Quinn and Talos as Holmes and Watson? Awesome! Don't apologize, the tone fit both characters very well. I loved this!

An exuberant redhead becomes roommates with a black-haired cynic and they develop a near-sibling bond.

Felix was nervous, the wedding was a week away and he wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew Elliah was big on tradition, both Jedi and Miraluka, he felt out of his depths and overwhelmed. He needed to go talk to her. Elliah had been elusive and mysterious working on a secret project, it was a surprise she had told him with that serene and impish grin of hers. He wondered what it was, he had already seen the dress, a very simple white satin gown with no adornments, it slinked around her curves beautifully, he had enjoyed the little fashion show, though he was surprised at its simplicity.

“You’ll see.” She had said mysteriously, as she shrugged it off, letting it pool at her feet, they had snuck in a wild and wonderful moment of passion.

He quietly entered her room, she wasn’t at her altar meditating, he crept in further.

“Elli?” He called out in a soft voice. She emerged from her bedroom, and shut the door behind her. Her thick dark chestnut hair was loose falling down her back, she wore a simple mask over her empty eyes, nothing more than a piece of fabric wrapped around her head.

“Felix Iresso! You shouldn’t be here!” She chided playfully, walking into his embrace. Felix felt better almost immediately, his fears and apprehensions calmed by her presence. He was humbled that this woman had chosen him, a simple soldier, a simple man. “You’re worse than my younglings on Republic unification day! Have patience dear, all will be revealed.”

“I just wanted to see you, I feel a lot less nervous when I’m with you.” He ran his fingers through her long hair, a luxury he wasn’t afforded very often.

“I’m almost done, I promise, go out to the gardens and find us a place to eat, I’ll only be another hour.” She kissed him and gently guided him to the door.

Once he was gone she returned to her chair in her bedroom. The room was overtaken by an impossibly long lace veil, the lace was worked with tiny beads and gems that twinkled in the light. She carefully gathered the head piece, the eye covering sparkled. She picked up her needle and thread and deftly picked up some white beads with the tip, she went back to her delicate work. When the mask was finished she fastened two tear drop diamonds on the edges, giving the impression of real tears. It was finally done, and Elliah allowed herself to be proud of her handiwork. Like a true Miralukan bride she had crafted her veil, taking pieces from her mothers, which had pieces from her grandmothers, it held veils of almost seven generations, the reason for the length.

She smiled sadly knowing she would be the last to wear it, it was the reason she had added the teardrop diamonds. Images of Avacynne came unbidden to her minds eye, her fiery little daughter, she swallowed back the emotion, trusting in the force, perhaps it would guide her daughter back to her one day, and Elliah could give her the family veil.

Brei'yu Kodrevas came awake all at once. She was lying flat on her stomach in bed, her arms crossed under her pillow and very much asleep. She shifted onto her back and let her heavy *****ling limbs fall to her sides. The dream was already starting to fade. Most of it was gone already. But there were some deep impressions left behind.

She'd been dreaming of her sister, Ipha. She and Ipha hadn't spoken in over ten years. Brei'yu never dreamed of her or any of her family. But the dream had left a smear in her head. Ipha had been upset, ill maybe. Why was already forgotten.

It took her a few moments, far far too many moments when she looked back on it, before she realized the ceiling was wrong. Familiar but wrong. Brei'yu lifted her head and glanced around her for the first time. She knew where she was, but she was wasn't supposed to be here.

She was in the captain's quarters of the Risky Mistress. Which was... odd was the mildest term she could think of. The Risky Mistress was in a storage yard on Dromund Kaas, forced into temporary retirement while she rode with Adris and his crew.

The mountain beside her that she originally mistook for a pile of unneeded blankets shifted and moaned. Brei'yu jumped naked from the bed and hunted for her blaster. The best she could do was her vibroknife taken from her pants that were tossed in the corner with... a man's shirt. Slowly, vibroknife securely in her fist, she approached the bed and tore the covers back.

Well, he was good looking. And naked. That was important because he was unarmed and she had a knife. He blinked at her in the sudden light, his eyes sliding from her face to her hand. He looked her in the eye again and smirked. “You gonna use that?”

“Who are you?” she hissed.

He sat up and stretched. “Didn't catch your name either. What time is it?”

Brei'yu eyed his very well built form as he sat in her bed unashamed of his nudity. Then again, she wasn't wearing anything either. “This is my ship,” she said.

“Yeah. I kind of have a roommate situation so we came back here,” he said.

“No, this is my old ship. I'm supposed to be on the Immortal Faire and...” ****. Adris. The Faire and...

Vector.

“Don't know about all that,” the man yawned, scratched his head with one hand and his beard with the other as he looked past her and at the clock. “But I got just enough time for one more go before I gotta be back aboard my ship. Captain Protocol would love to leave me behind and I don't want to give him reason to gloat. So come here.”

Brei'yu shook her head. He was indeed ready for one more go. Almost tempting but... “What happened last...” she looked at the clock and choked. “Two days?!?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Two days? I met you last night, woman.”

Brei'yu stared, wondering if she could trust this naked, built man in her bed. She opened her mouth and shut it again, thinking back. Last thing she remembered? Talking to Vector. They were about to land on Hutta. Adris had gotten clearance, they were going to debark and... that was it. She looked at the man in her bed. She would piece this together. “What's your name?” she asked.

The man looked her over. “Call me Pierce. What's yours?”

“Brei'yu Kodrevas. I don't know anyone named Pierce.”

He laughed. “I don't know you from a Hutt. I told you we met last night.”

“Where?”

“You serious?” He rolled his eyes when she raised her knife. “Please.” He started hunting down his clothes when it was obvious the festivities of the night before weren't going to carry over. “Little joint on Nar Shaddaa. The Sauntering Harlot. You were drinking a Red Hot Screamer, stone sober. I bought you two more, one you didn't even touch and we came back here.”

Brei'yu frowned as she watched him move about her quarters. She didn't remember leaving Hutta for Nar Shaddaa. How did her ship get here? Satisfied he wasn't going to kill her just yet, she tossed her vibroknife on the nightstand. “I haven't been in the Harlot for a couple months. Not since Adris hunted me down.”

“Don't know an Adris. You were at the bar alone.” He came to stand before her, his pants pulled loosely up his hips and his shirt in his hands. Brei'yu pulled her knees up to her chest and reached for a blanket to cover herself. “You really don't remember?”

She shook her head slowly. “You believe me?”

“I've had some experience with stuff that messes with the mind. You were drinking a Screamer when I met you. You told me it was your first of the night and you just concluded some business. We sat at the bar the entire night. The tending droid made your drinks and gave them right to you.” He put his hands on his hips and looked her over. “Nothing?” When she shook her head he tossed his shirt on the bed and put his hands on either side of her face. “Anything?”

“What are you-”

“Sensory memory probing. Sometimes a touch or a scent can trigger lost memories.”

“I'm not sure it's called that.” His hands were really warm on her face. She looked up into his eyes and wondered if she could risk looking at his memories. If she could see what he saw when they first met, maybe she would remember. She saw him watching her intently and decided against it, at least for now. She couldn't exactly put her power to use unnoticed and the fewer people who knew what she could do, the better her chances of staying free and alive. She would have to utilize other tools. “In fact, I don't think I like anything with the word 'probing' in it.”

“You had no issue with it last night.” He smirked roguishly when she narrowed her eyes at him.”So,” he continued, pulling his hands back to give her less of a reason to physically attack him. “You don't seem overly upset about losing two days. Or having no memory of me and my outstanding performance last night.”

Brei got up and skittered about the room, pulling on her clothes in the order she found them, which left her holding her undershirt and a slightly ripped pair of panties. She looked down at them wryly. “I'm going to take your word on that.” Feeling less vulnerable, she sat on the edge of the bed to slip into socks. “My memory has to be there right? I just have to find a way to shake it loose. I was... I was in some stuff in the past and those people sometimes...” she waved her hand near her head vaguely.

“Uh-huh. You not in with those people anymore?”

“They kicked me out of their club,” she said hotly.

“Harsh.”

“Wait a minute. I can get this cleared up right now. Well, mostly. Maybe.” Brei'yu searched her clothes and the floor for her holo. She and Adris had a secret frequency that was for them only. They'd had it when they worked together on Alderaan and he had set it back up when he hunted her down again on Nar Shaddaa. She called the frequency up, expecting Adris to answer worried about her. Instead, she got nothing. Not even an attempt at a connection. The channel didn't exist.

For the first time, fear invaded. She tried again, she checked the frequency and tried a third time. “I don't understand,” she whispered. “Westan and I used this channel all the time. It can't not exist. Even if he blocked it, it would still...” She looked up, lost.

Pierce had been looking on with some sympathy. “Westan?” He looked at her differently now. “Listen, you seem like a smart woman. And you were a fun...” he paused as she whirled to glower at him. “Anyway. You showed me a pretty good time. You don't seem to stock a crew on this tinker so maybe I extend a hand to you. Point you in a direction?”

“You want to help me?” Brei'yu regarded him closely, searching her trusted gut for any feeling that this man was tricking her, or luring her into a trap.

“The Sith Lord I'm working for, he's got this stick-up-the-*** medic. I can beat him into submission, have him take a look at you.”

Brei'yu backed up. “You want to turn me over to a Sith Lord?”

“Not turn you over, woman. Get you help. Alright, Lord Vikis is pretty scary. But his sister's a bleeding heart. She'll turn you into a charity case.”

Something like recognition tugged at Brei, but she couldn't place it. So she thought about Pierce's offer carefully instead, looking down at the dead holo in her hands. She didn't have a medic on board because before Adris recruited her, she always ran solo. So, whatever happened, she had fallen back on that again. Did she want to place herself in the hands of some scary Sith and his charity working sister? But what if something was really wrong and she could find out right away what it was?

How bad did she want her two days back? Where were Adris and Vector? Has she left them? Would they have abandoned her? Had they finished Adris' mission? But why would she have left unless Vector... Well, it wasn't like they had been together or anything. Maybe it looked like it was going that way but they hadn't written it out in carbonite or anything.

She needed to know.

“I'm going armed,” she said, and began to change her clothes.

“If you think that will help,” Pierce answered with a shrug.

<to be continued>

Did I steal the Immortal Faire from you? It's because you're awesome and I loved it.

The hangar was scarily empty. Even the loading droids made a wide berth around the ship Pierce was leading her to. Everything seemed to be holding its collective breath, like too much movement would set off a tsunami of horribleness that no one would survive.

Maybe her imagination was running away with her.

She knew that wasn't the case when Pierce grabbed her arm at the bottom of the ship's ramp and made her stop. “Right then. You should know before walking in there that Lord Vikis is the Emperor's Wrath,” he began.

Brei'yu's mouth fell open and he shoved a finger in her face before she could freak out on him.

“BUT, he's a half way reasonable man. Half way. Just let me do the talking, right?” He kept her standing at the bottom of the ramp watching her stare up at the door, calculating. “Having second thoughts, yeah?”

Brei'yu shut her face down and Pierce laughed. It wasn't cruel or mocking, Brei'yu sensed that he knew how embarrassed she was at being so easily read.

“Where ever my lord is, his sister is never far behind. We'll just...” he paused, seeing a figure open the door and start down the ramp towards them. “Our presence is already known. Just let me talk.” He straightened and turned to the woman sashaying to them. “Jaesa,” he greeted when she stopped before them.

“Pierce.” She turned her attention on Brei'yu, her orangey-red eyes interested and disquieting. “What is this?”

Despite her fear of Sith, and her fear of discovery, Brei'yu still had her pride. She'd killed Sith bigger than this Jaesa woman with bare hands. She didn't like being referred to as an object.

Jaesa seemed to sense this shift in emotion and smiled prettily. “Your friend, Pierce. Who is she?”

“Jaesa Willsaam, this is Brei'yu Kodrevas, formerly of Imperial Intelligence. Brei'yu, this is Lord Vikis's apprentice, Jaesa.”

While Jaesa made a strange delighted sound that Brei didn't trust, she glanced up at Pierce. So he had figured it out. Not much matter, except she wasn't sure if she was dead or alive in Intelligence databanks. Maybe she'd get to find out.

“Little lost herdling,” Jaesa said quietly while staring at Brei'yu. Brei felt rather exposed beneath her gaze. “You just want this to be all better, don't you?”

Brei'yu's brows knitted together in confusion. Could this Sith read minds? That was a terrifying thought. Jaesa tossed her hair in a way that told Brei'yu she was the alpha female around here, or at least believed herself to be. But what caught her attention were the sparkling studs fixed to her ears that glinted in the light.

“Those are lovely earrings,” Brei'yu said cautiously.

Jaesa put her hand to her ear as though to remind herself what she was wearing. “Well, thank you. A gift from my Master.”

“You must be someone special. Tangdor gems, correct? They shine like blood and are very rare. My sister had a pair once, when we were very young. I only remember because they were gifted by a suitor when she was only twelve.”

“Tangdor gems are often a gift between lovers,” Jaesa smiled unpleasantly.

Pierce wasn't really following the conversation. “Lord Vikis, he's in then?”

“Oh yes. He awaits you on the bridge. You and your... friend.” Jaesa turned to go back up the ramp. “Come along.”

Pierce followed Jaesa, taking Brei'yu's hand when she hesitated. Stepping into the ship was like being eaten by a giant metal mouth. The inside was all red light and shadow, unforgiving gunmetal gray and power. There was a sibilant sound she couldn't immediately place. Brei'yu fought hard to still the fear. Too much was like heady perfume to Sith. A little was respectful. She needed to be respectful right now. That gave her a better chance at getting out alive.

Her senses were in overdrive. Her eyes darted about her, searching corners, hallways. The woman before her seemed to enjoy it. Pierce kept her close to his side, probably trying to be a soothing presence. All she could think was that he was holding onto her shooting arm.

“Take a breath or you'll go into a cardiac arrest,” Pierce rumbled.

“What did I let you talk me into?” she hissed.

“I talked my way into your bed. You agreed to this with surprisingly little discussion.”

“Stupid me.”

Jaesa lead them to the bridge without a word. Brei'yu nearly balked at all the people waiting there for them. Pierce blocked her exit.

A stiff, severe looking man stood by a computer console, his body in parade rest but managing to look rigid and unforgiving at the same time. His hair was black and swept away from his face, his blue eyes cold and dispassionate on her. Beside him, just within his personal space, which Brei'yu read as intimacy, a woman sat on the console, her arms loosely crossed and her expression open and almost friendly. She was lovely with golden irises and auburn hair pulled back in a twisted bun. Her face was familiar in some way and Brei'yu looked at her more closely. The woman smiled then looked off to the left.

Brei'yu's head turned to size up the new problem but her breath froze in her throat. Her mouth dropped open as the man came forward. Aphotic power and energy exuded from him like a nearly visible aura. The Emperor's Wrath was impressive. She also knew his face.

“Adris?” she whispered.

The man stopped and his expression changed from cold disinterest to mild surprise. Brei'yu shook herself. This wasn't Adris. The man's face was harsher, none of the easy laughter that Adris never could seem to shake. His cybernetics were black durasteel alloy and his right eye was completely gone, replaced by unfeeling machine. “No, I apologize. Lord Vol'vikis.” She bowed deep at the waist. “I didn't realize you would look so much like...”

“Like my twin,” he finished.

Brei'yu wet her dry lips and nodded.

“I'm curious. How is it that you know Adris?” Vikis asked.

Brei'yu relaxed marginally. He did indeed sound curious. “Adris and I were in Intelligence together. We met on Alderaan, many years ago.”

“You!” the woman sitting on the console said suddenly. “You're...” she pointed at Brei, snapped her fingers a couple times, her mouth set in a firm line as she thought. “Bree... Bra. Uh, Brei. You. Brei'yu! Something. Adris talked about you a lot.”

“Brei'yu Kodrevas.”

“That's it. Where are my manners?” the woman asked. “I'm Ellivian Westan. Adris is my older brother.”

“I...” Brei'yu was slightly thrown. She wasn't expecting to run into Adris' family on her search for him.

Ellivian cocked her head with some sympathy. “Pierce? Was this your idea?”

“She's got some problems. Mentioned the Westan name, thought you might be able to help, my lord,” Pierce said with a shrug.

“What kind of problems?” Ellivian asked before her brother could.

Pierce looked at Brei'yu. It was up to her to explain what she could. “I've lost the last 48 standard hours,” she said. “I just don't recall them. And what I've woken up to is wrong. Adris had me on his crew temporarily for a job. That's where I should be. But I'm not and I can't reach him.”

“Adris was never easy to get a hold of,” Ellivian said with understanding.

“I would like to know more about these lost 48 hours,” Vikis said.

“So do I,” Brei'yu answered. She told them all she dared, up to what she last remembered and where she was. She mentioned having no memory of meeting Pierce, or having gone to Nar Shaddaa.

“Could this be Intelligence programming?” Ellivian asked when she was done. Brei'yu opened her mouth to answer but realized the Sith wasn't talking to her. She was speaking to the silent, severe man beside her.

“I am unaware of any official memory programming, my lord,” the man answered. He didn't seem happy about it.

“Doesn't mean it's not in existence,” Ellivian said.

“There may be a way to find out. If she would submit to medical testing.”

Brei'yu didn't like the word submit or the way the man said it in his adenoidal tone. She looked up at Pierce and wondered why she had put so much trust in the man. But she didn't seem to have any choice. She felt like she was being pushed along a river, staying upright but not so much in control.

Ellivian pushed off the console and walked to Brei'yu, her smile comforting. “Why don't you let Malavai run some tests while I try and find Adris? With any luck, we can knock this mystery out with one go.”

Pierce glowered. Ellivian put a hand on his arm. “All discretion, Malavai won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Will you, Malavai?” She turned sweet eyes on him, but Brei'yu saw the steel beneath the gaze.

The man called Malavai regarded Ellivian with something Brei'yu read as terrified desire for a short moment before his expression smoothed out. That was weird, she had probably misread him in her nervousness. He looked at Brei'yu and his expression changed to one of cool disinterest. “Your secret shall be safe with me.”

“Wonderful. Pierce, why don't you go with them?”

“Was planning on it,” Pierce answered. His glower was all for Malavai. “I'll be watching you, Quinn.”

Quinn barely suppressed rolling his eyes. “When are you not, exactly?”

Pierce grinned.

<to be continued>

Lord Vol'vikis accompanied them to the med bay. That did not put Brei'yu at any sort of ease. He watched impassively as Quinn put her through a battery of tests and a thorough physical check up. She didn't even need to say anything. Pierce questioned everything Quinn was doing, though it seemed less out of concern for her and more because it was annoying the other man greatly.

Quinn informed her when something came back normal, and everything did until he looked at images of her head. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and took a closer look.

“Well?” Lord Vikis asked. “I sense something troubling you.”

“Lay back down if you would,” Quinn commanded. He helped Brei'yu onto her back. “I'm going to rescan your brain.”

“There's something on my brain?” she asked with no little horror.

“It's most likely nothing, just a blip on the tests. Now hold still.” Brei'yu closed her eyes as Quinn rescanned her head and shoulders. He brought the images back up and stared at them again. “Curious.”

“What? What's curious?” Brei'yu felt something akin to panic flutter in her chest. Could they see? Would they find out about her power? Did it work that way? Quinn was killing her.

Vikis moved up beside Quinn.

“Do you see it, my lord?”

“If you're referring to that, then yes. If you aren't, then I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I am, my lord.”

“What is it?” Brei'yu sat up and went to see the scans herself. “What am I looking at?”

“Your brain,” Quinn said dryly.

She turned dull eyes on him. “Pierce?”

“I'll smack him for you.”

Quinn waved the threat away. “You're looking at the thalamus. Right here. And this, do you see this here?”

“That little spot?” Brei'yu squinted.

“That's not supposed to be there,” Quinn finished.

“What does the thalamus do?” Pierce asked.

“The thalamus,” Quinn began, going into a not so relaxed parade rest as he spoke, “sends sensory and motor signals to the cerebral cortex.”

“How would she have gotten that on her... thalamus?” Vikis questioned.

“I have no answer for that, my lord.”

Ipha woke slowly but completely. Apparently Elara used a sedative with no long lasting effects. Or she had been stabbed a second time with Elara's 'wake up juice.' Whatever. She opened her eyes and looked at the med bay ceiling. Someone was holding her hand. Jorgan. She knew without looking. Her heart ached a little.

He noticed her eyes fluttering. “Ipha?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah?” She made it a full question.

“Are... how do you feel?”

“Elara stabbed me.”

“It was a little needle. Sir.” Elara came into view, her face a little pinched and worried.

“You're calling me 'sir' again. I don't like this.” Ipha lifted her head off the pillow and looked down at herself. “Since I'm neither a giant Zabrak, nor male, I'm going to guess that Major Poole still isn't around.” She watched Elara and Jorgan exchange a look.

“You still don't remember?” Jorgan asked.

“I don't remember the last two days. Before that I remember said giant male Zabrak issuing me orders very clearly,” Ipha answered testily. She drew her hand out of Aric's warm ones and rubbed her face. She paused to take and release a breath before she met his eye. “I'm sorry. That was unfair.”

Jorgan reached for her hand again then stopped himself, seeming confused. “If you don't remember leading Havoc Squad, then you don't remember...”

Ipha pressed her lips together as though in physical pain. “No,” she murmured. “I don't. I'm so sorry.”

Jorgan hung his head slightly and stood, pacing away. Ipha wanted to say something, anything that would take the droop out of his shoulders but Elara leaned in. “Sir, you remember us.”

“Um, yeah. You're Lieutenant Elara Dorne, Captain Aric Jorgan. Jorgan mentioned Vik, sorry Specialist Tanno Vik, was on uh.. somewhere. M1-4X, I heard his voice earlier. And Lieutenant Yuun. I haven't seen him.”

Elara's brow crinkled. “Lieutenant who?”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Ipha moaned. “Yuun. The Findsman. The Gand! The guy whose job I nearly stole like three months ago? No? Nothing? No Yuun? That bites.”

Elara sighed and searched Ipha's face. “Sir, I did some tests while you were out. I did find a couple things that concerned me.”

“This should be good,” Ipha sighed as she sat up.

“When I ran the tests on you, I found a burn mark on your brain.” Elara said it quickly, like ripping off a bandage.

Ipha's hands dropped slowly into her lap. “What? What does that even mean? A burn on my brain?” Fear made her voice high. She heard Jorgan stop pacing. She looked over her shoulder at him and he met her worried gaze with his own.

Elara brought up the images. “Here, on your thalamus. It's the sensory and motor skills part of your brain, sir.”

“I have a burn mark. On the part of my brain that perceives things. Affecting the way I perceive things? That... that... I don't even know what to do with that information.”

“Sir, I'm very worried.”

“So, more tests then? Do you have to cut me open? Where do we go from here?” Ipha rubbed her eyes then brought her head up. “Wait. What's the other thing you're going to dump on me that's going to irrevocably change my life?”

“Well, first of all, I don't believe I should be doing anymore testing on you,” Elara said, twisting her hands momentarily then dropping them to her sides.

“What do you mean no more tests? You've only imaged the mark. At the very basic you should run a tomography. And certainly test my cerbralspinal fluid. It might be an infection or some weird early sign of hereditary dementia. I'm a doctor too, I know there's another twenty-five things you can do off the top of my head to figure out what's going on with me!”

Elara laid a hand on Ipha's arm. “Are you aware you're pregnant?”

Ipha stopped breathing. She was pretty sure Jorgan did too. She stared at Elara for a moment before daring to look over her shoulder at Jorgan. “Did... did I mention anything like that lately?”

“No,” his voice was gruff and emotional. “No, you didn't tell me.”

“Then I'm going to go with I didn't know.”

“Damn it, Ipha. Now is not the time for jokes!” Jorgan said harshly.

Ipha cringed and shoved her hands into her too long hair. “I can't. I can't right now. Wait. How long?”

“You're about four weeks. It's not too odd that you did not know.” Elara put a comforting hand on Ipha's shoulder.

“I...” Ipha stopped, lost. How was she supposed to feel? She could be dying, she had memory loss, and she was having Jorgan's baby. “Why?”

“Why, sir?” Elara asked, seemingly confused.

“Why is my brain burned, Elara? Why can't I remember the last 48 hours? WHY do I not remember ANY of what you're telling me as truth?” Her voice rose with anger and emotion before it petered out and cracked on the last word. “Why is this happening?”

“I can't answer that, sir.”

<to be continued>

He wanted to look away from the holoimage of his little half-sister, but Baras would chide him for it. Strange how the shock and betrayal in her face threw a wrench into his stomach. He hadn't wanted to do this, hadn't wanted to kill his only living blood relative, but it was that or die. Her eyes- his father's eyes- widened as Draagh pressed the button on the detonator. He saw her dive away and protectively cover another flitting image with her body (smart money was on that stuffy officer who followed her around. Draagh spared no feelings for his death as part of the plan.) Then the call closed out.

-------

"You have a strange way of showing your affection, Apprentice." The voice came from behind the mask of Darth Baras. "Tell me why you ignored my orders and buried your pretty little sister in a cold dark cave rather than drive a lightsaber through her heart. I would think you would want to give her a proper duel, a fitting end for a true Sith."

"My Lord, how did you find ou-" Draagh started, but he was unable to say more as the large Darth rounded on him in a rage.

"You didn't think, did you? Your orders were to cut down your sister, not hide behind explosives in a coward's trick. The feeling of your lightsaber snuffing out her life would have made you rage, made you stronger. Instead, you couldn't bear to face your true feelings and hid. As for how I found out? You should very well know I have eyes everywhere. And you buried one of them with your sister."

"The officer?" Draagh stammered. He hadn't expected that one. "He survived?"

"If you have to ask, you're not half the Apprentice I thought you were. They both survived! Now be out of my sight! And don't expect to come back looking as handsome as you do now if you fail to kill your sister per my instructions again." Baras concluded.

Later that night in his chambers, Draagh played with his holocommunicator in his hands. He thought of calling Lucerna again, of warning her. He saw the way his sister looked at that officer of hers, the one Baras indicated was in his service. Baras was right, he couldn't bear the thought of murdering a family member outright, especially one that had saved his life and always had been courteous, even kind to him. If she died because he withheld information... If he knew she died because her beloved officer stabbed her in the back...

He almost finished dialing the holofrequency before he came to his senses and crushed the communicator in his fist. As the sparks from the dying device burned through his glove and into his hand, he vowed to extinguish any lingering affection he held for his younger sister.

The Fury class starship was in a frantic yet excited mood. Birthdays were always an exciting time especially if you hadn't celebrated in 5 years.

Quinn looked over the ship, his eyes scanning for any oddities that he could find. He had never expected he would be planning his master's "birthday" as Vette had called it, but Quinn was content if it made his master respect him more.

Vette scurried across the holo room to stand next to him. She stared at the beautifully wrapped birthday gifts and balloons that followed.

"For a stuffy dull old captain you really know how to throw a party," said Vette approvingly as she headed towards the punch bowl.

"First off I'm not stuffy and I am certainly not old," snapped Quinn," Even I am intelligent on such matters such as "birthdays"."

"Have you ever celebrated Captain," asked Vette curiously as she poured some Juma Juice into her drink.

"Of course not," replied Quinn.

"Then how are you so good at it."

"As I have already told you, I am knowledgeable on such things," replied Quinn slightly annoyed.

"Doubt it," said Vette.

Quinn was becoming more irratated," I am not a child."

"You calling every being in the galaxy children," replied Vette who began to fill a plate with food.

"When are you going to stop asking me questions", sighed Quinn.

"Till, you tell me your big secret.

Quinn was silent for a moment, cursing in his mind.

"I don't have to entertain you with such knowledge," said Quinn dismissively as he turned to a box of decorations that sat in the corner of the room.

"So, you do have a secret," replied Vette.

Quinn paused with a loud sigh ,and turned to Vette who stood chomping on trail mix as if she were a gundark.

"Fine," said Quinn face palming as he walked over to Vette.

"So,where did you learn to throw birthday parties", asked Vette curiously.

"I was 15 when I last threw a party," said Quinn almost hurting.

Vette nodded attentively.

"It was a wonderful afternoon on Dromund Kass and my friends had showered me with an array of decorations and celebration. It was a truly momentous occasion."

"Called a birthday party," interjected Vette.

"Would you let me talk," said Quinn irritably," Anyways it was like any party except there was one person there who I had not recognized."

"Who was it?"

"My biological father."

Vette raised an eyebrow ," You were adopted?"

Quinn turned to face the holo terminal," He had wanted me to reunite with the rest of our family and had especially wanted me to meet my brother. I turned him away after believing I had been abandoned by him."

"Yeah", said Vette sheepishly.

Quinn continued," Other than that portion, the party was a success. It was what happened after that I decided that I wouldn't throw a party again."

"Oh", replied Vette curiously.

"My father was killed during an encounter with a runaway slave. He was a Cipher agent for Imperial Intelligence. It was just a day after my birthday."

Then the room was silent and Vette looked up at Quinn with comforting eyes.

"That's a tough break, I'm sorry," said Vette sympathetically.

"I don't want you pity," said Quinn tiredly," I have something to do if you don't mind."

"Sure", replied Vette.

Quinn walked into his quarters and reached into a small compartment above the ship's controls. He pulled out a small journal the size of his palm. He wrote quickly....

Dear Diary,

Vette and I talked today. It was about petty parties and it grew into a conversation about my past. I wish Vette and I..... Could be together. But, I cannot even get over my past. I am once again alone on my birthday.

Until next time, Malavai Ardon Quinn

Quinn slipped the diary back into the compartment, straightened his uniform, and walked out into the holo room, alone.

18 ATC – seven years after the confirmation of the Wrath

Dromund Kaas – the Niral estate

“Mom?”

“Yes, Rylon?”

Six-year-old Rylon Niral stopped his habitual fidgeting to stare at his mother. “How come you can’t shoot Force lightning?”

“I never trained the skill.”

“Why?”

“Because I spent that time honing my skills with a lightsaber.”

“Why?”

“I like saber combat more.”

“Why?”

“It gets you more exercise. Gives you more physical followthrough. And, strangely enough, makes less of a mess of your hair.”

Rylon shook out his shaggy black hair, grabbed a handful, considered it, looked back up at Ruth. “Why?”

“I’m afraid I’m not well qualified to explain static Force effects to you.”

“Why?”

“Already answered that one. I spent my time learning the lightsaber, not studying textbooks.”

“Why?”

“To defend myself, little guy.”

“Why?”

“Um. Because I like living?”

“Why?”

She half laughed. “This has taken an existential turn I’m not sure I’m comfortable with.”

“Why?”

“Because some answers do more harm than good, sweetie.”

“Why?”

“If I knew that, my life would be a much different thing.”

“Why?”

“Well, I would have all the answers and then I could probably go be the Empress myself.”

“Whoa.” Rylon scrunched up his brow to consider. “But you have to shoot Force lightning to be the Emperor.”

“Not if I were in charge. I would change the rules so you just have to be the best at lightsabers.”

“Huh. Show me more saber stuff?”

“Sure.” She started toward the playroom, which stored a few practice sabers, including some scaled for little Rylon. “Let’s go, kid.”

He skipped on ahead. “We can train up and then both be Emperor!”

She laughed. “And why would we do that?”

“Because it’s awesome.”

A full week, she thought, I’ve been here a full week, and I want to go home. It was very early in the morning, and as she got up to make another trip to the refresher, Corso didn’t move. The staff had accepted that she was much calmer as long as he was near, and didn’t bother them about it anymore. The sisters and their families had gone back to their normal routine, other than checking in with her several times a day via holo. She grimaced as she stood, her body never without the pain and aches of advanced pregnancy. Her son moved lazily, as if he weren’t ready to be awake yet, and it made her smile.

As she made her way back to bed, she started to feel an odd burning sensation, and suddenly there was clear fluid everywhere, a searing pain taking the place of the burning. Corso heard her yelp as she gripped the railing on the wall. He was up and to her in one leap, realizing that labor had started and pressing the button on the bed to call for help. He supported her as she walked to the bed and hesitated before sitting.

“This is just a mess, and it’s not time,” she cried, holding onto him with all she had. She looked at him with panic in her eyes. “He’s not ready, oh Corso, he’s not done cooking yet.” He shushed her, holding her as she was ripped by another strong contraction, her breathing ragged. The techs burst through the door pulling machines and monitors behind them.

The doctor came into the room then, looking at all the squiggly lines and numbers the monitors were spitting out while Miriah was struggling to stay on top of the pain that was hitting every three minutes. Corso was doing his best to stay calm, focused only on Miriah as she grimaced and tried to breathe.

“We already know you can’t deliver a baby this size, and labor is too far along to stop now. I suggest we prepare for surgery and save you and your baby distress.” He strode out of the room, confident he knew the answer to the problem. Miriah looked at Corso, a helpless, pleading look that ended with her eyes closed against the next contraction.

“I trust him, Mir, he’s been right all along.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s have us a baby today, eh kitten?” She nodded, no longer able to talk through the pain that was increasing with each wave.

He quickly changed into the acceptable clothes they’d given him and joined Miriah, who had been given numbing agents and was able to relax against the contractions, which she could still feel were going on but weren’t painful. It was only when he’d entered the room that he remembered the family. He stood to the side, entering his urgent message on his pocket datapad. That would have to do, he thought, feeling guilty that he’d been so absorbed but knowing they’d all understand.

Corso looked up in surprise as Akaavi joined them, dressed in her garb for the event. “What, you think I would miss a clan addition?” She smiled at them, and Corso realized he was glad she was here.

“It all happened so fast, ‘Kaavi, I just now sent a message to the family. The staff told you when you got here?” She nodded, seeing that Miriah was rapidly becoming tired.

The doctor entered, a screen was set up and before Corso really knew what all was going on, the older doctor pulled his son, Devin, from his mom. Corso felt time slow as he heard his son cry, and when he looked at Miriah, the tears streaming down her face made his own eyes fill. Devin was perfect, and if his cry was any indication, his lungs were fine. When the doctor asked Corso if he’d like to sever the umbilical cord, his hands shook. The tech took Devin then, and wiped his face, wrapping him in a warmed blanket, and took him to an area set up in the room to weigh and measure him.

“Nine pounds, fourteen ounces,” she announced, smiling at the new parents. “No need to take him for evaluation, he’s doing great.” She brought him over then, and placed the wrapped bundle in his mother’s arms. Corso was grinning, and Akaavi sighed in relief that he was here.

“Look, Dad, he’s here,” Miriah looked up at Corso, tears still sitting on her eyelashes but her smile radiant. Like every mother since the beginning of time, she had to unwrap him to do an inventory of fingers and toes, but she quickly wrapped him up again when he began to whimper against the cool air on his new skin. Miriah held him close, with Akaavi on one side and Corso on the other. Devin opened his eyes and looked first at Miriah and then turned his baby gaze on Corso, whose heart was tight with all the emotions. He smiled down at Devin, knowing he’d willingly give his life for his son or Miriah, to keep them safe and happy. Miriah handed him the bundle then, knowing how much Corso already loved their son, and he looked at the baby in wonder. Akaavi got her turn in too, amazed that the baby seemed to already know their voices and was so calmly looking around him.

Miriah was napping off and on, and had yet to feed or change Devin, since Corso and Akaavi were so vigilant. They were both, as it happened, out getting things ready for them to travel home in the morning, so she was alone with Devin when he began to fuss, his newborn cries resonating deep inside her. She slowly edged herself up from the bed and crossed to the baby, talking softly to him. Her voice soothed him, and he stopped wailing to look around for her. “You know me, right, Dev? It’s Mom. Let’s get you changed and stuff.” She got the necessary things done, and gingerly sat in the rocking chair with her son and a bottle. She looked long and hard at the cool, plastic bottle, finally putting it away and instead, placed her infant to her breast. They were both soothed by the touch of skin on skin, and when Corso arrived back at the room, the scene took his breath away. Miriah was humming something melodic, looking down at their son, who was feeding and waving one hand in the air. Her hair was identical to his, blacker than obsidian, and the look of serenity on her face was priceless. He had to grin at them, overjoyed at the sight of them together.

"Dev—Dad’s back, “she said softly to him, her lips curved in a gentle smile. He moved to her, crouching to look at his son, who was getting sleepy since he was full. She gently broke his suction and lifted him to her shoulder, where he snuggled rather than burped. Miriah was getting uncomfortable sitting, so she handed Devin to Corso, who got a burp right away.

“That’s right, little man, us guys know all about the burps. We’ll cover other manly and gross things later.” He smiled as he settled the baby in the crook of his muscled arm, Devin never waking, and sat on the edge of the bed where Miriah was getting settled.

After the busy morning, Miriah closed her eyes, her energy depleted, and Corso sat, watching both his newborn and his wife sleep, and knew that he was blessed.

"Where is my son?"

The doors blew in, almost falling from their hinges. A young woman leapt from the bed with a yelp, hastily grabbing blankets to cover herself.

"Sylvia, what the hell are you doing?" Grigor sat up, his flabby, wrinkled and hairy chest quite the contrast from his companion's.

"Another business conference, husband?" Lord Vizloch reached out with the Force and tore the blankets from the other woman's grasp. She started to sob and cover herself with her hands. "My son, Grigor, what have you done with him?"

"Geoffrey? He is exactly where he is supposed to be: overseeing the mining on-"

"Rochester, you damned fool!" Lord Vizloch twisted her hand in the air, catching the courtesan under the chin. She squeezed - hard - frowning at the cries and squeals that greeted the action.

"Sylvia! Don't do that, she's very expensive!" Grigor finally stood, his stomach hanging low over his thighs and swaying with his every step.

"You will address me with respect," Lord Vizloch sneered at him and flicked her wrist. The young woman flew across the room and smashed into an ornate dresser. There was a snap and she lay still. "And your little hussy is no longer a concern. Now, you know that Rochester came home and now he isn't here anymore, is he?" She stepped toward her estranged husband, patronizing anger bubbling in her words. "And you've done something to him, I know you have. I swear, if you've put my son in one of your mines or in one of your business partner's beds, I will make Taris look like a children's story."

"Wife... my Lord," Grigor stammered over his words, acutely aware of how Lord Vizloch liked to live up to her promises. "I have had nothing to do with Rochester's sudden disappearance; I didn't even know he was here! Look," He smiled, putting on the same mannerisms he always did when he was trying to placate her. "As I was bringing Silver in this afternoon, I-"

"Silver?!" Lord Vizloch screeched and gathered her anger. This newest insult was as grotesque as the man before her. With blackened energy rippling around her hands she picked up the corpse and flung it at Grigor. There was the smack of bare flesh being struck together and Grigor was knocked to the floor, winded. "You have four hours. Use all of your resources or I will take them from you," Lord Vizloch strode from the room, pausing briefly in the doorway. "Further, you will no longer bring your 'entertainment' into this house or I will see that enterprise dismantled as well."

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

There were no more tests to be run. There was a blip on her brain and no one had any idea how it got there. She'd had her military physical six months ago and there had been no problems. And that wasn't even the biggest thing to think about.

She sat on her bed, her back to the door, and put her hands over her stomach. She was pregnant and if she was an honorable, loving wife, it was Jorgan's. She loved him that much, but did this other self of hers? What a horrible thought. Why was she doing this to herself?

She hadn't even realized she'd whimpered and curled forward into a ball until she felt his hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath, pushed back the tears and looked over her shoulder at him.

“I... I tried to leave you alone. To give you some space. I ended up standing at the door staring at you like some kind of creeper,” he said apologetically.

“Tell me what we're like,” she whispered, surprising herself. Wasn't that only going to make it more painful? But... why couldn't she have him? He was hers in this... this whatever. Couldn't she just give herself to him like she wanted?

Jorgan rounded the bed and sat gingerly beside her. He looked thoughtfully embarrassed by the question. “We don't get a lot of time to ourselves,” he said. “You're extremely professional in public and in front of the crew. I respect you for that and I'm grateful for it. They had no idea we were... for the longest time. So when we get our alone time, we're pretty... affectionate. You made me your XO before a hint of this ever went down. You gave me back something that was unfairly taken from me. I think that's when it started for me. When you gave me something you really didn't need to.

“But in being your XO, we don't go on the field much together. Which, you've pointed out before, is probably for the best. Losing you is something that twists my gut almost every hour of the day. But I can't be without you, so I deal with it. And... am affectionate with you so you know how I feel.”

Ipha closed her eyes and listened to the rumble of his voice, letting it fill her and trying to warm the cold spots inside. She'd never seen him so vulnerable and it broke her heart. She had unbalanced him and being balanced was particularly important to a soldier.

“So this is our room?”

“Yeah. I slept with the crew for a long time in the bunks. But once we knew it was marriage for us and that there wouldn't be a quick end to the war, I came in here. I've never slept so little or so well.” He grimaced. “Sorry. That's probably inappropriate to say.”

She looked at him, smiling. “It was a nice thing to say,” she whispered. She cleared her throat and looked into the air. No tears here. Only truths. “I don't know what's going on. I don't have the slightest clue. Things for me were different. A different structure in the same time frame.”

“You talk like you experienced them.”

“I did. I don't care what anyone tells me. I had a life away from here. I don't know how I got here or why or anything. But it was from somewhere else. A somewhere else where we were professional colleagues and I think, somewhat friends. No matter how badly I wanted differently.”

Jorgan went very still. He didn't look at her or interrupt her as she spoke. She told him about Hoth, being terminally injured and receiving her implants. She could tell by his face that she wasn't telling him anything new. Until she explained that instead of moving up to Ord Mantell, she had been temporarily retired and put into the Corellia R & D department. She told him a little about her four years work on ways to keep soldiers alive and healthy and he shook his head slightly through the telling.

“So you got Rendrik Poole instead. He's a good man. Big, tall Zabrak from Iridonia. War and conflict seem to be part of his DNA and he's very good at leading the squad. He won over Elara pretty quickly. He shares his bed with her.”

Jorgan had tensed when she talked about Poole, as though afraid she was going to admit to remembering being his. But when she mentioned Elara, he looked at her with his eyes shining with something she couldn't quite read.

“You're his XO, I guess Poole saw in you what I did. And there's a technical specialist named Yuun. I don't know why he's not here. When Garza put me back on active duty and assigned me to Havoc, I think I kind of took his job, or at least one part of it. I do most of the slicing and decrypting now. And because I spent so much time at CoR-D, I'm still a Lieutenant.” She gave him a sad smile. “So you're actually my superior. I'm having brain hemorrhages trying to remember not to 'sir' you.”

“And we aren't...”

“I've always read you as a by the book man, Jor- uh,” she paused, really not sure how to address him. She skipped over it. “You're my direct superior in a high combat environment. There was a time or two maybe I thought you were giving me an opening. Scared of rejection I guess.”

“Do you remember me as an idiot?” he asked

“Not at all!” she protested then looked away. “I get what you're saying. There, I haven't told you and here I did. So we made something, and a baby...” She stopped as his face got conflicted. She looked pained. “This should be a happy time,” she murmured.

“I want to be happy. I shouldn't even ask this but, what do you feel?”

She looked at him while her mind turned that over. “I'm confused, a little panicky in the chest all of a sudden. More confusion in there, some anger. I... you probably mean what do I feel about you, huh?” He stayed silent and she closed her eyes, reminded herself to breathe deeply. “Can we come back to that?”

“I'll get my things together, give you some room.” He sounded so sad. She couldn't stop herself from grabbing his arm.

“I love you,” she said it fast but loud. She couldn't let him walk out unhappy. The more she looked into his eyes the more she wanted to believe that this was what was real. What if she just pretended that this was what was real? “I can't.. can't do this alone. And I'm literally all alone here. I have no idea what's going on and I just want it to be all okay again.”

He sat back down next to her. “I'm right here, Ipha. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Damn right you're not going anywhere. This is your room too, your space. I... have everything I've ever wanted here. It's like I woke up to exactly what I wished I had. That's... that's really weird. What does it mean?”

“This is your life, Ipha. You didn't wake up to anything but a new day. Well, a new baby too.” He reached for her stomach and his hand hovered over it a second before touching her. “The memory, the confusion, we're going to figure that out.”

“But you're staying here?” She let herself hope.

“Right here.”

“Okay.” She was flooded with desire. She wanted to hug him, hold him, take him down to the bed. She was scared to even touch him. “I don't even know where to start looking.”

“Ipha...”

She turned to face him and found him just a breath away from her. Her libido jerked, her eyes widened but she forced herself to stay very still.

“I thought I'd lost my wife.”

“Say that again.”

“My wife.”

“I need to get used to that.”

Brei'yu stood before the images of her brain, staring at the tiny black dot that wasn't supposed to be there. She didn't feel so much fear as anger. Whatever that dot was, it was the reason she didn't have Vector, it was the reason she couldn't find Adris. If she found the source of the dot, she would find all her answers.

“Maybe you should call Ipha,” Vikis said behind her.

Brei'yu whirled in shock. “What.. what did you say?”

Vikis gave her a bland look. “I said maybe Ellivian has found Adris. She's on her way here now.”

Brei'yu shook her head. “I'm sorry. I heard something else entirely.”

Ellivian stepped into the med bay and looked apologetic. Brei'yu's stomach fell. “Adris must be deep under. He's not answering his personal or his ship's holo. I tried contacting Intelligence but they can't tell me anything.”

“Intelligence?” Brei'yu asked. Adris no longer worked for Intelligence, but she kept that to herself.

“I managed to threaten my way all the way up to a Watcher Three. He was suitably shaken by my Sithyness, but even that couldn't secure me an answer. He's on the Outer Rim, but his assignment requires 'discretion.' I managed to get out of him that Adris has been there for the last three weeks. Is that any help?”

Brei'yu closed her eyes. In reality, it just made things more confusing. “And Captain Quinn found no other reason for my memory loss?”

“Possible trauma,” Quinn answered. “Perhaps you don't wish to remember.”

Brei'yu rubbed her forehead. This was all just adding to the confusion. There were no answers to be had here, just more questions. “Whatever happened to me, what? Changed my memory? Wiped some of it out? Something isn't right here.”

“Take a walk with me,” Vikis said.

“Oh, um. Yes, my lord,” Brei'yu answered. She really didn't want to walk with the Sith lord.

He guided her without touching her, silent until they left the ship and stood in the hangar. He looked her in the eye and she stared, mesmerized by the swirling red. “Something is wrong,” he said. “You are very correct about that. Do you understand me? Something is wrong.”

“M-my lord?”

“You need to find out what is wrong.” He leaned into her, his face intense.

He was warning her. She just couldn't make sense of the warning. “Lord Vikis-”

“No questions. I have no answers for you. Trust yourself, or you'll be swept away.” He straightened, his face regaining the haughty calm. “I will give Lieutenant Pierce your regards,” he finished as though nothing had happened. He turned from her, and left her alone, closing the gangplank to the ship behind him.

She stood, staring around her, wondering if anyone else had just experienced that too. But she was alone in this. She had to trust herself. It was time to go home.

<to be continued>

“I’m not comfortable with that, Malavai,” the Captain said stiffly.

“I can’t keep calling you the Captain!” Malavai argued.

“It’s inappropriate.”

“No, it isn’t!”

“This conversation is over,” the Captain said flatly.

“That isn’t fair!” Malavai shouted angrily.

“Go tell it to someone who cares!” Quinn shouted back.

Malavai stared at the Captain with wide, tear filled eyes. He was being so mean about this. The little boy turned and ran before Quinn could yell at him again. His argument was sound for a four year old. He wasn’t part of the Captain anymore and they weren’t brothers so why couldn’t the Captain be his dad? After all, their father wasn’t really there and when he was he was manipulating him for his own ends. He tossed himself onto the cot in the Captain’s quarters. He didn’t even have a proper bed. He was just as unloved as he was the first time around. Quietly, he sobbed into his pillow.

“Malavai?” the Captain asked quietly.

“Go away!” Malavai shouted into his pillow. Most of his shout was lost to the fluffiness of the pillow, but he didn’t care. He was hurt and the Captain was a jerk.

Quinn sighed and sat down next to Malavai.

“I said go away!” Malavai mumbled sadly into his pillow.

“I’m sorry, Malavai,” Quinn said quietly. “You surprised me, is all.”

“You didn’t have to yell,” the boy murmured as he lifted his head from the pillow.

“I’m not good at this Malavai. I have no idea how to be a father, especially to a four year old version of myself.”

“Maybe, but we wanted nothing more than a dad to be there for us, right?” Malavai asked quietly. Quinn nodded. “So, I mean, you can’t go back to being a kid and get a dad, but a version of you can get a dad and you get to be that dad! You can be the dad you wanted when you were growing up!”

Quinn chewed his cheek in thought. It was true. He had wanted nothing more than to have his father care for him. He spent most of his life trying to prove his worth. He wasn’t just a failed experiment or a failed assassin. He was an intelligent man who had achieved much given the circumstances and he continued to grow by leaps and bounds. If he started being the father Malavai deserved, there was nothing that could hold him back.

“What if I fail?” Quinn asked quietly.

“You can’t fail if you don’t at least try,” Malavai said wisely.

“Very well,” Quinn said firmly. “I will register you as my child.”

“Can I call you ‘dad’?” Malavai asked hopefully.

Quinn turned to the boy and smiled. “I would hope for nothing less.”

A happy grin split Malavai’s face and the boy tackled Quinn to the floor. Happy laughter filled the room, whatever room, they were in for years to come.

Djem walked through the hallways of her Fury with an empowered gait. It hadn’t yet been a full week since Darth Baras had granted his apprentice the use of one of his starships but Djem felt like it had never been any different. A ship to call her own and a crew that followed her every demand was simply nothing less than she deserved. The fact she was effectively Baras’ errand girl, schlepping for him whenever and wherever he pleased was easily forgotten within the confines of the ship, where it was her word that ruled.

The door to the bridge flew open at her approach and Djem quickened her pace in anticipation. As always, her mind did a quick inventory when she stepped onto the bridge, making sure all of it was still in its rightful place. Pleased to see everything was exactly as she’d left it she proceeded to the captain’s chair and sat down gracefully, making sure to toss her lekku over the back of the chair. Designed for a wide array of mission parameters with its combination of maneuverability and heavy fire power, the one thing the Fury had never been designed for was a twi’lek captain. As she’d painfully found out the first time she sat down, the high-backed captain’s chair did not agree with her head tails. She’d made a mental note to replace the chair at the first possible opportunity; Sith or not, comfort was as important to her as appearance.

Relaxing into the chair, Djem turned the bridge lights to minimum illumination and stared off into the endless sea of black that surrounded her. She thought of this view as a blueprint to the galaxy’s design, everything you needed to know was right there, outside. Countless stars, shining brightly, some brighter than others but each contributing to the intricate tapestry of pulsing light, woven through the darkest black. But one by one, all stars eventually lost their radiance, their light swallowed whole by the darkness that surrounds them. There was something tranquil and reassuring about this view that appealed to Djem and she found herself sitting here and staring off with increased frequency.

“Gorgeous view, ain’t it? Bit monotonous if you ask me,” Vette chuckled when Djem nearly fell out of her chair, rubbing her ear cones. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn’t even heard the other twi’lek come in, sneaking up behind her to blow these words into her ear.

“What do you want, Vette?” Djem asked bitingly.

“Nothing,” Vette replied sweetly. “Just wanted to see if you’d shock me.”

The casual way in which she added that comment made Djem get up from her chair and turn around to face Vette. “I have never shocked you, Vette.”

“Oh, I know,” the other twi’lek said happily. “I was just wondering what it’d take for you to shock me.”

The concentrated look Vette gave her set Djem on edge. “I don’t appreciate these jokes, Vette. Now get out before I do shock you.”

“No,” the look of defiance Vette gave her was one of singular determination.

It was a look that made Djem’s blood boil with anger. On her ship, under her command, Vette would do exactly as she commanded. She was Sith and no one would make her look like a fool by disobeying her. Djem crossed the space between Vette and herself in two long strides and pulled hard at one of her head tails. Vette whimpered but otherwise remained impassive as she brought her face within inches from Vette’s.

“Get. Out,” the whispered words were full of anger.

When Vette didn’t respond Djem pulled even harder at her head tail and the twi’lek cried out in pain. Moments from passing out, Djem released her grip and Vette crumpled to the floor, her breathing ragged as she massaged her lekku.

“I am not asking you to get out a third time,” the words were cold and menacing but already her anger was subsiding and something else was starting to nag at the edges of her mind.

“You know,” Vette laughed mirthlessly. “You still haven’t shocked me.”

With a wave of her hand Djem sent the twi’lek flying through the doorway. With her anger on the retreat the push hadn’t packed a lot of power and as Djem approached the door to the bridge Vette was already scrambling herself together in the hallway.

“If you were any other Sith Lord, I’d have been dead by now,” Vette wheezed. “Multiple times.”

She looked up at Djem. “You won’t kill me. You won’t shock me. Ever since Korriban, you haven’t even talked to me. The only exception is when you tell me to get out, or to get lost, or to make myself scarce. What is it going to take for you to acknowledge me?”

Vette gave her that same concentrated look again as Djem looked down on her, dumbstruck. “I can be a good companion you know. I might not have chosen to get stuck with a Sith but in spite of that, I can be a good companion.”

Djem looked at the twi’lek in front of her with a mixture of anger, surprise and exasperation. It was true that she’d been ignoring Vette, she had her reasons for that. But choosing to ignore her was just as much her prerogative as choosing to torture her. She thought she’d been very considerate for a Sith to go with the pain-free option.

“A girl doesn’t like to be ignored.” Vette said simply as she started to get up.

“I’m not asking you to become my best friend,” Vette continued when Djem didn’t respond. “That’ll really be day. Just… just acknowledge me and clue me in. I can be an asset.”

Djem moved her weight absentmindedly. This entire conversation unnerved her and all she wanted was for Vette to go away. “I’ll try,” she replied stiffly.

“That’s all I ask,” Vette sighed relieved. She made to walk away when she turned around again.

“One more thing. See, I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now. Maybe you want to take this shock collar off? You know, for all the hard work I’ve done for you on Korriban and Dromund Kaas. And, of course, seeing how you’re not really using it to instill the perpetual fear of lightning in me anyway.”

Djem knew she had to say no. She was Sith. She was power. No one would be allowed to undermine that. But as she looked into Vette’s eyes, her face still flushed from the strain her body endured, the words died on her lips and she instead unlocked the shock collar with a flick of the Force. It clattered to the deck with a hollow sound and came to rest between her feet.

“Thanks. Now I feel silly for not asking sooner,” Vette winked at her for the joke as she made to leave, undoubtedly on her way to a private lekku buff.

-----

Hours later, Djem was still sitting in her captain’s chair, staring out the bridge window. As she turned the shock collar over and over in her hands, the image that filled her mind was not the tranquil darkness of the galaxy but the severe torturing of a young twi’lek.

My SW in fact didn't talk to Vette until she'd gotten her ship. This was because I've never been able to match Vette's voice to her standard appearance or one of the 3 customization you can choose from after Korriban. Because you need your ship to travel to the planet that sells more customizations, I "saved" my conversations with Vette until after I got her the only appearance that "does it" for me.