could easily be twisted into an assault and not self-defense, it would come down to his word against hers. She was newly promoted, the chosen new leader, hand picked by the General. He was under suspicion, newly demoted. Aric doubted anyone would believe him. An unfounded accusation based on jealousy and anger.

 

Her blaster was already drawn. She could shoot him before he would be able to reach her. His fingers twitched, she was going to do it again. She was. He had sworn it was never going to happen again and it was a lie. How was he going to stop her?

 

He had to report her to the General. That was the only way. To do that he needed to file the reports, he needed to be able to prove what happened. What his insane Commanding Officer intended to continue to do to him.

 

“Nothing to say?” She stepped closer. “Does that mean my imagination was getting the best of me, or does that mean I caught you. I do bet it is the latter, so where have you hidden it away?”

 

She slowly advanced on him, he could not tear his eyes away from the black object in her hand. “I would bet credits it is in here. Let's have a looksie shall we.” She stopped in front of him, her blaster bouncing off her hip as she studied him. “Kneel.”

 

“What?” he whispered, staring at her. The blaster stopped bouncing and her arm snapped up. Violet eyes narrowed as her left hand moved to partially grasp the grip, the collar hanging from her two bottom fingers.

 

“Kneel,” she bit. Her finger squeezed shooting a green bolt into the wall behind him.

 

Eyes wide he turned to look at the smoking scorch mark, the metal a furious burning orange. Shaking he turned back towards her, she stood there blaster raised, pointed squarely at his chest. “Perhaps I am completely overestimating your intelligence. I thought you were capable of following simple orders. Kneel,” she growled.

 

Shaking he stared. She couldn't be serious, what is she going to do? Shoot him? Her finger started to coil, slowly squeezing the trigger. Her head cocked to the side as her eyes bored into him, burning. She was insane, he wasn't just going to kneel. She had another thing coming…

 

Her finger finished its contraction, the blasterbolt hit him dead center. His teeth clenched as his knees buckled, sending him to the floor. He crashed against the durasteel, hands splayed before him to break his fall.

 

Grunting Aric clenched his teeth as his body convulsed. That damn schutta! She shot him. Suddenly his arm was wrenched out from under him. It was twisted up over his head as he struggled to keep from falling forward. Hand twisted, it was held over his head as his other hand was wrenched upward. A heavy weight descended on both wrists as quiet click filled his ear.

 

Growling he moved his head, straining to look up at her. His head was violently shoved downward. “Stay still,” she hissed. “Stay still or I will shoot you again.” Aric felt a coldness slip around his neck. Freezing he stared at the durasteel before him. Holding his breath he waited. He waited for the pressure to build on the back of his neck but it never did.

 

Footsteps echoed off the durasteel as she moved away. He heard the sound of material being pulled and the soft thump of it falling to the floor. It was followed by the sounds of heavy thumps and bumps. Body shaking he waited, the jarring sounds of destruction sounding behind him.

 

Eventually the muttered curses faded and falling objects stopped hitting the durasteel floor. Ears straining he listened to her footfalls grow closer. She sounded so pissed, he could hear the barely contained anger in her voice. “Perhaps you do learn faster than I thought.” The cold weight around his neck suddenly disappeared. “Clean this damn mess up, you worthless waste of space.” He looked up, watching her stalk out of the room, the black collar back in her hand again.

 

He lowered his still bound hands. He listened as her footfalls echoed down the hall. They grew fainter as the distance grew, straining he heard the hollow sound of footfalls descending down the ship's ramp.

 

Swallowing he stood on shaky legs and looked behind him, the entire room was demolished, she had tossed everything. All the mattresses were on the floor, sheets and blankets strewn everywhere. It was going to take him hours to get it all picked up. Looking momentarily back over his shoulder he looked down at his wrists. The shock cuffs were not even on tightly. Slipping his thumb up against the palm of his hand, he managed to shrink his hand down to his wrist's circumference and slipped his hand out. Shaking his head, he repeated the action with his left hand.

 

Throwing the cuffs against the floor he snarled in frustration. She was karking crazy, crazy and not nearly as smart as she thought she was. He reached down to his belt pulling free the middle plasma clip. Flipping the clip over he extended a claw, slipping his extended index claw into the bottom seam he twisted his finger and the metal end popped off into his palm. Tilting the clip upright a dataspike slid into his palm. She was not nearly smart enough.

 

Stepping carefully through the demolished barracks, he retreated to a corner of the room, neatly hidden from the doorway. Running his hand along the durasteel panel he slipped his claws into a small groove. Pulling downward the panel popped out of the wall. Propping the panel against his body he slipped his hand into the dark recess. His fingers slid against the slim datapad resting inside. Quickly he retrieved the datapad, thumbing it on. As the screen flickered to life he plugged in the dataspike.

 

Instantly text started scrolling across the screen. Smiling he glanced at the open doorway. A quiet chirp emanated from the datapad, a gentle prompting for the password to be entered.

 

She was not nearly smart enough, that blast had not shorted out the electronics on his body. Since she never bothered to actually talk to him, she had no idea the Deadeyes carried dataspikes in their ammo belts; all these years later he still carried on that habit. They were easy to remove and carry, any last wishes or words were easily recorded and kept within the dataspike.

 

Deactivating the datapad he removed it out of its port. Quietly he replaced the datapad and slipped durasteel wall covering into place. With a quick shove of his hand the panel was secure. Stepping over a large pile of sheets, he sighed. This was going to take him at least an hour to straighten up. But, he canted his head studying the mess, she wasn't going to find his dataspike. He slid the small grey spike back into the false bottom on the plasma clip, closing it with a very satisfying click. She wasn't going to find it and he was going to be able to add today's little stunt to the growing number of infractions and reports stored on the little spike.

 

He was going to have to bide his time and wait, find a moment when she was not watching him so closely. He was going to have to wait but he was going to be able to report her actions. It might not even be to Garza but he was going to find a way to notify his superiors and get out from under her insane thumb.

 

 

 

AN

Prompt was Morning After

 

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This one is rather short, I debated about putting up two chapters in this posting but I decided against it.

 

Spoiler: I believe the quest is called Boom, on Coruscant

 

CHAPTER 8

 

 

 

 

Year 3645 a month later

 

CORUSCANT

 

“I don't think he will be able to do it.”

 

Her voice grated on his nerves as he knelt beside the rigged supply crate. Taking a deep breath Aric pushed her presence away to the back of his mind. Her opinion did not matter, he reminded himself, it never matters. Steady hands carefully moved brightly coloured wires, gently teasing them apart to get a better understanding of the damn bomb’s creation.

 

“I bet he will cut the wrong one. Splatter his worthless furry hide all over the duracrete.”

 

The smugness in her tone caused his teeth to grind. Momentarily closing his eyes he took a deep breath through his nose. She didn't matter, nothing she said mattered. Opening green-gold eyes Aric continued to sort through the wires, painfully aware of how much pressure he applied with his claws. As far as he could tell it was a simple devise, made to look confusing with an extraordinary amount of wires. Simple could still get him killed though.

 

“How much ya wanna wager on that?” The gravely voice behind him answered.

 

Aric clenched his teeth tighter.

 

“Oh,” she started before pausing, “how about that shipment?”

 

“The entire thing?” The voice questioned.

 

The voice that belonged to a very unsavory individual. Some Black Sun thug and his damn X.O. was talking to him as if they were buddies. Knowing her, they probably were.

 

“What? Are you afraid he will actually blow up?”

 

“Arn’t you?”

 

“Not at all,” her laughter caused his hide to roll. “I would welcome it.”

 

“Won’t you get into trouble?

 

“Naw, it is all about how you write up the reports. I am not the least bit concerned. So are you interested?”

 

Aric closed his eyes again, trying, in vain, to push their conversation out of his mind. Opening his eyes he peered at the mass of tangled wires; exhaling slowly through his nose. It appeared that only the blue and the red wires were actually live, all the rest were to confuse. That or the blasted bomb maker thought countless wires made the bomb harder to defuse. Kark it, he already knew that, he was thinking in damn circles.

 

Fingers shaking slightly Aric followed the wires back to where they appeared to be attached to the detonite stick. Palms growing slick he traced the blue wires towards their point of attachment.

 

“If he blows himself up you get the shipment for free?” That gravely voice questioned.

 

“Aye.”

 

“What if he manages to disarm da bomb? Whatta I get then?” the damned Black Sun thug pressed.

 

“Throw in a case of whisky?” she offered.

 

“Not enough, have to make other bombs, n’ have to rig all the crates again. How about some of the glitterstims I know ya have. ‘bout twenty of them will do.”

 

“Fair enough, I pay for the shipment, throw in the whisky and the stims. That is of course if he manages to actually disarm it and not splatter his worthless hide all over the street.”

 

“If he manages to disarm the bomb, ya. If he blows well, I be givin’ you the shipment for free.”

 

“Deal. Though you will be stuck with the stench of burning fur.”

 

“Can deal with that. ‘specially if I get them stims.”

 

The man’s low rumble of a laugh pulled his attention away from the damn bomb. He needed to focus, to get this finished. Once this crate was disarmed, then he was out of here. Aric didn’t care what the mission was, he was not going to be sticking around, his damn X.O. could do whatever in the Nineth Corellian Hell she planned to do in this sector.

 

Before he could do that though, he had to disarm the damn bomb. He had already gotten rid of three of the things; had actually seen cautious residents come down to claim the supplies within. And then that thug had showed up and instead of fighting him or at least detaining and questioning him, his bloody X.O. had actually started chatting the man up. Aric growled under his breath. He knew the crates would be rigged again in no time, but at least he had tried.

 

Exhaling through parted lips, his index claw sliced through the blue wires. Then he grabbed the detonite stick as he swiped his hand through the tangled mass, a rainbow of assorted wire fragments showering the inside of the supply crate. “Let’s see how long it takes for him to put that together,” Aric growled under his breath as he stood up, the detonite stick still clutched in his hand.

 

Growling he stalked past their suddenly mute forms.

 

As the distance between them grew his X.O. finally yelled out. “Where do you think you are going?”

 

He stopped, not even bothering to look behind. “Headed back to Captain Theraguin, Sir.” He moved away lengthening his stride, her shouted reply muffled by the rapidly increasing distance.

 

 

 

 

AN

It is a little thing, but since I was insane enough to try to actually put all of these onto a timeline, I use the SW calendar, which is as follows:

5 days = 1 week

7 weeks = 1 month

1 year = 368 days

10 months + 3 festive weeks + 3 days = 1 year

 

 

Edited by Kitar
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Morning. I'm happy to see I have broken 500 views. People are reading!

I hope everyone who is reading is enjoying. This one is a little bit long.

 

Spoilers: an NPC in the trooper's Ord Mantell story arc is mentioned as well as the NPC's roll.

 

CHAPTER 9

 

 

 

 

Year 3645 Hours Later

CORUSCANT

 

Fingers drumming on his thigh he waited. Aric continued to stare at the wall, waiting. Time seemed to fly as fast as drying duracrete. What was taking so long? What could she be doing in there? Finally the door opened. Bolting to his feet he ran his hands over his dingy, field-dirty, durasteel aurmor. Quickly he moved through the open door coming to a stop before the neatly organized desk. The woman sitting behind it had her head down reading a datapad, her grey hair pulled back in an immaculate bun. Firing off a brisk salute he waited for a response. Finally she looked up.

 

“At ease Sergeant, you said you had pressing news?”

 

“Yes General, I do. I can not sit on this any longer. I brought along all pertinent information and documentation that I will need to back up my reports and accusations, Sir.”

 

“Accusations?” Her brow creased, “what accusations?”

 

He swallowed hard, completely unsure how this was going to be received but after this afternoon, after all the damn sleepless nights being terrorized on that damn ship, he had to do something. Taking a deep breath he handed her his datapad. Her hands unfolded and gently took the offered device.

 

Aric stared ahead, eyes locked on the wall. It had been hard enough to write the reports in the first place; laying out what had happened in clear, precise statements and non-biased facts had been nearly impossible for him to do. He had done it though, done it and managed to keep it hidden away. After what he had gone through today, he didn’t care if he got thrown in the brig, if he was accused of doing it out of jealousy. They could strip of his rank, throw him behind a desk, hell they could throw him in a cell, he did not care what the brass did to him. He didn’t care as long as someone took it seriously. Someone had to, this was the proper chain of authority, he was pursuing things through right channels.

 

Swallowing he waited; hands slipping behind his back as he assumed a tense parade rest. Seconds continued to tick by, slowly, painfully slow. The room became silent as she examined the datapad, finger systematically scrolling through the stack of reports. Intently he stared at the wall, trying to ignore the woman before him and her muffled sighs and sharp intakes of air.

 

Her voice finally shattered the silence. “These are very serious accusations Sergeant. Extortion, racketeering, criminal endangerment of civilians, unsanctioned medical experimentation, non consensual sexual contact...” He heard the clink of the datapad being set on metal. “You realize with charges of this nature there will be an inquiry and a trail based on the outcome.”

 

“Yes General.”

 

“You will be required to testify, considering the intimate relationship you have with quite a few of these accusations will you be able to?”

 

Aric nodded.

 

“Why didn't you report this behavior when it happened? Why wait so long to bring this information to my attention? The first report was dated fifty days ago.”

 

“I was told that if I spoke of my treatment I would be severely punished. That if I didn’t behave as she wished I would never again receive another promotion. I... I believe her, Sir.”

 

“What changed to prompt you to come forward now?”

 

“What she did this afternoon.”

 

“What did she do?”

 

“We… I was asked by a CorSec, Captain Theraguin, to help. The Black Sun have been rigging supply crates to blow when the residents open them. It is a sick game that they play.”

 

“Did she assist in disarming the bombs?”

 

He shook his head, “No, she did not Sir. While I was working on disarming and removing the bombs from the supply crates a known Black Sun associate walked up to our position. She proceeded to talk to this individual and placed a side bet.”

 

“She knew this individual?”

 

“Yes Sir she did, apparently she conducts business with him on a regular basis.”

 

“Interesting. Out of curiosity what was the bet for?”

 

“If I would blow myself up.”

 

“I see,” her voice dripped disapproval.

 

He looked at her, for the first time in weeks, hopeful.

 

“You stated in your report that her abuse started immediately after she was given command of the squad?”

 

“Yes Sir.”

 

“That it consisted of verbal and psychological abuse, which then escalated into physical abuse twenty-five days ago.”

 

He nodded, clenching his eyes shut fighting the warmth that was pressing against his eyelids.

 

“After enduring this for over a month why come forward now?” Her voice had softened. “Tell me

Jorgan.”

 

Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes continuing to stare at the wall. “I could not let her hurt anyone else.”

 

“Hurt?” She stared at him, silently asking for further explanation.

 

“I know I am under suspicion, that people think I had something to do with the squad’s defections. But the Lieutenant is not fit to lead General, she has absolutely no moral compass. If left unchecked she will drive the squad into the ground along with its good name. She does not care who she hurts with her reckless behavior.”

 

He swallowed, taking a bolstering breath before continuing, “She constantly degrades my performance, both in the field and out, it is criticized and belittled. I constantly hear how worthless I am. I hear it so often it gets hard to remember it is not true, to not believe it.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I know it is not true,” He swallowed, speaking louder, “I am decorated, received accommodations for my work in the field, graduated at the top of my class. She absolutely refuses to listen to anything I have to say. She just defames my character and assigns me to the most remedial and mundane tasks.” He swallowed shaking his head, “It is not how a squad is supposed to operate. I know it is not how a squad is supposed to operate.

 

He shifted his weight, trying not to fidget as the General watched him. “I try to remember she is lying. I have gotten used to her hurting me… It is just the two of us on that ship. She hurts me, but there it is only me. She thought it was funny the crates were going to blow. She could have hurt civilians, kids, and she thought it was funny.”

 

Briefly he closed his eyes, breathing deeply though his nose taking a moment to compose himself. “I wanted to stop her from hurting anyone else. It’s probably useless, but I wanted to try. I know something has to happen or she will cause an incident that will be a nightmare to deal with.”

 

“I believe you Sergeant,” her voice was so soft.

 

Warmth trickled down his cheeks. Blinking he looked at her. She was looking up at him, the usual sternness in her countenance gone. She looked concerned.

 

“I believe you. I will begin the inquiry immediately.” Her hands reached out, grasping the datapad. Opening a drawer on the side of her desk she gently placed the device. Fingers closed the nearly hidden drawer, flying over a numpad before it chirped announcing it was now locked. “Is there anything else you wish to tell me? Anything you want to elaborate on?”

 

“No Sir. I, I would prefer not to.”

 

“I understand. I am granting you two days leave. If you need to speak with anyone, about any of this, I can refer you to a very discrete individual who has the clearance to speak with Special Forces.”

 

“That won’t be necessary Sir,” he shook his head, “Do you require anything else?”

 

“No Sergeant I do not, you are dismissed.”

 

Nodding he sniffled, repressing the urge to wipe his face in front of her. Silently he saluted her before turning on his heel and walking out, as he passed through her office door, armor plated fingers brushed the tear soaked fur on his cheeks attempting to dry it as he headed towards the taxi. He wanted to get out of here, get to his apartment and out of his armor.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

He had returned to the ship a couple of hours ago. The air was stale, all sent trials faded. A smile dared to appear on his lips. Had the General acted to quickly? Was she really gone off the ship? After he had returned his leatheris duffle to his bunk and set his boots on the floor, Aric had quietly and systematically checked the entire ship. There was no one else on board. Smiling to himself he went to inspect and clean up the weapons locker. Her absence had to mean the General had already acted. He could not be more pleased.

 

As he worked Aric caught the undeniable scent of her stench. He froze as his eyes widened, ears straining he tried to listen. There behind him he heard the steady footfall of booted feet. Those feet stopped outside the weapons locker.

 

“It appears you have been busy.”

 

His skin crawled. Why was she here, was hadn’t she been detained?

 

“Apparently you didn’t believe me when I said your life was going to get worse if you attempted to tell what was going on inside this ship. Now you are going to find out.”

 

Slowly he turned, she was standing there, blaster in one hand, slave collar in the other. Keeping his voice even Aric answered. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Oh, do not waste your time attempting to play games with me. We both know you are way to stupid to pull it off, mental pursuits have never been your strong point.” She took a step closer. “You actually went to the General. You went to the General and told her lies about me.”

 

“I didn’t lie, everything was the truth.”

 

“Oh, so now you remember what you did.”

 

“I never forgot,” Aric snarled as his fingers curled into fists.

 

“So you do not deny it?”

 

“No. Why are you here?”

 

“Oh did you think that would be enough to get rid of me. I already told you, you are mine. That has not changed. I managed to persuade the General to forget all about the horrible false accusation that you made, that you were slandering me.”

 

“What? No.” He gritted his teeth as his claws extended, digging into his palms.

 

“Oh yes, it wasn’t hard to do at all. You are such a jealous, lazy, worthless subordinate. She has completely disregarded your little meeting, as if it never happened.”

 

“You can't do that.” He snarled.

 

“I can and I did. You will get it through your thick skull that my way is the only way. I am going to make things crystal clear to you. Break it down into such simple Basic that even you will comprehend it.”

 

Aric felt the ship groan under his feet as the repulsoliftors engaged. The vibrating increased as the ship’s engine warmed. “What are you doing?” he growled, “where are you taking the ship?”

 

“Well I am not taking it anywhere, SeeToo is piloting the vessel. I really do wonder how you have the ability to walk and breathe at the same time. I can’t be possibly flying this rig if I am here conversing with you now can I?”

 

She took a step closer, he backed up. Eyes scanning the entry of the weapons locker. It was to narrow, trying to slip past her was going to be hard. Another advancing step had him backing into the wall of rifles mounted behind him.

 

“Where are we going?” Aric growled, fingers digging into his palms as he fought the urge to lunge at her.

 

“Nope,” she shook her head, “It would be much more fun to simply show you. It will really illustrate the point I am trying to make.” She brought her hand up, idly playing with the black collar clasped in her green fingertips. “Strip out of those damn fatigues.”

 

“No,” he snarled as he exploded past her, his clenched hands reaching out to shove her sideways. The satisfaction he felt when he heard her body collide with the durasteel was almost enough to bring a smile to his face. Claws scrambling to create contact on the cool flooring, he pushed past her. Aric nearly fell onto his hands when he cleared the threshold. Turning he pushed his body towards the barracks. Suddenly a sharp pain erupted in the back of his head. Stumbling he tripped over his numbing feet, Aric’s hands flew to brace his body as he crumpled onto the durasteel floor.

 

A cool numbness spread though his body, his mind screamed at his body to move. But it wouldn’t. His anger grew as he tried to move. She couldn't do this to him. Not again.

 

Slow methodical footsteps approached him. They seemed to echo through the common area. They stopped just out of his vision. A sharp pain bit his arm; another damn stim. The numbness grew, causing his eyes to grow blurry. Everything started to grow black before he succumbed to the stim.

 

~*~

 

Groaning he moved. His head throbbed. Bringing his hand up, Aric rubbed his face. Carefully he cracked open an eye, examining his surroundings. He was still in the common area, and he didn’t feel the ship moving. The subtle vibration that would have told him he was still in hyperspace. Where had she taken him? Cracking open his other eye he carefully looked around. For all appearances he was alone.

 

Everything still felt off, slightly fuzzy. What had she injected him with this time? Licking his lips Aric rolled onto his back. Apparently she never touched him, his clothes were still on. That caused his fur to ripple, what was she going to do with him?

 

Groaning, Aric tried to sit up. As he moved he felt a pull around his neck. Bracing his body upright with his left hand he reached up, cautiously touching with his right. He wasn’t surprised to feel that cursed shock collar around his neck. There was another of hard metal, it encircled his neck. Turning he looked behind himself. There was a thick chain laying on the floor. Twisting he reached for it. Following it backwards he saw it was crudely attached to a floor grate. Swallowing he reversed his grip following the chain and closed his eyes as his hand moved towards his own neck. Clawed fingertips stopped at the thick metal that encircled his throat. He was chained to the floor in the common room. Kark it. Now what was she going to do?

 

Rubbing his face he twisted away from the thick chain. How was he going to get out of this one? Aric glanced around the dimly lit room. He didn’t see her anywhere. Ears straining, he tried to hear her on the ship.

 

Only silence reached his ears.

 

Looking around he spotted a metallic glint on the ground nearby. Canting his head he stared. He could not quite make out what it was. Rolling towards it, his hands grabbed for the glint. Claws brushed against material. Confused he picked it up. It was a mere slip of material. As he stared at it, it dawned on him what it was. He dropped it, she was insane.

 

Twisting he turned away, returning his attention to the thick chain. Slowly he eased his body onto his knees, carefully collecting the chain as he moved towards the grate. There had to be someway to get out of the damn restraint, he was going to figure it out. As he neared he saw a piece of flimsiplast stuck to the flooring. Frowning he picked it up. He scowled as he stared at it, it was a note. It simply stated, Change or you will be shot.

 

Head snapping up, green-gold eyes swept across the room, he appeared to be alone. The dropped slip of material sat crumpled on the floor. Nothing else was out of place. Then he turned his attention to the ship’s barracks, where his durasteel armor sat on the floor near his bed. If she shot him now it could potentially kill him, depending on where she hit him. Fatigues didn’t stop blaster bolts.

 

Aric stared at the scrap sitting by the grate. She would shoot him, she had already done it once. He frowned gritting his teeth, he didn’t want to put that damn thing on. He also didn’t want to get shot again. Pulling his eyes off the flimsiplast he once again looked around the room, he didn’t see her anywhere. But not seeing her did not mean she was not watching.

 

Closing his eyes, he tilted his head backward, inhaling deeply through his nose. Cracking open his mouth he pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth and smelled, trying to determine where she might be. He did not detect her scent in the room. Not even an older faded trail. She had not been in here in hours. Opening green-gold eyes, he looked towards her quarters, he didn’t see any lights peaking down the stairs.

 

Frowning he again he look at the dropped garment. He didn’t want to put that damn thing on. Closing his eyes, he swallowed, he didn’t want to but he had to. She was probably counting on him refusing, she probably wanted to shoot him again. He had no doubt in his mind that she would shoot him, possibly kill him if he refused. She had told that thug she welcomed him dying.

 

Growling he slowly turned on the floor, moving towards the damn thing. Moving on his knees he carefully set the chain on the ground, taking the utmost care to not make a sound as he progressed across the durasteel floor. He really didn’t want to do this, but if he was dead, she would win. She would get away with everything. He had no idea how she was back on the ship and not in custody, he didn’t know what she had told the General.

 

If he was dead he would never find out.

 

Sitting back on his haunches he relinquished his grip on the chain. The unaccustomed weight pulling against his neck uncomfortable. Reaching out he picked up the material. Sighing he held it up in both hands, it was dark red, ridiculously small, with a gold waistband. His stomach rolled, why did he have to put this on?

 

What was she going to do this time? He stared at the offending material, Aric knew deep in his gut, she was going to shoot him again if he didn’t obey. If he was dead she would get away with it. He couldn't let that happen. His fur flinched rolling down his back, he couldn't. Fingers shaking he set the slip of clothing on the floor. Taking a deep breath he proceeded to unbutton and remove his grey shirt.

 

Folding it he set it on the floor next to him. He lifted his rump up, unbuckling and sliding off his slacks and boxers. Looking around the room, he made sure he was still alone. Peering through the shadows he confirmed what his nose had already told him, he was alone. He had no idea where she was. Gently setting his clothes down by his shirt he picked up the embarrassing small slip of material. Gritting his teeth he pulled the damn thing on. It hardly covered him, it was extremely revealing. Hands covering his modesty he looked around again, expecting her to jump out of the shadows. But he was alone. Ears straining he didn’t even hear the ship’s droid.

 

Sitting on the cool floor he waited. And waited. She never appeared. Aric’s eyes drifted to the chrono on the wall. It’s silent red numbers, slowly ticking away. On Coruscant it was two in the morning; here, wherever he was he had no idea what time it was. The numbers relentlessly marched on, he shifted his position on the floor, trying to get comfortable as he stared at the chrono. Keeping one hand over his groin, he shifted the other to cushion his head.

 

Staring at the chrono he waited, but she never appeared. His eyes grew heavy as he watched the red numbers. He fought to keep his eyes open, but he failed succumbing to sleep.

 

 

“Get up,” her voice snarled as a heavy object collided with his ribcage. Grunting he shot upwards, as another blow landed on his back. “Get up.”

 

Hand wrapping around his waist Aric blinked, eyes landing on her. She was dressed in completely nondescript clothing. He shivered looking at her in her civilian clothes. Where where they?

 

“Get up!” she snarled as her foot drew back. Her black boot collided with his back.

 

Grunting he rolled away from her, only to be caught by the chain. Scrambling he tried to back up, his back hitting the wall.

 

Smiling she advanced on him. “You cost me credits, you cost me stims.” She stepped closer, he felt like mouse being stalked by a snake. “I was drug in to speak with the General.” She stopped in front of him. “She was asking me about those crates, about the Black Sun.” Slowly she brought her hand upward. His eyes latched on her olive green skin. Contained within her hand was a small black square. “I do not like being questioned by the General.” Her finger moved and instantly his teeth slammed together as his back arched backwards.

 

Clenching his teeth, he refused to cry out. His fur stood on end as his muscles spasmed. After what seemed to be an eternity the pain ended. Bringing his head up he glared at her. She looked at him smiling.

 

“Now that I have your attention, stand up.” She held up the black remote.

 

He shivered. Slowly he stood up, eyes locked onto the remote. “Where are we?” he questioned, waiting for her to shock him again.

 

“Uh uh uhh,” She waggled her finger in front of his her grin taking on a serpentine appearance. “I told you it was more fun to show you. I thought showing you would … leave a lasting impression.” She stalked past him, unfastening the chain from the grate. She pulled on it yanking him forward. Aric stumbled, nearly falling onto his hands. She bent down, staring him in the eye. Her violet eyes bored into him as her remote holding hand disappeared into her jacket. It reappeared holding a stim. He started shaking, as she held the stim upright. “If I have to use this. I will leave you here.”

 

“Do you understand?”

 

Numbly he nodded, watching as the damn thing disappeared back into her jacket pocket.

 

Yanking on the chain she moved away towards the gangplank. Trembling he unwillingly followed.

 

She lead him through the darkened ship and down the lowered ramp. A suffocating smell of sulfur and stagnant water assaulted his nose. Looking up through the green-tinged pollution choked, overcast sky, Aric was barely able to make out the artificially illuminated heavenly body overhead. It reminded him of Coruscant. Where in the Ninth Corellian Hell had she taken him?

 

When he stepped off the durasteel his foot sank into foul smelling sludge. With a grunt he was thrown off balance as she pulled sharply on the chain. Growling he caught himself before he fell into the muck covered walkway.

 

“Keep up,” she hissed as she pulled him further away from the Thunderclap. She pulled him deeper into the bowels of a dirty, rusting spaceport. Abruptly she stopped. He nearly collided into the back of her.

 

A large Neimoidian male appeared before them. Aric looked around, realizing for the first time that there was not another living being around them. The three of them were alone.

 

“So what do we have here?” The Neimoidian's voice was a smooth, nearly slimy, tenor. They approached; his red eyes calculating as they passed over Aric’s body. “Hmmm a Cathar, unexpected. Was hoping you had another Twi'lek, always in the market for a nice Twi'lek.”

 

Aric's eyes widened as he stared at the Neimoidian, his words echoing through his head. The man was a slave trader.

 

“Nope, sorry, not this time. Things have changed a bit for me, not as easy to acquire them as it used to be.”

 

“Ahh,” the Neimoidian sighed, “such a pity. If you happen to come across one, I am always interested. Especially if you can find one of the quality equal to your last one.”

 

She laughed, “I did not think you were so smitten with the last one.”

 

“A nice lethan Twi’lek is always a welcome find. That skin color very attractive.”

 

“His skin colour might have been attractive but his mouth certainly was not. Always complaining and so demanding.

 

The Neimoidian shrugged, “Been told ample amounts of electricity can cure most problems, not my concern though,” he waved his hand dismissively. “I just market them, the rest is up to the buyer.”

 

Aric’s eyes widened as he began to search his surroundings, tightening down on the churning in his stomach. He could not look like he was trying to find a way out of here. Green-gold eyes skimmed over the top of the Neimoidian. The hall seemed to be deserted, but it was an illusion, there were eyes, seemly adverted, that were intently watching the quiet exchange. There were so many eyes watching, the massive Human in the corner, appearing to watch the departure terminal, the duo of armored mercenaries whose helmeted visages appeared to be overlooking the vast corridor, dangerously close was a collared Twi’lek who gave him a sympathetic look before lowering her head and slipping away into the darkened interior. Further down the hall was a pair of Gamorreans, leaning against the dingy wall, axes loosely gripped as they stared down the building’s occupants.

 

Claws extended as he dug them into his palms. Gammorreans and a slave trader, he had to be on a Hutt controlled planet. Then he remembered the industrialized world above, Nar Shaddaa was a Hutt industrialized moon… His stomach sank, if that was Nar Shaddaa above him, that meant he was on Hutta, the filthy polluted cesspool of Hutta.

 

Even if he somehow managed to get away from her, and the damn guards, how would he get out of here? Telling people his name and rank would not do him any good, he doubted anyone would care. Considering how he was barely dressed, he didn’t think anyone would believe him. In all likelihood he would be brought back to her.

 

Aric’s eyes shifted to where she was standing, hips canted casually resting one hand on her blaster’s grip while the other grasped the end of the thick chain. She was smiling while she talked to the Neimoidian. His eyes locked onto the pocket that contained the damn stim. He didn’t want to get stuck with that thing and left here.

 

“So you do not have access to another Twi’lek?”

 

“I do not but if I happen to procure one I will definitely let you know.” Her hand briefly left her blaster’s grip. “I did not think Mirru had been so well received, but I will keep it in the back of my mind you are interested.”

 

Mirru…. He knew that name, Aric’s eyes widened momentarily. That was the Twi’lek informant from the Fort, the one who had given the lead on the stolen bomb. She had kidnapped Mirru and sold him to this trader? For what reason? Maybe it wasn’t connected maybe the poor guy had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. He filed it away in the back of his mind that if he got out of this with his own freedom intact he needed to track the refugee down. Find out what really happened to him.

 

“Well that is disappointing. So what are you wanting with this one?”

 

Aric’s attention snapped to the Neimoidian. The man had taken a step closer to him; his red eyes critically examining his body.

 

“You know that is a rougher market, most want females. People hesitate to spend credits on a possibly volatile investment. I handle such merchandise with caution.”

 

“Well,” she purred, “I do have a little something that assists with that small issue.”

 

“Do you?” those red eyes left and shifted to her relaxed form.

 

“I do. Been working on a very promising sedative, takes that ornery streak right outta them. Still perfecting the dosage of course but clinical trials have been highly informative.” Her hand moved to the interior pocket of her jacket.

 

An unconscious shudder ran down his spine as Aric watched those green fingers pull out the stim. She held it upright as the man moved to examine the cursed vial.

 

Aric fought to control the tremor that surged through him, he was terrified of that damn vial and what she might do to him. Was she really going to stick him with that thing and leave him here, with that karking broker? How would she even be able to pull that off. Digging his claws deeper into his palms he felt warmth on his fingertips. He wanted to run, to get as far away from them as possible. It wasn’t possible, if he did he would never go home. She would see to that. Keeping his body still he tried to act completely passive, not giving either of them an excuse to even look at him.

 

“Really,” the Neimoidian stepped even closer to her. “May I,” he reached out.

 

“Of course,” she handed the capped stim over.

 

The Neimoidian gently took it from her, holding it up in the low lighting. Aric’s eyes locked onto it, watching the nearly-clear, green-tinted liquid move within. He had never actually seen it up close before. To think such an unassuming liquid could cause him so much pain.

 

“Is this for sale?” the Neimoidian inquired, casually twisting the vial in the air peering through it.

 

“Not yet no, a few more weeks of testing and I will be open to selling it in small batches for a larger field trial.”

 

“I am interested to know when you reach that stage. Always interested in expanding the product I can move.” He reached out returning the stim to her casually outstretched palm.

 

“Of course, you know you are always at the top of my list.”

 

The Neimoidian smiled. “It is a good place to be.” His red gaze returned to Aric’s body. Quietly gesturing he pointed in Aric’s direction. “So why have you brought him here? Are you interested in a sale, a trade perhaps for different one? I do know of another who has a very exotic Cathar, she has gown tired of his fur color. He is coal black, must be kept under sedation though. Perhaps he will further your research.”

 

“No,” she smiled, her tone laughing. “I am not ready to part with this one yet, I am not finished him.”

 

Aric shuddered letting his gaze drop to the filthy grungy floor.

 

“I am simply here for an appraisal.” Her laughter grew. “Do you think you could give me one, fair market. So I have a better idea what I stand to make.”

 

“Of course.” The Neimoidian stepped even closer. “He will not react poorly to this will he? You know if he does you shall be responsible for all medical bills and credits lost.”

 

“Yes, I know. He will behave or I will leave him here with you and you can do with him what you wish.” Her voice grew cold, all laughter gone in a heartbeat.

 

“Very well, I shall appraise.”

 

Biting his lip Aric stood completely still, staring at the floor. He wasn’t going to give her any reason to leave him here with that trader. He grit his teeth as those foreign fingers started to touch his body. Tracing muscles, parting fur to look at old injuries received in the line of duty. Hands slipped where hands had no business being. Aric bit back and swallowed a growl, when those damn hands touched him through the embarrassing thin material. Those hands demanded admittance to his mouth, touched his fangs, his teeth.

 

Then the hands disappeared. Looking up Aric watched the Neimoidian back away, intently punching the surface of a datapad. He hit a button and her datapad beeped. He looked at her offering her a slight bow. “That offer is based off what was seen today, current body condition, and body coloring. I have not seen any with that color, that will raise the value.”

 

“If I finish the research on my newest product?”

 

“If I can guarantee a method to keep them docile, the value will go up. There will be a demand for them to be sold as a package.”

 

“Oh I am counting on it. I will notify you when I am at that stage. See you around.”

 

“A pleasure doing business, contact me if you wish to trade for the black furred one.”

 

“Of course,” she purred before she turned on her foot. Yanking the chain in her hand, she pulled him off balance causing him to stumble as he turned to try and follow her.

 

Scowling he hurried to catch up with her. She was rapidly walking back to the waiting Thunderclap. The gangplank was still lowered. His barefeet squelched in the muck as he followed her up the ramp. They had barely made it back into the ship when she bellowed, her voice rolling through the empty ship. “SeeToo, contact the damn tower and get us out of here.”

 

The tinny voice of the protocol droid responded, “Right away Sir, I shall contact the tower and being take off procedures immediately.”

 

“Just shut up and do it,” she growled under her breath as she rounded on Aric.

 

“I have to admit I am surprised. I honestly thought I would be leaving you behind there.” Her hand reached out touching his neck.

 

He repressed a shudder as his fur begged to flinch under her touch.

 

“Perhaps you do actually learn.” She leaned in hand running between the thick chain and his fur. “So do you want to know what his appraisal was? Do you? I wonder can you actually count that high? You might be able to. Let me tell you, I sell you can I can retire tomorrow. Who knew your worthless hide was actually worth something after all.”

 

He stared at her, silent.

 

“So,” her hand continued to move through his fur. “If I ever have to go in front of the general again. If I ever have to explain away your silly and baseless accusations. I will be contacting my friend and you will be leaving with him. My dealings are mine alone, involving her in them, well that was utterly asinine.” She stepped closer, “Have I made myself clear to you?”

 

Aric continued to stare, burning blaster bolts through her skull.

 

She stepped closer, uncomfortably close. Her other green hand touched the other side of his neck. A click echoed through the air and the thick chain dropped with a heavy rattle to the durasteel flooring. Her hand continued to the back of his neck and in a heartbeat the heavy pressure against his neck was gone. The cool metal vanished off the nape of his neck.

 

She backed up half a step, green hand casually holding the damn black collar. “Now,” she purred. “I want you to take that off and get into my quarters.”

 

“No,” Aric growled.

 

“What did you say?” her brow furrowed as her smile disappeared.

 

“Said no, should check your damn hearing.”

 

“You will,” she hissed

 

“I will do no such thing. I won’t. There is absolutely nothing you can do to make me willingly go into that room.” Aric growled.

 

“I want you..”

 

“No,” he cut her off, “you have never had me, you will never have me. Ever. Things are going to eventually change around here, a squad is not two people. How much juggling are you going to have to do then? Eventually you will get caught.”

 

“How dare you!” she snarled, her hand reaching for the interior of her jacket.

 

“No.” he snarled, shoving her with enough force to knock her backwards onto her backside. He spun on his filth covered foot and ran towards the crew’s barracks. He slid into the door, grabbing the durasteel frame as he twisted to punch the numpad. It locked behind him. Sinking to his rump he sat on the floor, back against the locked door. Her angry footsteps pounded across the open room.

 

Aric heard her standing on the other side of the room, he could smell her. She lingered before finally speaking. “Open this door.”

 

“No. I will not,” he yelled loud enough to be heard through the thick durasteel.

 

“That is an order.”

 

“I do not care, call the authorities, have me arrested. You know damn well they will haul me off this ship and away from you.”

 

A loud thud shook the door.

 

“You know I am right.” Aric took a deep breath, debating how far he should push it. He had this feeling she had not been told about the rest of the charges he had leveled against her in that report. He didn’t know how she had managed to convince Garza to forget, but she had. Taking a deep breath he leaned his head back against the door. Aric also knew that if she ever figured it out he would be back with that Neimoidian again.

 

“You will have to come out sometime!” She snarled.

 

“Not tonight I don’t. Or tomorrow. Get used to doing field work alone.” He bit his lower lip waiting for her response.

 

“You can’t…”

 

“And you can’t stick me with those damn things anymore.”

 

“You can’t tell me what to do!” She yelled through the door. His head bounced as she pounded on the durasteel.

 

A frustrated growl echoed through the common area as another thud collided with the locked door. Footsteps moved away.

 

He let go of a breath he did not realize he was holding. Rubbing his face with his hands he let his head hit against the durasteel. That was stupid. Mouthing off was stupid, that act of rebellion was going to bite him in the arse.

 

Aric sighed, hands dropping into his lap. He needed a drink. Rolling his head against the door, he listened. He didn’t hear anything, it appeared that the common room was empty. Closing his eyes he cracked open his mouth, inhaling deeply. He could smell her but it was faint; she was not nearby.

 

Slowly he stood, keeping his ear against the door. Straining he studied the silence.

 

Nothing.

 

His hand reached towards the door’s numpad. Keying in the code the door clicked, the damn sound echoed through his ear ringing. Kark it, she was going to hear. The noise faded, no new sounds responded. No hurried footsteps.

 

Clawed fingertips moved, depressing the last button. The durasteel door opened with an incredibly loud whoosh. Frack it, his heart pounded in his chest as he waited. Still nothing.

 

Creeping forward on barefeet he slinked into the dimly lit common area. Everything was dark, barely illuminated with auxiliary lighting. His ear flicked, picking up on muffled noises emanating from the closed door leading to his X.O.’s quarters. There was no light escaping from under her door. Unless she hiding in another room on this ship, it appeared that she had turned in for the night.

 

Continuing on the pads of his feet, he slipped through the darkness, heading past the medical bay. Pausing he looked over his shoulder, the door was still closed. Exhaling a quiet sigh of relief he returned his trek to the ‘fresher. He needed to shower, or at the least clean that sludge off his feet. Creeping across the threshold he closed the ‘fresher door behind him, locking it.

 

Turning on the water, he grabbed a new towel. As soon as the temperature was just this side of tolerable and not freezing; he stripped off the joke that passed for clothing and jumped in. Moments later he had completely soaped up and rinsed off. Sloughing off the excess water with the edge of his hand, he stepped out wrapping the towel around his waist.

 

Scowling he looked at the clothing laying on the floor. Suddenly a grin cracked through his frown. Bending over he snatched the damn thing off the floor. His stride ate the distance to the door. Quickly unlocking it he killed the lights before opening the door. Silent darkness still covered the huge room. His grin grew as he clutched his towel tighter and slipped towards the Cargo Bay.

 

Stepping into the deserted bay, he spotted what he was looking for. A small collection of stacked wooden crates sulked in the corner. A stack with roughed-up, painted over exteriors. His grin widened. He had a good idea where he could get his drink. Kneeling next to the crates he extended his claws. Jamming his claws under the lip he slowly worked the lid upward, catching it in his other hand when it popped free. Setting it against another crate; his grin grew even wider.

 

Nestled within were twelve bottles.

 

Reaching in he picked up one. Holding it up he tilted the bottle until the glass caught and reflected the barely present light. Corellian Whisky. The good stuff. Grasping the lid he opened the bottle, the smooth oak notes, teased his nose as the amber liquid rolled within. Bringing it to his lips he took a drink, rolling the mouthful around his tongue before swallowing. Smooth, slightly woody and a touch of spice on the back end. He hated to admit it, but the schutta had damn good taste in liquor.

 

Replacing the stopper, he set it down with a muffled thunk on the dursteel next to him. Grabbing the crate’s lid we went to put it back into place when he stopped. His teeth flashed in the darkness as he smiled. Taking the slip of clothing he set it, metallic waistband up in the empty compartment. Returning the lid to the wooden crate, he pushed. Grunting he manged to half close the crate. Good enough.

 

Grabbing the bottle he snuck out of the Cargo bay. Glancing at her still-closed door he hurried to the crew’s barracks and his waiting bed. The moment he slipped across the threshold, he locked the door.

 

Exhaling he leaned against the cool door as he pulled the lid off the bottle. Taking another drink he closed his eyes. Opening his eyes he double checked, making sure the door was securely locked before crossing to the bunk under his. Easing his body onto the mattress he studied the bottle in his hand. He was in such a fracking mess and he had no idea how he was going to get out of it. Taking another drink he savored the whisky as it rolled around his mouth. How did he get himself into this mess? He sighed, the ancestors only knew and sadly they were not talking.

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

Sighing, he picked his head up staring at the locked door. He had not heard anything for hours. Nothing. He did feel the nearly perceptible vibration of the ship traveling in hyperspace. Where the Thunderclap was headed, he had no idea. Hopefully far away from that foul planet.

 

Standing he stretched, arms over his head. Lowering his hands, he cautiously moved across the room. Pausing by the door, he pressed his ear against the metal. Silence.

 

His stomach rumbled, sighing he smoothed his grey fatigues before keying in the code into the doors numlock. The door slid open and to his surprise the common room was empty. He could smell caf. Puzzled he looked across the room, her door was closed. His stomach growled. Ignoring it he cautiously approached the galley. It was empty. Inside there was a fresh pot of caf on the counter. It was almost full. And sitting next to it was a mug.

 

He paused staring, odd. She never made extra. Scowling he approached the waiting caf carafe; waiting for it to grow fangs and bite him. It didn’t move and the mug sitting next to it appeared to be clean. Looking back over his shoulder he studied her door. It appeared to still be closed. Returning his attention to the caf cup, he reached out picking it up. Turning it over he scrutinized it, smelling it. No foreign or bitter odors, nothing overly sweet. It looked like a clean mug. Frowning, he set the mug in the sink. Reaching into the cabinet over the caf machine he selected a new mug.

 

As he poured the steaming black caf into the mug, he heard footsteps behind him. Freezing he tightened his grip on the carafe.

 

“Good morning,” she mumbled as she entered the room.

 

His head snapped around, intently watching as she moved past him.

 

“They got a lead, headed back to Coruscant,” she mumbled as she set her mug in the sink, before turning and walking out of the room. His green-gold eyes locked onto her, never leaving her retreating form until she was back within her room and the door was closed.

 

Setting the caf carafe back he stared at her door. Shaking his head, he watched the closed door to her quarters. “What the in the Ninth Hell just happened?” he whispered.

 

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Happy Saturday!

 

CHAPTER 10

 

Spoilers:

 

Okay there are a few here. Spoilers for quests on Republic Taris. I believe they are Pirate Medicine and Catalyst.

As well as a slight spoiler for an early conversation with the companion the trooper picks up there.

 

 

 

 

Year 3645: A couple months after previous prompt

 

TARIS: OLARIS RECLAMATION BASE, MEDICAL CENTER

 

Groaning he fought to open his eyes. Cracking open a durasteel weighted lid he peered into the to bright room. Closing his eye he shifted his body, his arm slowly moving. Everything ached, everything was so stiff. At least it was quiet, all he heard was the nearly silent beeping of medical equipment. Gritting his teeth he shifted his weight in the bed.

 

It was nice and quiet. Gone were the muttered complaints, the nasty side comments whispered over his pain-wracked, sedated body. Clawed fingers gripped the thin mattress. Grunting he pushed his body backwards. He barely moved, his body screamed in protest. Panting, he attempted to pull his feet closer. His barefeet slid along the thin material, unable to find traction. Swallowing a frustrated growl he tried again to push his feet, to somehow propel his aching body upwards.

 

“Easy.”

 

A strange voice stopped him. He froze listening. He hadn’t heard her before, he didn't remember her.

 

“Take it easy.”

 

His claws extended, sinking into the material beneath him. He strained his ears flicking. The voice was feminine and most definitely Imperial.

 

“It is alright.”

 

The voice grew closer. A weight settled on his shoulder. “What do you need?”

 

He tried to speak, his mouth was so dry. Licking his lips he managed to croak, “Sit up.”

 

“Are you still feeling dizzy?” This unknown Imperial voice asked.

 

He shook his head no.

 

The weight moved, it settled under his shoulder. Hands, they had to be hands, hooked under his arms and a petite grunt hit his ear as he was hoisted upward. He was pulled backwards as if he was just a small kit. A hand disappeared as softness pressed against his back. Gently he was leaned backwards as the remaining hand left. “There that should help.”

 

His throbbing head sank into the softness, he detected the faint slightly musty scent of fowl. It was a pillow, it felt wonderful.

 

“Are you thirsty?”

 

He nodded. He was beyond thirsty, he could not remember the last time he had something to drink. It felt like ages ago.

 

“Can you open your eyes?”

 

He weakly shook his head no. “To bright,” he croaked.

 

“Is it?” The voice hummed. Light footsteps moved away from him. His ear flicked as he listened. There was a slight sc****** across the room before they returned. “Try now,” the soft voice whispered.

 

Nodding he cracked open a bloodshot green-gold eye. The room was blessedly dark. He blinked fully opening both eyes. He looked around the medical bay. He knew it was a medical bay, he had heard the medics talking earlier. Everything was shrouded in shadow, everything was foreign black shapes. Bringing his hand to his face he rubbed, a beard clung to his jaw. Moving his hand backwards his clawed fingertips moved through his mane. Mane. He gripped his growing locks, they were long enough to grab. Sighing, he let go, rubbing his face.

 

“Here,” the voice had returned, he looked at the woman's darkened silhouette. Her medical coat was a light grey shape. He squinted her hair was pulled back into a tight bun on her head. She was holding out a cup. “It is water. Do you need help holding it?”

 

He nodded, his hand slowly reached for the cup. He slowly tightened his grip around the smooth surface and the cup slipped downward.

 

“Easy,” her hands tightened over his. “Just take it easy, you have nothing but time. No rush.”

 

The liquid was tepid, but nothing had ever tasted better. Slowly the cup tilted upward as he drank. The liquid quickly disappeared. Slowly he sank backwards into the pillow, closing his eyes. “Thank you.”

 

“You are most welcome Sergeant.”

 

He nodded, cracking open his eye he looked at the woman. “Who are you?”

 

“I am Sergeant Elara Dorne, I volunteered to keep watch over you. I do have to commend you, what you did was very brave.”

 

It took everything he had in his power to not snort in disbelief or start laughing, he did nothing. He had once again been used as a damned test subject. It had not been his idea. Far from it, he had not been thinking at all. He had been so karking stupid.

 

“From what I heard, they were able to make a workable vaccine. It will help so many people.”

 

Yes, he thought, help so many. It will help line my schutta of an X.O.'s pockets. Praying the bitterness did not creep into his voice he answered, “I hope it does help.” Licking his lips he glanced around the room. “Where is she now?” He was actually afraid to hear the answer, that she was close by.

 

“She Sir?” Elara questioned.

 

Aric nodded, “Yes my X.O.”

 

“Your Commanding Officer is currently out in the field, tracking down a lead.” She moved next to him her hand resting briefly on his forehead. Her hand left moving to his neck.

 

He bit his lip. He wasn't surprised. He had heard her cut a deal with the medic. A lucrative deal off of his pain. She always made credits off of his misery. He had been unable to find a way to stop her. He should count his blessings, if the ancestors were smiling on him she would meet her demise out in that plague infested swamp. He was surprised he was still alive, alive and not one of those twisted creatures. He shuddered as he pushed his aching back into the pillow.

 

There was no way his X.O. would actually stick around to check on him. She used him to get what she needed, she always did. He cursed his own stupidity, she had actually been nice to him. She had stopped berating him over every little detail, he should have known she was up to something.

 

“When is she due back?” he whispered.

 

“I believe she is due back tomorrow.”

 

He nodded.

 

“Do you think you have it in you to eat something? We have soup. It is not very hearty but I don't want to overwhelm your system.”

 

“Soup would be good yes.” He looked at Elara. As she moved he was able to pick up on the very faint subdued scent of lavender and dentabean. “Thank you.”

 

She flashed him a smile, “Very good, I will be back shortly.”

 

Elara straightened, moving away from the bed when he smelled her. He growled low in his throat and fought the urge to reach out and grab the medic. He didn't want to be alone with his X.O. Not now, he was to weak to fight.

 

“Oh,” her disappointed voice sighed, “You are awake.”

 

“Yes,” Elara answered, “He is recuperating quite rapidly. It is quite interesting, his system seems to heal quite rapidly.”

 

“Oh huh, yes, quite interesting.”

 

He watched his X.O. as she advanced on his bed. He fought the urge to clutch the bedding. He knew this game. If he let on at all, she was going to hurt him once they were again alone on the ship.

 

“When can his loafing hide get back to work?” Those violet eyes stared down at him, he suppressed a shudder.

 

“Loafing? Sir?” Elara's Imperial accented voice, puzzled. “I don't understand. He has been through so much. The fact he managed to beat the plague is utterly amazing. He is a very brave man to volunteer to do such a thing.” Elara's face bunched up in confusion. “I have seen his service record, it is excellent. Someone like him is a valuable edition to anyone's squad.”

 

He watched his X.O.'s face, he saw anger flicker across her fine features before her face became emotionless. “Yes,” her voice was cold and flat as she looked at Aric. He stared her in the eye unmoving as his hand unconsciously clenched the blanket. “He is valuable.”

 

She turned on her heel moving away from the medical bed when she stopped. “I need him cleared for discharge as soon as possible. Our objective here has been completed. I need to report in.” She looked back over her shoulder; his claws embedded in the thin material. “You will be reporting back for duty as soon as you are on the ship,” her voice emotionless.

 

His stomach twisted, as an involuntary shudder coursed over him. She was livid and would be taking hit out on him. His heart thudded against his chest as his mind raced trying to think of someway to defuse her anger. If he cleaned the entire ship when he returned that might help, she liked it clean.

 

No, a cold lump formed in his stomach as a heavy weight descended on his chest, no. That wouldn't be enough... He sucked in a shuddering breath, shaking as she smiled. It was almost as if she knew what he was thinking. He watched that painted mouth curl upward in a grin as he finished the unwanted thought. He knew what she wanted, he couldn't do it, he wouldn't. He knew she wanted him willing and waiting in her room. She had whispered before if he submitted she would stop using the drugs, the collar. But he couldn't, the thought of willingly touching her…. He shuddered.

 

The realization struck him, sucking the breath from his lungs. That was why she had injected him with that relic of a vaccine and used him as rakghoul bait. It was just another way to show him what would happen if she didn’t get her way. It was another twisted game, she did like them. Just another way for her to remind him she could do anything she wanted. He kept his eyes locked onto hers, as he nodded. “Yes Sir,” he croaked, his dry throat closing up.

 

That horrible grin grew as she turned away, walking out of the room.

 

Exhaling he forced his hands to relinquish the sheets. A quiet voice violently shoved him back to the reality he was not alone. His head whipped towards her voice, eyes wide as his body shook.

 

“Are you alright Sir?” Elara asked.

 

Aric stared at her, no he wasn't alright. He was trapped and there was nothing he could do about it. Shaking he moved his head, not realizing he shook it no.

 

Elara moved closer gently placing her hand on his arm, he followed her green gaze to the medical monitor by his bed, the diagnostic panel had angry furiously flashing lights. The entire thing was lit up like the Promenade on Nar Shaddaa.

 

“I know how hard it can be to serve under supervisors whose orders you question or find immoral. That is why I left the Empire,” Elara whispered. “If you need to talk to me, to report anything, I will assist you.”

 

Aric bit his lip shaking his head no. Elara looked at him a moment longer, her green eyes studying his face, “Alright,” she pushed a non-existent stray hair behind her ear, “if you ever change your mind,” she whispered, “I will not hesitate to assist you.”

 

Aric swallowed, watching her before he nodded briefly. Her hand gently rubbed the fur on his arm before withdrawing.

 

“Do you still want some soup? I will be happy to sit with you while you eat.”

 

Aric nodded. “That would be nice,” he whispered.

 

He watched as she quietly stepped out of the dimly lit medical bay, briefly he toyed with the idea of actually reporting to Elara what was happening onboard that ship. Shaking his head, he banished the thought as quickly as it occurred to him. He didn't know how he could, as nice as it sounded, it could completely backfire on him.

 

 

A knock sounded on the open doorway. Shaking he looked towards the sound. Elara stood there waiting, holding a tray with a bowl of steaming soup and a glass of liquid. “Sir. I have your soup.”

 

Aric nodded. “Thank you.”

 

Elara made her way towards his bed, “Are you feeling any better?”

 

He nodded his head, as good as he could possibly feel knowing what awaited him after he was released from her medical care.

 

“Here,” she leaned over setting the tray in his lap. “Make yourself comfortable.” She picked up the spoon, filling it with the warm clear broth.

 

He brought his hand up trying to take the spoon. “I can do it.”

 

“Nonsense, after what you have been through, save your strength.” She gently blew on the golden liquid, “I will take care of you, you are the only patient I have at the moment.”

 

He slowly leaned back into the pillows, “You don't have to.”

 

“I know, I want to. You are a good soldier, brave and selfless, let me help you.” She brought the spoon to his lips. Deftly she angled it past his sharp canines and into his mouth.

 

Closing his mouth he swallowed the warm broth, it was good, really good for something so plain looking. Opening his mouth she slipped the spoon past his lips. “You are pretty good at that most Humans hit teeth.”

 

She smiled, a pale pink creeping across her cheeks, “A few weeks ago there was a sick little Cathar boy brought to the base, he had a nasty infection and a fever. I got the hang of it, eventually.”

 

Aric smiled, “Did you make a mess?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded, “but I did get a lot better at it.”

 

She dipped the spoon back into the broth, “Let me know when you get full.”

 

“I will, it would be easier just to drink it though.”

 

The blush returned, “I hadn't thought of that. Here,” she set the spoon on the tray and brought the bowl up to his lips. Cupping the bottom of bowl and covering her hands with his he helped hold onto the bowl as he drank the contents. Tilting the bowl upward he emptied it.

 

“Thank you.” He let go of the bowl.

 

“You are most welcome.” She returned the bowl to the tray, turning she set the tray on a small table. Quietly stepping away she returned carrying a chair. Gently setting it on the floor by the medical bed she sat down.

 

“Sir?” Aric questioned.

 

“I am going to stay with you. I have been staying with you, it is the least I can do for you. Everyone can use a friend.” She reclined back in the chair, “Please let me know if you need anything. Try to get some sleep, nothing is going to harm you while I am here.” She looked over at him her green eyes shining as she smiled at him.

 

Nodding he closed his eyes, sinking into the pillow. She looked so sincere when she was talking to him, sighing he tried to relax his aching body. It was nice, the thought of having someone actually looking out for him. Turning his head towards her faint scent of lavender and dentabean, he allowed himself to actually fall asleep.

 

 

 

AN

 

Prompt for this one was Allies with a Smidge of First Impressions

 

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Good morning everyone.

 

Spoilers:

 

For Trooper Taris.

 

 

CHAPTER 11

 

 

 

Year 3645: Morning After previous prompt

 

TARIS

 

Groaning he licked his lips, shifting on the bed. The stale scent of dentabeans ghosted on the air. Blinking he cracked open his eye. The room was still dimly lit. Inhaling he tilted his head towards the faded scent, there, eyes closed and faced relaxed in sleep was the friendly medic. Smiling, he watched her chest slowly rise and fall, beneath a soft white blanket, tucked up against her neck.

 

Rubbing his eye he shifted on the mattress, the deep ache in his body was nearly gone. Slowly he stretched his stiff arms over his head, careful not to disturb the blanket or the Human sleeping by the bed. Taking in a deep breath he looked around the sleeping medical bay. The sterile scents of cleaners filled his sinus along with the faded scents of lavender and dentabeen. He smiled he didn't smell his X.O.'s damn stench, she never returned to the room.

 

That was fine with him, the longer she was gone the better.

 

Beside him a soft sigh sounded as the blanket rustled.

 

“Morning,” he whispered.

 

“Morning Sir,” she smiled as her eyes opened. Knuckle-rubbing the sleep from the corner of her eye she sat up in the chair. “Hadn't planned on sleeping so long. I do apologuise.”

 

“Nothing to be sorry for, must have been a rather quiet evening.”

 

She sat up stifling a yawn. “Yes, I suppose so.” She flashed him another quiet smile as she stood, quickly folding the blanket as she moved to study the diagnostic screen. “How are you feeling this morning?”

 

“Good actually, things don't hurt like they did. Still a bit stiff but I feel a lot better.” Aric grunted sitting up in the bed.

 

“Your mobility does appear to be a lot better.” She returned to the bed, “do try and take it easy though.”

 

“Yes, doc.” He flashed her a toothy grin.

 

Elara's hand went to her mouth as she stifled another yawn. “Are you hungry?” She glanced at her wall chrono, “They are serving breakfast in the mess.”

 

Aric's stomach growled. “Breakfast sounds great.”

 

“I will be right back then.” She pushed a stray hair behind her ear as she smoothed her coat. Giving him a small smile she stepped out of the room, her footsteps slowly fading as she walked away.

 

Relaxing back into the pillow he pulled his blanket up across his chest. He was feeling better, not quite up to going back out into the field but close. Scratching his head he ran his fingers through his mane. It was getting rather long, he would have to cut it when he was finally discharged from Elara's care. Looking around the room he studied the diagnostic panel it was so calm, the lines slowly beeping along. It looked nothing like the frantic mess it was earlier. He wondered what the different lines were for what all the different numbers meant. Maybe Elara would actually tell him, she seemed the type to actually explain things instead of ignoring his questions.

 

A quiet knock echoed on the door frame. He looked over, Elara was walking through the open doorway holding a rather heavy looking tray. He put his hands on the edge of the bed swinging his legs towards the edge of the mattress. “I can help.”

 

“Oh no you don't, stay in bed.” She walked to the now empty chair and set down the tray.

 

The warm steaming aroma of eggs and bacon drifted past his nose and his stomach growled. “Oh that smells good.”

 

Elara smiled handing him a small plate. The pile of eggs and bacon seemed so large, delightful steam drifted off the plate. “I had thought about bringing you something that would be easier on your system. I decided against it, you have not eaten a solid meal in nearly two weeks. Considering Cathar are mostly carnivorous, I decided you shouldn't have to many issues digesting that meal.”

 

“Oh it is appreciated,” He growled, wiping the drool off his mouth as he grabbed a thick crispy piece of bacon.

 

He heard laughter as the chair creaked next to him. Aric looked over at her, she had set the tray on the floor and sat in the chair hands curled around a steaming mug. “Are you not eating breakfast?” He asked around mouthfuls of bacon.

 

Elara shook her head, “I will later during my break.” She held up the steaming mug up, “Enjoying my morning cup of tea.”

 

Aric looked down at the plate in his lap. “Nonsense, you have given me a mountain of food. Here,” he held out the plate, “Take a piece, you have to be hungry.”

 

“Thanks,” she reached over picking up a small piece of bacon.

 

Aric reclined back into the bed when he heard the heavy echo of durasteel clad footfalls. Stiffening he clutched the plate. Inhaling he caught the unwanted scent as his X.O.'s silhouette crossed the threshold.

 

“Oh goody,” she muttered, “you are both here.” She walked towards the bed, crossing her arms as she stopped at the foot. “He needs to be released from this medical bay. I have been given new orders.” She turned her cold violet gaze to Elara, “Apparently General Garza has taken an interest in you, effective immediately you have been reassigned to the squad.”

 

Aric stared at his X.O., his breath caught in his throat. There was going to be another member in the squad? He looked at Elara, her green eyes were wide with surprise. “Why Sir, I'm honored I don't know what to say.”

 

“Say you are going to discharge his loafing hide and pack your things.” She turned on an armored foot and stalked out of the room.

 

“Sorry,” Aric whispered, “she has always been a bit… difficult to deal with. Congratulations and welcome to Havoc.” He reached out his hand, only to smile and retract it, when he saw her trying to free up a hand. “I'll shake your hand after you eat. I can help you pack.”

 

“Oh yes, I do need to pack. This is awfully unexpected. I will need to file the appropriate forms and notify my superiors.” She blinked looking through Aric.

 

“I don't think she is in the mood to wait. Things tend to operate on her timetable.” Aric set down his still steaming plate of food. “I will get my things.”

 

“Oh yes, wait what? No. No, you are to stay here and eat, you have not been discharged yet.” Elara shook her head as she stood up setting her bacon slice and mug on the chair. “I will notify personnel and begin filing the appropriate paper work. You are to remain in this bed, when everything is in order I shall determine if you are fit to be released. There is no reason why you have to be rushed out of here. It is acceptable to keep you here, if you are not fit to return to active duty.”

 

She shook her head as she moved out of the room, as she rounded the door she removed a datapad from her pocket.

 

Aric watched her leave. Slowly biting a piece of bacon. A by-the-book medic on the same ship as his break-every-rule X.O. Either Garza had completely lost her mind or bringing the medic along was her subtle way to try and police his Commanding Officer.

 

It crumbled in his mouth, as he slowly chewed. She was by-the-book, worrying about paperwork and concerned about his health. She was actually kind. He stopped chewing, hand hovering over the plate. She was nice and by-the-book, he realized Elara probably would not be swayed to join in on the Lieutenant's inappropriate behavior and schemes. The medic had actually offered to help him. She had served under questionable officers and had defected as a result.

 

Bacon crunched between his teeth as he took another bite; she had defected. She had defected and now she was here and part of this crew. Things would probably be awkward and strained for awhile, especially when his X.O. learned the type of woman their new crew member was. He wondered if Elara would ever know the kind of woman she was now serving under, probably not, Aric sighed. His damn Commanding Officer would probably be on her best behavior, at least when the new medic was around.

 

It was going to be an adjustment, for everyone. Though things might start operating like a normal squad. He stabbed a huge mouthful of egg. To have a somewhat normal squad after all these months, to actually have someone he could talk to. For the first time in a long time he was not terrified to report to duty.

 

 

 

 

AN

Prompt was Morning After, and honestly there was a second one, that for the life of me I can no longer remember. That is what I get for not writing it down. :o

 

Edited by Kitar
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Good morning everyone, here is the next update.

 

Spoilers:

Spoilers only noticeable if you have romanced Elara

 

 

CHAPTER 12

 

 

 

Year 3645 Timeline immediately following previous chapter

 

TARIS ONBOARD THE THUNDERCLAP

 

“So the ten credit tour. This is the common area, over there is the conference room,” Aric gestured to the left. “Here is the crew barracks,” he pointed ahead, “Over there is the galley fresher and cargo bay. Medical bay is over there,” he gestured with his chin.

 

He picked up her duffle and started towards the crew’s quarters.

 

He felt a hand on his arm, turning to look at her his brow bunched in confusion. “What?”

 

“You really shouldn’t. I can handle my own bags.” The newly minted member of Havoc reached out trying to reclaim her bag.

 

“No,” he shook his head, “it is alright, Makes me feel useful. I have spent way to much time in a medical bed lately.”

 

“I do not want you over doing it, Sir.”

 

“I won’t, a bag will not kill me. This way.” Aric lead the way inside the crew’s quarters. “So where would you like to sleep?”

 

She came to a stop next to him green eyes examining the room. “Well I do prefer a bottom bunk.”

 

“All of the bottom ones are open. Pick one.”

 

Her eyes latched onto the bunk beneath his. Walking towards it, she gestured to the bed, “I think I like this one.”

 

“Alright,” he followed her over, setting the duffle on the mattress. “I do sleep in the one above you, if that bothers you, I can move.”

 

“Nonsense. No reason for you to move.” She looked away from him, head slowly turning as she took in the rest of the quarters. He followed her gaze, curious what she was looking at. Her green eyes snapped back to his face.

 

“Sure there is a reason for him to move,” their X.O.’s voice slithered into the room, his fur shuddered unseen under his fatigues. “He already has a few of his things in my quarters, might as well move everything in there. Then you will have the crew’s quarters to yourself. It will spare you from having to listen to his snoring.”

 

The taunting tone of her voice made his skin flinch. Swallowing hard he looked from Elara to his XO she was standing there, hands on her hips, intently staring at him. Her violet eyes bored into him as she crossed her arms and leaned against the durasteel door frame, clinging there like an unwanted fungus.

 

“You have been sleeping in her quarters?” Elara questioned.

 

Aric looked at her shaking his head, “No I haven’t.”

 

Elara’s stared at him utterly confused. “You haven’t?”

 

“No, I, haven’t I... I, had to bunk in there for a couple days, SeeToo got carried away with the Alderaanian nectar and the room was not habitable for a couple days. I slept on the floor.”

 

“Ohh,” Elara’s green gaze bounced off Aric and moved to their XO, “So you do not want to move in there?”

 

“No,” Aric could not repress the shudder that ran though him, nor keep the tremor out of his voice.

 

“Then it will not be necessary to file a Form 3578K.”

 

“A what?” Their XO stared at Elara, “you need to file a form for that?”

 

“Yes Sir, a Form 3578K stating your intent to enter a romantic relationship. If you do not intend to file Form 3578K informing command of your intent to start a relationship of that nature, there is no reason at all for him to leave. I can handle snoring. It is nothing compared to the noise you hear in the swamps of Taris, Sir.”

 

Their XO continued to stare at him, his mind raced, what was she up to now, he had never step foot inside her personal quarter’s on this ship.

 

Her arms uncrossed as her body oozed off the wall, “Guess we will see in the morning if you are right.” Her violet eyes slithered over him one last time before she turned and slinked out of the room.

 

Aric exhaled a huge sigh as she left. Beside him Elara spoke, her voice quiet. “You do not mind me sleeping in the bunk beneath you do you?”

 

He shook his head no, “I don’t.”

 

“I have another question for you since we will be sharing these quarters.”

 

He turned to look at her, she was staring into the common area of the ship, eyes intently locked onto something probably their XO. “What is it?”

 

“Would you take issue with locking the door at night, it does not have to be permanently. Just until I get used to sleeping here. At the base it protocol to lock them at night due to the constant threat of the rakghouls.”

 

Aric’s eyes widened as he stared at her. She continued to gaze into the common room, he could almost see her calculating. For a split second he hesitated before answering. “It’s alright with me, you never know what monsters are out there. Waiting.”

 

“My thoughts exactly Sir,” her blonde head turned to regard him, “so,” she smiled, “now that I have secured my bunk could you give me a more in depth tour of the Medical Bay?”

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

THUNDERCLAP

 

Taking a tentative sip off his steaming caf cup Aric reclined back in the chair. He watched the steam drift upward in lazy wisps. Things were feeling pretty good for once. They had fallen into a regular pattern; P.T., weapon drills, report filing and assisting where ever they were needed. Mostly on Coruscant, cleaning up areas of the lower levels of the city that were still devastated all these years after the sacking.

 

Usually he and Elara were left to deal with the smaller assignments. Their XO would disappear, probably to conduct business with the Black Sun, the Exchange or dirty Senators, but thankfully he was no longer present for her corrupt, closed door, dealings.

 

Aric had relished in the fact he was no longer privy to those meetings. In fact his XO seemed to have forgotten about him entirely. Much to Aric’s relief his damn XO had barely looked at him the entire time Elara had been in the squad; there hadn’t been a single inappropriate look, gesture or touch. She never spoke to him, having barely uttered a handful of sentences to him since their new medic’s appointment to Havoc.

 

Perhaps the rigid medic had been moved into the squad to monitor their XO’s actions and to keep her in line, after all. He took another sip, even if she hadn’t she had proved to be a great addition to the squad. For that he had considered kissing the new medic. It would probably require filling out some forms, but it would be worth it, he had started sleeping through the night for the first time in months. For the most part, Aric had been able to shove the things that had transpired on the ship to the back of his mind. They only surfaced in his nightmares.

 

Now they were headed to Nar Shaddaa to meet up with an agent, Aric didn’t know much about him. He had heard the General tell his XO told to not breathe a word of the defections. He shook his head taking another sip, it seemed so damn counter productive to keep an ally in the dark, then again, telling them the entire truth could compromise the mission. He knew their XO would not have any issue with following those orders. Aric sighed, if push came to shove and it became vital to their goal of tracking the former members down, then he would fill in the agent himself.

 

Taking another sip off his mug, he allowed himself to smile. It was going to feel good, finally getting to sink his claws into one of those damn traitors. It would not bring back his rank or old position but it was going to feel good. It had been so long since they had any viable leads.

 

Quiet footsteps shuffled into the galley, glancing up he watched Elara’s sleepy form as she made her way to the table. Smothering a grin he pushed a second steaming cup across the table and towards her seat.

 

“Thank you,” she mumbled as she pushed an errant blonde lock out of her face.

 

“Your welcome,” he grunted around another swallow of steaming caf. “Just finished brewing.”

 

She nodded as her fingers wrapped around the cup, green eyes closing as she gently blew. “Have you already eaten?” she asked as she took a tentative sip.

 

“Not yet, just finished my morning round of PT, was going to head to the ‘fresher soon.”

 

She looked up from her cup, it loitered by her partially opened lips. “Already did your training this morning?”

 

He nodded taking another sip off his cup.

 

“How long have you been awake?”

 

“Awhile,” he muttered averting his eyes.

 

“Hrmmm,” she chastised. He looked back at her, her green eyes were latched onto him, her lips downturned in a frown. “That is the third night in a row.”

 

Aric nodded, “It is. We all have been through things we would rather forget. It is nothing.”

 

Elara continued to frown staring at him. “If they continue to persist or get worse, I want you to tell me.”

 

“I will.” he sighed as he looked away from her.

 

“Sergeant Jorgan I am serious.”

 

Aric flinched, “I promise I will,” he returned his green-gold gold gaze to her green one. “Don’t see the point in making a fuss, they are just nightmares.” He dropped his eyes studying the steaming black liquid. “But I will tell you.”

 

“Good,” her tone warmed. “So have you seen the Lieutenant?”

 

Aric shook his head, “Not this morning no. Haven’t seen her since last night, I think I hear her on the bridge. Should be arriving on Nar Shaddaa in roughly four hours.” Finishing off his cup, he stood; moving towards the carafe, “Are you hungry?”

 

“Yes, anything good?”

 

Aric snorted, “I don’t think any of the ration bars are good, but I found some chocolate ones hiding in the back.”

 

“Really? I’ll take one.” Aric nodding reaching for a bar as he refilled his cup. Heading back to the table he handed her silver wrapped square.

 

“Thank you, so have you spoken to her?” Elara asked as she accepted the bar.

 

Aric shook his head, staring into his cup.

 

“I will take her some caf and a bar.”

 

Aric grunted, “I will be running inventory, will take the chance to put in a requisition order for more ordinances.” Turning on his foot he quickly left the galley.

 

As he left he heard Elara sigh and the sound of liquid being poured into a cup. He was not up to making small talk with that woman, not yet. Elara could be the go between for a while longer.

 

 

 

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In an effort to completely distract myself from the tomatos and tomatillos that need to be canned that are sitting on my kitchen counter and stovetop, and the jars that need to be washed and sterilized... I decided to post another update! I can do that since most of this lovely story is already written :)

 

This one is a cross post, it was posted quite sometime ago in the AU Weekly thread back in 2013. You can read it over there or clicky on the spoiler below, I do not think there has been any changes.

 

Put in the greater story it is

 

CHAPTER 13

 

 

 

 

Timeline: Year 3643

 

NAR SHADDAA

 

Slowly he headed to the entrance of the cantina, meandering past and around the tightly packed patrons. Feeling warm and slightly disorientated from drinking too much whisky too quickly, he needed some air. Pausing to let a waitress weave past carrying a drink-laden tray, Aric reached into his front pocket and retrieved a cigarra. Smiling he brought the dark brown cigarra to his nose and inhaled, his senses filled with spice and flowers floating on the thick musty backs of dried leaves, grinning he extended a razor sharp claw and sliced the end off.

 

Resuming his walk to the entrance he snagged a three-finger whisky glass off a passing serving droid’s tray. Absently he dropped a credit stick on the tray and headed out of the establishment. Inhaling the moon’s night air he crinkled his nose. It was not exactly refreshing but for Nar Shaddaa it was passable. Taking a sip off the rocks glass he stared at cityscape below him.

 

So far it had been a pretty enjoyable day. He had procured some really nice, a low throaty chuckle escaped his lips as he took another drink, and highly illegal modifications for his cannon and a case of twenty-five year aged Corellian whisky for a steal. Jonas had treated them to an evening; dinner, then the casinos and on to a rather interesting cantina crawl. The best part, he sighed taking another drink, he was alone, Jonas was completely entertaining the Lieutenant and Dorne had actually loosened up and was inside chatting up … someone. He could not remember who the someone was, Aric laughed, well he had looked nice enough.

 

The next thing he knew a large something shoved him from behind and tumbled on top of him as he failed, miserably, to maintain his footing. He heard his rocks glass shatter on the ground nearby, he had managed to retain his grip on his cigarra though. Landing on his backside he huffed, the wind knocked out of him. Growling he looked up at the tackler and paused, his angry retort forgotten.

 

The something was a Human, a woman. A giggling woman dressed in semi formal clothing, black slacks and a blood red shirt, the split sleeves allowed glimpses of her pale skin to peek through. The giggling mound on top of him shifted more properly into his lap sliding her other leg over him. She looked up at him and another round of giggles escaped her lips. Her face was obscured by a mane of rich auburn hair, “Sorry,” the giggles resumed. Before he could stop it his hand reached up and ran his clawed fingertips through her hair, it was so soft. He gently pushed it back off her face and down her back.

 

He was greeted with the greenest brightest eyes he had ever seen. He stared looking at her, dropping his forgotten cigarra. He brought his other hand up to brush the remainder of her hair away from her face. She leaned in looking; she smiled. “Your eyes they are so beautiful, all green and gold, like crystals.”

 

His eyes were locked onto her face, her smooth porcelain skin slightly flushed, full grinning lips painted the same blood red hue as her shirt. As he stared he kept thinking how kissable those lips looked. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. Her eyes widened, she giggled again as she leaned into him, those lips aggressively kissing his. Groaning he closed his eyes and returned her kiss gently biting her. She tasted of rich wine, thick with berries laced soft tannins.

 

He was rewarded with more giggles and she leaned into him harder, wrapping her arms around his body, one slid around his back, a hand caressed the side of his neck. Growling he slid his right arm down her side resting it against the small of her back, pushing her against him. This night could not get any better; he loved redheads.

 

An annoyed grunt filtered through his ears. She stopped kissing him and looked over her shoulder. Grinning she looked at the large man that was standing behind them. “Can I keep him?” she beamed. “He’s so soft.” Her hand ran down Aric's neck and slipped into his shirt, causing him to gasp in surprise. “See,” she smiled.

 

“I’m sure he is,” the large Human grumbled.

 

Aric stared at him, large was being unfair, the man was a walking mountain of muscle and he looked less than pleased.

 

She shifted on Aric's lap, causing him to growl. She giggled and returned her attention to him. Faster than he could track she recaptured his mouth, biting his lower lip before deeply kissing him, her tongue running over his fangs. His body trembled under her. It felt like everywhere her body was touching his was sparking, a penetrating warmth rolled off her body, her fingers left warm trails across his fur as she caressed him.

 

A loud throat was cleared; cracking open an eye Aric saw the moving Mountain had stepped closer. “I want to stay with him,” she slurred her words slightly. “He likes me,” she grinned back over her shoulder at the Mountain. The man leveled a glare at him, eyes narrowed. Very subtly the Mountain tapped his chest and then motioned to Aric. Glancing down Aric realized his dog tags had fallen out; quickly he palmed them, slipping the chain under his shirt.

 

“Everyone likes you m’ Lord,” the Mountain stared down at him, his brown eyes burning.

 

Wait... what? Aric stared at her, his left hand slipping down to her waist. It came to rest on something cool and metallic to the touch. Swallowing he glanced at his hand, it was resting on a saber hilt. Aric looked back to the Mountain who was watching him with a crooked smirk on his face.

 

“No,” she pouted, “not everyone, after a night of celebrating I want some fun.”

 

“Who wouldn’t m’ Lord?” the Mountain smiled.

 

Her pout deepened, “That emotionally suppressed captain who lives on my bridge, that’s who. I give up on him, he’s a lost cause.”

 

The Mountain chuckled, a low deep rumble, “It’s his loss, I can be a lot of fun m’ Lord.”

 

“Yeah?” she perked up smiling. “I like fun,” she giggled.

 

“Yeah,” he smiled down at her.

 

“But I want him,” she pouted, “he’s soft and nice.”

 

She turned her attention back to Aric, smiling she ran her fingers over his head, “you’re so soft.” Giggling she kissed him again, groaning he leaned into her, his whisky addled brain was just not connecting the pieces and she smelled so nice. His hand moved around the hilt to grab her waist pulling her closer. He felt her try to force him to the ground, to try to turn them over and then he was cold. Looking to his right he saw her lying on her side giggling uncontrollably.

 

The large Mountain seized his opportunity and scooped her up in his arms, “M’ Lord I do think it’s time to go.”

 

She smiled eyes closed. “Say it again Pierce.”

 

“My Lord,” he rumbled.

 

She giggled. “I love that and soon it will be Darth.”

 

“Yes,” the Mountain rumbled, “very soon.”

 

Sighing she giggled again, “The Lord and the Lieutenant off to have fun.”

 

He stared up at her securely held in the Mountain’s arms, his eyes locked on the saber hilt on her belt. He slowly took them in realizing for the first time they both had Imperial accents. He finally noticed the Mountain’s attire; black suit, black shirt, his black boots were military issue, strapped to his hip was a rather large blaster black with the Imperial crest on the grip. The man’s brown eyes stared down at Aric, warning him. Slowly the realization dawned on Aric that her protective mountain was in full control of his senses, the lieutenant was her guard. Motionless he sat there and watched them move away.

 

She looked back at him, peaking over the Mountain’s shoulder, waving and blowing him a kiss goodbye. She noticed the broken glass on the ground. “Oh... oh, Pierce I broke his drink. I need to fix it.”

 

“Already on it m’ Lord.” He shifted the inebriated Sith into one arm, easily holding her while he dug a credit stick out of his pocket. Glaring at him Pierce finally bent over offering Aric the stick. Cautiously Aric reached out accepting it, mumbling a “thank you.”

 

“I want another bottle,” she giggled. The Mountain looked down at her smiling, “I thought you wanted fun m’ Lord.” He wrapped his other arm around her and spun them a couple easy rotations as he walked away towards the taxi pad. Her happy giggle echoed off the buildings.

 

“Again,” she squealed. The Mountain's low rumbling laugh reached his ears as Aric watched them spin again.

“Oh! I never got his name, take me back I have to ask.”

 

A low laugh echoed off the buildings, “M’ Lord I will be happy to tell you who that was if you remember any of this in the morning.”

 

“You promise…” her voice was growing faint. “Of course m’ Lord.” Her answering giggle faded eaten by the distance.

 

Shaking he looked down at the credit stick in his hand, it was black boldly emblazoned with the Imperial crest. Blinking he looked down at the duracrete sidewalk. Next to him his cigarra sat undamaged. Violently expelling a breath he did not realize he was holding, Aric brought it to his lips. He fumbled in his shirt looking for his lighter. Shaking hands lit the cigarra; slowly he puffed the flame to life before extinguishing the lighter. His body was still vibrating where she had touched him. Glancing at the taxi pad he watched the Mountain put his drunken charge into the vehicle and drive off into the moon’s atmosphere. He stared after the diminishing dot until it disappeared; he had never learned her name.

 

 

 

AN

I do believe the prompt for this one was Night of the living prompt: I love this bar. Years ago, you had one prompt a week, if you missed it you were otta luck. That if I remember correctly is why Night of the Living Prompt came about, the prompts were resurrected!

 

 

Now to actually get back to canning...oh look the horse is up by the gate, I think she needs an apple. She looks hungry.

Edited by Kitar
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Good Morning, the next chapter is also another cross post from the AU thread. It is also an older bit, written in response to comment made by Stirges.

 

CHAPTER 14

 

 

 

 

THUNDERCLAP

 

Year 3643, morning after. *I accidentally inverted the four and the three in the last post, I fixed it. Sorry about that, I do that sometimes.

THUNDERCLAP

 

The screeching chiming ripped him out of his slumber, cursing he shot up out of bed, slamming his head into the bunk above him. Cursing Aric rubbed his forehead as he fell back into his pillows. Uggg he ran his hands over his face blocking the blinding light filling the room. The persistent chiming echoed off the walls, building, competing with the deep pounding that filled the base of his skull.

 

Growling he fumbled on the ground next to his bunk, grabbing the first sold heavy object his fingers found. Gritting his teeth he concentrated on the location of the damnable chiming and hefted the object in his hand. It was a boot, felt like a boot, nice heavy boot. With as much force as he could muster he flung the boot at the chiming.

 

He was rewarded with a satisfying thunk, a metallic clatter and a dull thump. Then the chiming worsened, shrill peals of discord reverberated off the walls. Groaning he groped for another projectile. His claws grabbed another large object; his boot’s mate. He brought the other boot up and concentrated on the sounds source. This would be so much easier if he could actually see but it was to bright, his other hand was still firmly clamped over his eyes.

 

The boot flew from his hand, he heard an extremely satisfying crunch as the boot impacted with the shrieking's source. Pieces of metal fell clinking as the boot rolled across the floor.

 

Ahh blessed silence. Slowly he parted his fingers, cracking his eye to peer out. Bright yellow light assaulted him. “Ow,” he growled as he clenched his eye shut firmly clamping his fingers across his eyes again.

 

“Wonder what the chances are I can find something to break the light panel with,” he grumbled. Searching along the floor his fingers rested on something cool and metallic. Running his hand over the item it felt like a piece of armor... “That 'ill work,” Aric muttered. He picked it up and launched it at the panel near the door. A crack echoed throughout the room when it impacted, the lights faded. A rolling thud echoed through the common area of the ship as the armor piece came to rest.

 

Much better, he thought as he cracked open his eye. The room was engulfed in inky blackness, barely illuminated by the floorboard lighting. Slowly he rolled his feet off the bed and onto the floor, his head protested the movement, spinning, a complaint seconded by his stomach as it lurched and rolled sending acid up his throat.

 

One hand gripped his head the other clung to the overhead bunks frame to attempt to steady his world. He tried to swallow, to rid his mouth of the vile taste in his throat, but his tongue was dry and seemed determined to stick to the roof of his mouth.

 

Gritting his teeth he let go of the bunk, he was not greeted with any new protests. Slowly he brought his hand away from his head, still seemed to be okay. Bracing himself on the bed he slowly stood, the world tipped and wavered a bit but seemed content to remain solid. Moving toward the doorway he slammed his right foot at full strength into the side of a very heavy very inflexible wooden crate.

 

Pain flashed through his foot, he heard and felt the sharp CRACK as a toe-claw cracked and broke. Stumbling he fell over the crate landing on his hands. “Son of a Shutta,” he muttered as he looked at the box. It was a case of whisky. What is that doing in here?

 

His foot started to throb, staring at his foot he growled, “damn it,” blood was starting to seep through the crack on the claw on his big toe. The damn thing ran the length of his claw disappearing into his toe, the bottom third of his claw snapped off. “Fracking son of a …” he hissed inhaling. Gritting his teeth he extended his claws. Pain shot through his toe. Peering at his broken claw he scowled, the crack stopped just inside where his claws rested when retracted. “That's going to be fun while it heals,” he muttered.

 

Pushing himself to his feet he staggered against the doorframe, waiting for the world to stop spinning. The pounding in his head grew; it pulsed in tempo to the pain in his foot. “Lovely,” he muttered, “just lovely.” Growling he limped out of the room and slowly headed toward the galley.

 

As he neared the room, he heard movement inside, and the smell of brewing caf reached him. “Well that's a plus,” he muttered. Dorne was already up. Limping into the dimly lit room he headed to the table.

 

Easing himself into a chair he watched her. Clad in soft pink fuzzy sleep clothes Dorne's back was to him while she searched the cabinets. Judging from her slow jerky movements her morning was not a very pleasant one either. She pulled another cup from the cabinet and poured two cups of caf. Bleary eyed she sat down next to him offering him a steaming cup.

 

“Thanks,” he took a tentative sip. She nodded to him her bloodshot green eyes focused on her cup. Her blonde hair was disheveled and he was surprised at its length, it actually reached the small of her back once liberated from her bun.

 

“Sir,” she muttered into her cup, “the Lieutenant is not on the ship, I think she stayed with Jonas.”

 

He grunted in response.

 

The caf was good. She looked miserable and he mirrored her discomfort, each cringing as they drank, their heads propped up on their arms. As he drained the cup she stood holding her hand out. He placed his empty cup in her hand. She quickly refilled them and returned to the table.

 

His head started to feel a little better as he worked on his second cup. He was surprised when Dorne knocked back the second cup in short order. She looked at him, “How bad is your hangover Sir?”

 

He gave her a tired smile, “You look like how I feel so, pretty terrible.”

 

“That bad Sergeant?”

 

“Dorne,” he sighed, “when you are this hung-over who cares about rank?” He ran his fingers over his throbbing head.

 

She smiled at him. “Then I will get some for you too.”

 

“Get me some what?” he was curious.

 

“I have a small cocktail that helps with hangovers.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Really? When have you been hung-over?”

 

She frowned at him, “When I was in the Academy we used to celebrate, especially after difficult quarters and exams. We came up with the cocktail, actually.” She smiled her eyes distant lost in the memory. Blinking she looked at him, “Jorgan I will be right back.” As she headed out of the galley, her slippers shuffling, she stopped staring at the floor.

 

“Blood! Are you injured?” She followed the bright crimson drops to his chair. “What happened.”

 

He scowled, “I found my case of whisky, with my foot. Broke my claw.”

 

She knelt next to him gently picking up his foot moving it away from the small pool of blood that had accumulated. Bending over his dripping toe she made a surprised noise in her throat, “you have four toes?”

 

“Of course I have four toes,” he grumbled scowling at the back of her head.

 

She looked back at him eyes wide, “I thought you …” she trailed off muttering under her breath. Turning her attention back to his foot her finger cautiously touched his toe. He jumped from the pain pulling his lips back from his teeth and growling at her.

 

“I'll be right back,” she gently placed his foot on the floor. She moved out of the room with a bit more urgency, her shuffling slippers almost left the floor as she walked.

 

Scowling he closed his eyes and drank his caf, waiting for her to return.

 

When she returned her arms were laden down with … stuff. She set a scanner on the table, followed by kolto strips, jars of something, stims, a datapad whose blinking screen was playing back information and two small pieces of metal. She organized the stims into two neat identical rows.

 

“Your hangover cure?” He gestured to the small vials, she nodded as she pushed his sleeve up and then hers. He watched her pick up a small puff of white, holding it against a small jar, inverting it. She grabbed his arm with her free hand, separating the fur with her thumb and forefinger. After wiping his uncovered skin with the ball she began to depress the small vials against his arm until his three were consumed. The relief was almost instantaneous. The pounding in his head lessened, the nausea in his stomach disappeared, he actually felt moisture in his mouth.

 

She smiled at him. “Feeling better,” she asked as she disinfected her skin and depressed the first stim into her arm.

 

“Yeah much better, thank you.”

 

“Do you want to know what they are?”

 

“I would love to but not right now,” he grimaced as his foot twitched, he felt his toe spasm.

 

“Right, let me see to that foot.” She moved a chair closer to him as she bent over to examine the datapad. “Can you extend your claws and put your foot on the chair?” He grunted but complied. She skimmed the information on the pad picking up the scanner. The scanner beeped and whined causing her to crinkle her nose. “Well,” she muttered, “aside from a cracked claw you have a broken toe.”

 

“Wonderful,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling. “Just wonderful. What a lovely morning this has been. Just do your thing Doc.”

 

She knelt next to him obscuring the view of his foot, it was just as well, he didn't really want to watch, he just wanted the throbbing pain to go away.

 

“So how was your night?” He asked her.

 

“Oh, it was enjoyable I really could of done without the fourth cantina though.”

 

“Fourth?” He stared at the back of her head, “I only remember three.”

 

“Yes,” she nodded, grabbing a bottle from the table, he smelled saline as she touched his claw causing him to jerk. “Jonas took us to four but I can't recall the names of the last two. Apparently I made a friend last night, I have a strange holo number in my slacks. I think you did too, you left the cantina for a while, when you returned you had a funny look on your face but you kept smiling.”

 

The slim metal rods disappeared into her hands; he felt cool metal touch his toe. “Easy,” she murmured as she referred to the datapad beside her. Tightness wrapped around his toe and foot. Growling he frowned at the back of her head. “There all finished, you should be able to take it off in a couple weeks considering how fast you guys heal. Good thing we are on shore leave you need to keep your weight off of it. Just don't get it wet if possible.” She stood gathering the medical materials off the desk.

 

“Then I claim the 'fresher first,” he grumbled. He stood testing out his foot. It felt better, the claw no longer radiated pain, it was just a dull ache. Limping back to the crews quarters growled at the whisky crate as he made his way into the refresher, turned on the shower and started to strip.

 

He peeled off his dirty dress shirt dropping it on the refresher floor. Leaning against the wall he managed to negotiate removing his slacks over the temporary splint. As he pulled his pants off his other leg something black fell onto the floor. Bending over he retrieved it, he turned the sleek black stick over and his stomach dropped. It was an Imperial credit stick, what the hell was he doing with an Imperial credit stick?

 

Dorne stuck her head into the crew's quarters, “Are you going to need any assistance Jorgan?”

 

He slammed the credit stick against his leg covering it with his palm. “I think I can handle it.”

 

“Alright I’ll check on you in about ten, see if you are okay.”

 

“Sounds good, you said I made a friend at the fourth cantina Dorne?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you by any chance get a look at them? Or remember what cantina we were in?”

 

“Nope and nope. You wandered back in by yourself smoking a cigara. You didn't talk the rest of the evening just stared into space drinking whisky and smoking until we returned to the ship. You would have to ask Jonas to get the names. Why?”

 

“Oh,” he peaked at the stick, “Never have liked gaps in my memory that entire part of the evening is missing. Don't happen to have a cure for blackouts do you?” He asked. He was actually hopeful she did, he wanted to know how in the hell he ended up with this credit stick.

 

“Afraid I don't Jorgan.”

 

“Hey Dorne.”

 

“Yes?” her voice echoed back to him.

 

“If anyone ever again suggests going out anywhere with Jonas you have my permission to shoot them. I can't handle his idea of a good time.”

 

“If anyone ever suggest going out with him again, I will suddenly be down three field reports and have a medical paper I need to work on.”

 

Her voice faded as she walked away. He shoved the credit stick back into his pocket moving his pants with his foot. He stared at his pants waiting for them to bite him. Where in the hell had Jonas taken them and how did he get that fraking stick, better yet how was he going to get rid of it.

 

 

 

 

The prompt for this one was NotLP: Health.

 

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Good Morning everyone!

I survived the birthday celebrations and I managed to convince my Hubby to not put the appropriate number of candles on the cake... that would have caused the Tri-County Fire Department to show up at the house ;)

I also have gotten over 1k views. Thanks for reading, I hope everyone is enjoying the story.

This week is a new one.

 

Spoilers none that I know of but it takes place right after

the infamous Quinncinident in the SW class story

 

 

CHAPTER 15

 

 

Year 3641

 

KORRIBAN

 

Taking a deep breath she squared her shoulders and raised her head. Before her stood the archaic entrance to the once forgotten tomb, carved centuries before into the red rock. Next to her Pierce shifted his stance, questioning. Looking up to her massive lieutenant she nodded. His helmeted visage gave her a brisk nod, the bright Korriban sun shinning off the dark mirrored faceplate as he moved off to stand guard against the tomb's entrance.

 

Taking another deep breath she stepped into the tomb, her feet slowly treading where breath-stealing Force fueled running had carried her years earlier. She reached out feeling through the Force, the sprawling tomb was empty save for herself and her faithful soldier, but he could not accompany her today, this was a pilgrimage that only she could complete.

 

The cadence of her silent footfall her only companion, she proceeded deeper into the tomb, following the subtle echo of the jagged wound in the Force that had once guided her frantic steps. The deathly silence of the tomb roared, harkening memories of the feral cries of the crypts beasts that had once resided here. Thick dust swirled around her feet, small beings chittered and withdrew hiding themselves in the cracks. The air grew damp; the only lighting, the ancient glowing scones constructed centuries ago by red skinned hands.

 

The echo faded, before her lay the smooth worn stone floor, its thick layer of dust undisturbed. In her mind's eye she only saw the large pool of blood and his still form. Cautiously she stepped closer, controlling her fear with savage determination. Her fear that somehow she would be forced back to that fateful day, that she would have to once again relive it, unable to prevent its horrible outcome, that she would fail once again.

 

She knelt at the edge of the long vanished blood pool, her robes sending tiny dust dervishes into the air as her fingers traced along the ancient stone. She had failed and she had come to beg forgiveness, knowing that her words would be lost, only the crypt walls would hear them. Sinking heavily against her armored boots, her shoulders slumped. Her mouth soundless, formed words, unable to untangle the emotional turmoil within her to give voice to the apology to her departed spouse.

 

Eyes clenched shut, her head sunk chin almost touching her chest as her fingers lay upon the ancient stone where years before he had spoken his last words to her. Again she tried to speak, but her voice refused to come. Silent she knelt, forcing her emotions under control. She could do this, she had to for him, he deserved nothing less.

 

Upon the stagnant air she smelled a burst of spice. Her mind stilled as her muscles coiled. Again the slight scent of spice reached her, it smelled of tiingilar warm but a bit heavy handed on the saffron. In another life it would of meant he had cooked for them, the strong aroma of his spicy cuisine arriving moments before he came into view. But that was a life now lost, she clenched her eyes tighter, it was a trick of her memory.

 

A warm brush of air moved past her face. A voice long quiet spoke. “Oya'karir olar, dushne.” She clenched her eyes tighter. “Tion gar olar, Cyar’ika?” The strong rumble of his voice filled the chamber.

 

Her voice wavered but it materialized, “To apologise.”

 

“Tion'jor, n'linibar.”

 

“I failed you and our son, I should of done more.”

 

She felt the air move next to her, a large presence filled the space next to her. “Nyac ni Cyar’ika, you are so very strong, you have done well raising our son.” His deep chuckle tickled her ear, “was amusing watching you teach the Resol'nare. I am proud of you ni riduur.”

 

Forcing her eyes to open, she blinked trying to clear her vision. Slowly she looked to his voice, expecting to see nothing; just a cruel figment of her imagination. Her blurry eyes locked onto his smiling face. He was dressed in his favorite robes, his long hair unfettered, just as he had been dressed when she had laid him upon his pyre.

 

“How,” she whispered, “how are you here...” the horrible thought that her sun loving Mando might be permanently tethered to this cold damp place ran through her.

 

“Nyac,” he shook his head, “Ni suum ca'nara.” He looked up past her briefly before returning his gaze to her. “We are not those kind of Dar’jeti,” he smiled. “I have been practicing, to see you again.”

 

Hand shaking she reached for his face, his ethereal blue glowing form seemed to solidify before her. His skin's colour deepened into the golden tan he possessed in life, his blond locks shifted over his shoulder as he moved, settling against his black robes. Cautiously she brushed his hair away from his temple, her thumb caressing a pointed ivory horn before running down the side of his tattoo-less face. His eyes glittered, the golden orbs offset by their fiery limbal rings.

 

“It's been hard,” she whispered, her fingers entwining in his hair.

 

“Things worth doing always are.” He reached out, his rough calloused fingers sliding along her cheeks as his thumbs wiped away the moisture on her lashes.

 

Letting herself relax, she leaned into his long lost caress. “Ni Cyar'ika, you hold no blame in what happened. It was intended, blade poisoned. Blame yourself no longer,” he gently tilted her head up. “You avenged me before my eyes, aruetii is unmourned, forgotten, nothing. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, I will be with you always, watching and waiting for you.”

 

“Rejorhaa'ir cuun ad, net'ra gemas, di'kutla.” He shook his head in disapproval.

 

She couldn't help it she smiled; she had just argued with Kiernan about his insistence to dye his blond locks black.

 

He winked smiling. “He is strong, he will do well in his Trials. Wise to not bring him here, unsafe, vipers everywhere until he is dead.”

 

He leaned in closer, his hair brushing against her hand. “Take him hunting, celebrate, don't return here on this day to mourn. Nothing here but dust and angry memories.” His lips brushed against hers; completing the kiss he had started fourteen years ago. Fiercely she returned his kiss, willing the moment to last. Her entangled fingers slowly formed into a clenched fist as his form disappeared beneath her touch.

 

Her voice broke, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

 

Slowly she stood, gathering her wits around her. Glancing around the still chamber she started the journey to the entrance, the damp stagnant air suddenly oppressive. Quickly she moved through deserted corridors, eager to be back in the bright Korriban sun. She shook her head in amazement as she clutched her fist to her lips; somehow he had always been a step ahead of her. Even now he managed to surprise her; he always surprised her. She needed to learn how he had managed it, to appear after all this time, the thought of actually having their son see his father who had been murdered months before he was born lightened her step, speeding her along.

 

 

 

AN

 

 

Prompt - it was anniversaries

 

Mando'a in order of appearance: ('cause I'm nice like that)

Oya'karir olar, dushne. - hunting here, the worst.

Tion gar olar, Cyar’ika? - Why are you here beloved?

Tion'jor, n'linibar - why? No need.

Nyac ni Cyar’ika - no my beloved

Resol'nare - The six tenets of Mandalorian culture

ni riduur - my wife

Nyac – no

Ni suum ca'nara – I am at peace

Dar’jeti – Sith

aruetii – outsider

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum – I love you forever

rejorhaa'ir cuun ad, net'ra gemas, di'kutla. - Tell our child, black hair, idiotic.

 

And just in case anyone wanted to know what the individual words are. It is really not necessary, but I spent so much time trying to translate all of it, I figured I would keep it at the end of the document. In case anyone is wondering, I do not use the web translator MyRPG.org I actually have Karen Traviss' spreadsheet that I downloaded from her website ages ago. Sadly it is not longer available for download anymore. If I remember correctly, it came down around the time she stopped writing books in the SW universe.

 

Individual word's:

Suum ca'nara – the state of blissful rest and peace Cyar’ika – beloved, sweetheart

ni – I, me dush-bad dushne -worst

oya'karir – hunt, chase olar -here

Tion'jor – why linibar – need, to

gemas-hair cuun – our net'ra -black rejorhaa'ir – tell ad- child/son/daughter

Dar’jeti - no longer jedi/Sith Riduur – partner/spouse

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - i love you forever

 

 

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Evening folks. I'm a bit late getting this one posted, though in my defense it has been a looong day.

Enjoy.

 

Spoilers

None really but it references the Quinncident... I really don't know why I am spoiler tagging it, the game has been out for six years now.

 

 

CHAPTER 16

 

 

Year 3641

 

TYTHON

 

“Come on go away,” he sighed.

 

“No I wanna know where you are going. You always are sneakin' out.” She shoved her hands onto her hips.

 

“It's none of your business, now go away.”

 

“No,” she shook her head, curls bouncing.

 

“Yes, you pest go away.”

 

A loud snap filled the night air, followed by a ground shaking rumble. “What is that?” Her honey-brown eyes widened as her head snapped towards the sound. In a flash she was gone, running barefoot through the trees.

 

“By the Force,” Ka'van sighed. “Zhara go back to the Temple!” he yelled as he chased her.

 

She was faster than he was, darting through the thick trees. His only advantage, he knew where they were headed. He only had to catch her before they got there. She could not see.

 

Ducking under a low hanging branch he leapt onto a game trail. He could hear her up ahead; gritting his teeth he ran harder. How could she be so damn fast?

 

Her startled gasp filled the air.

 

“Damn it,” he muttered changing his direction. There was no point sticking to the trail now. He moved towards the clearing and the awaiting ship.

 

His frown deepened. Before him was not the silhouette of a freighter but the sleek angular form of his Mom's personal fighter. Of all the nights for her to follow him, it had to be this one.

 

“Oh wow,” Zhara breathed, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Look at that ship. Is that where you were going?”

 

“You really should have listened to me,” Ka'van hissed.

 

The ship groaned as it vented long plumes of white smoke and a low whine filled the air. With a snapping hiss the gangplank began to lower, filling the night with a dark red light.

 

“Who do you think that is?” Zhara asked, her voice was so loud.

 

“Zhara,” Ka'van hissed, “you are not supposed to be here.”

 

“No way I am missing this.” She moved past him towards the now still ship, ducking as she walked, trying to see up the ramp. “Who is in there Ka'van? Why were you sneaking off?”

 

The familiar clang of armored footfalls filled the air. Ka'van stiffened as Zhara gasped. He stared at the ramp, a dark silhouette slowly came into view. He looked over at Zhara, she stood stock still, eyes wide, mouth open.

 

As the form grew larger the boots came into view, then armored legs walking between a black robe.

 

“Wow,” Zhara breathed, her voice painfully loud.

 

Ka'van's stomach started to hurt, she was so loud. She was always so loud. She was always loud and nosy. She could not keep a secret, ever. He sniffled as he wiped his eyes.

 

“What do you think that is? Think it is a bounty hunter?”

 

He shook his head, as he rubbed the heals of his hands into his eyes.

 

“Why are you crying? Are you scared?”

 

Ka'van stared at the approaching figure, their belt held a hilt, the robe’s cowl was pulled low. The figure stopped at the bottom of the ramp.

 

“Well this is unexpected.”

 

His Buir sounded disappointed, he rubbed his eyes harder. “I am sorry, Buir, I am,” he sniffled. “She would not listen, she wouldn't.”

 

Her black robed form walked closer, the metallic echo of the ramp became a dull thud as her boots hit the forest floor. “So you don't want her here?” His Mother stopped in front of him.

 

He shook his head, “I told her to go back.”

 

“And she didn't listen hmmm?” His Buir shook her head.

 

He rubbed his eyes, hiccuping. “No, she followed me out of the Temple. She is always following me.”

 

“Oh dear, that is not good.” She turned to look at Zhara, “A little nosy are you?”

 

“Well he never tells me anything! Always so quiet, and he sneaks off a lot! Almost every night,” Zhara pouted.

 

“Does he? Tell me why you think it is so important to find out where he is going?” Buir's hand drifted to her hilt and waited there.

 

Ka'van's eyes grew wide as he sniffled, wiping his runny nose as warm tears dripped down his cheeks.

 

“We are supposed to stay inside at night. They all tell us to stay inside, but he does not stay! He goes out to the village and into the ruins!” Zhara frowned and pointed at Ka'van before slamming her hands onto her hips.

 

“So is that why you followed him, to get him into trouble?”

 

“No,” she shook her head, curls bouncing. “No I want to go with, I want to see and he won't take me.”

 

“Ahh so you are curious are you?”

 

Zhara nodded her head.

 

“Has anyone ever told you it can be dangerous to be inquisitive? That sometimes you discover things you shouldn't?” His Mother leaned forward, her fingers touching the hilt on her belt.

 

Ka'van hiccuped as he furiously wiped his eyes.

 

“No,” Zhara shook her head, “it is not dangerous, it is fun to discover new things. Like Buir what does Buir mean? He keeps calling you that.”

 

“Well,” his Mother's fingers wrapped around the hilt. “That is something you don't need to know the answer to.”

 

“But I want to know, what does it mean?” Her hands moved to her hips, “I wanna know!”

 

“There are times knowing things will get you killed.”

 

“It is just a word, tell me.”

 

“It is a special word,” his Mother's hand moved, he heard the click of the saber. He watched her hand move slowly away from her belt. “Do you really want to know what it means?”

 

Ka'van swallowed, hard. His hands furiously wiping his cheeks, shaking he bit his bottom lip. He wanted to stop what he knew was going to happen. Why hadn't she just stayed in her room? She was such a damn pest.

 

“Yes I do!” Zhara nodded, curls bouncing.

 

“It is Mando'a.”

 

“What is Mando'a?”

 

“Mandalorian.”

 

“Ohhhh you are a bounty hunter, aren't you?” Zhara looked so confident.

 

“No, child. I am not a bounty hunter.”

 

Zhara's brow wrinkled, “Then what are you? What does Buir mean?”

 

His Mother shook her head, “It means parent. Mother.”

 

Zhara's honey coloured eyes widened, “You are his Mom? Oh wow. Why are you sneaking meeting here in the woods at night? Wouldn't be easier to meet at the Temple.”

 

“No child it would not. You see I am his secret. No one knows about me. No one can know about me.” His Mother's hand moved, he watched her thumb slide towards the activation switch.

 

Sniffing he wiped his cheeks, “Nyac Buir, nyac.”

 

They both turned to look at him, his Mother's eyebrow lifted.

 

“Nyac, Buir. Please.” He sniffled wiping his nose.

 

“Tion'jorbe?”

 

“She, she is a friend.” Ka'van stammered.

 

“Is she?” His Mother's eyes were staring into him.

 

“I am?” Zhara echoed.

 

Ka'van numbly nodded. “She is.”

 

“Then why are you so mean to me, always leaving me behind?”

 

“I am not being mean, I was protecting you. You can't be so nosy Zhara, you can't be,” he hiccuped rubbing his face.

 

“Hey, why are you crying? Your mom is here, why are you so sad?” Zhara turned away from his Mother staring at him. “Why are you crying, you never cry. Even when you got hurt really bad during saber training.”

 

“Please Buir don't.”

 

“Is there another choice?” His Mother asked.

 

“There always is Buir.” He wiped his eyes, “Please.” Swallowing hard he looked her in the eyes.

 

“There could be. You are leaving with me tonight. I can't risk leaving you here any longer.”

 

“What? No I can't not yet. Please Buir you can't.” His chin quivered as tears started streaming down his cheeks again. “They are finally getting to the good stuff. It is finally getting interesting, you can't you can't.”

 

“I need to it is not safe here. Things have changed I need to make sure you are safe, keeping you here in this nest of vipers is not a good idea. They can discover who you are, or worse my Master can discover you are here.”

 

“But Buir,” he hiccuped, “you can't. Please don't. Why would your Master look for me here?”

 

She bit her lip shaking her head. “It is complicated adult stuff honey I can't.”

 

“Yes you can,” Zhara butted in, her honey coloured curls bouncing as she shook her head. “Why can't you? Why do adults always use that excuse. You can't take him away, you just can't leave!”

 

His Mother's head turned to look at Zhara. “Yes I can, I can do what I want, when I want. Right now I want my son safe and away from this place.”

 

“Well I want to know why you are taking him away!” Zhara yelled.

 

“It is not safe here for him anymore.”

 

“Yes it is, it is filled with Jedi. There is no place safer,” Zhara boasted.

 

“That is the problem,” his Mother growled.

 

“Buir, what is going on? Please tell me, please.”

 

His Mother sighed, her head turning to look at him, “I found a rat on my ship, one who has been working the entire time for my Master. He just tried to hurt me. He failed.”

 

“He tried to kill you,” Ka'van whispered.

 

“Yes, he tried and failed.”

 

Ka'van nodded, “Did he tell I was here?”

 

“I do not know, I don't want to take the chance.”

 

“Why would someone working for your master try to kill you?” Zhara asked her forehead wrinkled as she scratched her head. “That doesn't make any sense.”

 

Ka'van sucked in a harsh breath, blue eyes widening as he watched his Mother's hand move. He felt the Force around them surge as her right hand lifted, pointing towards Zhara's skinny body.

 

“For all the questions you ask you do seem to have a hard time drawing conclusions.” His Mother's hand moved and he felt Zhara's surprise though the Force. “Have not put the pieces together yet, have you? I am his Mother, I am not a Jedi. It is common for an Apprentice to kill their Master, for Masters to use their Apprentices to further their own aims.”

 

“You, you are a Sith?” Zhara shook her head. “But how...”

 

Ka'van watched his Mother shake her head, “She is a pretty thing, I can feel the Force flowing strongly around her, I have a strong suspicion her academic grades are lacking?”

 

“'lek Buir. I help her with her studies Buir.” Ka'van rubbed the heel of his hand against his eye, his hand rubbing his cheek. “Please Buir.”

 

“I can't risk it, I don't want anyone finding out about you. I don't want to run the risk he has some spy here who will kill you in your sleep.”

 

“It is most unfortunate that she followed you here, if she tells where you went, and there is a spy here. They will know where to find you.”

 

“Nayc, there is always another way. Please.”

 

“Do you have a better idea?”

 

“Yes I do, I, I have heard of Persuading. We can make her forget, forget it all.”

 

“And how would you deal with the potential spy?”

 

Ka'van sniffled. “If I leave then they will know. If they work for your Master they will notice that I left after he tried to kill you.”

 

“This is true.” His Mother nodded. “What would you do?”

 

“She, she is with me a lot. Two people are better than one when you are looking for something.”

 

“So you want me to have her forget she met me, saw my ship. You want her to forget I am your Mother.”

 

Ka'van nodded.

 

“You want her to help watch, keep an eye on things, on you? Not a bad idea. Though Ka'van...”

 

Ka'van nodded looking at her, “Yes Buir?”

 

“We do not Persuade anyone, we Compel them. Do not forget who and what you are.”

 

“Never Buir, never. Promise.”

 

She studied him for a moment, then nodded. A sharp gasp from Zhara echoed through the clearing. His Mother bent closer to her. When she spoke her voice was low and even. “Zhara, you never met me tonight. You never saw the ship, you never talked to me.”

 

Zhara's eyes looked funny as she nodded, “I never met you tonight, I never saw the ship, I never talked to you.”

 

“Good,” his Mother murmured. “You will forget the conversation you just heard.”

 

Zhara nodded, “I will forget the conversation I just heard.”

 

“You will remember to watch over Ka'van. You will listen to Ka'van. If you find anyone who seeks to hurt Ka'van you will return here and use the holocom that is hidden inside the fallen tree in this very clearing.”

 

Zhara nodded, “I will watch Ka'van, I will listen to him. If anyone wants to hurt him I will use the holocom in the tree over there.”

 

“Very good.” Her hand lowered.

 

Ka'van watched as Zhara relaxed slightly before slumping, falling to the ground.

 

“Buir!” Ka'van yelled.

 

“She is not hurt. She is sleeping, the Compulsion took. Be careful Ka'van, be very careful.” She reached into a robe pocket, moving towards the heavy fallen log she pulled out a holocommunicator and placed it into a hollow knot.

 

Turning she walked back to him, wrapping her arms around him. “You are getting so tall. You keep growing at this rate, you will be as tall as Lieutenant Pierce.” She smiled at him, brushing his face, her fingers cold against his wet cheeks. “Please do be careful. You can stay, for now.” She kissed his forehead, before tightening her hug.

 

He rested his head against her armored chest, wrapping his arms around her. “I will be careful. You be careful Buir. I have seen something, a room filled with chairs and armored men.”

 

“Have you?” she rubbed his back, resting her chin on top of his head.

 

“Yes, they do not move. They stay seated. I see you standing, tired, hurt, but standing Buir. You are holding two sabers. I think you win Buir. I think you win.”

 

“Good, very good.” Her hands moved to his shoulders as she kissed the top of his head. “I was confident before, but hearing that bolsters me further. I will return when this nasty business is taken care of. I will stay a while, a couple days.”

 

“Do you promise?”

 

“Of course I do, I promise on the Force.”

 

He looked up at her smiling. “You should go Buir, you need to be gone before she wakes up.”

 

“You are right.” She ruffled his copper locks, she kissed his head one last time before her hands left his shoulders. She slowly turned giving him one last long look before she walked up the ramp to her ship.

 

Her shape disappeared as she moved into the ship. He moved sitting down next to Zhara's slumbering form. He watched as the ship began to hover a low hiss filling the air, slowly the fighter began to lift off the ground, the landing gear moved disappearing into the ship's belly. Sighing as the ship rotated and rapidly moved away skimming along over the treetops. They moved, waving as the fighter passed disappearing from sight, he liked to imagine they were waving good-bye to her. Closing his eyes he leaned backwards onto the grass; sighing he shifted on the unyielding ground, might as well get some sleep while he waited for her to wake up. He would just tell her she fell bumped her head, which made her sleep and he fixed it. Then they would go back to the Temple, though he really was not in the mood to sneak off and explore at least not for a while. For now he would actually listen and stay within the Temple at night.

 

 

 

AN

 

 

I went back and looked in my notes, apparently this is one that didn't go with a prompt.

Ka'van is thirteen and he has been there for seven years.

 

Mando'a

Buir- parent

nayc- no

tion'jor- why?

tion'jorbe why, what reason.

Jorbe-reason

tion - interrogative prefix, used for a question

 

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Good News Everyone! I have an update... Sorry, I have had Professor Putricide's aggro line going through my head lately. Oddly enough I have not tanked that fight in about six years, I did enjoy the ICC though. Now back on topic. Here is the update :)

 

For the spoilers

SW Act III spoilers and Agent Story line spoilers, referencing characters within and their actions in passing.

 

 

CHAPTER 17

 

 

Year 3641

 

DROMAND KAAS

 

Stretching she pulled her arms over her head, rolling her neck to ease some of the tension. Exhaling with a heavy sigh she continued searching through the various datapads spread before her. The amount of information was staggering. The sheer number of pies her late Master had his fingers in was mind boggling and now it was up to her to sort it out, cut loose what was unneeded and rightfully claim what use useful.

 

Her head shot up as she scanned the deathly silent halls. The entire building was giving her the chills, it was unnervingly silent, as if the entire wing was tense; holding its breath, waiting. She had searched the entire place when she arrived, there was not a living soul inside, it had been completely deserted.

 

She had been able to piece together the Council, in their infinite wisdom, had closed the department down and transferred the personal off to other branches. Which had to be the dumbest use of resources she had run across to date. In the middle of a Cold War and they do something so idiotic.... she growled to herself tossing her datapad on the table. She knew a little of Intelligence they needed to be here working, not off doing worthless menial tasks.

 

She could understand her late Master insisting on dismantling the Agency; he was in the middle of a massive power play and could not risk anyone discovering his ruse. But, she smiled to herself as she picked up the next datapad, he had not been successful she had personally liberated him from the tedious task of breathing yesterday.

 

Which left the Empire without a viable Intelligence branch; considering the massive network her former Master had laid out, she would be able to assist in remedying that. It needed to be addressed and set into motion quickly, there was no Sith governing the Sphere. Well there was, she rubbed her temple, but the creature deserved no respect, she inherited the seat when her father disappeared. She was completely incompetent, had she any semblance of a brain she would of not left Intelligence in such a state. It was no wonder that the agency was swept out from under her. It would be easy enough to put her back in 'charge', keeping her as an impotent figurehead. Well maybe, she had to be found first. Sighing she rubbed her temple again.

 

But first things first she needed to finish trudging through this pile of documents, informing everyone who was in her Master's employment that they were now in her employment and she needed more caf to be able to do that. Where was Vette?

 

Her head jerked up again, something was so eery about this place. The Dark Temple had a more welcoming atmosphere. Her green eyes squinted as she looked around the room. Then she felt something. A dull flicker, something was off. Keeping her head still, eyes locked on the datascreen in front of her she reached out feeling.

 

There in front of her, she felt a... droid. What? There were no droids in this room. Keeping her face unchanged she swallowed her annoyance and continued to probe. It was faint, droid-like but had a sentient's Force signature. Interesting.

 

Her hand touched the screen, randomly touching the data that sprang to life. She continued to reach out; there next to the 'droid' she felt another. So there were two sentients in here, humanoids of some kind, but whom? She felt them split apart the 'droid' staying by the doorway, the other moving around the perimeter of the office.

 

Her eyes continued to look through the screen, her fingers pretending to scroll through the data as she tracked the being moving around the room. She moved back against the chair placing her elbow on the desk, bringing the datapad up in front of her. Slowly she unhooked her feet, placing her right foot next to the chair leg. Letting go of a quiet sigh she blew her bangs out of her face.

 

Still the being circled the room, they were quiet she would give them that. As they neared she smelled something, it was recognizable but it teased her, whatever it was it was unwilling to be identified. The being slowly began to creep along the wall behind her. “Ahh, that's close enough.” No more of that, she thought.

 

Reaching out she pinned them against the wall. She heard a muffled male grunt as he was pushed into the wall with the Force. Holding him there she slowly turned her head towards the 'droid'. “Its not nice to sneak up on people, where are your manners?” She focused her attention to the non-moving Force signature.

 

Nothing, they did not move, but they were there. She reached out and gently prodded the 'droid' she felt resistance and a small spiking of concern. “How about you drop the generator so we can talk like civilized people.”

 

Still nothing, raising an eyebrow she applied more pressure to the man she had trapped against the wall. She heard him grunt in response, but he did not speak. Interesting. Who were these people? They were not afraid, perhaps lost Agents? “How disappointing.” She dropped her head and resumed reading the datapad. She felt the man struggle against her hold; she simply tightened it slightly. He stilled instantly.

 

The 'droid' moved slightly, entering the room fully. She reached out and touched them, stopping them from moving further. “Not until you drop the generator.” She looked up from the datascreen and stared at the 'droid's' location. She felt another presence enter the building; she gently pushed out against it. Vette was here. Almost immediately Vette slowed.

 

The snap hum of a disengaging shield generator filled the air. In front of her materialized a Chiss woman wearing street clothes. Tall thin, lovely dark blue skin, midnight blue hair, her large red eyes were orbs of fire. Quite a lovely woman, she mused as she stared back, her mouth smirking. “So, is there anything I can help you with, directions, maybe. This is Intelligence, the place does seem to be rather deserted at the moment, you can't by any chance shed some light on that can you?”

 

She watched the woman. The Chiss looked past her to where the man was being held against the wall.

“Not until I know your business. I do like this office I would hate to have to clean up any blood stains.”

 

The Chiss' eyes narrowed. She folded her arms in front of her and stated, “Cipher Nine.” The woman radiated annoyance and suspicion.

 

“Nice to meet you Cipher, I am Darth Tyche. Cipher I am getting the feeling you are not happy with my presence here.” She canted her head to the side studying the woman; she so had so far counted three vibroknives hidden on her person as well as the nicely maintained blaster on her hip. “Would it interest you to know that yesterday I had the pleasure of executing someone who had a hand in dismantling your Agency?”

 

That got her, she dropped her hands, her face hid her surprise but it rolled off her in waves. She smiled at the Chiss. “I am digging through all this horribly filed paperwork trying to track down the upper ranking personnel.”

 

Cipher stared at her, those fascinating red eyes glowing. “Why?”

 

She sighed, so not a very talkative Cipher. “To reform it, of course. We need a functioning Intelligence Agency, it's only a matter of time before the Treaty is broken, I don't intend to see us caught in the lurch. But,” she watched the blue-skinned woman, “neither do I want such a valuable asset to be squandered again due to pointless infighting. Do you?”

 

She felt Vette's presence inch closer, she was in the hallway just outside the room, leaning forward a fraction and tilting her head towards the door she was able to make eye-contact. The Twi'lek kept her twin blasters un-holstered but silently slid up against the wall, waiting.

 

The Cipher Agent shook her head. “I don't, what are you proposing?”

 

She leaned back into her chair. “We have a perfectly good figurehead in place, she craves respect so badly she will be easy enough to keep distracted. Should be a simple matter to keep a skeleton-crew working for show, a front. Channel the resources through here,” she gestured to the office wall before her, “to keep the Agency working, but also use it as a buffer against any future council infighting.”

 

Setting the datapad down she gave the woman her full attention. “I have inherited an amazing network of spies and resources already in place. Would be a shame to let it all go to waste. I was trying to locate the Minister. You wouldn't know how to find him would you?”

 

“I would.”

 

“Excellent!” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Vette I have some new people I want you to meet.” At the sound of her name the silent Twi'lek slid into the room her violet eyes glittering as she watched the Chiss jump. The Chiss leaned back against the wall, cursing under her breath.

 

She turned around and looked at the wall, dropping her Force hold on the man. The snap hum again filled the air and a tall angular man appeared. She studied, him something about him was familiar. Now that she was able to see his face she was able to place the odor, the man was a Joiner, the distinctive odor had something to do with pheromones. She nodded her head to him, “Darth Tyche, this lovely lady is Vette.”

 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, we are Vector Hyllus.”

 

“Hyllus,” she smiled, there it was, “with the Diplomatic Services?”

 

His smile grew, “We are, how do you know of us?”

 

She smiled, “You worked with a Darth Chylon, did you not?

 

He nodded his head, “We had the honor to work with him.” The Joiner quietly looked her over, “You have a very strong resemblance to him, if I may ask are you relation?”

 

She smiled at him winking, “He is my Father.” She gestured to the empty seats at the table, “Please sit, we have a lot to discuss.

 

 

 

AN

 

The prompt was Morning After. Also as a side note, it honestly drove me nuts that you are told how expansive Baras' spy network was supposed to be and yet the SW never gets to gain control of or utilize it after you defeat him. It also bothered me you never were able to take control of his Council seat. To me being able to control one of the Spheres was better than being a glorified executioner, but I might be in the minority.

 

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I've been lurking for a while, mostly because of reading when I wasn't able to respond.

As you said yourself, some parts aren't easy to digest. Still, overall I am intrigued and looking forward to see where you will be taking us.

I especially do like little Ka'van.

As for your comment on the latest part, Baras' spy network bugged me, too. In my headcanon my SW also takes control of it with the help of another OC who has been working inside Baras' network. With the additional input from the Hand there is little that will escape the new Wrath's notice, which makes them even more dangerous than the last. The Council will do good to tread carefully.

Regarding the question of whether being a Council member or the Wrath is the better job, that's down to personal preference. While the single Council members still have to answer to the Council as a whole, the Wrath only answers to the Emperor, or his Hand respectively. The Council members may be able to use their spheres for personal gain to some degree, but they'll be watching each other Argus-eyed. And all those endless discussions during Council meetings...

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A comment! I was quite tickled to see the comment Frauzet :) It made my day.

 

@ Frauzet

 

I completely understand, I am a habitual lurker myself.

I really hesitated to post the story since parts of it are rather rough. That is one of the reasons why I had been debating about posting it since March. I hope you will enjoy where the story leads.

I'm glad you like little Ka'van, the ginger has grown on me over the years. You are also in luck, you will get to see more if him in this post.

I would honestly tell you what I ended up doing with my SW, but I think it might spoil things.

I do have to agree with you about the Council meetings though... office meetings at work are bad enough, I can only imagine how horrid one of those meetings would actually be.

 

 

 

Spoilers:

Reference to Chamber of Speech, 2 man heroic, as well as the JC story on Tython

 

 

CHAPTER 18

 

 

 

Timeline: Year 3637

 

TYTHON

 

Pinching the bridge off his nose, he sighed. He needed to figure out a way around this broken programming loop. “Yes Gatekeeper,” he continued, trying to mask his frustration. “I am interested in the writings of the Warrior Poet, his later years. His third book of poetry please.”

 

“I do not know if I will be able to comply.”

 

“Check your subroutines, the secondary routing is still stable and functioning,” Ka'van sighed.

 

The Gatekeeper stilled as a quiet, barely discernible whining filled the air. “Pardon me, it seems you are correct.”

 

“I usually am,” Ka'van grinned. “So Avamarivash, his third book of poetry.”

 

“Very well, retrieving the requested book.” The Gatekeeper grew quiet. “That material seems unsuited to an individual as young as yourself.”

 

Ka'van chuckled shaking his head. “I am familiar with his work, quite familiar. This third book focuses on his more interesting conquests. Cross-reference all known works, to ensure a complete copy, the last one was corrupted.”

 

“When finished I need the Medical Works Volume Three, The Complete Compilation of Force Techniques to Diagnose and Mend Broken Bones, author lost. The Title should be enough to locate the work, there are six volumes total in the series.”

 

“I also need a search for any and all works by a person called Rajivari, Human male birth date unknown.”

 

“Compiling request. I will be unable to make permanent copies of these records. I only have the ability to transfer the data of one of your requests, which one do you want to be transcribed?”

 

Ka'van shook his head, “A previous diagnostic check revealed the degraded pathways, they have been repaired, multiple copies of the data requested can be created.”

 

Silence filled the air, only the dull metallic creaking of a relic sentry droid from far away, near the front of the ancient cave like complex disturbed the silence. He sighed content, he did enjoy the quiet of this place.

 

A slight breeze drifted over his bare arm. The cool air *****led the back of his neck. Sighing he pushed his incredibly long locks off his right shoulder and down his back. Frowning he straightened, turning his head he looked behind him. “What Zhara?” The air shimmered behind him.

 

“Oh, how did you know it was me?” she pouted.

 

His frown deepened. “Who else would it be?”

 

She shrugged, “No one else. Nobody else knows where to find you.”

 

His copper brow arched as he crossed his arms. “What makes you think I want to be found?”

 

“Don't care if you want to be found, I knew where you were.” She reached out grabbing a loose lock of copper hair. “You know you should get this cut. Everyone has it cut short.”

 

“Well I am not everyone,” he snorted jerking his head backwards, pulling the lock out of her fingers.

 

Zhara bit her bottom lip as she looked at him, her conflict evident. He knew how badly she wanted to be the good little Padawan; she actually cared what people thought. She had tried for years to get him to care, he also knew the last thing she wanted was to upset him.

 

“Could you at least wear a braid?” she offered. “I can do it for you.”

 

“No,” he gave a violent shake of his head.

 

“Come on, you need to listen to me. I am older.” Her mouth quirked downward.

 

“No I don't and that argument hardly worked when we were younger. You are barely a year older than me anyway.”

 

“You have to listen to me because we are both Balmorrian.” Zhara smiled, just radiating confidence through the Force.

 

Ka'van shook his head, “Nope, that doesn't matter. That is like saying I have to listen because our rooms are on the same floor.”

 

Her smile wilted as a frown appeared. “You should at least listen to somebody.”

 

Ka'van just shrugged, turning his back to Zhara, staring at the dimmed display before him.

 

“They are looking for you,” she whispered. “Something about a Master.”

 

Sharply his head turned, frowning at her. “You didn't,” he growled.

 

“Nope no way. I didn't want you mad at me.” She stepped closer, her voice low. “They brought in some important master. He is furious no one can find you. I heard them talking, I was supposed to be studying but I overheard them. People are worried about you, they say you are reckless. There is talk no one is taking you as their Padawan. This fancy Master he was supposed to take you, he's refused. Said something like, he is to wild to reckless.”

 

“That is scary, they will send you away Ka'van.”

 

He stared at her emotionless. He could care less, he never planned on taking a master. He could leave at anytime. When he had learned enough he would leave and go home to Dromund Kaas.

 

“Well Master Yuon heard. Since you like to read and are always in the archives, I think she is going to say yes.” Zhara looked up at him her honey-brown eyes shining.

 

He chewed on the inside of his mouth. “Interesting news.”

 

“Are you not excited?” Zhara's brow knitted, her confusion evident. “You won't be sent away, isn't it great?”

 

Thankfully the Gatekeeper returned, saving him from having to answer. “I was unable to locate any records of a person named Rajivari.”

 

“Rajivari?” Zhara pushed next to him, “What are you doing?”

 

Ka'van sighed stepping a half a step away from her, “I was trying to be helpful. You said you had to gather those holo projectors. That his was missing.”

 

“Oh,” she muttered stepping a half a step closer, erasing all the distance he created.

 

Ka'van's blue eyes rolled. It would be pointless to point out how obvious she was. She would protest and deny it. She would get embarrassed and things would get awkward. Zhara might be older but she was utterly clueless sometimes.

 

She stepped even closer, her arm brushing against his. Clueless. He highly doubted she even knew what she was playing with. Her hand awkwardly brushed against the small of his back, clumsily fumbling fingers pressing against the thin black material.

 

His copper eyebrow arched over his storm-blue eye as he peered down at her tiny frame. She had stopped growing a couple standard years ago and he had shot past her. She barely came to his chest. Once her riot of honey-brown hair afforded her the illusion of extra height. He had been disappointed when she had started confining her unruly locks to a thick plait and sporting one of those ridiculous Padawan braids.

 

Zhara was facing forward straining to look at him out of the corner of her eye, lower lip dimpled where she was biting it, a slow brush creeping across her cheeks.

 

Yes his mouth quirked, completely clueless.

 

The ancient relic before him flickered as the Gatekeeper reappeared. “Good news, I have been able to successfully locate and compile the requested data. They have been stored on separate datacards due to their vastly different natures.”

 

“Thank you, I require nothing else at this time. Continue to run off the secondary subroutine.” Ka'van bent over retrieving the two datacards, looking at the neatly inscribed cases. “Hey,” he complained as Zhara grabbed them out of his hands. Frowning he reached for them, she was such a damn pest.

 

“What did you get?” She twisted away from his reaching arm, bending over the snatched datacards.

 

“Give those back Zhara,” Ka'van growled.

 

“No, I want to see what they are, you snuck off here during your mandatory meditation hour. I wanna know what you got.” She danced away from him, moving towards the now dormant terminal.

 

He stepped closer reaching for the cases, growling when she ducked under his arm, slipping to the right.

 

“Lets see, you have selected Force Techniques for setting bones,” her face screwed up as she looked up at him. “How boring, why do you like all that boring healing stuff anyway. The saber duels are more fun.”

 

Ka'van grit his teeth as he stalked towards her, she twirled away from him slipping past the edge of the sleeping relic. His jaw relaxed as a slow grin crept across his lips, this was going to be over soon. Subtly he stepped mirroring her movement, positioning his tall frame squarely before her. When she looked down at the cards in her hand, he stepped closer.

 

“Oh who is Avamarivash?” She looked up at him smiling.

 

“Doubt you would be interested. It is a book of poetry.” Ka'van reached out his right arm, she moved to the left inadvertently backing her body against the stone cave wall and the thick metallic side of the computer.

 

“Poetry huh, why do you like that stuff?” Her mouth screwed up.

 

Ka'van shook his head, “Most people do.”

 

He stepped closer, slowly bending over. His voice softened. “Drowning, sinking through blissful warmth.” His arms snaked out, his right hand cupping her cheek.

 

“Reaching out, searching. Fingertips grasping, groping, refusing aid.” His left hand reached out grasping her tiny waist.

 

“Blissful as my lover's enveloping gaze consumes.” Ka'van sharply pulled her petite body against his tall frame, his dark storm blue eyes staring into her wide eyes of honey-brown.

 

“Soft flesh presses, comforting, as skin lies against skin.” He tilted his head forward, brushing his lips against hers before kissing her. Tongue gently touching those berry tasting lips. A muffled moan escaped her lips as her body relaxed. Her hands fumbled, searching for a place to touch him, sliding over the black material of his shirt. He nipped her bottom lip, eliciting a surprised squeak.

 

“Ever downward I sink, drowning in the warmth losing all resolve, content in its demise.” He murmured against her lips. He broke the kiss and looked down at the scarlet flushed face of Zhara. Her eyes were closed, rapid breath passing though parted lips. Her hands clung to his shirt front. Her surprise and interest were quite evident through the Force.

 

She definitely didn't have any idea what she was playing with, though now that she had been given a small taste she might back off. She did want to be a good Padawan. Though, he watched her as those black consumed honeyed orbs opened, that moral standing might have just been tossed out the window. He reached out, fingers running along her honey-brown hair, playing with the thick plait.

 

“What poet is that?” she breathed staring up at him as she sank against the wall.

 

“Avamarivash,” Ka'van grinned as he ran his thumb over the thick soft hair in his hand. “Do you see the appeal now?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded.

 

His smile grew as he reached out with his left hand, her braid slipping through his fingers. Ka'van gently plucked the datacards out of her hand that was still entangled in his shirt. She didn't even protest as he removed them from her limp grasp. His right thumb ghosted over her cheek, sighing she leaned into his caress. “I do need to get going, before anyone else wanders in here looking for me.”

 

Zhara nodded, “I swear I didn't tell anyone.”

 

“I know,” he winked at her, “I do need to get going. There is work I want to do in the archives before I have to deal with the tongue-lashing for disappearing during today’s lessons.”

 

“Ka'van,” She tightened her grip. “Do you think I could borrow that book sometime?”

 

“Which one? I have many.”

 

“One by him.”

 

“By Avamarivash?”

 

She nodded, “Yes.”

 

“Of course, come by my room later, you can borrow one.”

 

Zhara nodded sinking against the wall. Ka'van chuckled as he turned away from her. Maybe it was a good idea after all. He glanced back at her tiny frame as it sank into the rock wall, her eyes closed. Perhaps she would loosen up, she was a lot of fun once. A grin graced his lips, he hoped she would become fun again, he had honestly missed having her around.

 

 

 

 

AN

 

I was not able to find a single lick of poetry by Avamarivash. So I wrote my own. It had been a rather long time since I had written anything that even resembled poetry, so I hope it was not to horrible.

The Prompt: Technology with Ka'van nearing sixteen years old

 

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Posting early again as kiddo has a Halloween party to go to tomorrow... It should be fun and I get to be a judge in the costume contest. Kiddo is going to be Rey, which is cool. She is even going to be borrowing one of our awesome lightsabers, Anakin's which we got from Think Geek ages ago. I just wish I liked the movie...

 

But I digress, here is the update!

 

CHAPTER 19

 

Spoilers:

Yet another brief reference to the one event in the SW story line, I am sure you all know it.

 

 

 

 

YEAR 3637

 

DROMUND KAAS

 

She hummed a wordless song as she casually strolled across the darkly lit docking bay; ahead her Fury class Interceptor was waiting, slumbering in the darkness of the spaceport. Smiling to herself as she replayed the evening she didn’t hear the argument until she drew closer to the open airlock and lowered ramp. Her eyebrows knotted in concern, no one was supposed to be around. She had given her crew a very healthy shore leave, free reign for a week in the capital city.

 

Sighing to herself she tucked her loose dark auburn hair behind an ear and pulled her saber hilt to her left hand. Pausing at the bottom of the ramp she reached out feeling the interior of the ship, two familiar Force signatures pulsed in her vision. The Captain and the Lieutenant were inside, together, alone. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, she went to great lengths to keep the two men away from each other. Neither was supposed to be there, the Captain informed her he was going to retire to his apartment in the city and she just saw the Lieutenant at her estate before she left.

 

Frowning, she slowly continued up the ramp, listening to the officers bicker. “…what do you care Captain,” the title an insult on his lips, carried by the low rumbling voice of her Lieutenant.

 

An annoyed sigh drifted to her, “No one is supposed to be here, why are you here, don’t you have a home?” the crisp articulate Imperial accent of the Captain retorted.

 

“Yeah,” a low laugh, “I do.” Her Lieutenant growled, “It’s a nice place, should see it someday,” his tone was taunting.

 

“That is quite unnecessary,” the Captain quipped.

 

More low laughter, “Your loss.”

 

“So why are you here?” the Captain repeated.

 

“Forgot something m’ Lord is going to want, surprised she is not here, thought she was headed back here to check on the deliveries.”

 

The Captain bristled, she felt the anger rise in him. “I took care of them she does not have to continue to double check my work.”

 

Uh oh, she thought, biting her lip and stepping further into the shadows.

 

Another low rumbling laugh rolled off the walls, “she will never stop doubling checking your work …Captain.” He spit the title.

 

The anger grew, “What,” he bit the word.

 

She heard the sound of a boot scuffing the durasteel floor, “you see Captain, she does not trust you. Never will.” The Lieutenant taunted him.

 

“I have been an exemplary officer, she has no reason to doubt me.” the Captain’s bitter rebuttal.

 

“Oh really,” a low growl, “No reason, I know of a spectacular reason. I’m sure you remember the one where you tried to sink a vibroknife between her shoulder blades. It has been years but I still remember that day, I will remember it until the day I die.” He chuckled, “I should thank you though, she came to me that night.”

 

Anger boiled into fury, “How dare you, that’s my wife.” the Captain snarled.

 

“Was your wife, but you refuse to sign those papers. Doesn’t matter. That marriage died that day, in blood and ion along with her trust in you,” the Lieutenant’s taunting laughing voice filled the ship.

 

Oh by the Force, she gripped her saber debating if she should enter.

 

“So Captain, you goin’ to tell me why you are lurking on this ship? You run out of whisky, have to get into the ship's stores?”

 

“No,” the Captain’s voice was wavering, “I managed to procure a bottle of aged Alderaanian cognac.”

 

“Ahh a good gift, trying to set up a romantic moment to drink it with her?” her Lieutenant’s voice was harsh, aggressive. She heard the boots scrape again. “Still won’t beat the gift I gave her.”

 

She clenched her eyes shut, oh no please Pierce don’t.

 

“What, what gift,” the Captain asked; she felt fear mingle with the fury.

 

“For someone who claims to love her so much you really know nothing about her. The gift I gave her,” she heard a low laugh, “was a son.”

 

“What?” the Captain’s whisper barely filtered though the ship.

 

“Oh you should see him, big boy, dark reddish brown hair with her brilliant green eyes. It amazes me how smart he is.”

 

“A son?” the confused Captain mumbled.

 

The Lieutenant continued ignoring him, “such a handsome boy, the best part he is Force sensitive.”

 

Pain, waves of shocked pain radiated through the ship. Damn it Pierce, she thought to herself. She bowed her head and turned to go when she heard Pierce talking again. “Actually I take that back, the best gift, is my son’s twin sister.”

 

“Twin,” the sadness of the word caused her head to hang heavier.

 

“Oh she is lovely, mirror image of her brother, also Force sensitive, and the sweetest little thing, they both take after their mother in that regard. That is what I came back for I forgot a couple of their gifts,” a deep laugh rumbled through their ship, he was gloating. “Their second birthday is tomorrow.”

 

The laugh faded and silence grew thick. She held her breath waiting. She knew inside Pierce was standing there gloating as the Captain was quietly calculating. “Alderaan, they were born on Alderaan,” the Captain’s voice wavered. “The diplomatic side work she did, when I went to work for Major Ovech.” His voice was so quiet, she could barely hear him, it was laced with pain. “It was a lie to be rid of me.”

 

A chuckle. “No she did deal with those stuck up nobles, she never lied about that. They do love to fawn over her. It kept her happy and busy, while we waited.”

 

“She did want to be rid of you, didn’t want you telling anyone.” the Lieutenant's voice took a hard edge.

 

“But… I would not have harmed her,” the Captain’s voice was so soft. “I have been working to rebuild…”

 

“Rebuild,” Pierce rumbled, “rebuild, you tried to kill her and she was pregnant, the wrong word in the right ear and she would have been dead, hard to fight in that condition. We,” he stressed the word, “were not going to take that risk. The only non family who knew was the Hand, and they were not told, they felt it.”

 

“You know the only reason you are still alive, she told me to not touch you. The only reason,” his growl filled the ship. “I dream of it, ending you, but I will never go against her.” Pierce growled.

 

“Should I get you another bottle,” venom laced through the words. “Quite the pricey habit you have developed, I am tempted to tell m’ Lord just how many bottles you drink in a week. How long did it take you to prefect the ratio of whisky to adrenal so you could still function? Finish what is left in the bottle you have hidden under the couch, I’ll go get you another.” Heavy footsteps retreated down the ships corridor, after a breathless eternity they returned. “Here,” he snarled, “drink it, drink it all and then give us all a gift,” she heard the heavy thud of something landing on the table. “Eat that. Just take your worthless carcass outside first.”

 

The heavy footsteps moved down the hallway again, she looked around the ship’s entrance way, she needed to be out of sight shortly. Clipping her hilt to her belt she pulled her hood over her face and jumped off the ramp, landing quietly in her armored boots. Ducking under the vessel she loitered near the ramp, out of sight but still within earshot. Stars Pierce why did you have to tell him, she sighed, but she knew why.

 

He hated the Captain and now that he was a father, Pierce wanted him dead convinced he would betray them again, traitors always did. He had been livid when the Captain returned to the ship, making sure she was never alone with him. She had tried to sooth his fears, even though she shared them, reminding Pierce that keeping the Captain under constant close watch was easier than trying to track him across the Fleet. But it seemed unnecessary; all these years the man had been exemplary in all things, in his desperate attempt to regain any lost footing with her.

 

Now that Pierce had told the Captain of their children's existence if they got as much as an unusual scratch he would have all the proof he needed to ‘end him’. She sighed rubbing her temple, the beginnings of a headache creeping in. By the Force it was easier to keep oil and vinegar emulsified than it was getting those two off of each other’s throats.

 

Heavy footsteps echoed through the ship and rolled out into the bay, they paused above her before they continued down the ramp. The smell of his earthy musky cologne drifted to her, inhaling she reached out feeling him. Pierce was content and happy as he sauntered off through the bay, brightly wrapped packages tightly tucked under his arm. Watching him walk away she frowned, indecision tugging at her. To go on board or to follow him back to her estate.

 

Pinching the bridge of her nose she sighed. “Damn it,” she muttered. Adjusting her hood she gracefully leapt onto the lowered ramp and into the dimly lit interior. Quietly she stood in the common room’s threshold, watching. The Captain, reclining back against the couch, uniform jacket unbuttoned, eyes puffy, face tear streaked and red, had his head thrown back drinking from a bottle of whisky as if it was water.

 

When he finally put the bottle down, he almost dropped it. His blue eyes locked onto her standing, waiting, in the shadows. “My Lord,” he lurched setting the bottle down on the table, next to a blaster. Drunken fingers fumbled with buttons as he listed to his feet.

 

She held up her hand, “Don’t, just sit back down.” He fell back into the couch, staring up at her, tears trickling down his cheeks. She watched them, entranced, as they slid down, dripping off his chin leaving perfect round marks on his disheveled uniform. He had never shed a tear when he betrayed her and now they flowed.

 

Silence filled the air, he continued to stare at her as she watched the perfectly round drops grow and darken the grey cloth. She shifted her gaze to his face. He moved on the couch, his jaw clenching as he tried to organize inebriated thoughts. Raising her hand she stilled his movements. She did not want to do this right now, not now, but those eyes were pleading. She rubbed porcelain fingers over her shadowed forehead, sighing she debated how best to proceed. He decided for her.

 

“Please, my Lord don’t send me away again.” His voice was quiet, the words starting to slur.

 

That was not what she expected. “It’s nothing less than you deserve, no one trusts you and now,” she shook her head, “it would be for the best.”

 

“So he wins,” the Captain mumbled.

 

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and locked her back, glaring at him. “How anyone can call this a victory is beyond me. Why did it take this for you to finally profess to being Human?”

 

“We are all Imperials here, we all understand the accepted method of operation within the Sith Empire. Did it ever occur to you to actually apologize to me? To actually tell me those two little words. You regretted it you never said you were sorry.” He stared at her, tears continuing to darken his chest.

 

“Now you show emotion, now, years later. What are you truly mourning, it’s not the loss of me, is it the loss of your precious status? These tears shed three years earlier on the Transponder would have completely changed your life. Why is it Captain you can see all the angles but the ones that directly affect your own life?” Her rage mounting she pressed on. “Oblivious to the fact the Bastard kept you languishing away on that backwater planet, you only saw that he ‘saved’ you, never realizing that he prevented you from excelling, you were simply a preserved resource. Equally blind to the power I possess, even when I was approached by part of the ruling body you still discounted me, continued to plot.”

 

She shook her head, her anger of the situation had long ago disappeared, too have it come rushing back now infuriated her. Taking a deep breath she paused attempting and failing to collect her thoughts, her rage was too great. She reached out collecting and containing the raw emotion that surged to the surface, this man was not going to cause her to lose her temper. She took another deep breath attempting to reorganize her tram of thought and failing. To hell with it she thought, just get on with it.

 

“Your behavior has never changed, you still look down your nose at everyone, holding my crew in disdain. Do you even realize how well they all work together and get along. I will never understand it, never. I have asked around, you do realize most military men get along with each other. You have looked at the Lieutenant as if he was something you stepped in since we met him on Taris. You wanted space, to keep things professional, yet when he came onboard you did an abrupt about face.”

 

“I am not a possession.” She stared him in the face. “You have tried for far too long, interjecting yourself between me and the rest of the galaxy. I have not been your wife for over three years, sign the fracking documents. There are other Sith Lords to attach yourself to; I know you cannot function without one giving you orders. I am waiting for an opening on Major Ovech’s crew, when it is available you are gone, permanently. Find a new obsession there.”

 

The man crumpled before her eyes, sinking into the couch. “My Lord I don’t want to serve another Sith Lord, I want you, other Sith are…”

 

She smirked, “like self-serving rabid akk dogs? Many are but it is wartime, the hounds are needed, embodying the might, the glory, the driving force of the Empire. Cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war, Captain.” She growled, Sith were not pets, they were ruthless, powerful, some lacked finesse and control but they were still to be respected. For an Imperial to even think of complaining about what lord they served under, her hand clenched, her vision flashed red, before she reigned in her temper. “Where would the Empire be without them?” She stared down at him, “Should have opened your eyes, saw what you truly had. Your tragic flaw in action.”

 

“I am extending your shore leave by a month, sober up. I will not send a drunkard to the Major.” She turned and walked down the dimly lit corridor to her personal quarters, the door closing and locking behind her. All she had wanted was to pick up her second oldest and gifts she had left behind. Opening up the bedside table she retrieved a few small wrapped boxes and placed them in deep pockets hidden in her robes. Walking across the room she sighed, opening up her armoire her hand skimming black and red robes, when she felt him. Quickly she walked across the bedroom the door flying open at her approach.

 

“Buir,” the word cautiously echoed through the ship. There standing in the entrance way was a tall, lean, dark browned robed man. The Jedi robes stood out in blinding stark contrast to the ship’s interior. White teeth flashed in the shadows he lowered his hood, his long copper hair tumbling down his shoulders, his dark blue eyes sparkled. “I wanted to surprise you,” he grinned from ear to ear. Arms open he walked to her, engulfing her in his embrace.

 

“Oh I’m surprised,” she tried to look past him to the couch. “I was going to come and get you from the orbital station.”

 

“What can I say I’m resourceful,” he grinned again his blue eyes sparkling.

 

She rolled her eyes, “you should of let me get you.”

 

“I’m fine Buir really.” He turned to look at the couch.

 

There slumped over, was the Captain, the whisky had finally caught up to him. She frowned, shaking her head. “I was delayed,” she muttered.

 

The Jedi turned to quietly regard the inebriated man, “I hope you don’t mind, I gave him the extra push he needed to pass out.”

 

“No,” she shook her head, “it was for the best Ka’van.”

 

“Is that him?” he muttered.

 

“Yes,” she sadly agreed, “it is, but let him slumber, we need to get back to the estate. Great Grandfather is even here, do you have a timeline for when you drop the charade and return permanently to our home?”

 

He grinned, those smiles were never far from his lips. “I do, it will be soon, I think before the twins turn four.”

 

“Excellent,” she hugged him.

 

“Come, let’s get you out of those ridiculous robes, I had new ones made for you.” She frowned slightly, “I do hope they fit, you seem to have grown again.”

 

He chuckled, “Well I am almost sixteen and prone to growth spurts.”

 

She muttered and led him back to her room, closing the door she laid the robes out on the bed. Walking out into the hallway she waited for him to change, she stared into the medical bay watching the kolto bubble in the tank. The door opened behind her, “I think they still fit.”

 

She turned to look and smiled. She adjusted the black robe against his chest fingering the red embroidery on the hem, “but a skirt,” he tried to frown, but the corner of his mouth was jerking in a repressed smile. She ignored him adjusting the black belt, she smiled approvingly when she saw he still carried the ancient Sith hilt she gave him years ago.

 

Backing up she looked him over, “Let’s get going.” She rubbed her temple and sighed.

 

“Buir are you all right, you are more agitated than normal.”

 

She smiled looking at her son, “Yes I am all right, this afternoon has been full of unexpected ill timed events.”

 

“My arriving was not that bad was it, I know I was early but I did have a lot of fun sneaking down onto the planet.” He looked down at her concerned.

 

She shook her head no, “Come let’s get you home, you have been away far too long you need to meet your new brother and sister.”

 

“Yes Buir,” he raised his hood and fell in step next to her as they descended down the ramp and into the docking bay.

 

 

 

AN

 

This is an old one, that I have had for years now. I have never been really fond of it. I feel like she is monolouging (is that a word?) and yet for the life of me I have not been able to edit it out.

The Prompt is Bad Timing

 

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Good evening everyone. Posting a bit early, tomorrow will be busy and I need to get my rear in gear making a pumpkin pinata. It is fun spinning those kids, giving them a softball bat, and standing back :D

And thanks for viewing, I won't lie it tickles me to see the counter creep upward and I must be doing something right. It has hit over 1.5k :)

 

Now sadly this one is another cross post from the AU thread. It was posted back in May of '13, so it is older too. It is a long one, eighteen pages and 8.9k words. Sorry it's so long so grab a drink and sit someplace comfy.

 

Tagged for Adult situations

Spoilers

 

Spoilers for Imperial Voss mission Space Race, very brief reference to Jorgan's companion quest.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 20

 

 

Year 3636 The week after New Year Fete

 

VOSS

 

Staring through the table in front of him lost in thought he took another sip of his drink. Aric made a face, he was not fond of tea and it was all they seemed to have on this planet. He was dying for a good black cup of caf, preferably spiked. He stared through the gnarled wooden surface, trying not to think, to close his eyes, to remember. But he did, he remembered.

 

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. The way she was straddling his supine body; kneeling, her weight on her right leg, the left draped over his body toe pointed ready to spring, her body taunt. Her right hand was up over their heads, her left held her saber ignited outstretched over them bathing them in the palest of blues, her body twisted, her head turned looking behind them, dark auburn hair streaming lose.

 

His eyes slowly closed, again he saw her, felt her body touching his, the sundered ground digging into his back, he shuddered as he remembered.

 

He heard the cacophonous destruction around him, the debris falling on their heads, hitting the shimmering white Force field she held up over them as the sky rained down twisted metal, rocks and scorched earth. The spine-chilling screams reached his assaulted ears; the Gormacs were regrouping, charging towards the smoking crater where they huddled. She moved above him, a primal growl escaped her lips as her right hand shot out, her robe moving flowing over them.

 

Her arm jerked up, her hand clenched in a fist, outside the Force field the two Gormacs, males, were lifted up off the ground. He heard their strangled gurgles as their throats were crushed. He watched entranced as she picked her arm up higher, the struggling bodies lifted further off the ground, her hand suddenly closed, he heard the distinctive snaps of necks breaking as she growled again and threw their bodies through the air slamming them up against a twisted metal piling.

 

Her robe swirled around them as she twisted at an impossible angle to look around them, confirming they were finally safe, all the aggressors terminated. She twisted back around returning to a more humanly pose, her hair obscuring her face. She extinguished her saber returning it to her right hip. Pushing her loose red locks out of her face she leaned over him, her eyes glittering gold.

 

Her eyes scanned him as he lay beneath her in the cratered earth. The force of the impact had knocked his helmet loose. Gently she removed it and set it to the side. She deftly unlatched his breastplate examining the damaged armor, there was a large smoking hole where the left side of his armor should have been. She quickly felt his chest; he grimaced growling at her. She simply grinned, “Nothing threatening, just bruising.”

 

He slowly sat up his face close to hers as he fought to prop himself up to survey the damage. He gasped. There was nothing left. The objective had definitely been completed; the complex that housed the shield generators, the prototype ship, even the hanger was gone smoking twisted metal remained. He stared at the devastation. When he had gotten hit there was still a compound standing here.

 

 

He shuddered, his claws digging into the wooden tabletop. He pulled himself out of his reverie; he blinked looking around the room. When he had gotten hit, his hand unconsciously went to his chest, to the large painful welts and bruising that covered half of his torso. He should be dead. He ran his clawed fingertips over his head. He should be dead. But she had saved him. He took another drink of his tea desperately praying for something stronger, he was alive due to a Sith.

 

He let his mind slip back into the memory replaying the event. When he had gotten hit, the blast took him unaware, he had not seen the huge male with the assault cannon. He barely had time to hear it and register the threat before he felt his body being picked up and pushed away from the fighting. Time seemed to slow down, everything playing out in painfully slow motion before finally freezing before his eyes.

 

He flew and landed hard, so hard, his teeth clanked together, the smell of ozone flooded his sinuses, smoke and sulfur filled his mouth, his breath stolen. Around him a white bubble formed, the plasma grenade detonated. His body slammed back into a crater, dazed he didn’t understand. He looked up he saw her; she had her hand outstretched reaching towards him. She spun her saber cutting a staggering Gormak in half. Sprinting towards him she launched herself into the air, she landed her legs straddling him. She sank to one knee protecting him.

 

Protecting him, she had been. He took another sip of his tea scowling at the cup, he realized now she had picked him up and pushed him out of range, effectively escaping most of the explosion. She produced that Force field, shielding them from the twisted shrapnel. She could of let him die, given the situation it would have been easy enough to explain away. But she hadn’t the Sith had saved him, he owed his life to a damn Sith. The last couple days had been the strangest of his life but he could of never predicted this. Predicted her, what happened next. How could he? He closed his eyes and the image leapt before him.

 

She leaned closer grinning, her chest heaving from the effort, “I think we can call that a success.”

 

He stared at her, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glittered excited. “Are they all,” his body hummed in pain, grimacing he started again. “Are they all gone?”

 

She winked at him her grin widening. “Every single one. We are all alone.” She leaned closer to him.

 

He became very aware of their positioning, she was still straddling him, but now she was on her knees sitting in his lap. His left arm propped him up; his right was on her leg. His breastplate and helmet were on the ground next to them, her fingers were still buried in his tawny chest fur, her ebony robe pooled around them shielding them further from view. Her breath was so hot on his cheek; he turned to look at her, their faces a hair’s breadth apart. He stared at her, chewing on his bottom lip; the silence, the tension became palatable. “Thank … thank you, for uhh…. Thank you.” His voice was so quiet.

 

She closed the gap between them, “there are better ways to thank someone,” she leaned in closer her lips teasing his. His hand closed over her thigh, her weight settled onto his lap as her fingers dug into his chest. She bit his lower lip before she captured his mouth, he groaned as she deepened the kiss her tongue caressing his fangs. He yielded to her, laying backwards into the crater as she pushed him down, her mouth never leaving his. His hand explored her thigh as his left ran up her arm. All thoughts fled his mind as he caressed her.

 

Suddenly she stopped, growling. He opened his eyes, “what,” he mumbled. He caught a whiff of her, smoke, ozone and earthy unknown herbs, inhaling it he tried to commit it to memory. He licked her neck savoring the salt on her skin. Another growl as she straightened, she slid off of his lap and into the smoking earth. He looked at her confused. Moments later, two figures walked into view and stood at the edge of the crater.

 

The hard violet gaze of his XO caught his. She was livid, her jaw set. Her dark olive skin flushed in anger. Next to her the Sith’s apprentice stood a smile playing on her lips as she looked at him. He bit his lip. What had he done? He tried to stand and winced. The Sith stood slowly, she extended her hand to him; he happily grabbed it, allowing her to pull him to his feet.

 

He looked at his feet, his breastplate was ruined but he picked it up anyway. The smoking hole in the front sent shivers down his spine. He glanced again at the redheaded Sith. He owed her. She picked up his helmet and pulled him against her side, grateful he leaned against her, she shouldered part of his weight helping him out of the smoking crater. When they reached the top her apprentice moved next to them, “Allow me Master.” The quiet brunette slipped in next to Aric, dr.aping his arm across her shoulders, relieving the redhead of her burden. The venomous look his XO gave her cousin surprised him, something heated and unspoken passed between the two of them. The Sith glared at his XO before briefly turning her attention to Aric and her apprentice. Her apprentice nodded to her and then she was gone, slipping into the nearby treeline.

 

 

 

His commander had not spoken to him on the walk back to Voss-Ka, she did not even look at him. He followed her at a distance limping, supported by the Sith’s apprentice, the redheaded Sith silently took the point scouting the perimeter an unseen shadow guarding their return. After his XO had said her good-byes to her cousin she silently stalked back to shuttle. He stood there holding his scorched gear as she walked aboard the shuttle to take them to the Republic Orbital Station. Silently he followed.

 

Aboard the Thunderclap she finally talked, she was yelling so loudly the entire station had to of heard her. She screamed at him for not following orders for blatantly disregarding her command. He stood there, back straight, as she gave him a complete condescending dressing down. He stared at her waiting for her to finish. Finally she seemed satisfied and turned to leave, before she left she looked back him over her shoulder, “Oh and your little field trip back to Nar Shaddaa, that can wait a couple days.” She stormed out of the common area and up to her personal quarters.

 

He slunk back into the crew’s quarters; he put his ruined armor on the floor. He stared at the blackened durasteel, the engulfing hole; he was going to have to get an entirely new chestplate it was beyond salvaging. He stripped off the rest of his armor, setting it on the floor.

 

He had to get out of here, there was no way he spending any more time on this ship. He had followed his orders to the letter; he had provided support fire there had not been any other orders. He pulled on his faded civilian clothing, stuffing spare clothes into a bag. He did not have in him to puzzle over her actions tonight, to determine if there had been an unspoken alluded to command or if the dressing down was a way to cover her tracks to the surface. Wincing he slung his rifle over his shoulder, his assault cannon lost during his flight. Quietly he crept out of the crew's quarters, he heard Dorne working in the med bay. He slipped past her and out of the ship.

 

 

He sighed, blinking his eyes. He needed to stop thinking about it, about her. Stomach growling he glanced around the small foreign cantina. Around him the aroma of cooking food floated but he did not see a single patron eating. He sighed and gripped his teacup tighter, probably reserved for people who had rooms. Which he didn't, all the rooms were filled for the night. Grimacing he took another sip of his tea, he was hungry, exhausted and hurt but he was not returning to the ship tonight, he was way to confused. He needed to sit to think things through, find some way to rationalize it all.

 

Rationalize it; he spat an angry laugh into his cup. How was he supposed to rationalize this? His commanding officer was related to a Sith Lord. Not only was she related, his Captain willingly rendezvoused with her on this planet to further her 'cousin's' interests. Her cousin. What a cousin. She moved with a lethal grace, spoke with a quiet authority; he imagined few ever challenged her. Admittedly he had been to busy staring when they met to even think a single argumentative thought. What he had been thinking, he felt his face warm, was far from argumentative. He still couldn't believe what he had done, that he had acted on it; he was losing his mind. How was he supposed to know when they met things were going to happen? How? When they met, he stared through the table as it replayed it in his head.

 

The air was crisp clean, carrying the foreign scents of the local flora and fauna. He detected a humanoid scent, there ahead of them in the valley below. He smiled, below them but within range were two figures, smelled to be female, cloaked in black robes. Sith. He brought his assault cannon to bear on them, in a few moments they would be history. He nudged his commanding officer and nodded with his head to their position.

 

Then his XO did something very strange. Her hand snaked out grabbing him on the arm, “Stand down Sergeant.”

 

“What?” He was floored. “Stand down, why? They don’t even know we are here.”

 

Her tone grew cold, “you have your order stand down.”

 

“But Sir,” he hissed, “it’s a clean shot.”

 

“Stand down!” she barked. He growled in frustration as he lowered his cannon. He watched the two black-cloaked figures below him and shook his head.

 

Suddenly the taller of the two looked up at their position, her eyes locked onto them. His XO’s hand tightened, he could feel the pressure through the durasteel. She snarled at him, “Not all Sith use hate, anger and rage.” He looked at her confused, what was she talking about? “Back up,” she hissed, pulling him away from the ledge. Below them the taller Sith motioned to the smaller, and then she was hurtling through the air at them, landing on bent knees with an earth cracking thud before them.

 

Gracefully she stood, lowering her hood. He stared at her stunned, extremely thankful for his helmet. He bit his lip as he watched her. She did not look like any Sith he had ever seen before. The Human had dark red hair framing an angular porcelain face that held the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen, a smile played along her full lips, causing those eyes to sparkle. Under her ebony robe, her blackened durasteel armor, was it durasteel? What kind of armor did Sith wear? Stars it didn't matter, the way it hugged those curves, he had this overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around that slender waist and bury his nose in her hair. She was barely half a hand shorter than he was, the perfect height, the perfect fit; he began to imagine the feel of that armor under his fingertips.

 

“I was wondering if you were going to assist dear cousin,” the Sith purred, snapping him out of his daydream and dropping him back on the ledge.

 

Cousin? What… what? He stared at her, how by the ancestors was that even possible? He stared at the Human in front of him, the Human.

 

He studied the woman quietly inhaling; she looked like his XO. They shared a similar stature; tall and athletic he begrudgingly admitted his XO shared the Sith's ample curves. The facial features were so similar, their noses, cheekbones and mouths were almost identical, almost, the Sith was actually smiling. But there was a blinding discrepancy; the woman standing in front of him was Human. His XO was Mirialan, well at least he always thought she was. She had dark olive skin, bright violet eyes and raven black hair.

 

His XO took off her helmet and smiled at the Human. “Of course I would come, family first,” she smiled, but there was no warmth on her face. He stared at her so confused.

 

“It is mutually beneficial dear cousin,” the Sith smiled, “it should be a quick in and out type of operation.”

 

His XO nodded curtly, “Of course,” she jerked her head toward the Sith still waiting below them.

 

“Ahh yes,” the redhead said, “we might want to give her a bit more room, she is a bit … new.” They backed up as the other Sith leapt to their position.

 

“Master,” the smaller brunette Human nodded to the older Sith as she lowered her hood. She turned to look at them.

 

His XO nodded to her, extended her arm, “Lieutenant Darksun,” she shook the Sith’s hand and gestured in his direction, “my second in command Sergeant Jorgan.”

 

Briefly he hesitated then nodded and removed his helmet. He reached out to shake their hands and his Lieutenant shot him a poisoned side glance.

 

The redheaded Sith caught the look, her eyebrow arching at the unexpected glare. She grasped his hand, “Lord Tyche and this is my apprentice Jaesa.” The smaller tanned woman gracefully bowed her head in greeting.

 

He was baffled, his commander had a Sith Lord for a cousin. How was that even possible? He stared at them side by side, if it was not for the colouring they looked as if they could be sisters. Did anyone even know, they couldn’t. If anyone had any idea they would have never allowed her to rise to such a prominent position, especially within Havoc. He watched them shocked, his commander was deferring to the Lord, dropping her head gesturing in his direction. The Sith looked in his direction before returning their attention to his XO.

 

The women started talking strategy, they were headed deep into Gormak Lands, something about blowing up a prototype starcraft. He tried to keep an ear tuned to their conversation, he tried but he was to preoccupied attempting to sort out the family tie. No wonder the Captain had threatened him if he told anyone about their trip down to the planet. He turned his back on them, walking to a higher vantage point and began to watch their position, lost in thought.

 

 

 

The sun was hanging heavy in the sky when they had decided on their final plan of attack. The decision was made to make camp here for the evening and leave at first light. He drew first watch, he was determined to be the only watch. He did not care if the dark Force users were playing friendly tonight, the entire situation was too surreal and he was not going to sleep around them.

 

He sat with his back up against a rough tree, eyes scanning the darkness, ears straining for foreign sounds. He practically jumped out of his skin when she spoke. “I will take over the watch get some sleep.”

 

It was the redheaded Sith. She was standing less than a meter away her hand resting on the tree. How had he not heard her approach?

 

He shook his head, “I’m not tired.” He shifted away from her, hand moving to his cannon.

 

She moved closer to him, standing beside him, looking out on the blackness stretched out before them.

 

Gracefully she knelt next to him, her hands folded in her lap. The wind picked up, it played with her black hood teasing it before it finally blew it backwards off her head.

 

The silence grew between them as she sat eyes closed next to him, he thought she might be meditating or whatever it was that Sith did. “Do you see it,” she whispered, eyes still closed. She pointed into the distance, there along the horizon was a crumbling ruin, deep within a white glow emanated.

 

He grunted acknowledgement, “What is it?”

 

Her head canted to the side, “It feels like some sort of temple, I love that about this planet so many things to discover,” the excitement in her voice was growing.

 

She opened her eyes, they glittered as she stared at him. He found himself leaning towards her using her arm as a sight to stare at the faintly glowing ruin. Her excitement was contagious he forgot himself as he leaned close to her, he felt her hot breath on his cheek as she whispered to him. “It’s a pity I won’t be able to go explore it.”

 

He turned to face her, and inhaled his breath catching in his throat, his face was centimeters away from hers. “Why, won’t you?” Surely if a Sith wanted to do something who could stop them?

 

She frowned, “I only have a limited window to be here.”

 

“Oh,” he dropped his eyes.

 

Moving back against the tree he busied himself with his weapon. Stars what was he doing, he should not let himself become that relaxed around her, she was a fracking Sith, regardless of the bizarre circumstances of this mission she was still the enemy. The fact she was so calm and collected meant nothing, that she spoke softly, it meant nothing. He ran experienced fingers along the barrel, double checking the power cells, rechecking the weapons calibration. It meant nothing that she looked nothing like any Sith he had laid eyes on before, that she was so pretty. Absolutely nothing, then why did it bother him she had to leave, he caught himself mourning the opportunity to go exploring with her.

 

From the depths of her robe a muted beeping sounded. She reached into a hidden inner pocket and pulled out a small holocom. She held a finger to her lips as her eyes locked onto his. She cued the communicator to life, the blue flickering image of a very large man, bare-chested, in sleep pants blinked into view. “M’ Lord,” the man rumbled.

 

She smiled at the projection, “Evening Lieutenant, is something the matter?”

 

“No m’ Lord, just checking in. Ship’s secure, cargo was delivered this afternoon.”

 

“Excellent, any other news?”

 

“No m’ Lord,” the hologram responded.

 

She nodded, moving to end the call when he cleared his throat. “Yes?” She looked at him red eyebrow arched.

 

“M’ Lord,” he hesitated, “you are in a secure location this evening?”

 

She smiled at him, “Yes Lieutenant.”

 

“Right…” he trailed off.

 

She tilted her head to one side staring at the man’s projection, “I will contact you tomorrow evening, update you to my status.” The man’s shoulders dropped in relief.

 

“Thank you, good hunting… Kit.” The man ended the call and his image blinked out of existence.

 

“They don’t know where you are?” he stared at her.

 

She shook her head no, “they don’t,” she whispered, as she scanned the darkness.

 

“Do you not trust him?” he chewed on his lip.

 

“My Lieutenant?” she questioned.

 

“Yea,” he grunted, baffled as to why she was hiding from her crew.

 

“I trust that man with my life,” she inhaled the cool air.

 

The silence grew again; it was comforting. He relaxed back against the tree watching the distant glowing ruin, wondering what lay within.

 

Warmth covered his hand, looking down he saw her fingers on his. “Can you show me?” she gestured to the large cannon cradled in his lap.

 

Taken aback he watched her, “You want to learn about an assault cannon?”

 

“Please,” she beamed, “I do enjoy learning something new, plus my Lieutenant really wants one of these. I have a distinct feeling it’s a very bad idea, but before I tell anyone no I do like to do my homework.”

 

“Possibly, Kit…” he let the word hang in the air.

 

“Ahh yeah that,” she smiled looking at the ground, “had he known I was not alone he would of addressed me properly.”

 

He raised an eyebrow waiting.

 

She smiled at him, “Kit’ar Darksun,” she tucked a loose lock behind her ear as she extended her hand to him.

 

He grasped her hand, “Aric Jorgan.” He stared at the woman; she definitely acted contrary to all he had ever been told.

 

“So can you?” she looked up at him hopeful. He nodded and she scooted closer, her hip barely brushing against his thigh, so she could see.

 

For the remainder of the evening they sat next to each other, she intently listened as he explained the basic and then the finer points of assault cannons, grenades and bombs. Occasionally she would ask a question or two but she mostly listened, as the night wore on they moved closer to each other. He was not sure who made the first move but by the time the breaking dawn filtered through the trees they were sitting next to each other her black robe draped around them to keep the chill off as they talked. Her body was warm as it leaned against him, her head rested on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her.

 

She moved suddenly. He looked at her concerned, “What is it?”

 

She shook her head frowning. It stuck a hidden cord within; it bothered him to see her frowning, what could be wrong? She stood up gracefully wrapping her black robe back around her body, hiding again her heavy durasteel and leatheris armor, concealing the saber hilt, the hilt his hand had rested on for part of the evening. She moved a respectable distance away and knelt, drawing her hood up and over her face.

 

Moments later a soft voice broke the morning’s silence, “Morning Master,” her apprentice stepped into the clearing between them.

 

“Morning Jaesa,” she murmured.

 

Her apprentice's mouth twitched with a repressed a smile as she looked from her Master to the Cathar and back again, “I trust you slept well.”

 

“Indeed, I did, did you Apprentice?”

 

“Yes Master,” the girl answered as she sunk to her knees besides the Sith Lord. Patiently the younger woman waited beside her master as Kit'ar gazed up into the fading ebony blanketing the sky, quietly whispering to the retreating stars. When she finished she dropped her head and closed her eyes, her action echoed by her student.

 

The two Sith began to mediate and he watched entranced, the air sparked and glowed around them, the apprentice was bathed in a golden light, the Sith Lord, no Kit he mentally corrected himself, was surrounded in crimson, it flickered and snapped around her. As they knelt the dawn blossomed, chasing away the inky remnants of the evening, flooding the sky with liquid waves of violets, blues and orange.

 

Whispering words drifted back to his straining ears, broken phrases teased and carried by the crisp morning breeze. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion… I gain strength, … I gain power. Through power I gain victory. … my chains are broken,” the last words were spoken with such conviction in their duel voices they carried with crystalline clarity, “The Force shall free me.”

 

He had been so absorbed in watching them he did not hear his XO approach. When she spoke she shattered the quiet, causing him to gasp and jump to his feet. She glared at him, “If you are done slacking off we have a mission to complete.”

 

“Yes Sir,” he mumbled as he turned to walk back into the camp.

 

He missed the scathing glare his XO shot her Sith Lord cousin, the neutral face that returned a pointed stare as the Sith Lord crossed her arms across her chest, he missed the apprentice laying a soft hand on her master’s shoulder.

 

He handed out the silver wrapped ration squares and bottles of water, before breaking down the tiny camp. Erasing all signs anyone had spent the night sheltered under the trees. He ate by himself, purposely putting distance between himself and the two Sith. His commander’s attitude improved, she actually smiled as she talked to the other women.

 

When they left the site, continuing on through the autumnal countryside, he had been in the rear of the group. As they talked their positions changed, when they neared the sprawling complex that was their objective in the heart of the Gormak Lands, he was walking shoulder to shoulder with the Sith Lord. He stole glances of her as they moved, her excitement was growing, her eyes glittered as she returned his sidelong glances.

 

When they split off to sneak into and through the compound he was surprised to find himself paired up with the redhead. He wondered what trick they had done to actually get his commander to pair off with the quiet apprentice. He was happy it happened though. Quietly he followed her though the compound slipping into and out of shadows watching as she distracted the sentries with flying rocks and distant noises.

 

Laid out below them was the objective, the shield generators as well as the hangar housing the Gormak’s prototype starship. If the ship was allowed to become operational then the city of Voss-Ka would be obliterated and the Gormaks would possess space travel. They were going to crater the entire operation. She was practically vibrating with excitement standing before the complex. She looked back over her shoulder gesturing for him to stand next to her.

 

“Hit all the generators first, so if anything goes south any air strike I call in will be able to destroy the hanger and ship easily.”

 

He nodded, a silent shiver running through him at the mention of Imperial bombers.

 

“Anything that moves,” her eyes locked onto his, “kill it.” He watched transfixed as those deep emerald pools took on a golden glow. She turned to move and glanced back at him, “oh try not to hit me with that thing,” she smiled.

 

He shook his head, “I know the difference between support and friendly fire.”

 

She laughed. “Good,” she winked, “I’m off to make some friends then.”

 

With that she ran out of the woods, sliding on bent legs down the hill, reaching the bottom she screamed the force of her yell shook the ground before her, she crouched down low and pushed off catapulting herself through the air. As she landed in a confused group of Gormaks her saber ignited, the pale blue blade danced through the air, slicing through the men as they stumbled trying to defend themselves. They fell at her feet within seconds. She stood her saber ignited at her side as she turned back to look up the hill at him.

 

Shaking his head he stared at her, she was beautiful in a powerful terrifying way, the black robes snapped around her as the wind blew, her hair pulling against its restraint, her body illuminated by the sky blue lightsaber clutched in her left hand. And then she was gone, running as fast as his eye could track towards the first generator. He slid down the hill after her, his cannon charging. Compelled to insure she had back up, that her actions were enforced with supporting fire.

 

 

He shuddered, it jerked him from his retrospective fog, he had given her the backup she needed and ended up being a liability. He was still unsure how she had known to move him, how she had been able to shove him so far away. The fur on his back shuddered and shivered flinching down his spine, perhaps it was best he didn't know, he was just grateful she had been there to save his ornery hide. He took another drink from his lukewarm tea scowling at the cup.

 

“A credit for your thoughts,” a quiet feminine voice nudged him, interrupting his rumination. He looked up and saw her. He stared dumfounded. She gestured to the seat next to him. He nodded watching her as she sat down. Her hair was loose, bangs framing her face; her robes and armor were missing, replaced with simple black slacks and a fitted dark green blouse. He stared, if he had not spent the last couple days with her he would of never known she was Sith.

 

She sat a delicate cup on the table folding her hands in front of her. “Things not going well?”

 

Now that was a massive understatement, he looked her over, feeling as though his entire world was in upheaval. He shook his head no, “I could not spend the night on the ship,” he sighed.

 

“She’s that upset is she?” she looked at him puzzled.

 

He nodded, “Yes.”

 

“Why, I did not think the two of you were … together.”

 

He sighed; his entire body shook from his shoulders, through his chest and down into his core. “We are not.”

 

A warm hand settled on his. He looked at the manicured fingers, the dark red polish shining. He shook his head again, “no I’m not with anyone.” He glanced at her, “You?”

 

Pain flashed across her face vanishing as quickly as it appeared. “No,” she whispered, “I’m not.” She looked up at him and smiled.

 

Her fingers laced through his, she picked up her cup and took a sip. She relaxed into the chair drinking her tea, while looking out over the cantina, watching the other patrons. He sat staring at his cup, enjoying the warmth of her fingers, when she spoke. “What is troubling you? Or do you wish to not speak about it?”

 

He chewed on his lip, a lot is troubling me, he thought, but how can I talk about the situation that has me so confused with the person who is the cause of the confusion? He shook his head, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

 

“Are you sure?” She glanced at him eyebrow arched. “It might help, and we can talk about things, within reason of course.” She smiled at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she winked at him.

 

“Is it really that obvious?”

 

“Yes, I'm afraid it is, at least to me. So,” her hand gently squeezed his, “what's the matter?”

 

He sighed hesitating; unsure what to tell her, where to even begin.

 

“Unless you truly wish to be left alone to sort things out, I can leave.” She shifted in her seat withdrawing her hand.

 

With her movement he caught the scent of ozone and herbs on the air, mingled with blaster oil, durasteel and musk. He could still smell himself on her. His hand snaked out grabbing hers. “Stay.” He squeezed her hand holding it while he stared through the table. Stars what the hell was he doing? Let go of her hand; let her go, what exactly do you think you are playing with, he yelled at himself. He looked up at her, she was still watching him her eyebrow arched, curious.

 

“Why?” he blurted.

 

“Do you regret my decision?”

 

What... he shook his head no, “I don't but I don't understand it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I know a Jedi would, but you... a Sith wouldn't save...” he bit his lip watching her, “I can understand a Jedi...” he stared at her, “if you were a … Jedi it …” he silently cursed himself.

 

“But I did, and I really would make a lousy Jedi,” the corner of her mouth twitched with a repressed smile.

 

He felt himself shaking. What he watched her do, how she fought, she was lethal, yet she avoided conflict when possible. She was so calm and laid back, quick to smile, he just didn't understand how someone like that could be a Sith. “But you don't act … you don't.”

 

The twitch became a full smile, “How am I supposed to act?” She leaned towards him, again his senses filled with their intermingled scents. He looked at her, chewing on his bottom lip. His fingers twitched ghosting over the memory of caressed leatheris, his lips warmed remembering hers.

 

He felt her breath on his cheek, as her fingers slowly ran along the side of his face. When had they gotten so close to each other? Cautiously he ran his fingers through her hair, down the soft skin of her cheek and neck. He realized he was trembling. Why wasn’t she a Jedi, it seemed like such a cruel joke. This would be a lot less surreal if she was a Jedi.

 

“Are you disappointed in my actions?”

 

“No,” he shook his head, “but a Jedi...”

 

“I am Sith,” she whispered, “I could never be anything else.” She kissed his cheek and leaned in her hair brushing his face as she whispered, “Because Jedi,” she pulled back and kissed his other cheek, “don’t follow,” she pulled back again, her green eyes were too close to his, “their passions.” His hand reached up grabbing the back of her head, he forcefully kissed her, his left arm pulling her closer.

 

He pulled her onto his lap, his mouth refusing to relinquish hers. He growled as he drug his hands along her back. She broke away and he pulled her back his growl louder, he recaptured her mouth, his tongue challenging hers. She pushed herself backwards, grabbing his arms. She leaned back against the table, flushed. Her hands tightened around his wrists pinning them against the chair. He snorted in pain. Her eyes glittered, black orbs ringed in green.

 

Her grip on his wrists tightened as she leaned forward, he pulled his head away. A low rumbling growl reached his ears as she squeezed tighter. Pain radiated down his arms, he turned his head to the side refusing her. “No,” he gasped as another wave of pain coursed down his arms. She shifted in his lap, fingers digging into his wrists.

 

He looked at her face, dark icy fingers clawed his stomach, her mouth was set in a determined frown, the eyes that stared back were shining gold. She stared at him; he felt her tense on his lap, muscles tightening. She looked like a nexu stalking its prey, a nexu he had put into his own lap. Again she leaned forward and he moved his head to the side maintaining eye contact. He tried to move his arms, she responded by tightening her grip, he grimaced as bones moved under her fingers. “No,” he breathed, moving his head further away.

 

The grip loosened slightly. He rolled his head toward her, ignoring the warm breath on his cheek. Fingers moved on his aching wrists, slipping down his arms. He moved his head toward her, her brow knit together as she stared at him. He rolled his wrists and broke his arms out of her grasp. His breath caught in his throat as he reached up cradling her face. “You don't hurt people you like.”

 

“Hurt,” she murmured, “I didn't...”

 

He rubbed his thumb along her cheek, “you did you hurt my wrists.”

 

“I didn't mean to.”

 

“Don’t know your own strength do you?” He stared at the Sith in his lap, the panicked look in her eyes. The thought occurred to him, how often was a Sith told no? He had a feeling that those who told one no never lived long enough to tell anyone.

 

He wondered why she looked so panicked, was she afraid he was going to just order her away, leave the cantina, head back to the ship? As he stared he realized he was right, she was afraid he was going to leave and she was just as unsure about what to do as he was.

 

“Don't hurt me,” he whispered. He rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks as he leaned in and kissed her. She nodded, running her hands along his chest. He grimaced inhaling sharply as he sat up.

 

She stared at him, “What? What happened?”

 

He shook his head, “It's okay, it's from earlier.”

 

“Earlier?” Her eyes narrowed as she gently touched his chest, frowning when he exhaled a snort of pain. “Have you not received medical attention from this morning?”

 

He shook his head, “No.”

 

“That...” she trailed off biting her bottom lip. “Do you hurt?”

 

He shook his head, “I will live, it’s nothing major.”

 

Her hands hovered above his chest, unsure where to light. He shifted slightly in the chair when her hands settled on his shoulders, her touch tender. Cautiously she leaned in, lips parted, silently asking. He watched as the gold faded from her eyes. Smiling he slid his arms around her. He gave her a small nod. Her kiss was so gentle it surprised him. “Come with me.” She slid off his lap, offering him her hand. He reached out accepting it, letting her help him to his feet.

 

She looked up at him, her fingers still claiming his hand, she looked so nervous. He forced his face to remain neutral, knowing he had caused her disconcerted state. He was afraid of disrupting the delicate situation they were in; leaning down he kissed her. “After you,” he whispered grabbing his bag and rifle. She turned and gently pulled him along up the stairs and to her room.

 

The room was spacious; a large bed already turned down graced the middle of the room. Against the far wall was a fireplace, a fire blazing within, the hearth surrounded by a pair of padded chairs and a small table. Bright rugs adorned the floor. When he followed her in she gestured vaguely around the room.

 

“Just make yourself comfortable.”

 

He dropped his bag on the floor near the bed and propped the rifle up against the wall. “Where?”

 

“Wherever.”

 

He walked up behind her where she stood at the small table a wine bottle and corkscrew in her hands. Gently he brushed her hair off the nape of her neck, bending to kiss the porcelain skin. Nose buried in her hair he inhaled deeply, relishing in the herbs and ozone that filled his senses. Running his hands down her arms he removed and set the corkscrew and bottle on the table.

 

She turned in his arms, smiling up at him. “Your eyes,” he murmured staring at them, gold was encroaching again through the deep green of her irises.

 

“I'm trying,” she whispered, her voice heady.

 

He picked her up kissing her neck as he carried her across the room setting her on the bed. Her fingers reached up unbuttoning his shirt; cautiously she reached out touching his bruised and battered chest, before sliding his shirt off his arms.

 

Gently she pulled him onto the bed, her fingers ghosting over his body as she nudged him to lie down. He sank backwards into the soft mattress as she knelt next to him, her glittering eyes scanning his chest.

 

He watched her intently; she closed her eyes and was slowly enveloped in a swirling red fog. He swallowed a surprised gasp. The fog flowed down her arms as it grew she reached out touching him, laying her hands on his chest. He flinched as the red fog flowed over his fur disappearing as it sank into him. It was warm, tingling as it burned away the pain. The ache in his head blossomed, the soreness in his back flared brightly sending a jolt through his spine as the heat grew. He gritted his teeth rolling his head back into the pillow. The fog's flames grew in intensity burning as they crept along his chest. And then it was gone, the red fog had disappeared along with his injuries.

 

He patted his chest the painful thick welts were gone. The insistent ache at the base of skull, the soreness in his back, gone. He stared at her eyes wide. She just shrugged and lay down next to him. Running cautious fingers through his chestfur Aric checked again, gone. “How,” he whispered.

 

She ran slow fingers over his now healed side. “The Force.”

 

He waited for her to elaborate but she fell silent her hand running random patterns through his fur. He relaxed under her wandering fingertips, watching manicured fingernails trace and travel the trim musculature of his torso.

 

“Come here,” he growled, rolling toward her, he swung his hip over hers straddling her. His clawed fingertips slid along her shimmersilk shirt, skimming along her chest tracing the musculature and surprisingly soft curves hidden underneath. “I have yet to properly thank you.” Gold eyes widened glittering as her lips captured his, kissing him deeply. He growled deep in the back of his throat as he returned her kiss his hands grasping hers. He smiled as he thoroughly enjoyed the taste of her upon his lips and this time there was no one to interrupt them.

 

~*~*~

 

When he woke he was alone, he frowned. Where had she gone? On the table there was a caf carafe, an empty mug and an assortment of fruits, cheeses, breads and little breakfast sausages. He poured himself a still steaming cup of caf and picked up a little sausage.

 

He noticed out of the corner of his eye the brand new white and blue durasteel breastpiece and backpiece on the floor propped up against the foot of the bed. He stared; absentmindedly he set the caf mug down as he bent to examine the armor pieces. Attached to the armor was a small handwritten note, penned on an actual piece of paper. Hands shaking, he opened the letter reading the neatly penned script: I do hope you like it. My personal holocommunicator is on the table, programmed to my Interceptor.

 

He stared at the letter reading and rereading it over and over. He slowly folded the note and set it on the table. Leaning over he hefted the armor up inspecting it, running his hand over the faint, freshly painted over, Imperial emblem on the shoulder and almost dropped it, hidden underneath was a brand new assault cannon. The sleek black weapon was a vast improvement over the one that had been lost. He was afraid to touch it, suddenly very afraid to accept these gifts. Mentally he calculated the cost and sat on the edge of the bed. He was not worth all this fuss. He wasn’t. But how to turn down a gift from a Sith? You don’t and you really don’t want to, but, he mentally chided himself, you need to get back before you are missed.

 

He slowly got dressed, picking up his clothes off the bed. Pulling on his boots he sat on the edge of the bed staring into space. He reached up to his neck unclasping a gold necklace, it was old, a hand-woven chain, dotted along its length were small stone beads and a clear crystal that looked like a claw. He rubbed the crystal between his fingers, briefly bringing it to his lips to kiss it. Looking around the room he looked for a place to leave it. Next to the bed sat her comb and other personal effects, perfect. He wrapped the chain around the comb.

 

Aric walked out into the morning light, wearing his armor, heavy leatheris bag and rifle slung over his shoulder as he carried his new cannon, he received a few curious glances but mostly was ignored. When he crossed over the massive covered bridge he entered the main part of the elevated city, the square was alive with vendors hustling their wares. That is when he saw them; he stood hesitating.

 

Across the way she stood, clothed in her robes, cloaked on either side by her entourage. Her apprentice stood by her left. A huge massive man in black and red durasteel armor covered her right; he recognized the insignia on his arm, Black Ops, that had to be the lieutenant from the holocall. Next to the soldier an azure skinned Twi’lek was looking over blaster modification parts.

 

He wanted to go to her, to thank her, to say good-bye. The man shifted closer to her as if he knew they were being watched. The soldier looked at the Sith Lord, Kit nodded to him. She turned her head to look at Aric, her face was impassive, completely neutral. His breath caught in his throat, his hand unconsciously went to her comm hidden in his pocket.

 

The other members of her crew had turned to watch him. The Twi’lek looked amused, her apprentice Jaesa stared at him with the same neutral expression of her Master, the large solider stepped closer to Kit his hand reaching over his shoulder. He radiated concern and protection. Aric drew himself up and squared his shoulders, back rigid he gave a curt nod to the distant Sith Lord. A brief smile played on her lips as she returned it, the motioned echoed by her apprentice, the soldier dropped his hand and the Twi’lek grinned.

 

He turned and walked though the open market, heading to the covered bridge that would take him into the Republic’s section of the city. As he walked past them he could not help himself, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. His eyes caught and held hers, she flashed him a quick sad smile, and then he was past her, she was behind him out of his field of vision. He felt her eyes burning on his back as he entered the darkened bridge, he felt her gaze long after they were left behind in the market and he arrived at the Republic shuttle pad.

 

 

 

AN

 

The Prompt for this one was Worlds Colliding. To be honest I am not fond of this installment either, I wasn't happy with it back in '13 when I posted it. Since it has already been posted, I decided not to attempt to rewrite it. Hopefully it is not to jarring. Originally I had parts of it in Italic, I decided this time, I not only kept it in Italic but I put them in colour.

 

 

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Ahh nothing like getting the creeping crud to put a kink into your pinanta making. It will be done just in time for the kiddos to smash it to smithereens tomorrow though :D

 

Here is the next one, early, since the before mentioned kiddos will be getting my attention tomorrow.

 

No spoilers :) And this one is shorter.

 

CHAPTER 21

 

Year 3636 the following morning.

 

VOSS

 

“Master.” She heard her apprentice's quiet voice and ignored it. She looked out over the Alien Enclave's Market Place, a small smile on her lips. Next to her Vette muttered to herself as she looked over the blaster modifications laid out on the merchant's table.

 

“Master,” again her apprentice spoke she was standing near her shoulder. Looking back at the smaller woman she raised her eyebrow.

 

“Master what are you doing?” Jaesa stared at her a confused look on her face.

 

“Enjoying this lovely morning.”

 

“Enjoying this lovely morning...” she echoed.

 

“It is a lovely morning, the sun is shining, the sky is amber and cloud free.” She gestured above them, the clear honey coloured sky, Voss' orbiting celestial bodies visible with stunning clarity. “I do think I am going to take a walk as well, care to join me?” She turned her head to better see her apprentice, the woman looked a bit tense, no not tense really, flustered, definitely flustered. She smiled at her and winked, before walking off.

 

Behind her Vette called, “Have fun, don't go and pick any fights or anything.”

 

Quickly the brunette fell in step next to her. “Master,” she hissed, “seriously what are you doing?”

 

“Walking Jaesa, I do it every day, as do you.” Next to her she heard an explosive sigh.

 

“Master I don't mean to question your actions...”

 

“Pity,” she cut Jaesa off, “I would, I mean walking on a day such as this what am I thinking?”

 

“No Master,” she hissed again, “the trooper...”

 

“Oh... those actions, I would be more than happy to fill you in on those, I’ll even give you pointers,” she grinned into the depths of her hood. She felt the embarrassment roll off the younger woman, without looking she knew her cheeks were blooming crimson.

 

“Kit'ar!” The woman exploded, stopping in her tracks hands thrown up in the air.

 

Kit stopped next to her, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “Yes?” She turned her head to watch her apprentice.

 

“He's a trooper! In the Republic Army... what are you thinking?”

 

Oh, she thought, I really should do this more often, her apprentice was really way to easy to antagonize. “Well... I'm thinking you really missed out having to work with my cousin, you should of seen the way he handled his cannon... quite impressive.” She watched Jaesa's cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red, which slowly blossomed into a lovely shade of rose growing along her face. Interesting, wonder how red I can get her if I put real effort into it.

 

“Kit,” she squeaked, “I’m being serious, he's a Republic Spec Force Trooper, what are you thinking, you can't have everything!”

 

“I can't?” Kit'ar blinked at her apprentice, radiating innocence.

 

“No you can't!” she huffed.

 

“Oh, pity, someone should of said something, because I have already had him,” she winked at Jasea. Jaesa began sputtering her hands opening and closing, fluttering like small flightless birds, as she struggled for words. Smirking Kit'ar resumed walking.

 

She closed her eyes tilting her head back enjoying the sun on her face. Smiling happily she continued along the patch, stepping onto the covered bridge that spanned the giant expanse to the other mountain peak. Quietly counting to herself she shook her head, five, four, three, two, on one she heard rapid footfalls behind her.

 

“Oh Master you have to be joking,” she sounded almost desperate.

 

Seriously what was the matter? “Not at all,” she shrugged, “had him a few times actually, it was quite the eventful evening. If all those Spec Force guys have that kind of stamina I might have a new hobby.” She flashed her apprentice a smile, which grew larger when Kit saw her face. Jaesa looked like she might explode. The blushing had crept across her entire face and down her neck, her cheeks a furious dark red. Her hands kept fluttering at her sides. The poor thing looked like she was in the process of short-circuiting. Extremely entertaining. “What's the matter Jaesa?”

 

“What's the matter? Master! You, you...” she sputtered. “You slept with him!”

 

“I did, he didn't seem to mind. He likes to cuddle afterward, was one of the most restful nights I have had, all warm and cozy.”

 

“Master,” Jaesa squeaked.

 

Kit frowned, now what was the matter with that, I was being serious. Mental note to self, I need to push my apprentice to fall a bit more, she's a bit to uptight. She sighed, “What's the matter, honestly. He came to my room after we saw each other in the cantina, what do you think he's going to get into trouble?”

 

“Yes! I am, I saw the gifts you bought him, gifts! Master why gifts?” Jaesa seemed to be relaxing a smidge; she had stopped stuttering.

 

“Because,” Kit smiled, “I would like another night should I run across him again.”

 

“Another night?” Jaesa stared at her.

 

“Well yes, I would really like that. Plus I had to thank him, I mean he was so sincere with his gratitude it would be rude not to return the thought.”

 

“Gratitude? What are you talking about?” Jaesa hesitated then took a step closer to her.

 

Kit frowned, “I was not paying enough attention to him, a Gromak almost killed him. Launched a plasma grenade at him, I managed to move him out of the way but it was a close call. It was my fault I should not of let myself get distracted.”

 

Jaesa nodded, “I wondered what happened to his armor.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Does he know who you are?”

 

Kit shook her head, “Only what we told the two of them for the opp. I didn't see the point in making it more complicated.”

 

“More complicated,” Jaesa sputtered, “Master if you run into him again, this happens again...” her hands fluttered as she gestured at Kit. “What do you think is going to happen if he finds out you are the Emperor's Wrath? I'm sure in his mind he just rationalized you are some kind of Fallen Jedi or Sith Lite, especially considering the fact you run around with a blue saber.”

 

She chuckled to herself, Sith Lite, I like that, she mused. “Yeah,” she muttered, coming to a stop as she rubbed her temple.

 

Kit sighed, “I don't know but I will cross that bridge when I come to it.” She turned to Jaesa and smiled, “Speaking of bridges, help me give these guards a small bit of amnesia.”

 

“What,” Jaesa stopped and looked around, her jaw dropped open when she realized where they were. “Master what are you...”

 

Kit held up her hand, “Please don't make me issue it as a command, I have not been this happy in a long time. I can feel him, he is just up ahead, I want to say goodbye.”

 

 

She took a deep breath and lowered the shields she had raised around herself. She looked at her apprentice and nodded. The brunette sighed and closed her eyes. She felt the gentle probing touch of her apprentice. Moments later Jaesa opened them, “I am sorry Master,” her tone subdued. “It's also not very nice to tease me like that.” Kit smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

 

Jaesa took a breath composing herself and walked over to the guards who had moved from their posts to stand shoulder to shoulder while the two Sith had talked. She spoke quietly to the guards, her hand movement subtle, her words lost to the wind. Both the men nodded and return to their posts.

 

Grinning she walked up to her apprentice, flashing the guards a smile.

 

“He is over here, I won't take to long.” Her apprentice followed her into the small garden pausing at the entrance. Sitting on the bench was the Cathar. He was encased in blue and white durasteel, helmet resting next to him on the bench, working on the new black assault cannon. Quietly she walked up on him, using the Force to muffle her footsteps.

 

“So, how did I do picking it out?” She whispered. He jumped, fumbled with the weapon and set it down on the wooden bench next to him as he bolted to his feet.

 

“Kit'ar,” he breathed.

 

She smiled looking up at him, “The new chestplate looks good, tried to match the blue from memory.” Cautiously she reached out running her hand over his shoulder. “I did try to cover the crest, it looks like it will take another coat of paint.” Slowly she moved her hand away. She took a breath to center herself; he was as amped up as she was, the emotions that rolled around him were a heady intoxicating rush.

 

He grabbed her hand, pulling it back to his chest. He slid his other hand into her hood cupping her cheek. Carefully he looked around them, when he didn't see anyone he pulled her closer, knocking her hood as he bent to kiss her. As she stood on her toes to meet him her hood fell to her back, her auburn hair spilling to her shoulders, it shined like fire in the sunlight.

 

When they broke she grinned, “I take it you like them Aric?” She tightened her grip on his back and pulled him with her into the shadows of the building.

 

“Yes,” he growled, “very much so, and I thought you were not listening.” She crinkled up her nose at him. He chuckled. “I’m keeping the crest,” he dropped his eyes contemplating something on the ground. When he looked back at her she felt a huge swelling of sadness. His eyes locked onto hers, “as a reminder.”

 

His voice growled as he spoke. She pulled him deeper into the shadows, into the comforting darkness of the trees and building, she suddenly felt very exposed. “Don't like the light huh?” He whispered.

 

She smiled, “You can do more in the shadows.”

 

He studied her face, “It's alright, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

 

She stared at him, surely he didn't mean that... if he did, that …

 

He tightened his grip on her, kissing her, demolishing her tram of thought, it disintegrated as she focused on him. Oh the emotions rolling off of him, the happiness, the lust, the want, the sadness they were beyond distracting, she wanted to stay. He bit her, causing her to groan in response, which caused another emotional spike, which in turn caused her to groan again. Oh she needed to stop this, she was not in a place to take advantage of this, and with her luck they were going to attract the attention of other Force users.

 

“Aric,” she gasped, “Aric.” He just grunted in response. “No Aric look at me.” He removed his head from the crook of her neck where he had been kissing her. “We can't be doing this here, if someone especially a Jedi was to see us, that would be bad. I was told I could not get into any fights today.” She smiled at him.

 

He frowned but nodded his head. “So this is goodbye.”

 

“No,” she shook her head, “not goodbye, we will meet again.” She smiled. She ran her left hand over his fine furred cheek, kissing him gently. Breaking the kiss before they became entangled she backed a half step away and raised her hood. “Until then.”

 

As she walked away she felt them, moving through the grounds, two Force sensitive signatures headed to their location. Jaesa moved to stand next to her, quickly the two women headed to the bridge's entrance walking as fast as possible without drawing attention. As they crossed into the bridge's shadows she heard Aric's voice. “No, there has not been anyone here, I have just been here recalibrating my weapon. Yes I’m positive Master Jedi, the only person to visit the gardens as been me, just ask the guards.”

 

 

AN

 

Prompt was Morning After.

 

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You maneuvered Aric into a position where it's absolutely believable he'd fall for a friendly Sith. Seeing Kit act with her crew, he must be painfully aware about the deficiencies of his own CO. The higher ups turning a blind eye has to be very frustrating. When the only kindness he receives comes from a former Imperial and a Sith that has to shake his faith in the Republic. I think it's easy for him to lose sight of the bigger picture.

 

Looking forward to the next part. And of course to more flustered Jaesa :D

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Happy Halloween, Happy Samhain everyone. Be safe while out getting goodies tonight.

Oh and the pinata was smashed and jumped on, utterly broken and the kids had a blast.

 

:D Over 2k views, I don't know what it is but I get so tickled when I see the counter go up. I know I'm a dork but I get excited.

 

Frauzet

 

I was hoping that it would be believable. When I decided to write this, I really wanted it to seem plausible. I also never intended to share this on the Forums, it was just something I did for fun, so to hear that I achieved what I was trying to do is great.

 

Aric is definitely in the position to see the glaring discrepancies and it really has him doing things he wouldn't normally do. The higher ups not acting on what has happened is only pushing him down that path.

His faith is going to be tested, most definitely.

 

I will try to work on more flustered Jaesa, it was a lot of fun to write. I do not know if I will be able to, but I will try.

 

 

This one is not new, sorry. It is another cross post from the AU thread. I do believe the one after this is new though. :)

 

 

Spoilers

Pub quests on Coruscant Boom and Gree: Hydrosupply leak as well as pub Taris, Pirate Medicine

 

 

CHAPTER 22

 

 

 

Year 3636, two days later

 

VOSS

 

He walked slowly through the crowded plaza looking for someplace quiet to sit. Clutched in his hands were a small cup and a bag of Voss street food. Aric honestly had no idea what it was, but it did smell good and it was meat, all he really needed to know. Up ahead between the buildings he saw a small path that split away from the bustle and slipped into a shadowed corridor. Smiling he headed onto the darkened path following it to its destination.

 

The path deposited him in a quiet area of the city; around him trees grew, benches dotted the manicured lawn. Flowers grew with organized randomness, bright pops of colour along the path and around the trees. As he wandered the lawn looking for a place to eat he saw a black robed figured sitting on the lawn and stopped. Sith.

 

Taking in a deep breath he tried to catch their scent, but they were downwind. Cocking his head to the side he stared eyes narrowed, watching. The figure stretched before him, the ebony hood lowered to reveal dark auburn hair. Their head tilted back revealing a familiar face. Her eyes were closed as she soaked up the bright Voss sun on her upturned face. The bright sparkle of gold glittered from the base of her porcelain throat. He smiled; she was the last person he had expected to run into.

 

Walking up to her he paused a respectful distance away; quietly he cleared his throat. She cracked open an eye and peered up at him. She grinned, “Aric, this is a pleasant surprise.”

 

He returned her smile, “I was looking for a quiet spot to eat.”

 

“You are more than welcome to eat with me,” she patted the ground next to her.

 

He walked next to her and sat down on the grass. He proceeded to open the bag pulling out his lunch.

 

“What are you having?” She peered at his lap.

 

“No idea, it's hot and smells good. To bad all they have around here is this tea stuff.” He scowled.

 

“You don’t like tea?” She frowned slightly.

 

“Not really, no.”

 

“Let me guess you are a caf guy?”

 

He smiled, “How did you guess?”

 

She just shook her head and reached out her hand, “Let me try it.”

 

“You sure? Its pretty awful.” He wrinkled his nose.

 

“Pretty sure I can handle it.”

 

“Alright,” he handed her his cup.

 

She took a sip and grimaced, “Well no wonder you don’t like it, it's so strong it would strip the hide off a bantha. Here,” she reached over to a tray sitting next to her, picking up a brightly coloured tea pot she poured a steaming amber liquid into a cup. He watched her drop a small spoonful of sugar into the cup, stirring as she poured some milk.

 

She held the cup out to him. Cautiously he accepted it. She watched smiling at him. When he hesitated staring at the gently steaming cup she frowned slightly and nodded her head to the cup. It certainty did smell better than the cup he had, slightly sweet and flowery. He took a small sip. “Oh hey, that's not to bad.”

 

She laughed, “You are welcome. If you ever want to drink it again, don't over brew it, tea only takes a few minutes, I'd say four tops. Unless you want a bitter sludge you can use to clean converter couplings.”

 

Rolling his eyes, he grunted as he took another sip. Setting the cup on the ground he proceeded to open and paw through the bag. It was filled with thin golden brown strips of fried meat; the aroma was mouthwatering. Grabbing a small strip on top he popped it into his mouth, it was crunchy and salty, unknown herbs slid across his tongue, “Oh these are good.” He promptly grabbed another fried little strip of goodness shoving it into his mouth.

 

“There should be a dipping sauce in there as well, I recommend it, very tasty.”

 

He looked and located the little bowl hidden at the bottom of the bag. Opening up the bowl he sniffed the clear dark brown liquid, it smelled even better than the meat. He balanced the bowl on his right knee and resumed eating, dipping a strip into the savory sauce. His stomach rumbled in response. Next to him he heard her giggle.

 

“Do they not feed you?”

 

He wrinkled up his nose, “Ration bars, don't usually get real food stocked on the ship unfortunately.”

 

“Oh,” she sounded farther away. Looking behind him he noticed she was laying back on the grass, knees bent, feet flat, a datapad propped up on her lap. “That's a pity, I pretty much demand a stocked galley.”

 

He grunted in response, that didn’t not surprise him, he had a feeling Sith usually got whatever they wanted. Sadly his lunch disappeared quickly. Frowning he looked at his empty lap, he wanted more but it was a long walk back and he didn’t want to leave just yet.

 

“I'm surprised to see you here.” Kit'ar nudged him with her knee. He turned to look at her. “I would of thought that Urania would of pushed off by now, she seemed pretty annoyed at being asked to come here.”

 

He frowned, “The Captain has decided to stay, she has been enjoying the attention the cratered spaceship is generating for her.”

 

“Ahh well that explains it then.” She sighed.

 

“As long as she's getting attention she's happy,” his voice sounded more bitter than he intended.

 

“Really? She acts like this often?”

 

He snorted. “She thinks the galaxy revolves around her, if there is a way to receive personal recognition she will do it.” He scowled at his empty lunch bag in his lap.

 

“You don’t like your commanding officer do you?” Her voice was quiet, gentle.

 

“She gets the job done, the brass loves her.” The bitter edge sharpened.

 

“But you don’t like her.” She gently asked.

 

He sighed. “No I don’t. Her methods are … questionable. As long as she gets the results our General wants no one seems to care.”

 

“It bothers you. What has she done that is questionable?” Her voice was so steady, soothing.

 

What has she done, he thought to himself, what hasn’t she done? I shouldn’t say anything I shouldn’t. He looked back at her; she had sat up, arms draped over her knees, watching him. He dropped his eyes back to his lap and took a huge breath.

 

“We had a layover on Coruscant. She decided to help with a … problem in the Hydrosupply Station. We came across these kids, completely on their own; they had been using the hydrosupply. The older one, a real feisty kid tried to run us off. When he asked her for credits she got violent. She actually shot at the kid. The boy managed to grab his sister and run off.”

 

“It bothered me, a lot, they were just kids, orphans. I know they should not of been down there but the way she handled it was excessive. I managed to track them down, I slipped them enough credits to make a difference and gave the boy an old holdout blaster I had.”

 

Aric sighed rubbing his head. “Couple days later we were approached by a Security Captain to assist with a situation. A local gang had rigged supplies to blow whenever civilians tried to access them. She actually found it funny. Asked me if I wanted to place any bets with her that someone would get blown up before she disarmed all the bombs.”

 

“Her attitude made me realize all the unproven circumstantial stories about her, they were true. When we were both stationed on Ord Mantell things happened. Nothing that can be proved but people who made her unhappy had a habit of disappearing. Made me realize just how low of a value she placed on a person's life.”

 

He looked back over his shoulder at her, those green eyes stared at him sympathetic. “The little boy,” she asked, “what is his name and how is he doing now?”

 

“Waarin, he and his sister Jena are doing a lot better. I found them a better place to live, in a home for orphaned kids. They are both back in school. He sends me periodic mails letting me know how they are doing.”

 

“That’s good news,” she smiled at him. Her hand reached out and rubbed his shoulder. “She has not done anything to you has she?”

 

He shuddered dropping his head to his chest. Of course she has, he bit his lip, but should he tell?

 

“Aric?” Her voice nudged him.

 

He nodded his head. The words tumbled out before he was able to stop himself. “When we were on Taris she was convinced by a Doctor Cel to help her get this ancient rakghoul vaccine, produced before the bombardment. We managed to track down an ancient sample from Dynamet General, in the Hospital's basement.” His mouth grew dry, swallowing he forced himself to continue. “I thought we were finished. I … I was wrong.”

 

“That night we were outside the main resettlement zone, I ended up setting up camp in a relatively secure location and went to sleep. The Lieutenant, she had first watch. I was so stupid. I slept without my armor on, but I thought I was safe, the Lieutenant was in such a good mood, she assured me we were secure. I vaguely remember waking up when she injected me with something. Everything started to swim and then this horrible screeching noise filled the air. I heard them respond, their answering screams.”

 

“The camp was flooded by rakghouls, they were everywhere and then they saw me. They howled and swarmed me, I could not find my weapons they were missing. I had to fight them fang to fang claw to claw. It … it,” he shuddered. “I can still taste the filthy monsters. I somehow managed to kill them, I still don’t know how. I remember falling to the ground, hearing her call for an evac team and then everything went black.”

 

“When I woke up I was in a cell, restrained on a medical bed. Everything hurt; I was covered in bandages. I remember shivering even though I was burning up. I was so hot. They left me in there, watching. I remember the constant beeping of monitors; that was the only sound, no one would speak to me. They just stared and took notes.”

 

“Then the real pain started, it was excruciating it felt like every nerve was on fire, my muscles constantly cramping. It became so hard to string coherent thoughts together, all I wanted was to get loose.” He closed his eyes swallowing, pushing away the remembered agony as his hide flinched and rolled. Her hand gently rubbed his shoulder, steady and supportive. Taking a deep breath he continued.

 

“At some point I managed to break the bed; I started pacing in the cell, yelling beating on the forcefield. The pain from the shock was nothing compared to what I was feeling. I just focused on escaping, so focused I didn’t care my fur was starting to fall out in clumps. Then... then it got worse, I collapsed to my knees screaming, unable to move. The screams they did not sound normal, they sounded like one of them, I sounded like one of them. I think I passed out, everything just … stopped.”

 

“When I woke up I was again restrained on a bed. I heard them talking complaining. They were upset that they had to work with the antibodies in my system. How much more work it was to extract what they were looking for in an alien biological sample. Why couldn’t it of been a Human or at least a baseline Human that had gotten and beaten the infection, instead of a humanoid?”

 

“The damn doctors were mad that I was not Human,” he hissed, “I had managed to survive getting infected with that foul plague and they were complaining that they had more work to do.” A sharp crack echoed through the air, a slicing pain slid across his palm. Blinking he looked down at his now bleeding hand, it was covered in glass shards and the remnants of the dipping sauce. When had he picked up the bowl? He watched as blood, sauce and glass shards dripped onto his grey fatigues.

 

“Are you okay?” Her hand touched his arm, “Let me see.”

 

Shaking he moved his right hand to her outstretched waiting fingers. He watched as she poured warm water over his hand and gently picked out glass shards. He gritted his teeth in anticipation as he watched the warm red fog flow down her arms and onto his bleeding palm. The burning warmth penetrated his hand and the wound slowly knit itself closed.

 

“You are strong to have been able to survive that.” She gently rubbed his palm tracing the faint scar that remained.

 

“They didn’t appreciate it,” he growled.

 

“But I do,” she gently kissed the palm of his hand. “Strength is always appreciated and rewarded.” She kissed his palm again. He sat there staring at her porcelain thumbs rubbing his cinnabar palm, her ruby red nails shining in the bright Voss sun.

 

“They were able to produce a new vaccine, she … she negotiated a deal with the Doctor, a percentage of the sales. The Doctor was to sell it to the highest bidder. The Captain did not care to have it produced to inoculate soldiers or civilians; she wanted credits. Just credits. I almost, … I could have been, and she did it for the chance to make credits.”

 

Her thumbs stopped moving; they tightened their grip on his hand. He looked up. Her face was emotionless but her jaw was clenched as if she was trying to forcefully refrain from speaking what was on her mind. Her eyes were laced with gold; he stared at her uncertain. Her hands released his palm and caressed his cheeks. As he leaned in to meet her kiss, he wondered in the back of his mind, what irreparable damage he just caused with his inadvertent confession.

 

 

 

AN

I believe the prompts were confessions and food.

I also tried to edit it so it contained different bit of the story from Taris, instead of rehashing everything that happened to him there.

 

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Good Morning Everyone, trying to wake myself up before I have to head into work. Subbing the wee tiny Pre'K kiddos today. Also working on my second cup o caf this morning, that helps too.

 

This one is definitely new, not a cross post! Thisone is also a bit long so you might want to get yourself some caf too.

 

Spoilers

 

For the pub bonus series on Voss, their planetary quest.

 

 

CHAPTER 23

 

 

 

Year 3636 ten days (two weeks) later

 

NIGHTMARE LANDS: VOSS-KA

 

The whispers pulled at him, hissing in his ear, laughing taunting him with details of his demise. Shaking his head he pushed on. The whispering grew into ragged laughter; words filled his vision, flowing script dancing twisting before his eyes. As the voices hissed the words, the elegant script flared to life burning brightly before turning to dust and dropping onto his body, covering it in a sticky thick blackened film.

 

“No, no,” he mumbled, mouth thick, tongue heavy as he tried to brush the material off his armor, it burrowed through, leaving freezing holes that burned to the touch. Yowling in pain he ran forward deeper into the thick tangled trees. The twisted branches creaked as they reached for him, clawing grabbing sliding as they hit his armor unable to find purchase.

 

He tripped over the uneven ground landing on his knees, franticly searching; searching for … what was he searching for? Laughter erupted from behind him, low cackling that froze the fur on his neck, the laughter grew hands and wrapped them around his body. A hoarse roar on his lips as he struggled.

 

The whispers grew forming words he did not understand, they taunted him, driving him forward deeper into the tangled brush. “Jenwoyunoks dwomut, jenwo. Koshû kotswinot.” More laughter, icy fingers clawed at him, burning through his armor as if he were naked, shredding the durasteel laying his hide bare. He watched blood drip down through his shredded vambraces; slow crimson rivulets. Howling he ran ducking; branches, vines and leaves whipping his bare face drawing blood, blinding him.

 

In front of him a thick mist coalesced, thickening into a shifting humanoid form, blood dripping from a thousand cuts. Smoke drifted up from the debris choked forest floor from the countless droplets. The laughter drifted on the back of the bloody smoke, “Jidaiyunoks, Jenqû kotsjenwin, saaraiwinottoi yuntok? Sarrainukutottoi.” Floating on flayed feet the figure advanced on him, hands outstretched “Qoqûsarraiyatul.” The trees began to laugh, it echoed building burrowing itself into his head.

 

He struggled, roaring; falling forward he managed to get his feet under his body. Planting his hands on the rotting foul vegetation he pushed himself forward, running on all fours scrambling to put distance between himself and the disembodied voices.

 

A deep rolling pushed through the forest floor shaking him as he ran, “why do you fight it, she sent you here to die.” Skeletal hands reached up and grabbed him throwing him onto his face as they clamped down on his wrists and ankles. Cold leeched into his armor burning as it wrapped itself around and through his limbs.

 

Screaming he tried to free himself, the icy fingers burrowing through his flesh, freezing his bones, the incorporeal claws pulling him down into the putrid soil. Slowly the bleeding mist surrounded him, cutting him slicing through his armor, he screamed as the remaining ravaged durasteel disintegrated under the mist's lich-like touch, blood oozed from his entire body dripping from freezing gouges and cuts. As it dripped onto the rotten floor it began to smoke joining the bleeding mist.

 

As the floating flayed figure approached, the mist flowed over his ravaged hide, it thickened blackened. Screaming a voiceless scream he struggled to move as the mist covered him. His entire body was encased, he tried to force his arms his legs to move but he was held cocooned in the darkness, he was powerless.

Floating in front of him the figure flared with a blood red light, the space around it darkened, its eyes materialized in the depths of its ragged hood, twin flames stared at him laughing. “Qoqûsarraiyatul,” it whispered. Its hands reached out grabbing his head. A low cackle filled the air reverberating off the trees and through the ground as it sunk its talons into either side of his head.

 

He tried to scream but his throat produced no sound, he could not take his eyes off the apparition. Blinding white pain flashed through his head knocking him into a field of darkness, the apparition’s eyes the only light. The apparition raised its arms, violet lightning streaked towards him. It slammed into him, for a split second he felt nothing, then every nerve in his body howled, sparks jumped across his vision.

 

It laughed and lightning hit him again. He jerked as his body spasmed, it burned arcing through his flesh. Cackling it threw another blast of lightning at him.

 

He crumpled to the ground, collapsing as he was hit again. Then he felt himself being pulled, he watched, as he was drug towards the apparition leaving his smoking husk of a body on the ground behind him. Again he was struck as he struggled to stand, the lightning flowed over him, coursing around him as the pain drove him to his knees. His blackened fur began to float away. It moved with the lightning creating a pitch like cloud around him, thick, heavy and black it clung to him, dripped off of his frame forming long robes on his body.

 

Looking down, he scrambled away from the apparition; he had seen these robes before they belonged to the redheaded Sith. “No,” he shook his head. Laughter followed him as he backed away. He reached for his assault cannon. The weapon disintegrated in his hands; flaking corroded dust drifting into the empty void. Desperate he searched for a weapon. Clawed fingertips grazed a metal hilt, grabbing the vibroknife he pulled bringing it in front of him, standing.

 

As his thumb hit the activation switch the knife began to hum, then the blade burned away, flaking as a crimson edge extended through it. In horror he stared at the lightsaber in his hand. “No,” he yelled, it was a ragged whisper on his lips. He threw the weapon away and watched as a second blade emerged from the hilt.

 

Low laughter filled the air; he looked away from the still glowing doublebladed saber just as the apparition unleashed another round of lightning at him. He threw his hands in front of him to block the attack, fluidly he gathered the lightning and threw it back. It disappeared absorbed into the darkness. “No… impossible,” he shook his head.

 

The apparition smiled, fire flooding out of its lip-less mouth, “Sarrai.”

 

He backed away tripping over the robes, falling he struck his head. Flashes danced in his vision, the darkness in the void grew, overwhelming him, as the apparition advanced on him.

 

“Jenwoyunoks,” it breathed as it drew closer. It raised its arms over its head, when it brought them down a huge wave pushed out and slammed into him, knocking him into the depths of the void. His vision clouded to black as the darkness absorbed him.

 

Whispered sounds floated through the darkness. Slowly they formed words, words he understood. Groaning he moved his arm. Panic gripped him he was not able to move. Heaviness sat on his chest, his arms forced to his sides.

 

Growling he cracked open an eye desperate to free himself. The bright light that greeted him forced his eye shut.

 

“Oh good your finally awake.” Next to him he felt a weight settle; the light seemed to fade. Warm soft hands touched his forehead, his neck; the suppressive weight was pulled back from his chest. Groaning he picked up his arms, holding them up in front of them he forced himself to open his eyes and look. They were unscathed, blinking he stared. But that’s not what I remembered, he thought confused.

 

“It’s okay,” the soft voice told him, he looked to its source and stared. It was Kit’ar.

 

“How?” he stopped, licking his parched lips, “how did…”

 

She looked down at him and smiled. “Shhh it’s alright, don’t try to talk. Here,” she held a cup to his lips, “drink.”

 

The odor of crushed herbs drifted into his face, carried by a warm draft of steam. The taste was foreign, the liquid slightly sweet and soothing. Carefully she held the cup, tipping it just long enough for him to get a drink. Slowly the cup was drained; he had tried several times to take it from her, but she simply shook her head refusing him.

 

He leaned back into the bed, confused, how had he ended up here with her? She moved next to him on the mattress setting the cup on the nightstand. She slipped off the bed turning to pull the blankets up, tucking them under his chin.

 

He stared at her. “How,” he asked.

 

She shook her head no, “not now I will explain later, you need to sleep.”

 

“But,” he protested.

 

Again she smiled and shook her head, “get some sleep I will be here when you wake.”

 

She walked across the room and settled herself into a large chair by the fireplace. Blinking he looked around the room, it seemed so familiar. His eyes started to grow heavy; he shook his head trying to fight it. The chair creaked as she moved, his eyes snapped to her watching her pick up a datapad, she smiled at him across the room. His eyes closed he was unable to open them; he sank further into the pillows as sleep claimed him.

 

Frantic he woke, grabbing clawing at the hands that held him. “Easy, it’s alright.” Her voice, he was in her room, he was okay. Slowly he opened his eyes, he was wrapped snugly in a brightly coloured blanket, she was standing next to the bed by his chest. She knelt placing her hand on his forehead, smoothing the fur. “You’re okay, you’re in my room.” Her brow was furrowed a frown on her lips as she checked him over.

 

She looked horrible, as if she had not slept in days, her auburn hair haphazardly pulled back loose locks tucked behind her ears, her green eyes looked so weary, sunk into dark bruise like shadows. “It’s all right, don’t move, you’re in my bed your okay.”

 

“How, how did I get here?” he was so confused. He didn’t know what was real the apparition in the void or this room and her.

 

“I have you, I brought you here, you are safe.”

 

“But, it… it hurt me, it...” shaking he swallowed, forcing himself to calm down, “how did you find me?”

 

She smiled running her hand along his cheek, her touch soft. “What you saw was not real, it was a nightmare, a terrible convincing nightmare. I felt you and brought you out of that accursed place.”

 

“You saved me?” he stared at her surprised.

 

“Yes.”

 

“But why?”

 

She smiled, it actually reached her tired eyes, she grinned at him shaking her head. “I told you, I like you, I was not going to leave you in a place like that.”

 

“So it’s gone?” He looked around the room.

 

“It is gone,” she confirmed. “Your safe now.”

 

He closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, “safe with my Sith.” He managed a small chuckle.

 

“Yes,” she smiled, “safe with your Sith.”

 

“I’m so tired,” he mumbled.

 

“Then sleep, I will be here, keeping you safe.”

 

“Promise?” he whispered.

 

“Give my word,” she whispered. He felt her warm breath against his lips as she gently kissed him and then he was asleep.

 

~'*'~

 

Licking his lips he swallowed. His hand worked itself free, he pulled the blanket off of himself and tried to sit up in the bed. His head spun, the room violently shifted. Quick footsteps ran across the room, gentle hands grasped him under his arms. “Easy what do you need, I will help you.”

 

“‘fresher.”

 

“Okay, here,” she leaned into him, her hands pushing on his back as she rested him against her shoulder. Her hands moved his legs over the side of the bed.

 

The floor was rough and fuzzy under his toes. “K on the count of three,” she whispered. He nodded into her neck. “One, two and three,” she pulled him onto his feet. He stumbled forward, his body slamming into hers. She grunted but held him upright. Grabbing his arm she turned him around, d****** his arm over her shoulders and her arm supportive around his hip.

 

“K nice and slow,” she whispered. Slowly they moved across the room, he leaned on her thankful she was there. He stumbled and grabbed her to steady himself. A painful sharp intake of breath blew past him. “Claws please,” she whispered her voice strained. He looked down at her side, relaxing his hand and pulling it away. The clawtips were covered in blood.

 

He stared at his hand. “I …” he licked his lips, “I didn’t mean to…”

 

She nodded, “I understand, I’m fine.” She pulled on his arm and they continued into the refresher.

 

“I, can manage,” he braced himself up against the wall.

 

She nodded, “I will be here.”

 

Leaning against the wall he slowly crept towards the toilet. As he neared his destination he realized he was not wearing any clothing. An involuntary shudder ran through him, fear the nightmare was real bubbled up, fear his belongings were shredded remnants on the forest floor filled him. Swallowing he took a deep breath, there had to be a rational explanation.

 

His pressing urgent need to answer nature's call snapped him out of his thoughts. He slowly continued on, using the wall for support. His need taken care of, he slowly made his way out of the refresher. His legs were steadier now he only needed to partially lean against the wall as he walked.

 

When he reached the doorway he saw her, her shirt was untied; arm out of her sleeve as she held a damp rag to her side. He hissed, claws sinking into the wooden frame. The cloth was covered in blood, she was wincing as she applied pressure to the four puncture wounds. “Need kolto,” he gasped, his throat ached, his mouth incredibly dry.

 

She shook her head, “I’m out, used the last of it on you.”

 

He shook his head, “You need it. Call Jaesa.”

 

Looking at her side she ignored him, “I’m fine really, this I can fix. I’m just tired, it takes a lot out of me and you have been getting all of my attention lately.” She clamped the towel to her side with her arm and moved toward him.

 

“Here,” she held out her right arm, “let’s get you back to bed.” Growling he accepted her hand settling his weight against her shoulder. She led him back to the bed holding him steady as he sat down on the mattress.

 

“Let me see,” he grabbed the damp towel. It was saturated in red, he could not tell if it was due to water or if it was mostly blood. He growled, the wounds continued to bleed; he had clawed her under her arm four small rivers of blood dripped down her pale side. Frowning he leaned forward licking her.

 

“What are you doing,” she inhaled sharply as he continued to lick her. Her skin *****led as he licked the puncture wounds, the flow was finally slowing. Gently he wiped her skin, removing the blood that dripped down her side.

 

“Interesting,” she murmured as she touched the now clotted over marks. She looked at him puzzled. He shrugged. Hrmm she hummed to herself. She touched her side one last time and slipped her arm into her shirt tying it closed.

 

Walking across the room she filled two glasses of water from a waiting pitcher. Her back to him she started to pour a steaming liquid into a bowl, “So Aric, what reason could you of possibly had that justified being out in the Nightmare Lands alone? It’s challenging enough for a Sith to be out there but a Force-blind, what were you thinking?”

 

He shook his head, “I wasn’t alone. I … I was alone?”

 

She nodded her head yes. He stared at her confused, he remembered someone with him, he was looking for someone.

 

“Jaesa and I quite literally stumbled across you when we were returning from a little exploratory trip. You’re lucky we found you at all.”

 

“I was looking for something. We were looking for someone, no something. I can’t remember exactly what though, a Jedi, a Master Halykus, asked. It had something to do with a powerful artifact the Gormak were trying to use, something called Evuk-Nosk, that’s all I can remember.”

 

She turned to look at him, “Considering the state I found you in, that’s more than I thought you were going to be able to remember.” She quickly crossed the room, handing him the steaming bowl and setting his glass on the nightstand. The steam smelled of fowl and herbs, bringing the bowl to his face he inhaled.

 

“What is it?”

 

She smiled, “Dinner, soup always makes you feel better.”

 

“You sound like my mother,” he grumbled.

 

“A mother yes but not yours, she is right through, eat.”

 

He brought the steaming bowl to his lips and cautiously drank. It was warm soothing, tasting of roasted fowl and vegetables and those odd herbs from earlier. Within moments he had the bowl drained. He fumbled trying to set the bowl on the table his hands feeling heavy. She grabbed the bowl and gently took it away. He stared at her as his eyes grew heavy, what exactly where those herbs?

 

~'*'~

 

When he awoke, he woke with a start bolting straight up in the bed. He looked around the room, dismayed to discover he was alone. The fire in the hearth had burned low, across the room a small lamp burned casting long shadows along the walls. By the bedside table there was a datapad, a small plate of cheeses, meats and fruits and a large glass of water. On the foot of the bed neatly folded there appeared to be clothing.

 

He pulled back the blankets and moved to examine the clothing. It was a pair of slacks and a loose fitting shirt, looked to be Voss in origin. He pulled the slacks on and sat back on the bed. Curious he picked up the datapad, clawing its screen it flickered to life. The text sprawled there had been highlighted and notes were marked in the margins. Canting his head to the side he studied the screen. It was philosophy, the author was writing of freedom, true freedom and its often deceiving appearance. Interesting, he reached over grabbing the plate and leaned against the headboard. As he read he realized he was reading the work of a Sith Lord but he could not put it down.

 

He lost himself in the work; he became aware of the sun slowly filtering through the window coverings, the room gradually brightening, when the door flew open. In walked Kit, she was covered in dirt, it dropped off of her has she moved. Behind her the door slammed shut, shuddering in its hinges, plaster dropped from the ceiling. Her hands moved quickly unbuckling latches and hooks, her armor dropped off of her. Her arms slipped out of her robe, it fell pooling at her feet. With a primal growl, she shoved items on the far table; it creaked and groaned under the pressure. Glancing at him she sank to her knees.

 

He stared, unconsciously pressing himself up against the headboard. The clothes she still wore were ripped and ragged, her hair tangled and matted, her eyes that stared at him from her hallow sunken face were red. She smiled at him, a smile poisoned with madness. Thankfully she closed those glowing burning orbs and sank heavily onto her legs entering a meditation.

 

He refused to move; he sat watching her. She was as still as statue; if it were not for her chest barely rising and falling he would of thought her frozen. After an eternity she moved, he glanced at the window the shadows had marched across the room, the sun would be setting soon. Her arms moved over her head, she rolled her neck popping the bones, as she stretched her back the popping skipped down her spine.

 

She looked to him on the bed, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief, the insane smile was gone, her face had regained some colour, her eyes now gold. Gold he understood, it still scared him but he had seen it before.

 

“Where, where did you go?” He held his breath waiting.

 

“Nightmare Lands,” she grunted. “I discovered what you were looking for.” She ran her hand over her temple, “I took everything from value off the ship and dismantled it, then sank it back into its watery grave. You can report the objective has been completed.”

 

“You found it? So it was a ship?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded, “it was Sith and ancient.” She gestured to the table, to the items that lay on it, “two holocrons, a saber, all of the ship’s logs and records.”

 

Slowly she stood and walked to him, she held her hand out, when she turned her hand over something slid out spinning when the chain became taunt. Reaching out he grabbed the chain, examining the mud caked metal he let out a surprised gasp, “My dogtags.”

 

She nodded, “I found them when I reentered that damnable place.”

 

He looked up into gold eyes, “Thank you.”

 

She grunted, “They don’t deserve you.”

 

She Force pulled his clean shirt off the bed and stalked into the refresher. The sound of falling water filled the room as steam rolled out of the small 'fresher. When she finally emerged she was wearing his shirt, towel drying her hair. Dropping the towel on the floor she walked to the bed and pulled back the blankets. With a weary sigh she collapsed into the bed.

 

“I,” he looked at her, “I can’t believe you did that.”

 

She shook her head, “No… not now, to tired. That place, so dark. Was not… as prepared, as I thought.”

 

He lay back in the bed setting the datapad down, he reached his arm out to her, “Come here.” Her hand reached out wrapping around his side, he gritted his teeth as she pulled herself against him, the force of her fingers stealing his breath. Her head settled against his chest, by the time he had his arms wrapped around her the Sith was asleep.

 

 

AN

 

Prompt was allies

 

Translations: for those of you curious what the Force ghost was saying

Yeah… Sith translation why do I keep doing this to myself?

Jenwoyunoks dwomut, jenwo.= Dark little one come, hidden one.

Koshû kotswinot = shadow break the.

Jidaiyunoks, Jenqû kotsjenwin, saaraiwinottoi yuntok? Sarrainukutottoi. = Jedi little, hidden is your light, forgotten the other (you)? We remember.

Qoqûsarraiyatul. = Path to the truth.

sarrai = truth

 

Note on Cathar:

AN I took a bit of a liberty with the Cathar species, according to sources on the internet Cathar heal at an accelerated rate, so I applied this little trick to their saliva as well, giving it some clotting properties.

 

 

 

 

Enjoy

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